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starstruckmoony · 7 months

Note

Hi, could I request a enemies to lovers with Enzo? Love your writing :))

tysm for the request anon!! i am so so sorry for taking ages to post this but i got veryyyyyy carried away and it may or may not be too long BUT i hope you enjoy it and that it's similar enough to what you imagined <3

king of my heart.

masterlist , requests

pairing - lorenzo berkshire x reader

summary - you and lorenzo are both sore, jealous losers with egos the size of jupiter, so you decide that you hate one another and that academic competing is the way to go. you keep that up for six full years, until something rather unfortunate happens and destroys your entire game plan.

trope/tags - enemies to lovers, rivals to lovers, angst, fluff

word count - 12.8k

warnings - language, smoking

if there was one thing every single person who ever crossed your path knew about you, even if you were barely acquainted, was that you had sort of been raised without the ability to accept that you cannot always come out on top. it was simply incomprehensible. you'd been told that you were a gifted kid from the moment you became aware of your pathetic little existence. it did wonders to your ego. your smarts and determination amused your tutors, petrified them even. and the better you got, the more motivation it sparked in you.

you intended to keep things going your way when your acceptance letter for hogwarts arrived in the mail. you weren't worried, not even a little bit, and neither were your parents. being the best of the best was a running thing in your family.

unsurprisingly, it couldn't have started off better. your professors loved you. other kids envied you. each essay and exam result you'd ever recieved was the textbook definition of perfect. your grades were nicer that aphrodite's reflection in the mirror, as hermione had told you once. it was a lot coming from her. she was also amongst the few of the smartest, most hardworking students in your year, but you never felt threatened by her, or anybody else for that matter. there was, weirdly, no jealousy. on her part, at least, considering you so very effortlessly secured your spot as top of the class and never let anybody take it. she'd always be happy for you like the good friend she was, proudly patting you on the back, yet you couldn't help but think if she ever felt a little angry behind that supportive smile of hers.

and funny enough, you were finally able to stop pretending to know what it was like one fine wednesday before the christmas holidays. you had come into class more confident than ever that morning, smugly waiting for your potions essay results. you were hoping for a hundred, but a ninety nine, maybe even a ninety eight, didn't seem so bad either. that would have been, if lorenzo berkshire hadn't got his essay back with a score better than yours. he, much like yourself, was just another sore loser who craved academic validation like a drug, silently fuming whenever somebody surpassed him. he had dealt it with for months, watching you ace everything from charms to transfiguration, and always being second to you. the jealousy consumed his entire being, and he was kind of going mental, so you one could only imagine how ecstatic he was when he saw your face twist with dread after snape praised him in front of everybody. he wouldn't have hidden that mocking grin on his face if you held a knife to his throat and it made you want to choke him to death, for lack of better term.

"l/n." he sang as he successfully caught you in the corridor right after the said lesson. twat. you ignored him and increased the speed of your steps, biting the inside of your cheek, so hard that it began to sting. you didn't instantaneously realise how desperate he was to get your attention, but it became a lot clearer when he stood in front of you, entirely blocking your path. your little attempts to confuse him and avoid the situation were useless. it was kind of pathetic.

"what do you want?" simply shoving him to the ground and acting like it never happened would have done the job, but god forbid you swallowed your pride for once.

"c'mon, don't be so pissy, i'm just trying to make conversation." you saw right through him, anyone would. him? wanting to make conversation with you? after death-glaring you every lesson for three months straight? and then bursting your bubble and being so smug about it? you almost scoffed, "you're in my way."

"oh, my apologies." he moved to the side and bowed dramatically, waiting for you to leave. you rolled your eyes, and took a single step forward, just to have him come right back to his original spot.

"move." you tried to shove him and even attempted to run for it, but he was faster than you. your nostrils flared, "you know that today was just dumb luck, right?" you crossed your arms, thinking you'd get under his skin, but there was no sign of change on his face. on the contrary, he was more accomplished than ever. you were fuming.

"i wouldn't call it that." he tilted his head to the side, observing your face.

"alright then," you copied his movements, "plagiarism?" his smile fell a little. it made you a lot happier than it should have. you expected victory from that senseless squabble, but lorenzo wasn't the type of person who backed down so easily. that was something you should have known.

"you're projecting." he shrugged, blankly staring at you.

"projecting?" you almost stuttered.

"projecting. pick up a dictionary, yeah?" he gave your head a tiny pat, and left you standing in the hallway, dumbfounded, angry, and a little humiliated.

that moment alone set off a feud that changed the trajectory of your miserable lives forever. each time he did better than you, whether it was on an essay, an exam, flying lessons even, your urge to wipe his existence of the face of the earth got stronger. the feelings were mutual on his part. you went back and forth like that for a while, trying not to be that obvious about it, but one could only hide their true feelings for so long.

it started off with hushed insults, which got strategically thrown around every time you'd cross each other's path. having other people notice your diminishing confidence was proper nightmare fuel, so you kept it as subtle as possible. then it turned into shoving and pushing, which was enough to set off some alarm bells in the heads of your friends. neville had told you that it wasn't worth it, and draco, of all fucking people, had told lorenzo to tone it down, but you refused to listen. you offered a few empty promises, saying that you'll sort it out sooner or later (sort out as in make sure you never let lorenzo get a score higher than yours again, but that was not going to happen).

your sooner or later turned into a few godawfully long years. saying you hated him may have seemed like an overstatement, but there was no other way to describe that burning feeling of i want to fucking kill you that entirely took over you whenever you laid your eyes on him. it kept getting worse and worse, without you realising just how bad it had become. your little competitions had completely lost their significance. it didn't matter who was first anymore. it could be ron or pansy, and you wouldn't bat an eye. all you cared about was surpassing each other, even if you were among the average with your scores.

that being said, it became an open secret of sort. as stupid as you made your classmates out to be, they were not, and they quickly put the missing puzzle pieces together. one of them spread a rumour that you tried to kill lorenzo, or vice versa, you couldn't really remember. and frankly, you couldn't blame them. you had given them more than enough reasons to think that you hated his guts. the most ridiculous instance had to have been the one during potions class when snape assigned you to work together. you could have placed a bet of two million galleons that he did it on purpose. it was like he wanted you to fail.

lorenzo had managed to insult you before he even took a seat at your table, calling you too stupid to work with in front of the entire class. you told him that he was a daft idiot when he unwillingly slumped down into the empty seat next to you, which had only set him off more. you accepted your fates almost immediately, knowing that whatever task snape assigned to you wouldn't be done, even if it cost you your grades.

just like you predicted, you did everything but what you were supposed to; spilled every sort of liquid there was all over each other's things, broke a few glasses, set two notebooks on fire, and burnt a hole in the table. you had stuck him to his chair, too, and lost a few house points as a result.

***

a sane person would have reached a certain point and stopped, pushing all of those stupid grudges aside. forgive and forget, that whole talk. hopelessly, your friends thought you would have got over it as you were growing older and that you would have chosen basic human decency over some hurt feelings and an insignificant competition no one gave a shit about. but no. you were not sane. you were ruthless, and you continued trying to make each other miserable like your lives depended on it. you hated lorenzo berkshire, and he hated you just as much. you were too naive and caught up in it all to realise that it'll come right back for you later.

it was like some sick obsession. from obvious sabotaging during classes whenever you got assigned to work together (followed by unsatisfactory results you blamed the other for) to throwing insults at each other in the corridors where everybody was set to hear you, you had checked every single one off.

you called him a useless arsehole on a daily basis. he called you an insufferable bitch every time he saw you. you had cursed out each other during lessons and done even worse things when nobody was looking. and if anyone did see you and try to get involved and call you names, it was bad news for them. you were each other's enemies to insult and demean and degrade and ruthlessly bully, nobody else's. only you were allowed to call him a cockroach, and only he was allowed to call you a snake. your relationship with lorenzo was nothing you could explain to somebody with a fully functioning brain, even if you tried.

one night in your fifth year, you had successfully snuck out in search of some sort encyclopaedia to help you out with your DADA assignment. none of the books which you were allowed to use did good enough of a job at making it easier, so you were hoping that the restricted section would have something better to offer - which it did. you couldn't recall the last time your trip to the library was that short.

to make things even better, you successfully avoided bumping into an annoying brunette who made your life oh so entertaining (unbearable). lorenzo wasn't anywhere to be seen. you smiled to yourself, feeling a sense of freedom at last. you were praying that the prick got bored of looming around the corridors all alone like a loser, waiting to terrorise you.

you began humming a tune you heard dean play on his old gramophone (one that got confiscated), and skipped around the corner to make your way to the grand staircase. mistake number one. you tripped over something, someone, but managed to stay on your feet as opposed to falling face-first onto the ground. you didn't even have to look back to know who it was.

"my, my, out rebelling again?" lorenzo leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, smirking in satisfaction when he noticed how you were grimacing. he stepped on one of the books you dropped, refusing to move when you tried to snatch it back.

"do you mind?" you spat, aggressively pulling it from under his foot. you straightened out your clothes and dusted yourself off before tucking the literature you had picked up under your arm.

"stealing?" he raised an eyebrow.

"borrowing." you corrected.

"without permission?" he tilted his head to the side in faux amusement, "i wonder what would happen if i alerted a professor about this."

"and you'd tell them what?" you scoffed, barely able to hold your laughter in, "that you saw me stealing while you were sneaking out to go for a casual wank?" what a fucking idiot. you rolled your eyes, turning away from him with the intention to walk away from the scene. you were not in the mood for his bullshit.

"yeah, yeah, run away like you always do." he uttered in disappointment, yawning. he knew exactly which buttons to push, and it wasn't surprising. you were familiar with each other's habits and emotions more than you'd like to admit. you stopped in your tracks. sighing, you set the books down onto the stone tiles, and spun around to face him once again.

"aguamenti." you cast the spell with an evil smile, and in a matter of seconds, a wave of water was shot straight in lorenzo's direction, leaving him soaking wet. he gasped out in shock; his clothes clung to his body. the water was unbearably cold, it was so fucking freezing, he could barely move. the commotion was noisy enough to alert filch and his beloved ms. norris, but those were the last of your worries. your felt rather fulfilled, that was what mattered.

"you asked for it." you shrugged, but did not turn your back on him just yet. that would have been the easiest way for him to attack, so you mistakenly waited, thinking he would strike for you. he dug his wand out of his pocket, and muttered a spell, "vermiculus."

you whipped your head in the direction in which he pointed his hand, realising what happened a second too late. he had turned your precious books into worms. you yelped in surprise and stepped away from the disgusting mess on the ground, your back bumping into his chest. you turned to face him and gave him a harsh push, backing him up into the wall and shoving your wand into his face.

"uncast it." you demanded. he laughed. how stupid did you have to be to even think that he'd listen to you, "no."

"berkshire." your words came out louder than expected. you wouldn't have been shocked if you saw a teacher coming around the corner to reprimand the both of you for looming around so late, but you didn't care.

"undo the damn spell." you repeated, just about ready to strangle him if you deemed it necessary.

"no." he pushed you away and took a hold of his own wand. he tried to disarm you, but failed miserabley. two could play at that game, then "stupif-"

"what's going on here?" filch's scratchy voice stopped you mid-spell. your head snapped towards him, and you instinctively stuck your wand inside of your clothes as if he hadn't already seen it. being too preoccupied by trying to come up with an explanation that you hadn't previously used to get yourself out of trouble, you had forgotten about the slimy creatures crawling on the floor. a worm wiggled towards you, too close for comfort, and you scrambled to get away, clumsily bumping into lorenzo once again. he gave you a somewhat gentle shove to get you away, and you kicked him in response, right in the shin.

"she tried to drown me." he explained with an irritated groan, rubbing the sore spot on his leg.

"he destroyed school property." you added dramatically, wishing to kick him one more time. filch's eyes trailed over to the filth beside your feet, and he made a face of disgust before instructing you both to follow him to dumbledore's office.

the whole ordeal ended with the books being safely returned to their spot on the shelves of the restricted section, a half-assed DADA assignment and the two of you getting put on bathroom cleaning duty for seven days straight (no magic allowed). it was probably the biggest mistake of dumbledore's life.

the bathrooms were not cleaned properly once. in fact, they'd only end up in conditions which were about ten times worse than their default ones. lorenzo was too busy spilling bucketfuls of water, dirty or clean, all over you to care whether he scrubbed the junk off every single sink there was (payback for the stunt you pulled on him in the corridor), and you were too busy hitting him with funny smelling toilet brushes (made sure you got all that rubbish into his hair, too) to polish the tiles and mirrors to perfection like you were told to do. it was disgusting and sickeningly entertaining at once. dumbledore considered punishing you with some other method, but gave up seeing what the boys' toilets looked like after night four. not even detention was able to come between the two of you. limits and common sense weren't either.

***

in your sixth year, the unimaginable happened. there wasn't a single soul who saw it coming, not even yourselves. maybe it was magic. maybe it was a sign from the universe. maybe some higher power did everybody justice. whatever it was, it sent your professors into a spiral. their shitty damage control was finally paying off, as cruel as it turned out to be.

classes had become increasingly more difficult than they were in previous years. to follow, to manage, to keep track of, and everything in between. mcgonagall had pulled you outside twice, asking you what was wrong after she had noticed that you were falling behind. many of your peers were, actually, but nobody would have ever expected it from you. the results you'd achieve weren't always as perfect as they were in your first year, though you had never struggled to get past eighty points until then. it was singlehandedly the worst thing that could have ever happened to you. priorities were hard to sort out, so there was a noticeable decline in your performance. you were absolutely miserable, and it did not get better, only worse. so bad that you had forgotten that you had a certain slytherin to compete with.

it was the day before halloween night, lessons had come to an end. your friends scattered around different places – some to the great hall, some to hogsmeade, some headed straight to bed, all intending to clear their minds after a stressful week of difficult assignments and dreadfully challenging essays. nearly every student left the transfiguration classroom with a relieved smile, happy that even their low scores ensured them a pass. hermione got a ridiculous amount of praise for her outstanding results, and even an encouraging pat on the back from mcgonagall.

so, a wonderful end of october for everybody but yourself. your expectations weren't high when you handed your toughest essay in. you thought you'd get sixty points at best. not hoping for much, yet still trying to ignore the worst possible outcome - one that was bound to get you someday like proper karma. but that wouldn't actually happen, would it? there was no way. it was impossible. you felt like a bloody idiot.

you failed. you fucking failed. for the first time in your life. and it was much more humiliating than you had imagined. you were so upset with yourself that you hadn't even bothered to pester lorenzo about his results, and strangely, he hadn't approached you either. no glances, no death glares, no hushed insults. not during the lesson, not after.

you left the transfiguration classroom trying your hardest not to cry, ignoring all of your friends and wishing to get out of the castle as soon as possible. you needed to be alone. you weren't looking for anybody's comfort, validation or their empty words of sympathy that would lose their meaning the moment you fixed the mess you were in. so you went to the black lake; where very little people preferred spending time, where you could be at peace with your own thoughts, and where you could catch a much needed break, even if it was only for a little while.

you slumped down onto the grass with a thump, bringing your knees up to your chest and letting your tears fall. you failed. for merlin's sake, you failed. it was like everything you had ever known was suddenly gone. you weren't even worried about what your parents or professors would say. truthfully, you couldn't give less of a damn. you were so disappointed that you had blocked out everything and everyone else, or whatever stupid opinion and solutions they might have had to offer. everyone, except for lorenzo and that dumb game you two were, for an even dumber reason, still playing. he must have been oh so happy to hear about your failure. he'd never let you live it down, you knew it.

"l/n?" speak of the fucking devil. he always had fantastic timing.

"get out of my sight before i throw you into the lake." you spat, wiping your tear-stained face with your sleeve, not looking at him.

"shiver me timbers." he sang, not feeling threatened at all.

"berkshire." you warned, turning your head towards him and meeting his gaze. you shouldn't have moved. worry flashed through his face for a brief moment when he caught a glimpse your puffy eyes, and he pressed his lips together, guilty. could he actually bring himself to pester you while you were in such a terrible condition? no, he couldn't, regardless of the resentment he felt towards you.

he cleared his throat and took a step closer. you sighed, staring back at the landscape spread out in front of you without uttering a word, "what happened?" he questioned hesitantly.

"nothing that concerns you." you attempted to shut him down. he raised both of his eyebrows, a little amused, "someone upset my favourite rival," he scoffed, "of course it concerns me."

you rolled your eyes, "just leave, will you?" but did you really want him to? your voice shook as you spoke. you despised the part of you that was wishing for him to stay. you wanted to be alone more than anything, but you knew you'd break down again if he listened to your plea and left you there. you'd take his overused insults over failure any day.

"not until you tell me what happened." your jaw clenched, and you muttered a quiet curse, knowing that he most likely wouldn't let up. as if that one would miss out on an opportunity to annoy you. he settled down in the grass, right next to you, waiting.

you sat in silence for what felt like forever. he didn't push you to speak again, and you were pretty reluctant to say a single thing. not even calling him names seemed tempting. you sighed for the nth time, starting to tear up again, "i got my essay back with thirty points." you sniffled, silently preparing yourself to get made fun of.

"fuck," you heard him mumble, and he scratched his head shortly before speaking, "if it makes you feel better, i got twenty eight." getting on your nerves was always in his best interest. although, having to see you so seriously upset was not on his bucket list, not anymore. you stared at him in shock, frowning, "what?"

he nodded. the look on his face was so sullen that you were starting to believe him, "are you not taking the piss?"

he snorted, "i wish i was," he avoided your gaze, "i, uh," he pursed his lips in thought, letting out a breath of frustration, "i was convinced i'd do well even if i started last minute... without research, but uh, guess i was wrong." you hummed, doubtful.

"why are you telling me all this?" you shook your head and trailed your eyes back to the lake, finding it rather difficult to believe that he was being so... nice. it was your first normal conversation and you had no clue what to make of it.

"who else am i supposed to tell it to?" he responded, annoyed. you bit the inside of your cheek, just as irritated, picking up a pebble. you examined it shortly before throwing it into the water.

lorenzo watched you curiously, having very little to say, which was terribly weird in itself. lorenzo berkshire not having a single unnecessary, offending comment to offer? your failures had truly taken a toll on you, completely.

"i can't believe we both fell off." you said in wonder, throwing another rock below the surface.

"right," he agreed, without an urge to backtalk, "fucking hell, i've no reason to hate you now." he blurted out, horrified by his own words.

"fantastic, now i suck at that too." you let out a dry, emotionless chuckle. you weren't crying anymore, just silently fuming at lorenzo for being the one to stop it without even properly trying.

"you suck at everything." he corrected.

"i take after you." you retorted nonchalantly.

"dumbass." he bit back a smile.

"dickhead." you were struggling just as hard. holding in your laughter was never more challenging, but you were determined not to break character.

you found yourselves in an eerily comfortable silence. by the looks of it, things would be alright. knowing that he messed up too somehow put you at ease. not even because you were happy to him fail, but more at the thought that it just happened to be at the same time as you. you found a certain dose of comfort in it. it was written in the stars, as it seemed.

"get lost now." you broke the bubble you found yourselves in. it was about time you got back on track. there was no way you'd get all friendly and gushy with him, even after whatever that was.

"alright, alright." he stood up, groaning as he did so. he dusted off the pieces of grass that got stuck to his trousers.

he stared back at the lake shortly, waiting to see if you'd say anything else he could offer a witty response to. he was a bit sad when you didn't, and he shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers, sighing, "well, i shall see you-"

"never." you finished that for him.

"perfect." he added, turning on his heel and heading towards the castle. you allowed yourself to glimpse at him one last time, simply not being able to let him have the last word.

"you've got some on your arse." you were talking about the remainder of the grass that was stuck to his clothing. he stopped to clean it up, and then flipped you off wordlessly.

you thought that was the last of your civilised interactions. there was no reason for you to bore your mind with it. you happened to fall behind at the same time and it gave you a decent bonding moment, but it was nothing more than that. just two people who claimed they didn't like one another very much talking properly for once. nothing, it was nothing. simple as that. so you weren't able to pinpoint why you kept looking back on it nearly every day, or why you felt so guilty for calling him stupid and useless, or why making fun of him for getting a lower score than you wasn't rewarding anymore, or why competing so fiercly was no longer satisfactory. and why he too, happened to feel just the same. maybe you had grown out of it.

you blamed it on the stress. you did have lots of different things occupying your mind anyway - such as your major arithmancy exam that you decided to pull an all nighter for.

for the first time in a while, you stayed inside the library past closing hours. madam pince wasn't too happy about it, but she liked you enough to let you crash there and warned filch not to throw you outside if he happened to notice you during his nightly patrol. the woman had some interesting tactics up her sleeve, none of which you ever questioned.

you swore, probably for the tenth time in the past two minutes, crumpling up yet another piece of parchment. you had to start over a ridiculous amount of times. the pile of rubbish on the floor was growing larger by the second. ripped up paper, bottles of ink, broken feathers, it was definitely a sight. there was no way you were getting through all of that on your own. and oh how that angered you. you rarely ever needed assistance with anything, but this was just a little bit above your level. that enraged you even more. a helping hand was starting to sound promising.

"you're still here?" you didn't even flinch, knowing all too well who that voice belonged to. did god or the devil just answer your prayers? you never got past your little habits of leaving the dormitories to do whatever there was to be done around the castle almost every night, so there he went, running into you again. lorenzo peeked out from behind the bookshelves in front of you, smiling like a little kid who was just about to do something egregiously silly. you couldn't not grin back, despite being angry.

"you're still here?" you repeated his question, crossing your arms.

"i asked first." he moved towards your desk, pulling out an empty chair and settling there next to you without even asking if you wanted him there. weird, that one.

"alright, and?" you teased further. he bumped your shoulder with his own. he wanted something. punching him suddenly sounded like a fine option. he looked over your arm to examine your notes.

"arithmancy?" he glared at you, kind of bemused. it was another subject he was that awfully good at, unlike you. you weren't terrible, but not exactly the best either. an infuriating thing.

"my favourite." you responded sarcastically, throwing your quill across the table. he hummed, sitting back in his chair, but not taking his eyes off of you. he definitely wanted something.

"what?" you could sense it already. he was gonna mock you again.

"do you need help with that, perhaps?" or maybe not. you looked at him, skeptical.

"from you?" you raised an eyebrow.

"well, i mean, yeah." he shifted in his spot, as if he was anxious. you did a double take, and then burst out laughing, wiping away a non-existent tear. he was just too damn funny. him helping you? that was a good one. you carried on with that little performance of yours for the next minute until it hit you that he wasn't joking.

"are you serious?" you asked, just to confirm. there was absolutely no chance.

"look, i can leave-" he stood up, "no," you grabbed a fistful of his sweater and pulled him back down. he yelped, startled, "what's your deal?" you weren't letting him get away with that so easily.

"what do you mean?" he was geniuenly confused.

"don't play fucking dumb," you jabbed a finger into his chest, "why are you being so kind to me all of a sudden?"

he laughed uncomfortably, scratching the nape of his neck, "well, i thought, you know, since it seems like we're no longer on about hating each other, that-"

"oh." you interrupted him, chuckling in disbelief. you shook your head, rubbing your temples in frustration and then letting your arms fall to your sides, "look, berkshire, just because i'm not trying to kill you anymore doesn't mean i want to be friends."

"what!? for fuck's sake, you're impossible." he stood up once more, this time darting out of your reach.

"here we go again." you rolled your eyes. you just couldn't interact without quarreling, could you? he paced around inbetween the bookshelves before returning to your table, "you're not exactly giving me any reasons to be nice right now."

"i never asked of you to be nice." you argued.

"you could appreciate me trying." he retorted. you had no idea what on earth he was trying to achieve. you could only think of so many explanations, "why? so that you could gain my trust and then stab me in the back when it's convenient for you?"

"that's what this is about?" he muttered something under his breath, "i thought we were past that rubbish."

you wanted to laugh hysterically, "okay, we may have pushed the resentment aside, but you can't exactly expect me to trust you."

he understood that, unbeknownst to you, "i never said that you needed to trust me," he sighed, leaning over the table, "listen, i offered to help you because i can see you're struggling. i'm not here to sabotage you if that's what you're worried about. i'd be wasting my time." he straightened his posture, standing there with his arms crossed.

"because i'm already terrible enough and don't need anyone's interference to properly fuck up, right?" you were prepared to tell him to bugger off if he refused to give you the answer you were looking for, furious at him and yourself.

he paused, hesitant. you were so fucking stubborn, and he loved you for it, "correct." alright then.

you picked up your quill, "sit down."

you got your exam back with a shocking score of eighty-nine, surpassing even hermione. not lorenzo, but you were second, and that was enough to have your ego flying right back through the roof.

i told you you could do it, he said, but not without me, he had to point out. you had to give him that. how could you not? he casually decided to save your life without you even asking for it. if it weren't for him, you most likely would have majorly fucked up on that exam. that's not saying that it wasn't difficult. he had no patience and you had even less, but you had somehow survived that night in the library without biting each other's heads off or getting into any additional fights. he even followed you back to your dorm, an offer he didn't allow you to refuse and one that you were too exhausted to complain about.

in the few weeks that followed, you decided that it was for the best that you block out whatever happened between you that night. christmas holidays were approaching, and you couldn't let that ruin your mood. lorenzo told you that mattheo said that it was a shift in the matrix. you had no idea what that meant, it sounded horrifyingly muggle, but you agreed for the sake of agreeing. a shift in the matrix, bloody nonsense. a coincidence, you called it. an accident, even. an accident that helped you out tremendously and made you reconsider lorenzo on nights when you couldn't sleep, but still an accident.

who were you kidding? something had definitely changed. other students started noticing it too.

you had gradually become somewhat friendly rivals who'd rub their own success into each other's faces for the laughs till they got threatened with a jinx or tickled to death. some occasional name calling too, just not as intense. but you weren't friends. nothing near it. you had done a pretty good job at convincing yourself you never would be. treating him a little better than usual was the farthest you'd go trying to mend all those years of jealousy and grudges. that was what you started living by, pushing away that strange tingling sensation that would coarse through you every time his hands happened to brush against yours when you walked side by side.

it is exactly why you almost spilled acidic liquid all over the table and burnt a hole in it again when he sat next to you during potions one fine afternoon.

snape was visibly mortified by the sight, partially because of that incident from two years prior (when you almost set the entire classroom on fire), and partially because he couldn't believe that mcgonagall was actually onto something when she purposefully failed you both. it would go down in history as one of the most ridiculous moments of his career. he sent a warning glare your way before beginning the lesson.

"excuse you?" you whispered once professor snape finally turned his back to the class, raising both of your eyebrows in question. was lorenzo asking to get violated?

"harry took my seat." he pointed towards the table where he usually sat. and shockingly enough, there was harry, sitting next to draco, for whatever sick and twisted reason. you gaped at them, then at lorenzo. not looking into that deeper was maybe for the better.

okay then. you didn't respond, trying to get into taking some notes like you were previously instructed. that would have been easy (it was for the first quarter of the lesson), if lorenzo's presence wasn't keeping you so alert, stopping you from focusing on what you deemed more important, "merlin, can you breathe a little quieter?" you snapped.

he purposely inhaled louder than he normally would, grinning proudly when your eyes rolled back into your brain. you kicked him under the table. he yelped, but oddly, covered it up with a cough. you glared at him, doubtful. that was not the reaction you were expecting to get.

you resumed trying to copy the crucial bits from the chapter snape assigned you all to analyse, very poorly. it was kind of impossible. you weren't used to having lorenzo sit so close to you for such an extended amount of time. ignoring him was unimaginably hard. your notes had never looked worse. words missing, constant mistakes, sensless scribbles. you reached for a new pot of ink after seeing that you had run out, and then felt his finger poke at your side.

you flinched, catching a glimpse of your professor who's head was still buried in the pile of assignments he needed to grade. he hadn't noticed you. good. but then lorenzo did it again, right where you were most ticklish, because he knew. you swatted his hand away, not missing the way he smiled to himself. little shit.

you reached to poke him too, and when you tried to pull away, he took a hold of your wrist, not letting go. he had a lot of good defense tactics up his sleeve. you didn't try to yank your arm out of his grip instantly, which was the perfect opportunity for him to tickle at your side with his free hand. this time, you held back a startled giggle, kicking him under the table one more time. he snorted, resuming his little game.

you were both sweating trying not to make too much noise, but neither of you was letting up, not letting the other have the satisfaction of winning. he eventually moved his chair closer to yours with the excuse to tickle you more effectively. your legs were touching under the table, but only because it was easier for you to kick him that way. it went on for at least fifteen minutes, until snape finally lifted his head, his eyes on the class. you separated, thinking you were being slick about it, when it was the least fitting explanation for what had been going on. the two of you had your lips pressed together, trying not to laugh. your professor could only sigh in response. at least you didn't set anything ablaze.

hermione tucked her arm under yours in the hallway when your lesson ended, grinning mischevously, "would you like to tell me what happened just now?"

you scoffed, rolling your eyes playfully, "huh? i don't know what you're on about." you played dumb, despite knowing exactly what she was getting at. and you had no idea why. it's not like you had anything to hide.

"i think you do." she pushed. there was not a chance for you to get out of that conversation.

"really? i truly don't." you still tried, though. acting foolish was your only escape route.

"y/n." she dragged out, laughing and pulling you along with her. potions were your final lesson of the day, so you were already able to picture her desperate attempts to pull some information out of you all the way until bedtime.

"what? we were just fighting." you finally gave in. you knew you would have to eventually, but you loved your free time a little too much to let her annoying interrogation tactics drag on for so long.

"so you do know what i'm on about." she teased, scarily invested.

"what else could you possibly be on about?" you snapped, pushing away that uncomfortable feeling that settled in your chest. you had no reason not to tell her anything, so you couldn't pinpoint why you were feeling so guilty all of a sudden.

"the way you two sat closer together than every couple in our year?" she exclaimed, astonished by how shamelessly you were avoiding the subject.

you gasped, feeling a bit offended, or maybe called out. you couldn't tell which one it was, "that is not what happened." that was an overexaggaration if you ever heard one. was she out of her bloody mind? sometimes you thought that she enjoyed setting you off as much as lorenzo did.

you stepped through the portrait hole with the rest of your housemates, pushing through the crowd to get your dormitories faster. you wanted a nice shower, some peace and quiet for reading, and then decent sleep. it was that simple. you survived the walk through the common room without anyone asking additional invasive questions, immediately heading for the toilet once you arrived to your dorm.

you really needed that shower. it made you feel whole again. you stepped out after putting some comfortable clothes on, skipping over to your bed and then cursing out loud when you realised what was on it. amongst your own, there was lorenzo's fucking book. you had accidentally taken it when you scrambled to collect your things once class ended.

you could have just given it to him tomorrow, or not given it back at all. like he'd know who took it. it was incredibly tempting, but it also felt unnecessarily mean. what if he needed it to study that night? you brushed it off, not like it was your problem anyway. you sat down onto the mattress, picking up a novel from your nightstand and throwing the other books straight to the carpet so you could comfortably settle on your bed. you then put it back. you didn't feel like reading anymore. you laid there, thinking. peace was never an option in your world.

you groaned, snatching his book up from the floor and venturing back into the common room. you hadn't bothered to explain yourself to anybody, and you continued trotting over to the dungeons with a neutral expression on your face (neutral as in i am very much internally raging and if anybody tries to talk to me i might use the imperius curse on them). very useless it was, that relaxing shower of yours.

none of the slytherins lounging on the sofa questioned you, your appearance was pretty telling. good thing you ran into mattheo on the way there. getting in wouldn't have been so easy otherwise. you disappeared in the direction of their dormitories, stopping right in front of lorenzo's door. you swallowed harshly, begenning to get nervous. something was wrong with you.

you hesitated before knocking, tapping your foot against the ground furiously as you waited. "one second!" lorenzo yelled from the other side. it sounded like something had fallen over. the noise was followed by a few curse words and some shuffling before the door opened.

much to your dismay, you were met with a bare chested lorenzo, wearing nothing but a pair of trousers which loosely hung around his hips. his hair was wet, and his cheeks were a tinted with a light shade of pink. he had stepped out of the shower merely three minutes before you showed up. you inhaled sharply, swallowing the sound of surprise that almost escaped you and feeling your face heat up. his eyes went wide, given that he was taken aback much like yourself. you were the last person he was expecting to find on the other side of the door.

"hi." he greeted awkwardly, pulling his trousers up a bit as if it would help. you opened your mouth to speak, then closed it. opened it, before closing it again. you were pretty sure you resembled a damn fish. whatever was happening to you, you did not like it one bit.

"i- you- we- ithinkthisisyours." you finally spluttered, slamming the book into his chest. his hand touched yours momentarily when he grabbed it so that it wouldn't drop onto your feet. you felt lightheaded.

lorenzo was kind of freaking out, but only kind of, not even bothering to look at what you had given him at first. he was a little too busy staring at your blushing face, wondering what the hell was going on and why his heart was in his throat all of a sudden, "are you alright?" he queried, concerned.

"i am perfectly fine." that was a lie.

"ah," he nodded, then eyed the piece of literature in his hands shortly as he slowly figured what it was, "oh! thank you."

you laughed in misery, "okay!" before shutting the door in your own face. you tripped and almost fell down the stairs as you ran, still flushed and your heart beating in a way that you found a little too unusual to push away.

you received a few judgemental glares from the students you had run past. the question marks were practically visible above their heads. you were too busy going hysterical to sneer at them for staring. you burst through the door of your dorm, breathless and blushing, "what the fuck?"

somewhere back inside the dungeons, a confused lorenzo turned to face his friends, still holding the book you had given to him. he had no idea what on earth happened, or why you reacted the way you did, or why he, deep down, found it more adorable than he'd like to admit. he groaned, falling face-first onto his bed. what the fuck, indeed. christmas holidays never looked more promising.

and oh how you regretted waiting for them with so much anticipation. you were supposed to get a break. from books, assignments, essays, whatever lorenzo was doing to you. hogwarts was supposed to be all yours. you weren't heading home that year. it was your parents' twentieth anniversary, so there was no point in going back, considering that you wouldn't see them (you didn't exactly have friends in your hometown either). they'd be having the time of their lives in the alps, and you'd be regretting every decision you had made up until that point.

not only because you were already bored out of your mind waiting for your friends to return, but because you saw lorenzo sitting at the slytherin table when you walked into the great hall on christmas eve. the image of him opening the door two weeks prior flashed through your mind. it happened often, in the most inconvenient situations too. you were hoping you didn't look too flushed.

"what are you doing here?" he questioned in amusement once you trotted over to him, an equally puzzled expression on your face. "i could ask you the same thing."

"all in good time." he cleared his throat, awkward. it was weird, but you didn't think much of it just yet. instead you sighed, taking a quick look around, and then speaking, "my parents ditched me for a skiing trip."

he snorted, motioning over to the very empty seat beside him. you sat down, no thoughts behind it. he was the only person among the ones who stayed for the holidays who you knew enough to hold a conversation, so it's not like you had better options. besides, that was your chance to see if there was more to his sudden change in behaviour. you were unnerved at the idea of even having the desire to do such a thing.

"what's your excuse?" you reached over his arm to grab a piece of toast, as well as some jam and chocolate spread.

"parents as well." you didn't miss the way he shifted uncomfortably. you put down your knife and propped your arms on the table, eyeing him expectantly. he held back shortly, and you couldn't blame him. who were you to think that he'd trust you with a possible family issue?

"i was told that i'm a disappointment and i'm not allowed home until i get my grades in tact." he stabbed the bacon in his plate aggressively, not looking at you. your jaw dropped in shock.

"in tact?" you uttered in disbelief. it was practically common knowledge that lorenzo exceeded you in a lot of subjects, a little more than half of them actually, so in your mind, this shouldn't have even been a problem. he was one of the top students. everybody knew that. your parents expected you to do well too, but they weren't that pushy or strict. yeah, receiving a howler for momentarily falling behind in october was aggravating, but nothing that you couldn't bear. lorenzo's, however, were crossing a line.

he hummed, picking at his food, "don't say anything." he sighed, it almost sounded like a plea. he couldn't just ask you for comfort, or ask of you to understand. faux sympathy was the last thing he needed.

"no, it's just–" you chewed on the inside of your cheek and picked up your knife again, spreading some jam over the piece of toast you grabbed previously, "you're not a disappointment, that's bullshit." you bit into the crunchy bread, chewing it slowly, a sour expression on your face. lorenzo went a bit red, stumbling over his words before getting out a clumsy i know, followed by a hesitant thanks anyway.

you said nothing for the remaining few minutes of breakfast, just eating in silence while other students chatted in background. when you were exiting the great hall together to return to your respective dorms, you made eye contact with mcgonagall for a brief moment. she offered you a proud smile, yet with a hint of mischief behind it. you had never been more confused.

you spent the first half of christmas day alone in the gryffindor common room, reading some trashy muggle romance novel you found under hermione's bed a couple of nights before. it was one of the worst books you had ever picked up, but there was something so annoyingly addicting about it that you just couldn't give it up. it left you feeling empty and lonely, and with a strong desire to fling yourself straight into the depths of the black lake.

"christ, l/n, why do you look so sullen?" you shut your eyes, exhaling through your nose. just what you needed. you weren't even gonna question lorenzo was doing there. you had a clue.

"you don't wanna know." you tossed the book across the room, internally celebrating when he decided not to investigate further.

he made a face, "merry christmas?"

"likewise." you replied blandly. when you didn't tell him to get lost, he jumped onto the sofa, getting comfortable next to you. he didn't look all too happy either.

you sat there for good twenty minutes, staring at the fire like your entire worlds were crumbling in front of your eyes. it didn't occur to the either of you how awful it would feel to spend christmas all alone for the first time. no presents, no childhood foods, no hugs from mum in the morning. you even missed your spoiled cousins who would nag you to play with them each time you visited their house on boxing day.

it fucking sucked, but god, at least lorenzo was there. you'd push aside everything that happened between you in the previous years just for a twinge of affection. something came over you, and you lowered your head onto his shoulder, almost sighing in relief when he didn't shove you away. he scooted closer and rested his head on top of yours, not speaking.

from that moment onward, you saw each other every day. he'd show up at your dorm at random moments and you'd show up at his at even worse ones. you'd take walks in the snow together and come back with soaking wet clothes and red noses. you'd smoke in the courtyard before bed after making sure the coast was clear. you'd go to hogsmeade and fight over who was gonna pay for the butterbeer until you came up with a nonsensical compromise. you'd sneak out at night to steal books from the restricted section of the library and then read them under covers in the slytherin dorms. you'd sometimes fall asleep next to each other and then act like nothing happened in the morning.

***

you expected it all to fade to nothing once everybody else came back to hogwarts, but then it didn't. you still took walks in the snow and argued over butterbeer and snuck out after midnight (and had to clean several toilets after getting caught almost every time). he still helped you with arithmancy without asking for anything in return, and you'd sometimes kiss him on the cheek if you were in a good mood. you thrived off of the expressions that would paint his face whenever you did that.

but with the return of other students also came whispers and rumours, following you around like shadows. you ignored them tactfully, not wanting to give anybody the satisfaction of confirming that their silly theories may have been right all along. especially not hermione. she wouldn't let you forget that until you perished. she'd probably leave a note on your grave too, so you'd have that humiliating reminder haunting you in the afterlife.

"i thought you two hated each other." mattheo deadpanned one evening after lorenzo had brought you to the slytherin common room, straight into the damn snake pit. you were squashed together on the sofa, a large book splayed open across your laps, not getting read. it was one of the stolen ones. all of his friends were there, watching you like hawks.

"we do." you responded nonchalantly, taking the cigarette that lorenzo handed you. you took a long drag before putting it back between his lips.

"then why do you spend so much time together?" draco was very obviously judging you. he of all people should have understood. lorenzo rolled his eyes.

"you are in no place to talk, mister i hate potter but snog him in my off time." blaise took your side, bless his soul, and tossed theodore's shoe in his direction. shutting draco up was easier than you would have thought.

"no, but why?" mattheo repeated draco's question, propping his chin up into his palm and observing you curiously.

"maybe, they're– wait, what do you call that?" theodore leaned into pansy, hoping she had an answer.

"masochists?" she replied casually and lit a cigarette herself.

you choked on your spit. lorenzo almost burnt a hole in the sofa. but then pansy brushed her friend off, staring at the two of you with a mischievous grin, "not really, i think they're just bad liars."

and she was so bloody right. hate was the last thing that could be used to describe your relationship. third year you's biggest nightmare was a better label for it, given that you couldn't even be in the same room as him without trying to turn him into something nasty.

present day you was having a difficult time stopping herself from trying to kiss him whenever he was in her presence. it was that fucking frustrating. you couldn't believe yourself. lorenzo was facing the same struggles, and you couldn't tell if he was worsening or subduing the tension by randomly touching you. not like you minded, you were loving it all and stopped bothering with trying to hide it from him. your ego may have been large, but your crush on him ended up being bigger.

potions class was usually the height of it all, although it wasn't the only period during which you got to sit next to your favourite rival. mcgonagall was was thriving, unlike snape, who simply could not get used to the positive energy surrounding you, or the way you were together each time he crossed your paths. seeing pure fear flash through his eyes at the beginning of every class was hilarious.

when lorenzo arrived, you felt yourself starting to smile and tried to push it away with the most unsettling thoughts you could muster. it did nothing. he sat down with a dramatic groan, and immediately started ranting about some minor issue he had run into that morning. he did that a lot. this time it was about his favourite pair of socks going missing. you sucked in practically everything he said, chuckled at the random curses, noticed every breath of frustration he released as he was rummaging through his bag. you didn't realise you were staring. lorenzo did, but he didn't comment on it. he liked when you were looking at him.

you failed to regsiter that the lesson officially began, but not much was happening, really. snape was telling you about felix felicis and how insanely difficult it was to make, while you were required to write down the most useful bits of the information he was giving out. when he finally sat down after assigning you to read an overly long passage, lorenzo shifted closer to you. you eyed him, puzzled.

"would you kill me if i asked you for a favour?" you focused half of your attention on the writing, half on him.

"depends what the favour is." you shrugged. he put his arm over the text to prevent you from reading. he wanted you to look at him. he had always wanted you to look at him. from the very moment your fued set off, it was one of those little annoying things that made your hatred for him stronger. not anymore, but it was still infuriating in its own way. you gave him your full attention. he may have seen some sparks fly. you had each other wrapped around your little fingers without even realising it.

he shifted even closer to you so that you could hear him better, considering that he had to whisper, "can you come to hogsmeade with me today?" his breath fanned over your ear as he spoke. you didn't respond, so he continued, "none of my friends want to and it would be stupid if i went alone. you do kind of owe me." ah, yes. for that time he saved you from detention after slughorn caught you two smoking in the astronomy tower. you shot him with an annoyed look. you both knew it was exaggerated and what your answer would be, yet you still played around with it. that's the way things went. he smirked. bitch.

"fine." he was so smug about it, you could choke him and snog him at the same time. he got his arm away from your textbook, but didn't retrieve his chair. you were squeezed next to one another despite having more than enough space. your arms were touching, and so were your legs beneath the table. you moved not a muscle, and neither did he. you had grown to like having him sit so close to you. it made you feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside, helping you ignore the freezing winter air and the thick layer of snow covering the ground outside.

you met him in the courtyard after a quick change of clothing following the end of your classes for that week. when hermione asked you where you were heading and why you won't be staying in the common room with the rest of your friends, you told a half truth. that you were heading to hogsmeade, but then bolted out the door before she was able to ask with whom. she would guess either way.

"i forgot to ask you why we were doing this in the first place." you spoke as you left the school grounds, your hands shoved into your pockets and your face hidden inside of your fluffy scarf. you were a little cold. lorenzo was too, his nose was already going red. it was an adorable sight to see, but you weren't dumb enough to say that out loud.

"i wanna pick up a few poetry books." you bit your tongue, trying not to laugh at him.

"didn't know you could read." you snickered, it was stronger than you.

"you're so original," he mocked, "they're not for me. pansy's birthday's coming up so i figured i should get her something."

"oh." the disappointment in your tone was obvious.

all of your willingness to go with him left you in an instant. his presence was more irritating than ever. he furrowed his eyebrows as he watched you chew on the inside of your cheek, wondering if he said something wrong. again... or not. lorenzo was smarter than that.

"what, are you jealous?" he nudged you, teasing. yes. you hated yourself just a tiny bit for that, "no," you scoffed, "in your dreams, berkshire."

"we both know you can't fool me." he kept the act going. you gave him a shove, making him stumble. he almost tripped and fell in a pile of snow. it was very funny. he tried to get back at you, but you slipped out of his reach, laughing when he began chasing you.

spending time with him was like a getaway from all the things that drove you mad, even though he sometimes excelled at that. he became a friend you didn't know you needed and a friend you were pretty sure you were catching some major feelings for.

you entered the bookstore as your unplanned snowball fight came to an end, its warmth immediately engulfing you. after being in the cold for longer than intended, it was just what you desired. you stuck with lorenzo for the first few minutes, helping him out and leading him away from the large isle of erotic novels he accidentally found himself in. people were looking at you weird, especially your schoolmates, so you stepped away from the crowded bits of the shop and decided to check out different sections.

a certain book had caught your eye – its contents intrigued you, but the price did something opposite. you put it back on the shelf without second guessing yourself. you hadn't brought any money with you. you continued roaming through the different isles, browsing through various books while you waited for lorenzo to finish. you lost sight of him for a few minutes, too busy debating whether to make him come back with you here some other time so you could purchase whatever your heart desired.

for the time being, you'd have to leave the shop with empty hands. lorenzo was luckier and ended up getting five poetry books which all seemed to be written by the same author, except for one. he handed you the odd one out. you opened your mouth, ready to complain about your fingers being cold and not wanting to carry it. slowly, you realised what it was. your jaw dropped a little.

he had seen you looking at it ever so longingly when he went to check up on you after realising you had gone off on your own. he picked it up without hesitation. you were too stunned to thank him, too stunned to say anything, for the matter. but he wasn't exactly expecting a thank you. he was just happy that you liked it, grinning when you blushed and struggled to keep it cool.

"you shouldn't have done that." you chastised. those were the only words you could muster. he rolled his eyes, "deal with it."

you punched his shoulder. he didn't even flinch, "you're welcome."

when he threatened to ruin your life when you were twelve years old, this wasn't how you thought it would happen.

"i'm gonna kill you." you weren't exactly addressing him, more like talking to yourself.

"you're still on about that?" he huffed, pretending to be bored.

"lorenzo!" you groaned, he chuckled, "i love you too." your eyes almost popped out of their sockets. his weird confession seemed unserious, but your heart still fluttered. little did you know that he wasn't as oblivious as you imagined.

he was positively glowing at the reactions he was getting from you. his tiny year five crush on you had blossomed into something stronger after that moment at the lake a couple of months prior, and at last, the possibility of you feeling the same wasn't looking so small. if only you saw through his actions. all those offers of help, and his complete dismissal of your rivarly, and his clinginess, and how he stuck to you like glue whenever he got the opportunity.

your walk back to the castle surprisingly wasn't silent. you were chatting quietly, snickering amongst yourselves. your shoulders brushed occasionally, and so did your hands, and you thought your heart might burst. you shivered as the wind got stronger, pressing yourself a little closer to him.

"you okay?"

"huh?" you didn't register what he said at first, "oh, yes. just a little cold, that's all." you explained, not taking your eyes away from the pathway you were pacing across.

"let's hurry up, then." he took a hold of your hand, swiftly leading you back to the castle. you were so, royally fucked. you clutched onto the poetry book tightly, focused on regulating your breathing. your entire face was on fire, your breaths ragged, heart beating rapidly against your ribcage.

four days later, you caught a terrible cold after accidentally falling asleep by the window while you were reading. hermione said that she expected better from you. she was fantastic help. you were pretty sure you were dying. your limbs hurt. your head was throbbing. your sinuses were clogged. your throat felt like someone had stuck a knife into it. but did you skip any lessons because of it or at least visit madam pomfrey to see if she could do anything? no, you weren't that helpless. you'd deal with it on your own.

or try to, at least. you stumbled into class resembling a zombie, eager to sit down and hopefully not do much work for the day. you placed your arms on the desk, laying your head into them and shutting your eyes. you opened them only a few seconds later when lorenzo shifted next to you. you were met with his worried face, just a couple of centimeters away from yours. when you didn't budge, he touched your cheek with the back of his hand, frowning.

"you're burning up." he kept his voice down, but his tone was giving away the fact that your state concerned him greatly. you waved a dismissive hand, closing your eyes again. he poked you to make you look at him.

"have you went to madam pomfrey?" he questioned. you shook your head. if looks could kill, his probably would have.

"i'll go later." you reassured him poorly, just to get him to stop. the last thing you needed was getting all flustered and emotional because he was showing more interest in taking care of you than anybody else in your circle of friends.

"your later usually means never," he was right. you hated that. you grunted, hiding your reddening face. that was both from the fever and from him, "hey." he threw his arm around you when he didn't get a resonse. you leaned into his touch faster than you thought you would, just searching for any sort of warmth there was.

other students were giggling, but he couldn't care less, "y/n."

you lifted your head again, and then allowed it to fall against his shoulder. mcgonagall stepped through the classroom door shortly after that, her mouth dropping a little when she saw the position you were in. she was gonna scold you for displaying your affection so publicly, but lorenzo quickly explained the situation, and before you were able to protest, she shooed the both of you outside.

he immediately intertwined your fingers, walking at a slower pace than usual, not wanting to tire you more. as annoyed as that made you, you didn't pull your hand away, and instead kept your body close to his. he was muttering something, scolding you for being so dismissive and not getting this fixed right away. you were too exhausted to argue, but he was right anyway.

you inhaled sharply as your headache increased in intensity, latching onto his arm and stopping in your tracks. you shut you eyes, thinking it would help and ease it a bit. you felt him move to stand in front of you. his forehead fell against yours and his hands cupped your cheeks gently. you held onto him, taking a few deep breaths through your nose. his thumbs grazed over your skin ever so slightly, as if that his was his way of trying to soothe you.

eventually, your eyes fluttered open, but neither of you let the other go. lorenzo broke the silence between you, "you're so bloody stubborn."

"you're one to talk." you chuckled dryly, hugging him a bit tighter. he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, waiting for you to give him a sign that you were ready to walk again. when you nodded, he took your hand again, leading you to the hospital wing.

madam pomfrey had you going back to normal with a simple flick of her wand after a tiny scolding, and then she pinched lorenzo's cheek and called him a "good boy" for being so caring. the unexpected praise had his eyes going wide and he was blushing madly – you were never gonna let him forget that one.

she instructed you to come back if the cold returned, but she was addressing lorenzo more than she was you. a smart move on her part, the older woman knew you and your headstrong ways well enough. she ushered you out only after she made sure were in perfect shape to head back to class, though you couldn't do it without rubbing her comment into lorenzo face until he turned completely red again. he had to tickle you to get you to stop and you caused a bit of a commotion in the silent corridors, but that didn't matter. you returned to the transfiguration classroom with your pinkies intertwined, all eyes on you. you two really needed to talk.

and what are the odds of him being caring enough to check up on you later that day. he knew he wouldn't find you in your dorm, or the common room, or the library, or the astronomy tower. instead, he headed to the only other place on his mind, where the two of you often hung out on nights when neither of you could sleep.

you were sat on one of the stone walls in the courtyard, a cigarette in your hand, kind of forgotten. you hadn't noticed that it was burning out, or the occasional ash landing on your clothes. your thoughts were going places, recalling the many events that occured during the past few months, and what on earth you were going to do about your feelings. you could hide them from your friends for some time, but not from lorenzo. you blew out a frustrated breath, pinching the bridge of your nose. being straightforward with that idiot was always easy. you never had trouble with telling him exactly what you meant.

the fact that you were anxious about it now was the most maddening thing in the world.

"what a depressing sight." you flinched, whipping your head in lorenzo's direction almost instantly. you couldn't tell if that was luck or misfortune. you snorted, rolling your eyes and offering him the remainder of your cigarette. he gladly took it, joining you in silence.

"why are you here?" you questioned.

"came to check up on you." he replied.

"i can take care of myself just fine." you patted his back. he seemed unphased. of course he was, he knew he'd win that argument.

you glimpsed up at the sky shortly. it was snowing just a little bit. you turned to lorenzo, a pleading expression on your face, "walk with me?"

he nodded, tossing the cigarette butt into the snow. you left the school grounds once again knowing that you wouldn't make it back before curfew, but that wasn't something the either of you dwelled on very much. there were more important things to get worried about.

it was obvious that you kept dodging the subject, settling for talking about things so insignificant that you would probably tell somebody to shut up if they brought them up in conversation on a normal day. being ballsy wasn't your thing anymore, as it seemed.

as cowardly as you felt, the sore winner in you wasn't letting you back down. a long internal debate and a silent minute of self-deprecation was what it took to make you finally speak your mind... to an extent, "have you ever felt incredibly guilty about being wrong about someone?"

lorenzo stared at you as if you were insane. it was a little too early on in the conversation for him to start connecting the dots. his street-smarts were sometimes lacking.

"you sure your cold didn't come back?" he pressed his hand against your forehead. you let out a startled laugh, observing his questioning face.

"what?" you spluttered, shoving your hands further into your pockets. the skeptical look in his eyes was making you nervous.

"you're admitting that you were wrong about something?" he sounded unconvinced, but there was a hint of jest in his voice.

you bit your tongue, clearing your throat awkwardly, "yes." you breathed out. he nodded, a way to tell you to go on. he was definitely interested. you were beginning to suspect that he already knew what you were gonna say.

"i mean," you grunted, cursing quietly, "you know when you spend years convinced that somebody is an awful person and claiming you hate their guts but then end up realising that they aren't nearly as terrible as you thought when you get to know them properly?" you explained frustratedly, resisting the temptation to kick the snow piling at your feet.

his mouth fell open in surprise for a moment, but he quickly shut it, running a hand through his hair, "uh, yeah, actually." he uttered nervously, scanning your face for any sign of humour. but you weren't playing around, and certainly not lying. he had been around you enough to be able to tell when you were being truthful.

you gave him a brief nod, looking everywhere but at him. you barely noticed that your hands were shaking. you contined walking on, not saying a single thing. if he were to tell you that he could hear your heart beating, you wouldn't even have the time to act surprised.

"i have to tell you something." he stopped in his tracks, grabbing your elbow in order to make your steps halt. you faced him, looking down at your feet, waiting for him to drop the bomb. he chewed on his lip anxiously, running a hand through his hair.

"i, um," he was struggling, not exactly knowing how to begin. how to formulate that sentence, even. he wished he could just show you. he reached to take your hand, and you let him, standing there motionless.

it was his turn to panic, "i- fuck." he met your gaze. you knew that look. you knew that bloody look he gave you when you were both thinking the same thing. two years prior it would have been something along the lines of i want to kill you. but it had turned into something that was a lot closer to i want to kiss you. you wanted to fucking cry.

you nodded, breathing out and blinking your tears away. he almost sighed in relief, cupping your cheeks, and that's when your lips pressed against the last pair of lips you thought you'd ever be kissing.

you reached up to touch his face – that pretty face you once hated the sight of, but then couldn't get enough of. you pulled back only for a moment, only to connect again, neither letting the other go. your kisses were unhurried, soft, and loving, despite months upon months of pining, despite the years of pent up hate that was, at the end of day, sort of bound to blossom into love.

at the end of your seventh year, when you were leaving hogwarts hand in hand, mcgonagall stopped you on the way out. it was only then that she told you what had actually happened that gloomy day october, the one that practically sealed your fates for eternity. the overflow of different emotions was too strong for you to have time to act shocked, and you pulled the woman into a big hug, thanking her with teary eyes. for putting up with you for so many years, and for managing to do the unimaginable.

#lorenzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire x you #lorenzo berkshire imagine #louis partridge #louis partridge x reader #louis partridge imagine #theodore nott #draco malfoy #mattheo riddle #blaise zabini #pansy parkinson #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader

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punctuation-completionist · 7 months

Text

since today is punctuation day, i figured i'd talk with you about my favorite punctuation that is sadly not in unicode

(my apologies if these crop weird)

these six marks were invented by french writer hervé bazin in his essay plumons l'oiseau (or 'let's pluck the bird')

while the essay also had aim to switch the french language to a more phonetic writing system, it also gave us six new punctuation marks!

from left to right and top to bottom these are, the acclamation point, the authority mark, the conviction point, the doubt point, the irony mark, and the love point. so let's go over what these all were supposed to convey! (or at least what i expect they were supposed to)

the acclamation point was meant for praise, goodwill, and enthusiasm (ie "Well done [acclamation point]")

the authority mark was meant to be used in situations where the exclamation was serious and involved a degree of command or urgency (ie "Get in my office right now [authority mark]") i think this— along with the love point and irony mark— shows how a lot of these punctuation marks were a bit like early examples of tone tags, i'll get into it more later

the certitude point was used to show sureness in a fact. (ie "It's absolutely positively true [certitude point]") i think this might be the most useless of the bunch but whatever. i digress.

the doubt point is kind of the opposite of the certitude point, used when you aren't sure of something (ie "It should be done tomorrow [doubt point]") also it should be noted that the example used above is not the only way you'll see the doubt point, some also have it looking like this

the idea of irony marks has been widely suggested, for example the poet/art critic/song writer (i think, this guy's only wiki page is in french and i am guessing a bit on the word 'chansonnier') alcanter de brahm suggested an irony mark that resembled a backwards question mark (not to be confused with the percontation point which indicated a rhetorical question) and belgian inventor (among other things) marcellin jobard suggested a point that looked like an upwards arrow (this △ on top of this |, i can't paste it)

^ de brahm's mark

all that to say, bazin's mark was based off of the greek letter psi (Ψ) which some of you may recognize if you are familiar with the greek language or comics that shall not be named. it's used in situations of irony (ie saying "Wow, that sure was brilliant [irony mark]" if someone did something stupid)

and our last point is the love point, known for being so adorable, and indicating love or affection after a sentence (ie "Thanks a lot bud [love point]")

now we can obviously see that some of these are very similar to tone tags! the love point could be like a /pos, the irony mark is kinda like a /sarc, the authority mark could be like a /srs . i just thought it was interesting i guess. i don't have a point (heh) here exactly except that i guess people might actually need these punctuation marks ? so unicode? give me the love point or give me death

anyways so that's some fun niche history for y'all! hope you enjoyed

#punctuation #not counting #i mean i know there's like. things you can use but i don't like them as much #side note. why are all of these people french. bazin was french. de brahm was french. jobard was belgian but he was born in french afaik #and belgium is a francophone country... is there something about the french language that makes everyone start just making new punctuation #i mean to be fair i am in french and i did try to remake the entire language with like seven grammatical genders #so maybe it's just a thing #punctuation day

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jjunieworld · 3 months

Text

february 14th 𓍼 🌾 ·˚ ༘

pairing: kang taehyun x fem!reader

genre: angst, some fluff if you squint, strangers (kinda) to lovers, college au, major character death, death in general (both on page and mentioned), kinda dead dove, talks about grief

synopsis: this has to be the worst day of your life. and just your luck, the day keeps repeating. over and over again. and you don’t know why. you get to relive the same day where you finally garner the courage to ask your crush, kang taehyun, out and get to relive the part where he rejects you each time.

word count: 13.6k┊masterlist

a/n: omg first 10k+ word fic!! happy birthday tyun!! this is lowkey inspired by a manga series called orange (which is one of my all time favorite mangas! you should really check it out because it’s so so so good but please look up tws), that one episode of supernatural where sam repeats the same day, and lowkey life is strange lmao. i am so so sorry my baby hyuka :( this was really interesting to write tho, so i hope you enjoy! ♡

if you had to experience another valentine’s day over again, you’d personally find and kill cupid yourself. you were sick of this day, sick of your confession, sick of the stupid crush you had. and most of all, you were sick of being stuck in this fucking time loop.

you don’t even know how you got in this situation. how the universe decided that, yes, y/n should experience the day where she gets rejected by her crush over and over again! wouldn’t that be so much fun? rest assured, it is not.

no matter what you did, your confession of liking kang taehyun always came to the surface, no matter how much you avoided him. whether that be from your actual mouth, or from someone else’s somehow. you didn’t even know how, since you haven’t told anybody about your crush—well, except your roommate chaewon, but that was purely coincidental and you were sure she wouldn’t tell anyone. and no matter what you did, or how you acted, or how you dressed, taehyun would always reject you.

this all had to be some sick joke that everyone was in on. what was the point of it all? you sighed as you woke up in your room, once again, on valentine’s day.

you looked over to your nightstand like you have for the five hundred and forty-seventh time. the confession letter you had spent so long on the night before—well, not the night before—was laying there. it's pretty pink paper with elaborate cursive writing, love doodles, and glitter mocking you. you glared at it as you got ready for your classes. you had tried once to leave it at your dorm room, to not give it to taehyun at all, but then your roommate showed up with it in the hallways.

“y/n! you forgot your confession letter to taehyun!” your roommate, chaewon, had practically yelled as she jogged over to where you were coming out of your class. heads turned to the both of you and you wished you could be six feet under. you quickly glanced around and made direct eye contact with taehyun, who was frozen mid stride with an open notebook in hand. you fled the scene and avoided him like the plague for the rest of the day, only for him to come up to you himself as you were getting lunch a good ways away from campus. “hey… about the confession letter… i’m really flattered, truly, but it just isn’t gonna work between us. i’m not looking for a relationship right now, i’m sorry.” he had said, before turning and walking away, leaving you gaping in the restaurant.

those words have been replaying in your head over and over for the past five hundred and forty-two loops. “it just isn’t gonna work between us,” at least he was kind about it.

you were tempted to just stay in your pajamas, but you’ve already done that last loop. yawning as you put your bookbag over your shoulders, you exited your dorm room and made your way to your first class of the day. no matter how much sleep you get in each loop, you were still dead tired. courtesy of staying up all night the night you made the confession letter.

realization hits you and you turn back towards your dorm at the same time that chaewon comes out of it, your confession letter in her hand. “y/n, you forgot your confession letter!” the both of you say at the same time, you mainly copying what she has said so many times before. “i know,” you added. chaewon’s eyes widened in shock, a smile spreading across her face. you took the letter from her and shoved it deep within your bookbag, definitely crumpling it.

“i’m in a time loop, chaewon. i know exactly what you’re gonna say.” you sighed and ran a hand down your face as you stifled another yawn. “sure, i can guess the next three words that are gonna come out of your mouth. lemon, eight, and cutie patootie, which are four words by the way.”

chaewon’s face dropped even more in shock. you just sighed deeper. “i’m gonna need your help today. that confession letter i made last night… it cannot get to taehyun. do you hear me?” chaewon just nodded and you gave a small nod back. you turned and began your way to your class again.

luckily for you, you shared your first class with taehyun. photography 101 with mr. kim. today’s class dealt with polaroid cameras, which you were also sick of dealing with. you sat in the empty seat near the window where you always sat and got your notebook out as class started to begin. if you were honest, you chose this seat cause it gives you the best view of your crush. the sunlight filtered hazily through the window illuminating taehyun’s features, making him look even more dreamy. it probably wasn’t the best idea, since you spent most of the class staring at him and wanting to take a picture of him; rather than paying attention to your teacher and what he wanted you to take pictures of.

you tried your hardest to focus this loop around. you wished that after how many times you lived this day, your crush would just disappear. i mean, you would think getting rejected five hundred and forty-six times would help right? wrong.

at first, you thought of the time loop as a blessing in disguise. there to help you fix your mistakes and finally get the guy you’ve been crushing on for a while now. wrong, again. for the first hundred or so loops you tried everything in your power to curate yourself to taehyun’s tastes. even going so far to dye your hair and buy a bunch of new clothes. nothing worked. it was hopeless. so now you’ve been spending the past four hundred and so on loops trying to get out of the loop. also hopeless. you just couldn’t crack what was keeping you here, on this day. and why you of all people.

mr. kim had given all the students in the class polaroid cameras, not the modern ones, but one of those old ones from the ninties. you rushed to get your things as class ended, polaroid camera in hand, when you ran face first into someone and spilled the contents of your half open bookbag all over the floor.

the polaroid camera had fallen from your hands and bounced off your foot, snapping a picture and momentarily blinding you with the flash. “if that camera is broken y/n you will be paying for it!” mr. kim’s voice had loudly spoken as you blinked rapidly and tried to get the spots out of your eyes.

“sorry!” you mumbled to whoever you bumped into as you crouched to the floor to grab your things. they crouched next to you and helped you. “don’t worry about it!” you heard a familiar voice say. you froze, hand in the air ready to grab your notebook, as taehyun’s voice rang through your ears.

the letter, you thought. the gears in your brain started working again, breaking you out of your frozen state, and you began getting your things off the floor faster. you shoved them into your bookbag without caring if things got bent or folded. taehyun handed you a couple textbooks, which you all but snatched from him, and also shoved those into your bookbag. after getting to your feet, you mumbled another sorry, before turning to fly out the door again.

“y/n, wait!” taehyun called from behind you. you froze again. please don’t be the letter, please don’t be the letter, please don’t be the le— you thought. you slowly turned and saw him rise to his feet, your notebook in hand. he held it out to you, a small smile on his face. “you almost forgot this,” taehyun spoke.

“thank you,” you replied in a small voice, returning his smile. you took the notebook from him and bolted out the class. on the brightside, at least it would’ve been a short loop if taehyun had grabbed the letter. no doubt, once he saw the big ‘to taehyun, from y/n’ on the front in big glittery letters he would’ve rejected you right then and there and the day would restart.

the only time the day has progressed past the rejection was the first ever day, before the loop started. you had been so excited to give taehyun the letter, even if the sleepiness was tearing you apart. it was valentine’s day, the day of love, and you thought that today was absolutely perfect to tell him about your feelings. after all, at least you wouldn’t be alone in sharing your feelings for someone.

everywhere you looked, new couples sprang up. it made you giddy inside. that’s going to be me, you thought. you couldn’t wait, you had the whole confession planned out. after your classes for the day were over, you were gonna wait outside the arts building for taehyun. the sun would be setting and with the perfect backdrop of a beautiful sunset, you would hand him your letter. taehyun would read it, a smile crossing his face, and he would accept your confession, making your wish come true. it would be written in the shooting stars. then the two of you would start dating and run off into said sunset, blah blah blah.

except, that’s not how it all happened. you waited outside the arts building, the setting sun in the background. you had waited for forty-five minutes, unaware that the class was delayed thirty minutes and that taehyun would stay behind for another fifteen for help from the teacher. by the time he came out, it was dark outside. you were cold and annoyed, and the confession letter was held limply in your hand, spare glitter piling up on the ground.

when you had silently handed it to him, he looked at the monstrosity in shock. it was clear at first glance he knew what it was, and it was only made even more apparent when he opened the envelope and read the letter inside. “o-oh…” he stuttered out, and your heart dropped and the deliberate blankness of his face. “y/n, i’m—“ that’s all you could bear to hear before you just nodded and swallowed thickly, tears rimming your eyes, and ran off.

you had cried in your dorm room all night. the whole interaction replaying in your head as you wished and wished for a miracle until you fell asleep from exhaustion. imagine your shock when you woke up again, confession letter on your nightstand and the day reading as valentine’s day. a joke, it all was, all you hoped. it wasn’t. only one good thing came from the time loop, nobody remembered anything from the previous loop. only the previous day, february thirteenth.

you had gotten back to your dorm room, not having classes until later in the day and desperate for sleep, when you stepped out of the way of chaewon’s hands. “how did you—oh my god! you really are in a time loop!” chaewon exclaimed. you stepped past her and made your way to your dresser to change your clothes. “yes, and i’m very tired and would like to sleep the day away.”

“well, what about taehyun? what about your confession? does he know yet?” chaewon asked as you slipped some shorts and a plain t-shirt on. you turned to her, shaking your head. “no, and it’s for the best that he never finds out.”

chaewon furrowed her eyebrows. “why did something bad happen in the last loop? how many times have you relieved this day?” you just laughed wryly, “you have absolutely no idea.”

“we gotta find some way to sway his mind!” she then exclaimed. you shook your head furiously, sitting down heavily on your bed. “there’s no use, chaewon. he doesn’t like me like that. like, at all.” you tried to keep the sadness from creeping into your tone. chaewon sat on her bed, a pout on her lips. “the only thing we can do is make sure that he doesn’t even see the letter at all,” you added.

“well where is it? have you tried burning it?” chaewon asked. you stood to retrieve your book bag. “i have actually, didn’t work.” it was around the two hundredth loop when you were getting deeply frustrated. there was a campfire party happening that you went to after avoiding taehyun for the whole day. you had thought that you were finally in the clear, even let yourself begin to hope a little. that’s when you decided to just burn the letter and let it all be done with.

it sat in the fire, the edges burning, before a magical gust of wind blew it out of the embers. right into taehyun’s hands.

you literally couldn’t believe your eyes. there was literally no way that the letter just did that. that’s when you knew that this loop was a curse, that you’d be doomed to repeat this day until the end of time. and probably after that too. your mouth had dropped, taehyun looked over to you with furrowed eyebrows. you get the rest.

“i know, you don’t like me…” you had trailed off, overlapping his words. you turned to walk away and the next thing you knew, you were waking up in your bed again.

you were rummaging through your messy bookbag when chaewon replied, “have you tried confessing to someone else?” you paused and turned to her. “i haven’t… actually…” you trailed in thought. this whole time you were so focused on your feelings for taehyun, you hadn’t even thought about anyone else. “i’m not sure it would even work,” you said. “even after all this time i still like him.”

“well, you have all this time… why don’t you try to start developing feelings for someone else and get over the feelings you have for taehyun?” chaewon said. you thought it over for a second. that doesn’t sound that bad of an idea. you already know that taehyun doesn’t and never will like you back, so what’s the harm? maybe it’ll actually work and you can be free from this loop. “who would i even like?” you asked, momentarily abandoning your bag.

chaewon pressed her lips together for a moment before shrugging. “there’s plenty of attractive people here, you could choose anybody!” you sighed deeply. “i can’t just choose someone to like… it doesn’t really work that way.” chaewon shrugged again. “it could at least help!”

you guess she was somewhat right. narrow the pool of people. you could go based on personality, or at least those the personalities you know of. whichever personalities clash with yours can get crossed off. “whatever,” you mumbled. “i guess it could work. i’ll think about it.” chaewon clapped happily as you returned to your bag for the letter.

heart dropping, you flipped your bag over and watched the contents inside fall to the floor. looking through the pile frantically, you came up with nothing. the letter was gone. chaewon called your name and you looked up at her, face paled. “it’s gone… the letter… it’s gone.” she crouched down next to you with furrowed brows and began searching herself. when she came up with nothing also, she sat back on the ground. “if you don’t have it, then where is it?”

that’s when you noticed a polaroid tucked under one of your notebooks. you pulled it out and stared at it. chaewon leaned over to get a look at it too. “taehyun must have it,” you said. the polaroid was a blurry picture of you and taehyun from class earlier that morning. “but if he has it…” you trailed. if he has it, then why hasn’t the day restarted?

you and chaewon spent the next forty-five minutes searching every nook and cranny of your room for the letter and still came up with nothing. you had explained to her how the time loop worked—as far as you knew it—and what it meant if taehyun had seen the letter. “so what does this mean?” chaewon asked, the two of you were sitting on your floor after cleaning up the mess you made. “i have no idea,” you replied. “i hope it means that all of this is over. but who knows if he actually has the letter. maybe somebody else picked it up when i dropped all my stuff.”

picking up the polaroid again, you stared hard at it. stupid camera. if you hadn't focused so much on it, you wouldn’t have ran into taehyun and dropped the letter in the first place. you rose to your feet, your class was about to start. “you’ll find it, y/n. and then maybe this whole day will stop repeating.” chaewon spoke, trying to comfort you. you just nodded solemnly, setting the polaroid on your desk.

suddenly you felt super dizzy and nauseous, and there was a heaviness on your heart. you held your stomach as you doubled over. chaewon jumped to her feet, her hand coming to your back as she bent to see your face. “y/n? what’s wrong?” all you could do was shake your head. you didn’t know. you’ve never felt like this before.

the next thing you knew, you were waking up in your bed to your alarm. you looked around your empty dorm room with confused eyes. did the day restart? you looked to your nightstand. there the letter sat. slowly, you got out of your bed and stood in front of it.

how weird. that has never happened when you restarted a loop before. taehyun didn’t even reject you, the day just started over. maybe it doesn’t have to be face to face? but, you didn’t get a text or anything. and if it was a mental thing, the day would be over before you even woke up.

you were getting ready for the day when chaewon came in from her early morning class. quickly, you explained to her the time loop again and proved the validity of your statement. “we’ll talk later about it, i have to get to class.” you said as you turned to the door. that’s when your eye caught something.

the polaroid you accidentally took from the last loop. it was still sitting on your desk in the exact place you sat it down. you ran over to your desk and snatched the picture, holding it up. you felt chaewon come up behind you. “what is it? oh! is that you and taehyun? when did you take this?” chaewon asked.

“i didn’t…” you trailed. “at least, not this loop. this is from the last loop. how is it here?” what is going on? chaewon took the polaroid from you to get a closer look. “that is so strange…” you nodded in agreement.

you left for your class after putting the polaroid back in a safe space on your desk. for the most part, the day was the same, except this time you took your time with your items and made sure your bookbag was zipped all the way.

when you were walking out of the classroom, you heard your name being called from across the hallway. you panicked for a second, thinking you forgot the letter and chaewon was here to spill your crush again. turning to the direction your name was called, you were shocked to see taehyun walking up to you.

your throat closed up the closer and closer he got until he was standing in front of you and you could hardly breathe. this was it, the letter somehow slipped from your bookbag and ended up magically in his hands. he was here to reject you and the day would repeat again and again. “i have more classes, but do you mind if we talk later on today? this afternoon?” taehyun asked. your eyes widened.

what did he want to talk about? you racked your brain for answers that didn’t come to you. this never happened in a loop before. usually, taehyun just straight up rejects you. “uh—sure!” you manage to push out, a nervous smile playing on your lips. he smiled back, handing you a small piece of paper with his number on it. “i’ll text you the when and where.” you nodded numbly as he said goodbye and walked away. did you just get his number? just like that?

“what do you think he wants to talk about?” you asked chaewon. “do you think he remembers the last loop? knows why it ended so abruptly and why that polaroid remained?” she sat across from you on the floor, a puzzled look on her face that was the same as yours. she thought for a moment before shrugging. “i honestly have no idea…” her face then lit up with a thought. “what if your letter from the last loop remained too and since he allegedly had it, he read it early? but since it’s the basis of the loop—or so you think—it got copied somehow?”

that actually didn’t sound too far off. it would help make sense of the way the last loop ended. also on why he suddenly wanted to talk to you. “you might be onto something, chaewon…” you trailed as you thought more on what she said. “but the loop resets when he rejects me, and he always rejects me. so if he had already read it, he would’ve already rejected me.”

“maybe the rules changed… you did say he didn’t explicitly reject you last loop. maybe things are changing. maybe the loop is starting to end and that’s why all these weird things are happening?” chaewon interjected. you sighed deeply and just shrugged. your head was spinning from it all. “i guess i’ll find out later today.” just in that moment you got a text from taehyun. you had texted him earlier saying that this was your number.

hey, it’s taehyun! can we meet at the benches next to the arts building in three hours?

you breathed in sharply. chaewon leaned over and pulled your phone down so she could read the text. “let me know what he says!” you just laughed a little and nodded, standing to your feet to get ready for your next class. you typed a quick text back to him.

yeah, that works for me. see you there!

you heart was pounding rapidly in your chest. you hoped that what chaewon said was true, that things were changing and the loops were finally coming to an end. you don’t know how much longer of this time loop you could take.

it was the meeting time for you to see taehyun. you had grabbed the polaroid from the last loop from your desk to ask him about and see if he had any answers. the chill of the morning had settled into a cool warmth. you saw taehyun waiting for you on the bench and felt goosebumps rise on your skin as you wished you brought a jacket.

his head turned to you at the sound of your approaching footsteps and he rose to his feet. “hi,” you said shyly as the both of you sat on the bench. you sat your bookbag on the bench next to you. “hi,” he replied, a small smile on his face. “what did you want to talk about?” you asked him.

taehyun turned to dig in his bag. your hands shook slightly in anticipation. he then turned back to you, a crumpled envelope in his hands. it was your confession letter. confusion washed over you. but your letter was in your bag? taehyun opened his mouth to speak but you held up a hand to stop him.

reaching in your bag, you grabbed your letter and held it out next to the one taehyun had and compared the two. they were exactly the same, except for taehyun’s version being crumpled and a little worse for wear. was chaewon right? both you and taehyun stared at the letters in confusion. “impossible…” you muttered under your breath.

you looked up at him, “there’s no way you should have this letter…” you were truly at a loss for words. taehyun’s confused eyes looked at you. “you dropped it…” taehyun began to speak before trailing off. you stared at each other for a moment.

“no, i didn’t—i mean i did, but that was… you shouldn’t—what is happening?” you stumbled over your words.

“wait… you remember dropping it? when we bumped into each other?” taehyun asked you. you stared at him with wide eyes. instead of answering his question you asked, “you’ve been repeating this day too?”

taehyun looked taken aback for a second before slowly nodding. your eyes never left him as you thought about what this meant. all those loops of you pining, changing yourself, and obsessing over his acception; all those things you did to try and get him to like you, he remembers? all those loops he rejected you over and over… you knew he didn’t like you, that much was obvious, but the fact that he remembered every five hundred and forty-eighth rejection caused your heart to hurt in a way you never thought it could.

embarrassment heated your cheeks. in order to save face a little bit, you turned and reached in your own bag for the polaroid. you held it out next to the matching letters. “how did these survive the last loop if…” you trailed off as you snuck a glance at him. you didn’t want to bring up how he rejects you each time you confess to him. he gently took the polaroid from your hands as he analyzed it.

taehyun’s face lit up briefly and he pulled out the polaroid camera from his bag. suddenly, you were blinded by the flash as he aimed the camera towards you. “hey! what the—“ you got cut off by another flash, this time aimed towards him. you watched him in confusion as he sat the pictures down on top of the letters and you both waited for the pictures to develop.

as the image came in, you could see how the both of you were blurred in them, yet everything else wasn’t. you leaned forward slightly to see them closer. even the bench wasn’t blurred. you took the camera from taehyun and ran up to the random person walking past. “photography assignment, sorry!” you muttered out before aiming the camera at the two of you steadily and taking a picture. the person looked at you weirdly before continuing on their way.

you walked back over to taehyun as the photo developed and stopped right in front of him in shock as the image developed. “what is it?” taehyun asked, standing to his feet and coming by your side.

in the polaroid, it was only you who was blurred, not the other person. “this is so weird…” you breathed. taehyun nodded in agreement. “do you think this has to do with the time loop?” he then asked, referring to the blurriness. shrugging a little, you leaned over to the bench and grabbed the other three polaroids and held them all together. “it has to,” you replied.

you then turned to him, “how does the loop end for you? is it different each time or does something specific trigger it?” taehyun’s eyes suddenly averted and you saw his shoulders sag ever so slightly. he moves to sit back on the bench. “um… it’s my friend… he—he dies.” your eyes widen and you stare at him for a moment, mouth agape. “oh! oh… i’m so sorry taehyun…” you trailed off, also sitting on the bench.

taehyun clears his throat, opting to change the subject. “how does it restart for you?” taehyun asks. you hesitate for a second. is it appropriate to bring up him rejecting you after he just told you that his friend dying resets his loop? “uh… well, this feels really inappropriate to bring up after everything, but it’s when you reject me.” you manage to push out. taehyun’s eyebrows raise as he glances over to you. the awkwardness in the air is so thick you’d have trouble cutting it with a knife.

“wait…” you trail off. you haven’t heard anything about someone dying today. does that mean he experiences more of the day than you do? “your day extends farther than mine does. if we’re both in the same loop, how does that work?” taehyun hummed in thought. “i’m not sure… but without any interruptions or changes, my day always ends at the same time. eight forty-five P.M.” he then looked up to you. “have you made it that far? or past it?”

you looked down at your feet, not wanting to meet his gaze. it only happened a couple of times, enough to count on one hand. the last being the one where you tried burning the letter and it didn’t work. “a handful of times, but it was only by avoiding giving you the letter. you always ended up with it somehow…” you replied. taehyun nodded, more to himself. he must’ve remembered the times. “well there’s two letters now,” taehyun motioned to the letters, “so maybe the loop will change? i mean, i obviously know about the letter and the contents and you’re still here. that has to mean something, right?” you nodded in agreement, ignoring the fact that he essentially just rejected you again. it honestly didn’t even phase you anymore after all this time.

“what if our loops merged and mine now ends when yours does?” you threw out. it would make sense as to why you’re still on the bench talking. taehyun shrugged, “it’s possible…”

you turned to him fully, your hopeful eyes gleaming in the sunny afternoon light. “there’s two of us now, i can help you save your friend! and we can get them and chaewon together and come up with a plan! maybe saving them is what gets us out of the time loop.” when you noticed that he wasn’t responding, you shrunk back a little into the bench. “…if you’re okay with that.” you added in a quiet voice.

you could practically see the gears in taehyun’s head turning as he thought. it was another moment before he opened his mouth to respond to your proposal. “i guess it wouldn’t hurt… and while we’re at it we can test the time loop merging theory.” taehyun finally said. a wide grin pushed its way onto your face. you began cleaning up your things, making sure to shove the letter back into your bag even if he already knew about it, as you stood to your feet. taehyun gave you a confused look.

“where are you going?” he asked you. you gave him a confused smile, “to go get your friend and chaewon… if we’re gonna save your friend we have to start now!” taehyun slowly began cleaning his stuff up. “but… we have classes…” you let out a loud laugh and taehyun stood to his feet after putting his stuff away. “what’s a class that you’ve experienced almost six hundred times to saving your friend?”

taehyun slowly started to nod, “you’re right.” you nodded back to him. “of course i am. let’s go save your friend!” you grabbed his wrist and pulled him in the direction of the dorms. chaewon didn’t have a class right now, if you remember correctly.

you wished you were in a loop of seeing chaewon’s face when you brought taehyun to your dorm room instead of him rejecting you. chaewon in fact didn’t have classes, you were right. you pushed the door open to your shared dorm room, scaring her half to death. chaewon’s eyes widened and her mouth went slack as you pulled taehyun into the room and shut the door.

“change of plans…” you spoke, turning to the two of them. you motioned a finger in between you and taehyun. “he’s in a time loop too and we’re gonna save his friend from dying.” if chaewon’s jaw could drop further it would. she sputtered for a moment, trying to push her words out. “i know, i know. i was shocked and very embarrassed too. but we have work to do.”

taehyun turned to you. “embarrassed?” he asked. you felt your cheeks heat up. did he really have to ask that question? “well… you did reject me almost six hundred times. and you have memories of every single one. that is very embarrassing for me…” you turned away from him, suddenly finding your desk very interesting, as you talked. you heard an “oh…” from behind you and felt yourself die a little more inside.

you pulled out an empty unused notebook from your desk drawer and turned back to chaewon and taehyun. chaewon managed to pick her jaw off the floor and her eyes weren’t as wide. “who are we saving?” chaewon asked. the two of you turned to taehyun. his eyes widened ever so slightly from the sudden spotlight. “um… his name is hueningkai. he’s my best friend.” chaewon nodded, looking down slightly. “let’s get to work then! we have people to save, everyone!”

taehyun then led the two of you back to where hueningkai’s class was happening, which was building b. the three of you were standing outside of his classroom when taehyun glanced inside. “he’s still in class, but we can just wait—“ he was cut off by you barging into the classroom. another good thing that came out of this loop is that you pretty much don’t have fear about anything anymore—for the most part.

you looked back at taehyun as the teacher stopped mid sentence and the group of students stared at you confused. “which one is him?” you asked him. taehyun gaped at you, eyes wide. you sighed and turned back to the class. “hueningkai?” you asked aloud. “please step forward. uh… it’s very import—important business that you’re needed for.” you then remembered the teacher and quickly added, “the dean sent us.”

the teacher waved his hand and a guy close to the back stood slowly. hueningkai packed his things up and made his way to the front of the classroom. you gave him an awkward smile as the two of you walked out of the classroom, shutting the door behind you.

it was dead silent as the four of you walked out of the building. once you were in the clear of listening ears, you stopped and turned. hueningkai’s eyebrows were raised in confusion, an awkward smile on his face, as he looked between you and taehyun. “there’s no important business from the dean, she lied,” chaewon said. taehyun stepped towards hueningkai. “look, kai, this is gonna sound really weird but—“

you stepped to hueningkai and put your hands on his shoulders as you looked him in the eyes. “listen man, you’re gonna die today.” you heard a gasp come from behind you and taehyun started to say your name. you ignored both. “but that’s okay! because us two—” you motioned to you and taehyun with a finger “—are stuck in a time loop and we’re gonna save you!” you released him and took a couple steps back, nodding to yourself with a satisfied smile.

hueningkai looked absolutely terrified. “i’m gonna die?!” he exclaimed, taking a step back. chaewon took quick steps towards him, trying to give comfort. “no! well… i mean, yes, but we’re gonna stop that from happening!” she gave you a sharp glare and you noticed that taehyun had his head in his hands. maybe telling him outright was a bad idea…

taehyun pushed the two of you back. “kai… you get into an accident at eight forty-five… you don’t end up making it. i’ve been trapped in this time loop trying to make sure that you don’t die.” hueningkai took a deep breath as he stared at taehyun with furrowed eyebrows. he then ran a hand through his dark hair. “okay… so i die today. never thought i would say that.” hueningkai looked between the three of you. “so how do i not die today?”

you pulled the notebook out of your bag as you began coming up with the pillars of the plan. “first, we all go together in some safe space where we know nothing’s going to happen to you. also so we can see how far we can push the day before it resets for taehyun and i.” you started. “how about our dorm room?” chaewon asked. you turned to taehyun and hueningkai. they looked at each for a second before shrugging. “let’s head there now then!” you added.

thankfully nothing happened on the walk from hueningkai’s class to your dorm room. chaewon had gone out to get snacks and other things for the long night you all were about to have. you all decided that you were gonna skip the rest of your classes as well.

you were in the process of writing the ways that taehyun had tried to save hueningkai that ultimately ended up failing when hueningkai asked, “just how many times have you watched me die?” there was a pained expression on taehyun’s face that he tried to mask with a wistful smile. he looked towards you, “how many loops has it been now?” you stopped to think. “this is the five hundred and forty-ninth loop.” taehyun turned back to hueningkai. “um… about five hundred and forty-seven times, give or take.” hueningkai’s face paled significantly.

taehyun scrunched his face up as he looked back towards you. “if this loop just resets, what’s the point of writing this all down then?” that made you stop dead in your tracks. what was the point? “can’t you take a picture of it?” hueningkai asked. taehyun had filled him in on everything on the walk to the dorms. you looked at him with knitted eyebrows. “well, you said the polaroids stayed when you went into a new loop… just take a picture of it!” he added.

you guess that made sense. “but what if they don’t stay since it’s not of us?” taehyun asked. you pulled your polaroid camera from your bag and held up the notebook next to taehyun’s face as you got close. you quickly snapped the picture and sat it down on the hardwood floor in the center of you all as you waited for it to develop. “problem solved!” you smiled. taehyun blinked rapidly at you.

just then, chaewon came through the door with a couple bags in her hands. “i got snacks!” she exclaimed. she sat them on her desk and sat in the empty spot of the semi-circle. “what did i miss?” she asked as she leaned over to look at the newly developed polaroid on the ground. “writing down all the ways taehyun failed to save my life!” hueningkai laughed, before he saw the grave expression on taehyun’s face. “joking!” he then quickly added. hueningkai put his hand on taehyun’s shoulder. “it’s okay taehyun, we’re gonna figure it out. i’m gonna get saved and you’re both gonna get out of this time loop!”

“speaking of…” you trailed. you held the camera up so the four of you were all in frame. “say cheese!” you said, smiling for the camera. you heard a chorus of “cheese!” behind you as you snapped the picture. you sat that polaroid next to the other one on the floor. “just to make explaining more easier.” you added.

“if you keep snapping pictures you’re gonna run out of film,” said taehyun. you laughed a little, “it’s practically unlimited, given the loop.” he shrugged slightly, agreeing with you. “have either of you figured out why you’re blurry in the pictures?” chaewon asked you and taehyun. you both shook your head. hueningkai perked up. “maybe it’s because everyone and everything around you is essentially stagnant. like, technically none of us change by the end of the loop. we’ll all reset. but the two of you do—even if it’s not physically. you have the memories and experiences of the past however many loops you’ve been through!”

it was as if suddenly things started to click into place. “you’re right! if you think about it, we’ve been in this loop for like a year and a half days wise. yeah, some days were shorter and longer than others, but a year and a half nonetheless! time around us is kinda frozen if you think about it. maybe the camera picks up on that and we’re blurry because we’re the only things in motion!” you were waving your hands in the air, speaking a mile a minute, hoping you were getting your point across. taehyun’s face lit up more and more as you spoke and he nodded along.

“do you think it’s the same with our phones?” taehyun asked as he pulled out his phone. you all shrugged. he turned the camera towards you all and snapped a picture. taehyun turned back towards you all with a confused expression. hueningkai leaned next to him over his phone. “what is it?” you asked as you leaned forward. “it didn’t even take the picture… how weird,” taehyun replied. you looked over at chaewon. she raised an eyebrow at you, “maybe it’s because it’s new technology?” none of you really had an explanation.

the rest of the night went by pretty insignificantly. you all had gotten a bunch of blankets to make a makeshift bed on the floor for taehyun and hueningkai. everything started to go wrong in the middle of the movie you were all watching.

the four of you were sitting on the floor, a laptop with the movie playing in front of you, when all of a sudden you heard coughing. you snapped your head over to hueningkai, who’s face was turning red by the second. “oh my god! is he choking?” you heard chaewon ask as taehyun started frantically hitting hueningkai’s back. you jumped up to grab a water bottle.

handing the water bottle to hueningkai, he croaks out, “it’s my throat…” he tried getting the water bottle open to no avail. “is he allergic?” you turned to taehyun and asked, referring to the popcorn you were all eating. he was practically drowning hueningkai with water as he rapidly shook his head. hueningkai was turning blue. you, taehyun, and chaewon were all flying around the small dorm room trying anything to help hueningkai but it seemed as if nothing was working.

suddenly, it seemed as if everything stopped. you looked to taehyun, who had frozen in his spot. he looked back to you, his eyes wide and glossy, and you realized that hueningkai’s chest wasn’t moving.

the next moment, you were waking up in your bed the morning of february fourteenth, marking the five hundred and fiftieth loop. you didn’t waste any time. the polaroids from the last loop sat on top of your dresser where you had put them before the movie. you grabbed them just as chaewon came into the dorm room.

convincing her wasn’t that hard to begin with, but it was significantly easier with the polaroids. especially the one of the four of you. the two of you rushed to your morning class that you shared with taehyun, hoping that he has the same idea with hueningkai.

you saw him rushing up the hallway opposite from you, a confused hueningkai in tow. you barely stopped for a breath when you reached them as you pulled out the polaroids. “time loop, understand?” you asked hueningkai. he looked at the polaroid for a brief moment before nodding. you exhaled and doubled over, you and chaewon had practically ran across campus. looking down, you also realized that you were still in your pajamas.

“um… so that didn’t work…” you breathed, turning to taehyun. he simply nodded, eyes to the floor. he too was in his pajamas. the two of you must’ve looked crazy. “i don’t understand…” taehyun trailed off. he led the three of you towards the exit of the building. “if he wasn’t choking, then how did he…” he added, looking off to the side.

you stopped and waved them all over to the bench to sit. taehyun ran his hands through his hair. “i don’t know,” you spoke quietly. chaewon and hueningkai both gave you confused looks. you forgot that they didn’t remember the last loop. quickly, you filled them in on what happened, watching as shocked expression took over their faces.

“and you’re sure you’re not allergic to popcorn?” chaewon asked, leaning forward to look at hueningkai. “butter? salt? anything that goes into making popcorn?” hueningkai shook his head, “no… not at all. i’m confused as to how that happened too.”

taehyun was quiet next to you. his head was in his hands and he was bent over. you put a hand on his back as you leaned down a little. “taehyun?” you asked quietly. you felt him inhale deeply. he sat up slowly and rubbed at his eyes.

“five hundred and fifty times…” taehyun started. “five hundred and fifty times and you would think that i would be somewhat used to it by now. use to death.” he dragged his hands away from his eyes. they landed heavily in his lap. your hand moved from his back to his shoulder. taehyun turned to his right to face hueningkai, “i’m so sorry, kai. i don’t know how to save you.”

you shook your head at that even though he wasn’t facing you. taehyun continued, “at this point, i don’t even know if it’s possible. you would think it would be, given the circumstances, but each loop keeps proving me wrong. i don’t know what else to do, but i can’t just let you die.” his voice cracked as he spoke and got lower and lower until his last sentence was just above a whisper. you felt your heart break at his sentiment.

you couldn’t help but think about how foolish you’ve been for the majority of this time loop. you spent so much time trying to get taehyun to like you back while he’s spent the whole time loop trying to save his best friend from a brutal ending. that time could’ve been spent coming up with ideas together, using your combined ideas to try and save hueningkai from death. but no, you were changing your appearance and crying over the fact he kept rejecting you. how idiotic. your face flushed with shame and embarrassment.

“we are going to save him,” you spoke confidently. taehyun turned to you, his face was stained with tears. “how? i’ve tried everything and nothing has worked.” you stood from the bench, thankfully the area around you wasn’t that populated with students.

“we have to get to the roots of the time loop,” you said, hitting your fist on your palm. “we don’t know how we got into it, we don’t know how to get out of it, and we don’t know why we’re the only two who are initially aware of it. so we have to start listing what we do know and work from there. we both know how the time loop restarts, and it has basically been confirmed that our loop restarts have been merged.” you didn’t want to outright list the reason, it was clear they understood what it was. no use in pushing the knife deeper into the wound.

you continued, “we need to know if there’s a general cutoff point to each loop.” chaewon nodded along, “do you remember what the time was when the last loop ended?” she spoke softly as she glanced over to taehyun and hueningkai. you shook your head. taehyun wiped his cheeks and furrowed his brows. “i think it was midnight?” he said, uncertainty in his voice. “i remember checking my phone like ten minutes before everything happened and it was 11:47pm.”

“and you said i was completely fine before…” hueningkai motioned over to you. you nodded. “so i would say that the general cutoff would be midnight, or the second before. it would make sense… you’re only limited to this one day within the loop.” hueningkai looked around at the three of you, seeing if you got what he was saying. you all nodded.

you motioned for them all to stand. “alright let’s go then!” taehyun stood and gave you a confused look, “go where?” you gave him a slightly amused look as you raised your eyebrows. “we’re gonna need a lot more than a notebook if we’re gonna plan this all out.”

you were thankful that you were on a college campus, so the confused and curious looks were at a minimum as the four of you carried four large poster boards across the sidewalks. you were heading to the library where chaewon had set up a meeting room for you all to sit down and work through your plan.

once you got to the library and the room chaewon had reserved, you breathed in deeply as you shut and locked the door behind you. hueningkai was laying the poster boards across the large table side by side. you walked over and began opening the pack of permanent markers you had bought as taehyun put both of your polaroid cameras on the table.

“okay,” you sighed as you began, opening the marker and leaning over the table to write on one of the poster boards. in big letters at the top you wrote ‘WHAT WE KNOW’ and added a bullet point for the loop ending at midnight, or the second before, exactly. “so we know that the loop ends at least the second before midnight.” you spoke and stood straight. “and we know that hueningkai wasn’t choking on anything. so that means we can conclude it was some magic of the time loop itself. the next thing we need to figure out is how to trick the loop.”

taehyun turned to look up at you from his seat next to you. “trick the loop? what do you mean?” before you could speak, chaewon did. “the day was just about to change, right, meaning that you had almost broken the loop. but at the last moment, hueningkai suddenly died. that means that somehow the time loop itself is aware. which means—“

“we have to trick it!” you, chaewon, taehyun, and hueningkai said in unison. their faces all brightened and you smiled to yourself. hueningkai’s eyebrows knitted together slightly. “but how do we trick the all-knowing time loop into believing i’m dead without me, you know, actually dying?” he asked, causing a couple chuckles to be let out around the room. the tension in the air lifted a little and your smile widened with newfound hope.

you leaned back over to the next poster board and reached over to the top of it. “by entering what i like to call phase two,” you spoke as you wrote ‘PHASE TWO’ on the poster board. under it you wrote, ‘WE KILL HUENINGKAI AND REVIVE HIM JUST BEFORE MIDNIGHT.’ you looked up to wide eyes looking back at you. “and just how are you expecting us to do that?” taehyun interjected.

you smiled at him, eyes burning brightly, “it’s simple. we stop hueningkai’s heart three to four minutes before midnight—preferably three to be safe. in the seconds before it actually hits midnight, we perform cpr and save him!” it seemed like a good idea to you. i mean, it was really the only idea. hueningkai scrunched his face up, “i don’t know about this…”

“we’ll it’s either you die—briefly—and get revived, or you just straight up die. so pick your poison,” chaewon said. you heard taehyun mutter “jesus…” under his breath. hueningkai blinked at her.

“i guess either way i’m dying, so i would prefer it to not be permanent,” hueningkai spoke. you nodded in satisfaction. “how are we even gonna kill him in a way that doesn’t actually hurt him? in a way we can actually bring him back?” taehyun asked you. your smile fell slightly, you hadn’t really thought that part through. before you could say that you weren’t exactly sure, a phone ringing cut you off.

hueningkai looked around at the three of you with a sheepish smile as he pulled the ringing phone from his pocket. he looked down at the caller id, “it’s my sister. i’m sorry, i gotta take this.” a worried expression passed across taehyun’s face as he began to stand. “no, you stay. i’ll go with him. the two of you remember all the other loops anyways, you need all the information you can get,” chaewon said as she stood to her feet. taehyun hesitated before nodding and falling back down on his seat. hueningkai and chaewon left the room, leaving you inside alone with taehyun.

you pulled out the chair in front of you, which was directly next to taehyun, and sat down. you wished that your heart didn’t speed up at the fact that you were alone with him. even now, your feelings for him haven’t changed. you were still in love with him, the confession letter still sat heavily in your bag.

“y/n?” taehyun asked. you turned to him in question. “i just wanted to say thank you. you know, for helping me in all this to save kai. you didn’t have to, but you did anyways, and i’m grateful for that. clearly, i wouldn’t have been able to do it alone.” you smiled softly at him. “it’s no problem! i mean, we’re in this together. literally.”

taehyun laughed at that and it made your heart soar. you were happy you could make him laugh after seeing him cry earlier. glad that you could give him some hope in this fucked up situation. “seriously though, y/n. thank you,” taehyun smiled at you, his eyes boring into yours. you gave a nod in response, your smile warming. “i’m here for you!” taehyun’s smile widened.

you were just doing what anyone would do if they were in this situation. there wasn’t any need to put you on some pedestal and give you a good person award because of it.

before you could get too lost in taehyun’s eyes, you turned back to the poster boards with heated cheeks. under ‘WHAT WE KNOW,’ you began filling in everything that you were a hundred percent certain of about the time loop, taehyun aiding you. when hueningkai and chaewon came back inside the room, thankfully none of them harmed, the two of you were shoulder to shoulder, each writing on seperate poster boards. taehyun had used the third poster board to write down things he tried that failed to save hueningkai, ‘WHAT FAILED’ written at the top.

hueningkai and chaewon had sat in the seats across from you two, looking at everything you had added. “do you think there’s a way we could make these stay between loops? like the letters and polaroids besides taking a picture?” taehyun asked you, waving a hand with a marker in it over the poster boards. you sat back in your seat in thought and looked over to the polaroids that were spread out next to the cameras.

you tried thinking of an idea, but came up blank. “i have no clue. i mean, it has to be possible. we still don’t really know why there are two letters.” it was silent for a moment as everyone thought it over. “you said your loops essentially merged to join his, right?” chaewon asked you, causing you to nod. “and you said that when that happened, the letter was missing and the loop ended suddenly, causing the letter to duplicate and for you both to have one. now the time loop restarts for the both of you when he—“ she jabbed a thumb in hueningkai’s direction “—dies. have you tried seeing what happens what happens when… you know…” chaewon trailed, referring to you getting rejected.

you glanced over to taehyun to see that his eyes were fixed onto the table, cheeks flushed. you bet you didn’t look too different. you both haven’t really talked much about that part of the loop. granted, you had better things to worry about. “i mean… just to make sure that the loop doesn’t restart…” chaewon added awkwardly.

clearing your throat, you reached for your book bag to pull out the letter. you sat it on the table between you and taehyun and looked at him. “well… let’s try it so we can add it to the list.” just like that, awkward tension grew in the room.

taehyun swallowed thickly and reached for the letter. opening it, he read over the contents swiftly, already knowing exactly what it says. he looked up at you, his eyes meeting yours. “i… i’m sorry, y/n, but i…— don’t feel the same way about you.” taehyun folded the letter back up as he looked away. you looked down to your feet. the tension in the air grew thicker.

silence hung in the air for a few moments, before you couldn’t take any more of it. “okay! we’re still here, so…” you turned to write on the ‘WHAT WE KNOW’ poster board. you then looked around the room. everyone was avoiding each other’s eyes. “back to figuring out ways to kill hueningkai… any ideas that won't ultimately hurt him in the long run?”

“what if i held my breath?” hueningkai asked, causing you and the others to laugh. you breathed a sigh of relief as the tension started to dissipate. “that wouldn’t work, your body would literally make you start breathing again,” taehyun replied, a grin playing on his lips.

chaewon face brightened with an idea, “what if we drowned him!” you, hueningkai, and taehyun gave her a shocked look and chaewon then realized she said that a bit too enthusiastically. “i would rather not be drowned,” hueningkai exclaimed as he gave a small smile to chaewon, a laugh at the edges of his voice. she chuckled slightly in return.

“suffocation?” taehyun offered. hueningkai tilted his head, “and would you be doing the honors of holding the pillow over my face?” taehyun smirked at him and replied, “if you want!” as they talked, you were writing all the ideas down, excluding hueningkai holding his breath.

hueningkai clapped his hands together, “suffocation it is!”

“what if your body starts fighting back?” you asked, genuinely curious. hueningkai hummed in thought. from the corner of your eye you could see taehyun stifling a laugh. “make sure you tie me down then,” hueningkai replied.

“kinky,” taehyun muttered under his breath, backing away from hueningkai’s attempt to shove him from across the table with a grin. you finished writing and put the cap on the marker, tapping it against the table. “let’s get to it then!” you smirked.

suddenly, chaewon spurted, “what if when you past midnight, things change for the worst?” everyone stopped in their tracks and the room fell deathly silent. what did she mean ‘change for the worst’? the thought seeped into your head like ink and you tried not to let it spread over your thoughts. “that won’t happen,” hueningkai assured everyone, though he didn’t seem to believe his own words that much. if you were in his position—hell, you don’t even need to be in his position—you wouldn’t believe them either.

you glanced over to taehyun who, in turn, was already looking at you with wide eyes. his thoughts in them were clear; we all have to make it past midnight alive and well. all of us.

back at you and chaewon’s dorm, it was twenty minutes until midnight and you could feel the stress swirling around the room. you all basically spent the whole day in your dorm room, staring at the walls, too scared to eat or drink or even watch anything on the off chance it might somehow kill hueningkai.

at some point, chaewon suggested that you all got to know each other. you didn’t miss the sly smirk she gave you either, deciding to ignore it with a roll of you eyes. halfway through, she suddenly struck up a conversation with hueningkai about some school topic that you knew she didn’t have any interest in, leaving you and taehyun to continue the game alone.

deep down, you felt thankful for chaewon, even if she was deliberately trying to set you up right now. honestly, you didn’t know how you would’ve got through this time loop without her.

you and taehyun started asking the randomest of questions to each other. spanning from what your favorite color was to if you had to be any planet in the solar system, which planet would it be and why. your face was flushed with heat that you hoped he didn’t notice as the two of you grew closer. the confession letter burned hotly in your bag across the room, you could feel it like a tether to your soul, begging you to come closer. to reveal it.

during the exchange, you and taehyun somehow got closer and closer to each other as you answered the questions. the two of you were laughing and smiling at each other as your knees and shoulders brushed together from your closeness. you hadn’t even realized that chaewon and hueningkai were whispering to each other now as they stared at the two of you.

the night continued like that up till now. the room was so silent you could hear a pin drop. hueningkai was laying on your bed, eyes staring blankly up at the ceiling. chaewon kept her eyes on the clock on her phone. she downloaded an app that allowed her to see down to the millisecond. you and taehyun were still sitting on the floor, just as close as you had been the whole day.

you looked at him and his eyes trailed over to yours from where he was watching hueningkai on the bed. you gave him a slight nod, squeezing his knee briefly before standing to your feet. “we should get ready,” you said. the others nodded in agreement.

ten minutes until midnight and the pillow was shaking in taehyun’s hands as he stood at the edge of the bed, looking down to hueningkai. you stood next to him and chaewon stood behind you, giving you updates on the time. “it’s okay taehyun,” hueningkai whispered as he looked at him. taehyun just shook his head solemnly in response.

hueningkai sat up, throwing his feet over the edge of the bed in between you and taehyun. “i’m gonna try holding my breath,” he spoke. taehyun opened his mouth to argue, but hueningkai swiftly cut him off with, “i’m holding my breath. if it doesn’t work, well, you guys are in a time loop...” he scooted backwards so his back was flush with the wall.

“five minutes until midnight,” chaewon announced. hueningkai looked at the both of you. “be ready to revive me…” he trailed. hueningkai opened his mouth wide, gulping in as much air as he possibly could before closing it tightly with puffed cheeks. he closed his eyes, letting his head hang and his body relax.

you felt something squeeze your hand tightly and glanced down to see that it was taehyun’s hand. you felt it tremble as his locked nervous stare remained on hueningkai. “two minutes,” chaewon breathed out.

hueningkai’s face was turning purple and you wanted to advert your eyes so badly but couldn’t let yourself. his body watch twitching as it fought against him and his eyes squeezed together tighter. at this point, you didn’t know if it was him or the magic of the time loop taking over. hueningkai’s body went still and he fell over limply, his final breath smoking out between newly parted lips, just as chaewon called, “one minute, it’s go time!”

taehyun was squeezing your hand so tightly you thought it might break, but you didn’t make any moves to remove it from his grasp. chaewon started to count to twenty and as soon as she hit it, taehyun jumped into action. he pulled hueningkai towards him and the two of you got him down to the ground as gently and as fastly as you could. chaewon started doing cpr on him and there was nothing you and taehyun could do but watch and wait.

chaewon had thrown her phone to you when she dropped to the ground, and you took over managing the time. “thirty seconds!” you shouted, as chaewon started pushing on hueningkai’s chest in regulated increments and blowing air into his mouth.

“ten seconds,” you managed nervously. hueningkai still wasn’t breathing. you heard taehyun’s heavy breathing next to you as you watched the numbers grow closer to midnight. with your eyes still on the clock, you took taehyun’s hand as the final three seconds were up.

you woke up in your bed, confession letter on your nightstand, on the five hundred and fifty-first loop. you jumped to your feet, wasting no time as you grabbed your things, when there was rapid knocking at your door. you turned to the door in confusion. when you opened it, a frazzled looking taehyun was on the other side. you beckoned him in.

“so stupid…” taehyun muttered under his breath as he paced the room. “so stupid to let that idiot hold his breath, what was i thinking?” you walked up to him and put your hands on his shoulders, forcing him to stop his pacing and to look at you. “taehyun, take a deep breath,” you said as you stared into his eyes intently. you felt his shoulders rise and fall as he obeyed your command, his eyes fluttering closed. he took another before opening them again.

taehyun took your hands in his. “we’re gonna save him,” you said softly. “all of this isn’t just on your shoulders, okay? we’re in this together. let me share some of the weight.” taehyun’s eyes were trained to the ground as he nodded. just then, chaewon entered the room.

she saw the two of you, your close stance and intertwined hands, and froze mid walk. her mouth opened but you broke away from taehyun and strode up to her before she could say anything. “chaewon! we need your help! we’ll explain on the way.”

later that day, the four of you were once again in you and chaewon’s dorm room. ten minutes until midnight on the clock and taehyun gripped the pillow in his hands so hard his knuckles were white. hueningkai was laying flat on your bed again, looking up to the ceiling.

“five minutes, go time,” chaewon said as she moved closer to the two of you. you gave taehyun an encouraging smile as hueningkai closed his eyes. inside, your stomach churned. you really hoped it worked this time, you don’t know how many times you could watch taehyun essentially kill his best friend to save his life. your heart ached for taehyun, you didn’t know how many more times he could watch his best friend die—let alone be the one to kill him.

taehyun lifted the pillow mere inches above hueningkai’s face. the pillow shook from his trembling. “i’m so sorry, kai,” taehyun whispered, letting the pillow fall from his hands. he took a large step backwards and folded into himself.

you couldn’t let this loop go to waste. springing into action, you inhaled deeply as you pushed the pillow down onto hueningkai’s face. behind you, you heard chaewon say, “you’re on time.” chaewon was then next to you, holding hueningkai down to make sure he didn’t move.

“tw—two minutes,” taehyun’s voice shook. hueningkai’s body stilled once again and you and chaewon brought him to the floor to begin cpr.

“ten s-seconds,” stuttered taehyun. chaewon was laser focused on reviving as you sat and watched. in your head, you counted down. hueningkai didn’t wake back up.

sighing, you woke up to the five hundred and fifty-fifth loop; the others failing once again. four times hueningkai had died. four more times you had failed to save him. this time, chaewon had the idea of hueningkai drinking a bunch of energy drinks before his untimely demise to help jumpstart his heart better. when she said it, you all looked at her with amusement, but any idea is better than no ideas right about now.

taehyun was at your door again, like he was for the past four loops. when he entered, he immediately pulled you into his embrace. for once, the time loop was good for something, you thought. it’s a blessing that the two of you don’t dream, you feared that that would break taehyun completely.

you rubbed taehyun’s back as he tried to stop himself from shaking. he pulled away slightly as he looked into your eyes. “y/n, i know the two of us have grown closer through dubious means, but i am truly glad i got to know you. even if this time loop never ends, even if i have to watch my best friend die over and over and over again, at least you’re there by my side. at least you’re the constant hope that’s here keeping me grounded.” taehyun cupped your cheek, pausing to take a shaky breath.

briefly, he glanced over to your nightstand where your confession letter laid next to your unmade bed. “it’s funny, february thirteenth—god, that feels like a lifetime ago—there was a singular shooting star that night. i was with kai and he was egging me on to make a wish. ‘to always be by his side,’ i wished, ‘to be his best friend forever and to keep him safe. to stay in his moment of happiness where nothing can even fathom touching us.’” taehyun let out a wry laugh before continuing. “the night he first died, i prayed for a miracle, for something, anything. screamed at the sky at the fact that shooting stars were pointless.”

he looked back to your eyes, a glossy layer covering his own. you quietly inhaled at his vulnerability, it all taking you off guard despite the amount of times you’ve seen him cry now. you intertwined your hands together, like you’ve done for the past four loops.

“i know now that shooting stars don’t fly for me. that miracles are one in a million. but despite all of that, you still give me hope. and i know that no matter what happens, we’ll still see each other again,” taehyun concluded. tears brimmed at the corner of your eyes and taehyun brought his hands back to your cheeks softly.

it was as if time moved in slow motion, taehyun moving towards you. when his lips pressed to yours, it was as if all the stars had aligned. you felt the morning sun heat your skin through your open blinds. he was wrong, shooting stars did fly, and they flew for the both of you.

when you both pulled away, slightly out of breath, you couldn’t help the smile that was on your lips. “i made a wish too,” you said quietly, just loud enough for him to hear. “that no matter the outcome, no matter if you accepted my confession or rejected it, you’d continue being the person i grew feelings for. that your smile would always light up a room and bring joy to all of those around you. that i’d get to see your smiling face, full of happiness, everyday. that you’d always be happy.” as you spoke, the smile on taehyun’s face only grew wider, warming your heart and proving your point.

“shooting stars do fly for you, i’ll make sure of it if i have to. and you’re right,” you booped his nose slightly making him giggle, “we will see each other again. and you’ll see hueningkai again on a day that isn’t this dreaded godforsaken day. i’ll make sure of it.” taehyun pulled you in for another kiss just as chaewon entered. the two of you didn’t mind her, pulling each other closer.

“ten minutes,” chaewon called. at this point, you didn’t even need her announcements. you had the time down to a science. you looked to hueningkai, “you’re gonna live. i promise you that.” he looked over to you, a wide and wishful smile spreading across his face. how you wished that he and chaewon could remember the loops with you and taehyun. the four of you had grown so close given the circumstances that it made you sad that the slate got erased each time. but, it also made you happy. once you were all out of this time loop you could start anew, fresh. at least, in a way.

no doubt this time loop will always follow you and taehyun, like a ghost clinging to your shoulders. i mean, it’s been all you’ve known for so long, how could it not? you just hope you’re able to move past it and finally live normal lives.

“i hope so!” hueningkai exclaimed. you felt it deep inside. this time, your plan was gonna work. hueningkai downed the small case of energy drinks, cringing at the taste of them, and laid back down. he nodded at you and taehyun, signifying he was ready. “five minutes,” chaewon spoke, passing her phone to taehyun. you gave taehyun a smile. it was going to work this time.

the pillow came down and hueningkai’s body stilled as there were two minutes until midnight. you and chaewon brought him to the floor and the three of you crowded around his body. taehyun took your hand, giving it a squeeze, as you looked at each other. chaewon began cpr.

ten seconds until midnight and counting, chaewon shouted that she had a pulse. five seconds until midnight, hueningkai gasped in a breath of air and his eyes fluttered open. for the first time in all of the five hundred and fifty-five loops you’ve been through, you watched as taehyun cried tears of happiness. the three of you pulled hueningkai into your arms, laughing with joy at the fact that he was still alive.

“it’s 12:01am,” hueningkai’s raspy voice spoke as he pointed to chaewon’s discarded phone next to you all. you let out a gasp as you and taehyun stared at each other with wide eyes. “we did it,” he spoke, disbelief rounding the edges of his voice. “we did it!” you echoed, a large smile breaking out on your face. you bent down and hugged hueningkai, “you’re alive!”

you felt a pull deep within you, and the next thing you knew, you were waking up in your dorm room again. confusion pulled your brows and you stood to your feet slowly, looking at the confession letter on your nightstand in slight horror. no, this couldn’t be. this was impossible.

taehyun burst through the door of your room a minute later, not even bothering to knock, with a sleepy hueningkai behind him. chaewon was a close second behind them. with wide eyes, taehyun exclaimed, “he remembers! the time loop, he remembers!”

“i remember too!” chaewon laughed. you all let out shocked laughs, not quite sure how else to react. the four of you fell into a group hug. you would kill to see an outside perspective of all of this. four frazzled college students in their various pajamas with the weight of the world on their shoulders, seeing things that nobody else has seen before. it would sure be a sight to behold.

“so is this just a regular day then?” hueningkai asked, his voice muffled between the layers of clothing. “we get through today and tomorrow will finally not be valentine’s day?” you laughed as you pulled away, the others doing the same. “we just gotta get through today!”

taehyun turned to hueningkai, “you will not be leaving my sight today. we don’t need to enter another time loop.” hueningkai laughed and just nodded, a smile lingering on his lips. “what’s another day indoors?” chaewon smiled.

you all spent the day in taehyun and hueningkai’s dorm instead of you and chaewon’s. you all desperately needed the change of scenery. at one point, you all became curious to see if anybody else remembered the last loop besides the four of you. hueningkai managed to convince taehyun to let him roam around the dorms with chaewon to find out, “i just can’t say no to him,” taehyun had said.

when the two of you were alone in the dorm room, you pulled your confession letter out of your bag and presented it in front of taehyun. he laughed a little, “what are you doing?” you smiled, pushing it towards him more. “will you be my valentine?”

taehyun took the letter and opened it, like he did so many times before that he could read every word by heart. tell you where each spec of glitter resided on the pink paper. he read over the letter one more time, mock surprise and shock on his face. “i like you too, of course i’ll be your valentine.” he pulled you in for a gentle kiss, smiling against your lips as you giggled.

“will you be my girlfriend?” taehyun asked once you pulled away. your smile widened, “i don’t know… maybe you’ll have to ask me over and over and over for me to decide.” he playfully rolled his eyes at your teasing. “i’ve liked you since the beginning, you know. you didn’t think i didn’t notice you staring at me in class? sitting just in the right seat so i’m always in your view?” you face heated tremendously and taehyun laughed as his thumbs brushed over your warm cheeks. “you didn’t notice that we were always in at least one class together? how no matter where one of us sat, we could still see each other?”

you pressed your lips to his to shut him up, not needing any more embarrassment. “i’ll be your girlfriend,” you chuckled as you pulled away. “it’s already bad enough you remember the early loops—god, i’ll never live that embarrassment down!”

“it was cute to see how much you liked me! i only rejected you because i had to focus on saving kai. if we weren’t in that stupid time loop we would’ve been together ages ago!” taehyun said, causing you to smile warmly at him. you laid your head on his shoulder and he laid his head on top of yours. “you know, at the campfire party, i was gonna ask you out but you spoke before i could and the loop restarted before i could say anything.”

you pulled away and whipped your head to face him, “what?” you urged him to explain himself. laughing, taehyun said, “yeah! when the letter magically flew into my hands? i had came up to you to ask you out but you assumed i was there to reject you again, which i mean, i don’t blame you for…” you looked at him in shock.

shoving taehyun lightly, you gasped in disbelief before pulling him towards you into a kiss. the door to his dorm jiggled dramatically, causing you both to pull away with a laugh. chaewon and hueningkai came into the room with shielded eyes. “you both decent?” chaewon asked. you just shook your head at them which chuckling, “we weren’t doing anything, assholes.” they uncovered their eyes and stepped further into the room, closing the door.

they sat down in front of you, giving each other a look and then high-fiving. you raised an eyebrow at them. “finally the two of you got together! chaewon and i were talking and it’s ridiculous how you both didn’t see how much you liked each other,” hueningkai said. you looked over to taehyun to see him roll his eyes, a small smile on his face.

the four of you stayed in the dorms for the rest of the day, hanging out and chatting together. you were happy you were getting to know them better, even if you did slightly freak them out with information they technically never told you about.

you were all leaned over chaewon’s phone, five minutes until midnight. taehyun’s eyes were on kai like a hawk and you could tell kai was nervous too by the way he kept fidgeting with the string on his pajama pants. “deep breaths everyone, everything is gonna be okay,” you said encouragingly. inhales we’re heard around the circle and the tension started to lift a little.

“ten seconds,” chaewon announced. you all watched as the numbers climbed to midnight, and then to 12:01 and 12:02 and all the way to 12:05am. taehyun let out a long sigh of relief, closing his eyes briefly. “thank god, i’m starving!” kai said. you and chaewon jumped to your feet in excitement. “we fucking did it!” you shouted in celebration, pulling the two boys up to join you. you pulled the polaroid camera from out your bag and snapped a picture of the four of you, needing to cement this occasion forever.

“finally, february fifteenth, i could kiss the ground you walk on!” taehyun murmured, pulling you all into one big hug. you held onto them all. you had all made it, together. you tightened your grip on them, and you were never letting go.

taglist: @jjunberry @gothgyuu @spooksh0wbabe @beargyuuzz @kittyhyuka @hueningm1ckey @dani-is-tired @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie

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abbyromanoff · 9 months

Text

YOU CAN RUN BUT YOU CAN’T HIDE

PAIRINGS: GF!Natasha Romanoff x reader

WORD COUNT: 5,142

WARNINGS: Nat is ghost face, smut, killing, blood, dark!Nat, Nat has a dick, cnc, dubcon, daddy kink, begging, praise, degrading, fingering, facials, dry-humping, knives, carving, pain kink, hair pulling, manipulation, size kink, tummy bulges, blowjobs, breeding, unprotected sex, kinda dark!R, very dark descriptions of death, kinda depressed!r, mentions of cheating (no cheating actually happens tho), think that’s all :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

Your eerie apartment was filled with complete silence. You could hear the clock on the wall slowly ticking away at your life, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. You couldn’t find it in you to care if your entire existence would vanish in the spot, there was nothing left for you to live for anyways.

You clicked through the channels mindlessly, hoping to find something that could entertain you. The pizza box left on the table had three pieces left - all cold. Your girlfriend had been out for god knows how long. Your phone was next to you, taking Nat’s spot on the couch. It was nearly dead, but that didn’t matter, you didn’t get any notifications anyways.

Suddenly, after minutes of surfing through the tv, the blasting sounds of a breaking emergency filled your ears. The news reporter, a blonde woman most likely in her late thirties, stared dead into your eyes without knowledge of it. She read the words from the telegraph, a small shake in her voice as the man next to her hid a fearful gulp.

It started a few months ago, people reported dead all around the city. The only problem was that it was New York, there were small and large crimes daily; no cop, no matter how good, would ever be able to figure out who was the masked killer.

There had already been over ten found bodies, there was a small part of you who wished you were one of them. Blood would smear the walls of the victim's houses, a new letter to create a large sentence being designed ever so slowly. You wondered what they’d do if they got to each letter, would they stop? Would they be caught beforehand? You didn’t know, and you didn’t want to know.

Every video you found online was all about the same topic, who is this new Ghostface, as they called him. When would he strike again? Is it even a he? You didn’t bother, they were just a bunch of conspiracy theorists who had such little to do in their lives that they became so invested in others. So what if they were crazy? Isn’t everyone at least a little bit?

You could hear the sound of keys dangling outside of your door and rolled your eyes, she was back.

“Hey, beautiful.” She muttered when she got near you, planting a kiss on top of your head and climbing onto the couch. She took the spot next to you, accidentally sitting on your drained phone.

“Look who’s home.” She tried placing her arm around your neck, only to feel you shuffle away. You wouldn’t even look at her, only going to stand up and grab the recycling left on the coffee table.

“Oh, c’mon, are you really mad at me?” She attempted to pull you back down, make you sit with her so she can finally hold you; but you shrugged her off. She sighed, rolling her head back and trying to find comfort in the cheap sofa that did nothing for her.

“Why would I be mad? Because you were out all night and didn’t bother to text me or call me back? Or maybe because you smell like that bitches perfume?” You asked, sarcasm evident in your voice. She groaned and stood back up, yawning as she walked into the kitchen where you stood, back facing her as you scrubbed the dishes.

She watched you for a moment, her side leaning on the fridge as she crossed her arms over her broad chest. She waited for anything else, any other comment, but none came. Instead, she grabbed a warm beer from the six-pack box that was resting on the floor next to the counter. She easily popped open the cap and flicked it in the direction of the trash, hoping it made it in.

Your gaze traveled to the side when you noticed the glass bottle being placed next to you and let out a deep and frustrated sigh as you felt her hands rubbing your arms.

“You really think I’d fuck someone else when I have you right here?” She smirked with pure cockiness, it nearly made you want to puke. When you still did not indicate forgiveness or submitting, her smirk dropped.

“Why don’t you believe me, doll? I give you everything you ask and you still don’t trust me?” You felt her crotch poking your backside and tried to hide the goosebumps that arose to the surface. Her hands were gentle as they moved your hair to one side, letting your neck be displayed as you subconsciously leaned into her pecks. She kissed from your exposed shoulder up to your jawline, stopping there as you felt her hot breath against your cold skin.

“Nat-”

“Shh, isn’t this what you wanted?” You showed no evidence to prove her right. You wanted her to feel bad, it’s what she deserved. Who was she to think she can just take off whenever she wants, fuck who she wants, and have the audacity to get annoyed at your worries.

“You’re so hot when you’re mad, makes me just wanna- take you right here.” You felt her hands slide down your pants and dip into your panties. She audibly gasped when feeling your wetness gushing on her fingers.

“You want this, hm? You want daddy’s fingers?” Your palms gripped the ends of your countertop as her middle finger rubbed your clit slowly.

“More.” You choked out, your hips involuntarily grinding into her, chasing the pleasure. She chuckled, shaking her head and tsking.

“No, no, you need to tell me you want it, baby girl.” Your mouth opened, only to release a silent scream as she eased a finger into you. You fucking hated her, despised her, but she knew you perfectly, she knew exactly how to make you tell her how much you love her.

“I want it.” She hummed, signaling for you to continue. You groaned in annoyance, your hand traveling to your chest where you palmed your tits.

“I want it…daddy. I want you, please.” You struggled to get out through gritted teeth, hating how the words sounded coming from your mouth. This was the last time she’d get away with something through fucking you, you’d tell yourself, yet you seemed to repeat those words in your mind every single time. And every single time you ended up back in this situation, orgasms rushing through you while you acted like a desperate whore for any sort of attention she’d offer.

You wondered if her other woman felt the same as you, who couldn’t despise her every move?

“That’s a good girl, you’re daddy’s good little girl, right?” You nodded, your head falling on her shoulder as you tried to find hold of something. Her cock rubbed against your skin as she fucked herself to your pleasured state.

“Cum with me. Make a fucking mess, you slut.”

Your sleeping body laid with the blanket covering only your chest to the tops of your thighs. Nat was next to you, brushing the hair out of your face and smiling at your state. You look beautiful, you always did, but you looked even better when you were shut up for once. She wished she could just fuck that attitude right out of you.

Of course, she wasn’t cheating, no idiot would do such a thing to someone like you. You were a feisty little thing, if you ever found out she was cheating you’d beat her ass into her own grave and plead insanity - she taught you well.

“I’ll be back soon, pretty girl.” She whispered even when knowing you couldn’t hear such words. You shuffled in your sleep and she gave your forehead one last kiss before standing, finding a new pair of boxers and a bra before grabbing her clothing. She had everything she needed in her bag - her mask, outfit, and most importantly, her knife. The best part about it all was that the knife was a custom design you ordered for her for your first Christmas as a pair. It had her initials on it with a heart next to it, reminding her of your love. Your past love for her at least, everything was different now. She didn’t want to hurt you, but you couldn’t figure her out just yet. She’d tell you eventually, she wanted to, she loved nothing more than bragging about her killings, and with you, she’d finally have someone to do so with.

There was still that fear that you wouldn’t accept it though, it wasn’t exactly an easy topic to be brought up. But she couldn’t wait to prove to you that she was in fact loyal, just maybe not clean of her sins.

With one last glance, she left, closing the door behind her and walking down the stairs of the cheap building, shuffling the bag from shoulder to shoulder. She threw it in the car once she found her keys, settling herself in the driver's seat and preparing herself before driving off, her main destination in mind.

“Alright, Mar, let’s see just how well you handle it.” She mumbled to herself, her elbow slamming into the glass of the woman’s back window. She was in, the easiest part was done, and now it was just her time to have fun.

When you woke in the middle of the night, 2:43 AM reading on the clock, you searched for your lover, only to come up empty-handed. You bit back the bile in your throat and threw the blanket over you angrily, grabbing the suitcase you kept under your bed. It was meant for trips, now it was being used to kick out your girlfriend; if she even was that anymore. You didn’t know what changed her, who changed her, but you were done. If she wanted someone else then she could have them, she already used up all the chances you offered her.

Then, there was the sound of the keys rattling, she was back for the last time. You stood up with the luggage in hand, throwing the door open as you were planning to be greeted by a hickey-stained Nat with more excuses pooling out of her, but there was no one to be seen.

“Get the fuck out here, Nat.” You waited for something, but there was no sign of her. You noticed her keys resting on the ground in front of the door, covered in blood. You gulped, taking a step back from nothing.

“Nat? Babe, where- where are you?” You yelled out, your head turning in all directions to look for her. You still found no one, it was pitch black, and nearly impossible to find any sighting of anything besides the luggage by your feet. Your hands were sweaty as your body was stuck in place, you couldn’t move.

“This isn’t fucking funny, Nat, get out here right now.” Hands landed on your shoulders, a low whisper coming to your ear.

“Boo.” You jumped, turning around only to find a person dressed in all black besides their mask. The face covering looked like the design of a ghost, one that a child would draw as their mother praised them for what a good job they did, even if they knew it was horrible.

The man twirled the knife in his hands, watching your fear grow in your eyes and motions.

“Aww, did I scare you, baby girl?” You were able to really listen in on their voice this time, it sounded familiar. You suddenly regretted everything you had said earlier on, you weren’t ready to die just yet.

“No need to be scared, it’s just me.” The man went down on one knee in front of you, knife still in hand near their leg as his hand ventured to his mask, removing the plastic only to see,

“Nat?” She chuckled darkly, reaching up to switch on the light that was sitting on a small table next to you.

“What the fuck was that?” She tried to reach out for your face, only to be pushed away; she wasn’t having that. She gripped your arm tightly, your wrist starting to ache the more she squeezed. She took pleasure in seeing such pain and fear in your features, it somehow made you all the more beautiful.

“Nat- stop it, you’re hurting me.” She smiled darkly as you spoke.

“Perfect.” You thought this was the end, she was going to kill you, your girlfriend was going to kill you. But there seemed to be no move made to do so.

“If you’re going to kill me just get it over with already.” She let go of your arm and you noticed the tensity in her jaw increasing, her head turning just enough for her darkened glare to look all the more dangerous.

“Oh, baby, you really think I’d kill you? There’s no point, it’s not like anyone would miss you.” The words hurt even more than your wrist in the moment, you bit back a remark, choosing to play your cards right and not argue with the woman now pointing a knife at you.

“No, I’m not going to kill you, we’re just gonna have a bit of fun together, alright?” The cold metal pressed against your neck, the sharp tip nearly causing you to leak blood. You whimpered the further she went, your skin barrier breaking as a red substance slowly dripped down your neck.

“Fuck, you don’t know how badly I’ve been wanting this, I’ve been just dying to see you dripping in blood all at the hands of my knife.” You didn’t move, didn’t speak, the fear of what she’d do to you if so indulging you.

“You know, I was planning to come home to my gorgeous little girl laying in bed, ready to take me whenever I want. But instead, I came home to a suitcase of my clothes ready for me, you were gonna kick me out, huh?” You slowly nodded, wetness pooling in your eyes and your shorts. You squeezed your eyes shut in shame, it was so wrong to be needy after such things, she was holding a deadly object to your body and you were still turned on, were you just as crazy as her?

“But seeing that look in your eyes I- fuck, I just wanted you so much more. I was going to tell you, but I- I didn’t know how you’d react, you know?” She was practically manic as she spewed jumbled-up words, her eyes wide and her laugh being as haunted as her soul.

“I mean, just watching Maria on the floor, begging for her life to be saved- it just made me want to shove this knife so deep inside of her and watch as her life slowly drained from her eyes until there was nothing left.” Your own eyes widened at her words, trying to scramble as far away from her as you could. There was no escape though, you were pressed against the wall and she was surrounding every part of you, including your mind.

“Don’t run from me, baby.” She started. “All of this- all of it would’ve been prevented if it wasn’t for you. God, you’re just such a fucking slut, whoring yourself out to practically everyone. Do I not do enough for you? I fucking killed for you and that’s not enough?” You knew this was all the manipulation tactics that she noticed seemed to work with you, and it was working. You were ready to spit out apology after apology, praying for forgiveness, just like all of her victims.

She quickly reached for her bag, and you wanted nothing less than to know what was in there. She grabbed a small book, opening it to show the multiple photos of bloodied victims fallen at her hands. She looked proud, excited, all to show you her work.

“Maybe these people would’ve still been alive if it wasn’t for you.” You tore your eyes away quickly, you couldn’t stand seeing such brutality. It wasn’t your fault, you weren’t the one who hurt them, you told yourself. But there was that nagging thought, what if she did kill them because of you? Sure, you flirted, you had old flings but they weren’t contacted since you started your long relationship with Nat.

“Maria didn’t deserve this, none of them did.” You sobbed out, flinching when you felt her hand on your cheek. It was a soothing matter, one meant to calm you, but it did everything but. Suddenly, the same hand connected harshly with the skin, causing it to instantly redden in pain.

“They wanted you, baby, you should’ve known that. You think I didn’t pick up on Maria’s glances at your ass or these, perfect breasts of yours?” She groped your body with desire, shuddering out a breath while doing so.

“Of course, you didn’t notice, you thought she was just being ‘nice’, so fucking stupid.”

“And Wanda? She had a husband, Nat, a family.” Instead of giving you the response you wanted, an explanation to it all, she just continued to tease your nipples with the pad of her thumb through the fabric.

“You know I’d never kill you, right?” It took you a moment before you could get out a hesitant nod, struggling to fully believe her. You always trusted her, but times changed, and so did she.

“I like hurting people, it excites me. But you, I could never do such a thing, I never want to see you in pain, pretty girl.” She murmurs, moving her free hand to her crotch where she rubbed herself thoroughly.

“I just- you ever get so angry, so sick of someone, you just wish you could, like, kill them? Sometimes when we get into those heated arguments, I just wonder how much you’d be willing to beg me not to hurt you.” You watched as she slowly slid the black suit over her head, revealing her black sweatpants. She lowered them to her knees, and let her boxers make way to your vision.

“I’d never act on it, but with others, you don’t need to care about how much they mean to you, because their life costs me nothing but annoyance. I’d kill every last soul on this planet just for you, all you’d have to do is ask.” She grasped your hand, leading it to her confined cock as you palmed her length. Your breathing was ragged, shaky as you refused to look her in the eyes. You knew if you stared too deep into that emerald glaze, there would be no stopping. You wouldn’t be able to stay mad at her if you saw the care hidden deep inside of her.

“If I let you touch me, will you stop?” The killings are what you meant, but there was a hidden meaning in the words.

“I can’t promise you I’ll be able to, love.” There was a small whimper escaping her lips as you dipped your hand inside her underwear, grasping her cock in your hands as you stroked with a back-and-forth motion.

“That’s it, don’t stop.” You couldn’t believe yourself, you were sick, insane. Was this normal? No, it couldn’t be. But it felt so good, there was no stopping it. You wanted to see her face contort into pleasure, you wanted to see what she’d do to you. Would she treat you the same as Maria? Would she kill you when you were done? Did she mean it when she sputtered those words? You didn’t want to die just yet, you used to think you did, but that was until you faced death with open arms. How could a criminal, a serial murderer, a psychopath look so perfect? She still looked the same, but there was blood covering her hands and her red hair was messy, her forehead covered in trails of sweat.

“I’m- God, you’re such a good little girl, so fucking perfect.” She noticed the way your thighs clenched, rubbing together as your hips jutted into the air.

“Does someone like when daddy compliments them? Tells them how good they’re doing?” You nodded quickly, your mouth aching to land on her crotch.

“Yeah? You like being a good girl? Or do you like being a good little slut for me?” Both. The answer was both. You wanted nothing more than to prove your worth to her, but you wanted her to treat you like you had none.

“I’m cumming, baby, I’m fucking cumming.” She clenched her jaw tightly and groaned deeply as continuous spurts of cum coated your face. She looked down, grasping your hair in her hands to create a ponytail before forcing herself into your mouth. She could feel the salty tears that had traveled down to your lips spreading amongst her dick, making her grin.

“Swallow daddy’s cum, little girl.” She whispered, dragging you up and down as you gagged around her. Some dribbled down your chin, but she didn’t mind, and neither did you. It had been so long since she felt the warmth that was your mouth, you had been refusing to have sex with her until earlier today. When she finally got her hands on you, it felt magical, like a long-awaiting finale to a show.

“Your throat is so fucking tight,” She said. “I know you must be so wet, you like it when I’m rough, don’t ya’?” She extracted her length from your mouth, causing you to let out a multiple of deep breaths. She tossed your loose shorts to the side after ripping them in half, her biceps flexing in the short moment it took to do so.

“I’m gonna fucking ruin you, Y/N.” She rarely ever used your name, it was almost odd to hear such a thing. She got ahold of your thighs, pulling you forward and, if it wasn’t for her your hand massaging the part of your scalp she tugged, your head would’ve roughly slammed against the wooden floor.

Your thighs were then lifted to meet your stomach, her cock standing tall as she guided herself to prod at your hole. She rubbed up and down your folds, moaning lowly at the wetness coating you. She pressed herself teasingly against your clit, watching as your lips twitched upward.

“Nat- condom.”

“Oh, no, baby, I have a little something planned for tonight.” She eyed you with a soft smile as if it was the most obvious thing, you wished it didn’t turn you on as much as it did.

“You giving me that look isn’t going to help your case, it only makes me want to fuck you even more.” She stated when you gulped, giving her a nervous and feared look. This wasn’t your Nat, this was someone else, but you loved her just as much.

“F-fuck, you’re so warm and- tight!” She mumbled as her tip slowly opened you up. It was difficult to fit close to half of her inside of you, you didn’t know how you’d manage all of her. She held girth to her, and she was proud to point it out. She loved noticing how tiny you were compared to her, how her cock seemed to stretch you out more so than anything ever has before. No toy had come close; you became dependent on her length to fulfill your needs.

Your shirt soon joined your shorts as she tore it off you, roughly grasping your breast and squeezing as if it were a stress ball.

“Don’t do that. You’re a big girl, you can take it.” You whined pitifully, but her gaze was only filled with lust as her skin managed to press against yours. You had never once been able to take every last inch of her, but you were so wet, more than you’ve ever been. This side of her brought out something inside of you, something so shameful, you didn’t want to acknowledge it. But Nat did. She could sense how badly you had been wanting to spice things up for months, it was almost starting to turn out to be boring between you two, and she never expected you to act so compliant.

“Daddy, you’re so big.” She rested both arms at either side of your head, staring down at you with an intensity you longed for. You could see how badly she was trying to hold back from hurting you, but she wanted to so much. The thought of you covered in your blood only made her cock throb and pulse. She leaned down, letting her mouth ghost against yours, causing you to pull her forward to connect yourself with her. Her tongue poked at your lips, begging to get a taste of you. You didn’t let her, only pulling back with your eyes slowly trailing from her parted lips to her forest-green eyes.

“Fuck me, Nat.” She never liked her name all that much, she thought it was basic. But hearing it come from your mouth with your voice, it did things to her.

She pulled her hips back, her length sliding out of you, only to fuck itself back into you. Your tits jumped with your body as the thrust, her gaze couldn’t leave them.

She was in a deep state of arousal, even worse than you. And her knife was right there, it would’ve been so easy to repeat her actions onto her own body, but you didn’t want to. You didn’t care if she was a killer, you still loved her, you were as sick and gross as her. If anything, the thought fascinated you. You always enjoyed gore movies, and she was more than ecstatic when she found someone who shared her deep love for such acts, and you thought it was normal at first. That was until she asked you if you ever thought about doing the same things they did. You instantly said no, a little too quickly. Nat knew you were far from innocent, but she loved this part of you more than anything. You accepted her, even if she was insane.

“That feel good?” She asked, her voice coming out in stutters and cracked moans. You had released a loud whimper when she hit that spot deep inside of you, your nails clawing at her skin. She liked the pain, it sent a thrill through her body.

You felt a sharp poke against the skin of your thigh, looking down only to find her weapon covered in the blood of a previous fool, and now you were just the same.

“Nat-”

“Shh, just- shut up and take what I give you, alright?” She let the knife cut into you, leaving red liquid behind as it trailed down your body. It was warm, yet it still sent chills down your spine.

“You look so beautiful with my design, sweetheart.” She had carved an ‘N’, waiting and hoping for the end result where it’d scar your body forever. She didn’t know why she loved it so much, maybe if she hadn’t lied to the psychiatrists, she’d know.

“You think I should do the same thing…here?” Your skin lied a red trail that followed up until your neck, stopping short as she noticed your breathing patterns change.

“I could easily kill you, and no one would know.” She chuckled, bringing her face to rest on your shoulder, her nose against your neck as she inhaled your sweet scent. The knife pressed down a little harder, letting the skin break as a droplet fell.

“I know you won’t.” You whispered, goosebumps erupting over your skin. You were close, so close. You needed her, anything from her.

“Smart girl you are, hm?” Her hips were starting to lose rhythm the longer she went, it was growing more difficult to keep the same pace. The coil in her stomach had been begging to be let free, to finally relax as she came.

“You gonna cum, baby?” You nodded, moans consuming you making it impossible to speak. She finally leaned back, placing her palms on your stomach where a bulge appeared. She gasped, drawing in your attention as you hesitantly followed her vision. You bit your lip in hunger when noticing what caught your girlfriend’s attention, you had found her loving the way she could overpower you at any moment; taking you however she wanted because you couldn’t deny it. She adored being larger than you, it fueled that pride hidden inside of her.

“Oh, daddy must be stretching you out so, so much, huh? You’re just a cute little slut, so small compared to me.”

“Please-”

“Please, what?” She felt her peak rising further, she needed to release.

“Please cum inside me.” She was already planning to whether you wanted it or not, but seeing your dislike to the thought of children or pregnancy, she thought you’d never let her do so. She grinned, throwing her head back as she tried to muster out a response.

“I am, baby, I’m gonna cum so fucking deep inside of you. Cum with me.” She felt your juices coating her length as your legs shook violently. Pumps of her release shot into you, a deep groan caving its way out of her.

“You’ll look so sexy carrying my babies.” She had the image planted deep in her mind, she wanted to make it a reality.

“Yes! Please- God, fuck!” She didn’t stop after your first orgasm, causing your sensitivity to grow until you couldn’t take such abuse anymore. The blood on your skin had dried, and red hand marks that would soon bruise made way to your vision.

“You’re okay, just relax.” You couldn’t believe it, the murderer you had spent nights praising for their impressive kill count and multiple days fearing was your girlfriend, and you didn’t even hate her for it.

“I told you, I’ll kill anyone for you. I want us to get away from the city, find someplace to lie low for a little bit, at least until they cross me out as a suspect. We can be happy, we can have everything you’ve always wanted, together.” She kissed the back of your hand, letting them leave a pattern up your arm until she reached your face, leaving a long and passionate kiss on your lips.

You weren’t ready for this, you didn’t even have money. And there were so many things that could go wrong, but wasn’t it worse in a place like this? There, you’d have a knowing of where Nat would be, she wouldn’t have to hurt anyone anymore. But would she ever really stop? Or was she just saying that to ease your worries? You didn’t know, but you also didn’t care. You’d always have Nat, in any way possible.

“Okay.”

2K notes · View notes

mo0nfairy · 10 months

Text

ᥫ᭡ . # ۫ , ⸺ UNCHAINED MELODY, PART THREE !

summary :: surviving raccoon city together, you catch the affections of leon kennedy, ada wong, jill valentine, and carlos oliveira. six years later, you reunite with them and realize their obsession with you has increased tenfold.

chapters :: the masterlist.

word count :: 6.4k

content warnings :: mdni! yandere!leon, yandere!ada, yandere!jill, yandere!carlos, suicidal themes, grief/death, weapons, violence, blood, maladaptive daydreaming, implied masturbation, drugging, kidnapping, unhealthy & unrealistic religious themes.

carlos oliveira's yandere traits are . . .

worshiper, delusional, & nurturing

──── Carlos Oliveira hates the scent of ink. Yet still, his hands are covered in the excess of the relentless use of such.

It stains everything. His ragged clothes, his fingers, the top secret documents he couldn't be bothered to care after. Despite his loathing of the material, it somehow seems to follow him with every step he walks. It doesn't take away the sheer relief he feels when he uses the same ink to jot down everything in his journal. While Carlos is far from home and occupied with his position as a Corporal, he fills pages upon pages of entries assigned to you. From how he swore he heard your laughter at lunch that day to obsessive hours spent writing your name over and over again, he finds it soothing, in an odd sense. Everything the ink touches revolves around you in some shape or form.

Y/N L/N. The name he will never forget.

Carlos remembers your aromatic sweat, your intoxicating breath, your perfumed skin; he will never forget how you ended his life in Raccoon City. It was persephonic, the last day of his life. Through the maze of chaos and gore, he found you, his little taste of heaven before he would face his demise. However, he is still shamefully alive. And selfishly, Carlos wishes that he had died that night. He should be grateful, as insinuated by the thousands of innocent lives lost and his family thanking the universe for sparing their boy. But, he just isn't. He can't, as much as he tries.

Even though his heart still beats, something within him has been dead for these past five years. He tries to heal his soul which decomposes with every day that goes by, but his efforts are brought to no avail. As much as he attempts to write out the fairytale he desperately wishes would materialize into reality, the truth sits and rots beneath a canopy of pretty lies.

You are dead and there is nothing he can do about it.

If Carlos thinks too much about it, he'll be brought to tears. And he can't afford another days-long meltdown filled with unruly sobbing and staggering guilt. He just can't. Instead, he defiles his brain with dreams of you that he deludes himself into believing are real. Writing his sweet spouse letters while he is away from home, buying you trinkets and clothes from foreign places, and leaving behind warm plates of food for you to enjoy. The truth of your well-being dances in the back of his head like a ghost in an attic. However, fully acknowledging you are gone would just about kill him. Carlos will prolong it as long as it can, no matter how fast the inevitable truth gains on him.

"My honey, My sweet, My lover. I will be home soon. Please wait for me, my bumblebee." Ink stains Carlos' fingers as he jots down yet another letter to you. He wonders if you also hate the way ink stains your fingers when you finally write back to him. His heart swells when he imagines you receiving his letter all safe and cozy in the home you share together. One day, he'll receive a letter back from you. The ghost of the truth lurks in the mind, but he turns his back to it. One day, he'll receive a letter back from you.

Five years without you and all that sunshine and wit he used to possess has depleted. Now, it's impossible to know when the ticking time bomb that is Carlos Oliveira may explode.

Unbeknownst to his peers, every emotion expressed is a manifestation of you, whether good or bad. After working the day away, Carlos becomes agitated after such treacherous hours without being able to bathe his mind in the light of you. The anger suffocates whatever room he walks into, causing the people within to recoil from the energy alone. No one has forgotten the time when a few colleagues had poked the bear after a single day Carlos spent unable to return to the thought of you. This inevitably caused an hour-long outburst of broken bones, furniture thrown about, and an eruption of unconsolable tears and horrifying threats. The memory still sends goosebumps across the skin of witnesses and no one has dared to cross the man ever since.

All Carlos needs is to venture back to the lustrous haven within his head. Just you and him, together in extraterrestrial bliss. It's all he needs, please let him have it.

All he needs is indulge in the heavenly sights of you at this moment. Instead of the blood-stained reality that is his life, let him spend his days out in the wild with you. Breezy Summer days where the sun beats down and soaks you in its golden, empyrean hues. Carlos sits with his back against the trunk of a willow tree and you lay on a blanket with your head resting in his lap. The enchanting, peaceful state he has found himself in is almost enough to lull him into a slumber. But, how could he dare shut his eyes when the astonishing sight of you sits right before him? Carlos traces his fingers among the tracings of sunlight that peek through the branches and rest upon your face. Beautiful. How irrevocably, indubitably, catastrophically beautiful you are.

A picnic out in an empty field where the day would be spent letting the world fall away as he looks down on the love of his life. Your lips, ever-so appetizing, are dusted with sugar from the numerous treats Carlos made for this exact date. His hand cups your cheek and he caresses your cheekbone with his thumb, your smile growing in response. And the way it tugs on his heartstrings is almost as if your mere happiness was playing him like a string instrument. He gazes at you with so much wonder, it's practically baffling how in love a man could be. You offer him a bite of the pastry in your hand, but he declines. The heat of the season's temperatures and the burning love within Carlos is more than enough to keep him satiated.

Safe, content, and alive with love. There couldn't be a more perfect way to describe this precious moment with you. Safe, content, and alive with love.

A hand waving in his face brings him back to his unforgiving reality. No more sunshine, no more birdsong, no more you. The dread that permeates his entire being could rival the pain of being stabbed in the heart. Carlos jumps in surprise and casts his eyes upward to find Tyrell, whose worried eyes peer at him through the glasses perched on his nose. His body is tense, terrified of treading over a boundary and causing another outburst. Only this time, he fears the several guards with syringes that were able to make him comply before would fail this time. And Tyrell wouldn't be able to escape Carlos' wrath with his life.

However, in the head of Carlos, he can't fathom why his colleague was suddenly so afraid of him. Maybe it was the way his expression was entirely unconscious. Maybe it was the way his eyes were wide and distant, in a completely different world. Maybe it was the way his lips would twitch into a smile that would be deemed creepy or maybe it was how he whispered unintelligible sentences under his breath. All of this remains unknown to Carlos, as he was far too busy in la-la-land to pay attention to his surroundings. Tyrell then motions to the ground, where Carlos finds how his pen had managed to roll across the floor and how his journal was now sitting face-down against the concrete. When did he drop those?

"Are you okay, man?" The question echoes as if he was standing miles away from him. Is he? Is he ok? These days, it never really feels like it. Only when he can escape to his paradise does he truly feel okay.

"You kept saying something. Over and over again." Carlos can barely render the words spoken by his friend.

"Y/N. Who is that-?"

Something snaps within Carlos. The fireworks you have ignited inside him have been snuffed out like a cigarette; the skipping of his heart trips over itself like a child sprinting down a jagged sidewalk. Your name alone sitting on someone else's tongue is more than enough to send him spiraling into an envious frenzy. You've never even met this poor man, but Carlos' brain infests his thoughts with visions of you and Tyrell together. This parasite paints images of you in the same field, in each other's arms, hopelessly devoted to one another. Happy with one another. And the stifling jealousy practically makes Carlos maniacal. It should be him, it should be him. He doesn't deserve it, but it should be him with you. Not Tyrell, never him, please not him please choose me please just choose me I will do anything baby please-

Carlos doesn't even think before he's swinging his right arm back and surging it forward to Tyrell's face. He can't win, he can't win, he can't. Permeating pain flashes like a flickering light and it courses through his entire arm. This sudden flare of weakness grants Tyrell the opportunity to block the attack before it lands. He now just stares at his friend in complete horror. Carlos falls to the floor of the infirmary and inspects the source of pain, finding that his right bicep has been covered in thick gauze. What was once white and clean is now tattered with blood-red stains. The memories hit him like a train. How could he have forgotten? Was he so caught up in his fantasies that he failed to recall what happened mere hours ago?

One of the most prominent and more so realistic fantasies (in his opinion) Carlos has is of you in heaven, watching over him like his own personal guardian angel. To finally accept your death would shatter him entirely, but to think of how your soul has lived on and is now living in promised eternal bliss calms his stuttering heart. His relentless acknowledgment of this fantasy has caused disastrous side effects, however. Behind the scenes, he has caught himself on many occasions contemplating death. To indulge in his demise and to see you on the other side, Carlos knows it shouldn't make him this exhilarated. Still, he continues to wallow in the celestial phenomenon of joining you in the clouds.

He refuses to fulfill these suicidal tendencies for the sole reason of how you'd perceive him afterward. You had ever so bravely lost your life to the wreckage of Raccoon City; you died a fucking warrior. Whom would Carlos be if he simply ended the torment by slitting his wrists? The echo of your voice barking of how much of a coward he'd be for killing himself over such dramatic, puny reasons makes Carlos recoil in shame. This obsession of his has accelerated to a degree where he'll purposely slack off during missions, hoping that he'll be fatally caught in the crossfire. A bullet through the brain and he'd wake up beside you, where you'll praise him for his bravery and how he died a hero.

To reunite with you — that is the only thing Carlos could ever want.

Today was no different. Yet, while his comrades shout for him to take cover and question why he is being such an idiot, it finally happened. Barrelling through the air is a bullet, which buries itself into the flesh of his right arm. The force sends Carlos to the ground. When others try to take hold of him and drag him to safety, he swats them off like they're nothing but pesky mosquitoes on a humid July afternoon. And he laughs so loudly and so manically, it could almost convince the enemy that the Corporal is secretly the Joker.

It all makes sense now. You had broken your right arm five years ago and now, Carlos has been shot in the exact same arm. This must be you! This must be your way of lending your hand through the sky, guiding him to join you in heaven! You are here with him and Carlos can't restrict the genuine smile and streaming tears from forming on his face. Now, however, the wounds your tender heart left have now been cared for. These doctors have defiled your mark on him; they have sullied the gift you have so kindly given him. And the fury that bubbles inside of Carlos in response is nothing short of harrowing.

Through the heaving breaths of the man he once considered to be his friend, Tyrell finally speaks up with a waver in his voice. "You-You need help, Carlos. I don't know who Y/N is, but-"

"YOU SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH!" Carlos' outburst explodes and the ringing of it settles like a blast wave. It bounces off the walls and reverberates through the ears of both men.

The anger is practically palpable. What Tyrell failed to notice through that rageful veneer was the pieces of Carlos' broken heart that lies beneath. With every passing second, this phantom within him reminds him of the state of your well-being. You're dead, you're gone, I won't see you ever again. With naivety Carlos excuses as the truth, he continues to ignore this voice. He has been stuck in a five-year-long chase with his logic and will continue running for five more if he needs to. And slowly but surely, this endless race is tearing him apart.

Tyrell leaves without so much as another breath. One question stays heavy on his mind, though. Whoever you are, Y/N, what the fuck have you done to him?

The patient must be given PTO to avoid another breakdown that could potentially accelerate into lethal violence — that was the "excuse" the doctors gave to the Sergeant regarding Carlos' wellbeing. This leaves him here. Alone and driving back to his estate. Meanwhile, his brain is blooming with iridescent fantasies he claims to be memories. Driving home to you after a long day of work and bringing you all the money and love you could ever ask for. He wonders, would you wait for him to come home? Would he find you asleep on the sofa, succumbing to your drowsiness before he'd be able to open the door? Or would you be in the bedroom? The soft glow of the lamp light framing your face as you peel back the covers, welcoming him into your idyllic embrace?

The tires of his car begin to skid off the road. Carlos is brought out of his imagination, where he then jerks the vehicle back into its proper position in the lane. You may just be the death of him, he muses. And when he finally arrives home, he tries to ignore the love letters he sent to you piling in the mailbox, the trinkets and clothes he bought you collecting dust, and the dinner he left for you that is now putrid and overwhelmed with mold. He tries to avoid how much it actually kills him. But still, this aching sense of dread rots in the pit of his stomach. It isn't until he glances at the calendar pinned on the wall does the devastation finally settle like fresh snow.

The date today was September 28th, 2004.

Six years.

It's been six years since he survived Raccoon City; it's been six years since he met you and lost you on the same night. This isn't the first revelation that comes to mind, though. Instead, he feels absolutely mortified by his own negligence. It's your sixth-year anniversary, how could he have forgotten? What kind of person, boyfriend, husband is he to forget this day? He should have brought home chocolate, flowers, shit, maybe even taken you on a month-long vacation to a resort across the world. God, how could he be so fucking stupid? You two could have been at each other's side during the most important day of the year (besides your birthday, of course). But no, he just had to get so caught up in his head that he forgot the anniversary of the day that made him the man he is today.

Another epiphany, one of the much more luminescent standards, hits Carlos once again. This must be why you had never written back to him. You aren't dead, you're simply upset with him! All the letters, all the gifts, all the plates of food, everything you have neglected — it was just your way of expressing your anger. Ha, take that, brain! And despite the circumstances, Carlos imagines the scowl on your face and is absolutely giddy from the vision alone. You're upset with him, yes, but you're alive. His sweet lover is here with a beating heart and an angry head. And God, does it make Carlos practically shiver with glee.

He then storms through his house, looking into every nook and cranny in search of you. "Y/N? Honey? Honey, it's me! Look, I know you're upset, but I promise I will do everything I can to make it up to you!"

"Where would you like to go? Hawaii? Paris? Shit, Italy? Wherever you'd like, Y/N!" With each room left devoid of you, that wrenching misery returns piece by piece and yanks on what is left of his heart. His voice begins to crack as he continues to shout for you. "Y/N, please! Please come out, honey! I'll do anything, Y/N... Please..."

Carlos then collapses to the hardwood floor, his body crushed with the sobs now protruding from his chest. Tears pour down his cheeks with uncontrollable force before landing on the ground beneath. And he cries so violently that he fears his ribcage may shatter from the force of it alone. He can't accept it, he can't, he can't, he can't. Even if this is what the rest of his life looks like, just veiling the truth with delusional fantasies, Carlos will never face the honest conclusion. He just can't.

"Please, bumblebee... I need you..." It's a final, desperate prayer. For your presence or for mercy, Carlos isn't exactly sure which.

He then digs beneath the collar of his shirt and fishes out the necklace he has worn for six years now. Swung upon a rusted chain is the charm of a bumblebee, the yellow and black shades now decayed with age. Carlos (as forgetful as he now realized he is today) will never forget when he first received the necklace. It was right before you had boarded the subway train that would eventually lead to your departure from life. How you enveloped him in your sugar-sweet hug and the way your natural musk sat on your skin still drives him nuts after all these years. The memory brings him great comfort on restless nights spent tossing and turning in bed.

At that moment, however, he never realized how constricting his hold was on you until he hears something snap. Opening his eyes and awakening from the stupor of his cartoon-esque infatuation, he finds how he had underestimated his strength and crushed the clasp of your necklace. The state of your beloved jewelry piece is left oblivious to you. Carlos wasn't given a second to process what had happened before you're peeling your arms off of him and boarding the train. In his hands are the remnants of the necklace you left behind.

The insect symbolizes perseverance, which he finds is a perfect way to describe his life today. Persevering through every day until he can finally let his body rest six feet under; persevering through every day until he can join his honey, his bumblebee through the gates of heaven. Carlos presses another kiss of millions to the pendant as he sits in his lonely house, pretending it is your skin beneath his lips instead of the rusted metal. His heart is shattered, his body is weak, and his brain is infested with every kind of mayhem he has ever known, but he will push through it. He will push through any and all kind of chaos knowing you are at the end of the finish line. Waiting for him.

The quick tune of an email alert brings Carlos out of his lovesick, grief-burdened daze. Suddenly being torn away from the thought of you makes rage flood through his veins. He stomps over to shut his computer off, maybe even throw the monitor against the wall in the process. When he catches a glimpse of what is on his computer, he hesitates. A loud gasp then escapes from him.

On his computer is an email from an old friend.

Carlos is able to fly into the country in less than twenty-four hours. He has to take several deep breaths in order to eradicate the black dots dancing in his vision as he races to Jill's apartment. Seeing her face and the present relief in her expression, the all-too-overwhelming revelation settles. Carlos is surprised he hadn't blacked out right there on her doorstep in response. It's time to finally get you back.

And just like Jill and Carlos had orchestrated after two weeks of planning how they'd release you from Umbrella's clutches, one sip of the cup of tea in your hands and you were out like a light. Your collapse was harsh, evident in the loud thud that permeated when you landed. Fortunately, you had your blanket-cape there to cushion your fall. It doesn't stop the two from bursting the bathroom door open and rushing to your aid, however.

Without your knowledge, Jill and Carlos then proceed to take you far, far away from the place you had once called home.

"What the fuck?"

Despite knowing you were sleeping soundly just several rooms over, your sudden presence still manages to have their breath locked in their throat. The way you look at one another contradicts each other in such discrete ways, it's almost comical. You're hyperventilating, staring at the scene in front of you with eyes blown in crazed shock. Six years of grieving through the most traumatic night of your life, why is it now you find out they have been alive this whole time? These two, however, stare into your soul with so much wonder, you're almost convinced they thought they were looking at some sort of mythological creature. It's almost as if they're hypnotized. No movement, no response — just pure amazement at the sight of you alive and looking at them with eyes full of life.

It isn't until you take a cautious step back does it trigger them to escape their state of captivation. You venturing further away from them, even just a pace — they can't let it happen. Never again. While Jill resorts to calmly approaching you as if you were a stray cat, Carlos makes an abrupt dash for you. You take several more steps backward before the man you presumed to be dead became inescapable. With another onslaught of tears brimming in his eyes and a whimper fleeing from his throat, Carlos practically tackles you into a tenacious embrace.

The hold he has on you is ridden with disbelief and desperation. He's shaking against your body like an Autumn leaf drifting through the wind. Burying his nose further into your neck, he inhales the musk that sits on your skin as if he had been trapped underwater and you were a pocket of air. God, Carlos wasn't even able to look at you for more than one second before he started blubbering like a baby. The man is so absorbed in the moment of finally reuniting with you, he almost misses it when Jill smacks him on his arm and growls through clenched teeth for him to "get his fucking shit together." But, Carlos refuses to budge. He is ready to beg Jill to let him stay here, to please let him revel in the fact that this isn't another fantasy someone will wake him out of.

He somehow nestles his face further into the crook of your neck and brings your body closer to his, almost as if he was trying to mold you together as one. And at this moment, Carlos has yet another revelation. Years upon years of imagining what heaven looks like, he was entirely incorrect. There are no clouds, no birdsong, no vibrant gardens. This. Right here in this moment, this is what heaven is. To have you, the partner of his dreams, so close to him is nothing short of heavenly. For six years, he has dreamed of this moment. And if he were to die at this moment, Carlos would be elated to know he died the happiest he has ever been in his whole life.

Meanwhile, you're thrashing in the tight hold of his constricted strength. It's almost hard for you to breathe with how hard he’s squeezing you. The woman you see over his shoulder is collected, but only a fool would miss the way her shoulders tense and nostrils flare with rage (and a sliver of possessiveness, too). She receives your silent plea and grabs a fistful of his mop-head of hair, using all the might in her arm to pull him away from his own bear hug. Carlos reluctantly loosens his grasp on your form. However, he then resorts to checking you for any and all signs of life.

The past six years have been spent dodging the logical answer to your disappearance. Now, however, the sight of you alive is just too good to be true. He begins thoroughly checking your body for a pulse, listening intently to any irregularities in your heartbeat. Anything to assure him you are actually alive and breathing. When every sign and question points to 'yes' over if you are here, Carlos can hardly contain it. Finally seeing you walking, looking, talking, alive — it's like the crescendo of a beautiful song.

Jill, as collected as she is, does not differ from Carlos' state of emotion very much. She has thought of this moment at least a million times, rehearsing every syllable and breath to make the moment all the more perfect. Now, however, every perceivable thought in her head was robbed the second you entered the room. How desperately she wishes to reassure your safety, inform you of the lies you were told, and vow to never let another soul lay a single hand on you ever again. But, with her racing heart and this grizzly bear of a man latched to you like a leech, her idea of the perfect reunion has been spoiled. Still, for six years she has longed for this. Whether it's a steamy kiss beneath the moonlight or caught in Carlos' mess of tears, she couldn't be more elated to finally have you again.

Much to your dismay, your empty stomach then grumbles its frustrations into the silent air. In response, your face grows warm in embarrassment. You had been so occupied with the current events and battling your shock, the dinner you had missed out on the night before had gone overlooked. The two, however, react much differently to your perceptible hunger than you. Without a mere second to waste, they're fawning over you as if you were some powerful deity and they were your humble, loyal servants. Their infantilizing treatment of you makes your skin burn with even more heaps of humiliation.

"Oh? Are you hungry? I've almost finished breakfast!" Carlos breaks physical contact to return to the stove and you have to restrain yourself from expressing your perceptible relief.

"I... I didn't have dinner last night." With an exhale of dry laughter, your attempt to lighten the mood only does the opposite. How could they have let you go hungry? They brought you here to care for you the way they deserve and they have already failed!

A gentle hand on your lower back causes you to jump in startlement. You find Jill beside you, who helps guide your trembling legs to the kitchen table. Though, it doesn't take a genius to notice the way her hand lingers. Finally free of any unsolicited touch, you sit down at the end of the table. The only way you can bring yourself to any state of ease is to ignore the relentless cooing of the woman beside you and the furious scraping of a spatula against a pan. Almost as if Carlos was speeding through the process of cooking in order to get back to you sooner. Jill then sits beside you, taking your hands into hers. Being free of physical contact was good while it lasted, you joke to yourself.

"You're real... You're real, my butterfly, you're real." Jill indulges in the reality of your genuine touch, before shaking her head as if to wobble her rationality back in place.

A plate is soon served before you. And it is easily the most delectable dish you had ever seen; it looked like something straight out of a magazine, despite the frivolous efforts made by the chef. A gourmet omelet sits in front of you, steam pervading the air in invading your nostrils with its mouth-watering aroma. Adorned with spinach, tomato, and feta cheese, you could have easily downed the delicious serving in one gulp. Nausea swaying in your stomach like a boat on sea prevents you from doing such. You thank Carlos through stuttering breaths and almost miss the way his body softens from receiving your gratitude.

Always so possessive, Jill reverts your attention back to her. "There is so much you are unaware of, Y/N. But, we're here to help. You don't have to be afraid a second longer." Her reassurance does little to calm your nerves. "Right, Carlos?" He only nods weakly, completely dazed as he stares at you in adoration. Had he even heard what she said?

"We will not let anything happen to you." The gravity of her statement practically touches your bones with its weight. It scares you, the severity of the declaration.

Terrified of angering them (even though there is not a single thing you could do that would ever irritate them), you grasp the fork laid out for you on the pristine table. Your efforts are halted by Carlos, who sits down beside you, opposite of Jill. To satiate his gnawing need for you to be close, he pushes his chair to touch yours until you are both shoulder-to-shoulder. After all, you must be so terrified upon being kidnapped by such an evil corporation. It is his touch and comfort you need to lull you back into a place of tranquility, he's sure of it.

Carlos then takes the fork from your hands, nearly passing out when your thumb grazes his hand. To your horror, he plucks some food onto the utensil and holds it up to your lips, ushering you to let him feed you. Almost as if this was some romantic anniversary or something. Reluctantly, you open your mouth and let him place the bite of food on your tongue. And you would be a liar if you said this wasn't the most delicious meal you have ever eaten. Your tastebuds adorned in succulent food and flavorful seasoning, you joke that this dish is compensation for all the turmoil this morning has brought.

Slowly, as Carlos was painfully milking the moment for as long as he could, your hunger is satiated. The joy he garners from merely feeding you radiates off of him like a campfire against the dark night brume. Once the plate is wiped clean of even the smallest crumb (despite your assurances to him that you were full), Jill then wipes the corner of your mouth with her thumb. Your holy attention is reverted back to Carlos when he pokes your lips with a straw, once again, ushering you to let him nourish your stomach. "To wash it down" he excuses, with far too much exhilaration hanging heavy in his tone.

Indulging in the cold, fresh water as it cascades down your throat, you miss how Jill brings her thumb, now adorned with bits of food and your saliva, into her mouth. And she just relishes in the absolute taste of you. Her vision goes hazy and her eyelids droop from the ecstasy. She would have let herself completely fall into the arms of enrapturing oblivion if it weren't for the fact you were right beside her. Carlos takes notice, however, and a sneer forms on his lips as he looks at her in disgust. Jill bites her tongue, holding herself back from pointing out how he is no different. So easily, she could inform you of how after your intimate bath together, she found him inhaling your sweater with his eyes rolled back into his skull and his hand stuffed into his pants. If she were to voice this, however, the man would easily throw himself over the table and attack her like a feral animal. She can handle him, but you don't need even more stress.

Upon being thrust into the middle of this mess, the only thing you can do is watch as the obsession of Jill and Carlos play out before your very eyes. And the physical manifestation of your return has caused disastrous consequences. Six years and you're ashamed to say you have forgotten what their facial features looked like. The memory remains as a blurred, distorted mess of blood and grime. An expression of all the trauma you all have endured. Now, however, you'd be damned if those were two expressions you could ever forget.

Carlos and his dark goo-goo eyes, adorned in overwhelming heaps of drowning devotion that could swallow you whole with one glance. They're affixed with teardrops, adding onto everything cherubic, holy about the way he looks at you. Despite the sheer display of sadness leaking from his eyes, his lips exhibit the biggest, most genuine smile you have ever seen in your life. The way he looks at you, it's almost as if God himself had descended from the heavens and graced Carlos with his presence. All from just the mere act of feeding you. It was deranged, you thought to yourself.

His smile vanishes, eyebrows raising as something seems to click in his head. He then takes your right arm gingerly into his grasp, fingers treading amongst the field of goosebumps blossoming on your skin. "Your arm, you poor thing... Are you okay, honey?" The worry in his voice makes you shiver with convulsion. It takes you several seconds to compute that he was referring to the injury you endured six whole years ago.

Jill and her cheeks that are blazon in hues reminiscent of two ripe cherries, appending a sort of childish innocence to her always-stoic expression. The way her eyebrows furrowed and eyes narrowed displayed a sense of fury — presumably toward the man clinging onto you like a lifeline. When she looks at you, however, her features perceptibly soften as if beams of sunlight had enveloped her after years of being in the depths of Winter. It was deranged, you thought to yourself.

"You... You kidnapped me..." Even through all the violence and torment these two have endured, nothing had cut deep than those three words. The waver in your voice, the emotions brimming in your eyes, the trembling frown plastered on your lips. God, it killed them right then and there.

They begin to ramble and deny your accusation. All as if it wasn't a lie coming out of their mouths. And in their heads, it was anything but a lie. They truly believed that they saved you as if it was a genuine fact. Somehow, they manage to inch closer to you. The empty air around you becomes suffused with their waving hands and panicked explanations. All to convince you that they would never hurt you. Never.

"You're upset, Y/N, we understand. But you have to know that this was for your own good!" Jill remains the voice of reason, if that's what you would name it. Meanwhile, Carlos throws shambles of assurances such as, "It's not true!" and "I need you!" your way, hoping that something, anything will mend your fears.

And poor you. So confused, so terrified, so bewildered. All you could want at this moment is to go back twelve hours ago. To leave with your friend the second they entered the room, to scrutinize what in your home had caused you to black out, to burst down the front door and beg the the surrounding security guards to save you. Even though the truth of your “home” simmers just beneath the surface, itching to claw its way out, you still find yourself aching to go back to the way things were. Even if it is all just a fat lie. Anything is better than this.

Miles upon miles away, the three of you are completely unaware of the fourth presence treading closer to their secret. Suspicions high, Tyrell can't help but use some of his free time to venture into why Jill and Carlos had suddenly vanished. For the umpteenth time, he looks through more footage from the security system Jill was so insistent on receiving. And what he finds is horrifying. The two people he had once considered his friends were seen climbing through a window, to where they escape moments later with an unconscious body.

A flare of guilt spreads through him. Unwillingly, he had actively played a part in this. Whoever you were, he felt inclined to take full responsibility for helping these two take this innocent life away. To be kidnapped, murdered, he doesn't know. What Tyrell does know, however, is that he feels to be partially blamed for this. When he does further research, his heart sinks even deeper into the pit of his stomach. Reports of a missing patient were sent around the establishment. Y/N L/N, a potential runaway was actually the body nestled tight in Carlos' arms. He remembers how he had spoken that name and the reaction it garnered from Carlos; he remembers seeing the name on the door of the room Jill relentlessly paid him to receive footage of.

With that, Tyrell reports the incident. An investigation commences and two major clues are found. A shattered mug that had been filled with sedation-induced tea and specks of blood on the bathroom floor that have been tested positive for matching one of the assailants. Now, a manhunt is in play for Jill Valentine and Carlos Oliveira.

At his desk that was overwhelmed with littering documents, Tyrell eavesdrops on a conversation between his two colleagues.

"You won't believe who they've gotten to take over Carlos' spot for this mission!"

"Who?"

"Leon Kennedy."

⁺ 🎧 , 🪷 ۫ you are currently listening to . . . ⁺ 🪺 , 🎵 ꪆ

THE BONUS TRACK !

❝ WE WERE WILD AND FLUORESCENT

COME HOME TO MY HEART . . . ❞

this is what i imagined the necklace carlos stole borrowed from you to look like. however, you can imagine it as whatever you'd like!

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nsharks · 1 year

Note

can we have more of fighting n make up w ghost plsss :,)

I love me my angst teehee

your first christmas with simon is by far the worst

very brief death mention

In the beginning, when your relationship is still a hesitant little game, Simon's mood can be hard to follow.

There are days between your visits at this point. He'll call you sometimes at odd hours to ask you over. Sometimes because he likes sipping tea with you. Most of the time because he wants to bury himself inside you and make you whimper.

He likes your company.

So much so that he calls you one evening, this time requesting: "Come play Scrabble with me, pet."

You'd been expecting him to invite you over, but not for this. This enigma of a man left you dumbfounded. "What?" was all you could say.

"You said you like it, right? Played it as a kid?"

You shook your head to yourself, disbelieving of his attention to the many details you'd ranted about over the past six months of knowing him. "Um, yes, I did say that."

But that was just one piece of Simon: inviting you over to play board games, grumpily bantering with you when you'd beaten him three times in a row (You must be hiding letters from me. Bloody hell.), then grabbing you by your ankles and dragging you across the rug so he could get you on his lap. He'd given a reproaching spank to your butt and said you had to ride his cock as an apology for cheating. (M’not cheating, Simon, I swear!) But you had no problem apologizing to him, there on his living room rug.

That was one piece, and then the other piece of him would arrive just a week later. Creep up on you until he wasn't even the same person anymore.

One evening, after inviting yourself over (because he'd oddly dropped off the grid for a few days), you are greeted by someone who smells an awful lot like Sterlings. He lets you in, but he's stiff. Withdrawn. He doesn’t offer much of a greeting. Just lets you tell him about your day. His hands are restrained to the pockets of his hoodie and you feel cold in the absence of their attention.

"Are you going to get a tree?" you ask him, forcing a smile despite the weird tension.

"What?"

"For the holidays," you clarify. "You know... to decorate."

Latent eyes. "Don’t plan to.”

Tongue pressed to your cheek, you decide to excuse yourself shortly after that. You mewl over your confusion that night underneath a hot shower.

Your patience and kindness is what entangled you with him in the first place. It’s also what results in you inviting him over to your flat the next day with a little surprise, hoping to bring back the man who’d played Scrabble with you and showered you with kisses.

He presents himself at your door with black sweats hugging his hips and a long-sleeved shirt. The mask, ever-present.

“I’ve got something for you,” you tell him after he’s inside, not bothering to kick off his boots.

Simon only offers you a quizzical look before waiting there as you grab the plate of cookies you’d made. But when you show him your attempt at frosted snowmen and Christmas trees, you suddenly start to feel a bit silly.

“I’ve never made these kind before,” you mutter sheepishly when he says nothing. Just stares at the cookies with a hard look. “Look, I promise they taste good. I also got you a little something.”

And then you’re pointing to a gift under your tree—

—small, humbly wrapped.

“It’s nothing much,” you shrug, chewing your lip. “It’s just something I picked up today. I thought you might need help to get you in the holiday-“

But the shift in his mood is not what you’d hoped for.

It’s strange. Like he hates everything he’s hearing.

The tension in Simon’s shoulders only seems to have woven deeper into the very fibers of him, and he’s suddenly staring between you and the cookies and the Christmas tree.

“What made you think I would wan’ any of this?” Simon cuts you off, each word a slow punch.

You must’ve misheard him. “Sorry?”

“Fuckin’ hell. I shouldn’t have come.”

Your faces pales. “I don’t understand—“

“Don’t understand what? That I don’t give a shit about the holidays?” And his low voice seems to have the same effect as barbed wire. The sheer mass of him suddenly becomes starkly apparent, filling up the room. “Can I make it any clearer for you?”

It’s a little thing called hindsight that gnaws at you. Prickles your eyes. Don’t plan to. You realize, in his own way, he’d already told you how he felt about Christmas time.

But the humiliation draws out a soft snap from you, “Is it so hard to just say thank you?”

“I didn’t ask for this,” he huffs. He’s truly angry: you can’t begin to understand why. “I don’t want it.”

“A normal person would just accept it,” your fingers press into the plate. “Not be such a dick.”

“A dick, yeah?" A bitter taunt. "Can be a real dick if you want me to.”

“Jesus, Simon! No, I don’t want—“

“You sure, pet?” He gestures to the plate in your hands and the tree. “Maybe if you see just how much of a dick I can be, you’ll give this shit up.”

His eyes, typically dull and unreadable, shoot you a scrutinizing look that doesn’t even seem to resemble him. But those eyes open up to you, just for a moment. A vulnerable flame doused in what your own perception detects as guilt. Deeply buried guilt that he doesn’t know where to put right now except onto you.

“You know what—“ you’re turning from him with curled lips. Hurt. Embarrassed. There’s a splintering sound when the plate of cookies, ceramic and all, is shoved into the bin.

“However bad of a person you think you are, Simon… I promise, you are even worse than that.”

The words blister your mouth on the way out.

You don't look at him. Just listen, with your hands pressed to your temples, as you hear the thunder of his boots on his way out the door. A slam reverberates through the walls, through your trembling hands. The tears finally seep out once he’s gone. The choking kind. Leaves you a bit numb and empty by the time you’ve ghosted your way into bed.

And at this point in your relationship, there’s no Simon knocking at your door that night. No verbal apology— because Ghost never has to do that. Why would he? You're not even officially his girlfriend yet, just someone he can't seem to shake off. Someone who he thinks about a lot and someone who thinks about him. Someone who'd try, with gentle hands and patient ears, to show him that it's not so bad to be cared for.

You don’t hear from him for days. Empty days that ridicule you. A gift under the tree that snickers at you.

But did you really think he’d let you in?

There was a stony wall he’d put up long before you. Here and there, you’d manage to poke some of the bricks out, peek your gaze through. It was becoming apparent that you’d never truly find a way over it, though.

Until a little box shows up at your door—

—filled with cookies.

It’s a silent offering; you know it once you see the silhouettes of their Christmas shapes. You cry instantly. There’s no name, no message, but you know it’s from him.

That’s all there is, though. And although the box of cookies finds home on your kitchen table, you urge yourself not to give in no matter how strong the itch. You just find his name on your phone and blearily stare at it that night.

A few more days.

Finally, one evening, a dubious knock—

—you can’t stop the hope that carries you to the door.

Simon stands, looking at his feet, anger subdued, and his eyes carefully lifting up. Any scrutiny that’d once been there, storming in his pupils, has long settled. Baring its true skin of sadness.

He’s got something in his grip that you don’t notice until he’s walking in on his own accord.

His name leaves your breath but he must not hear it. Just sits down on your couch and looks at you expectantly. You join him, but leave a purposeful gap, because that scent, that warmth, would diffuse your efforts.

In his hands, a bear. Dwarfed by his palms.

“This was my nephew’s,” he tells you gruffly. Clearing his throat, he hands it to you and gives a little nod, as if to say have it. Within just days, Simon managed to give you the only two gifts he’d ever offered in your relationship. Perhaps, it’s how he thought apologies worked.

You take the bear with gentle hands and feel the aged softness, the worn love. Embedded in it: was, was, was.

Things start to click. You recall his guilt, his hate for the holidays: the distance and anger you’d witnessed in him had really been grief.

“Simon, I can’t take this from you.”

“It just sits in my closet,” he mumbles. Then, a low beg, “Take it… Please.”

You nod.

And then, Simon’s fingertips reach over the gap to touch your collarbone, a tentative request for permission that you give by saying: “It’s okay.”

It’s all he needs to hear before resting his head atop your shoulder. That skin between his brows pressed to the firm bone of you, and you feel it twist tightly to indicate that he closing his eyes, hard. Not crying, no. He didn’t have that in him. But you think, in this moment, that his offering of tender vulnerability is more than enough.

He has poked out one of the bricks in that wall for you.

“Was a proper dick,” he admits in a grumble. Mask lifted to allow a solemn kiss to you neck.

“You were,” you whisper. “But… I didn’t mean what I said.” About you being a bad person.

“Okay if you did.”

But you tell him again, shaking your head and touching his back: I didn’t mean it. And you repeat it a few more times for him until he truly hears you.

And maybe Simon won't spend Christmas day with you. No, he's not ready to let you see that much of his grief. But for tonight, he'll share those cookies with you and open that little gift you got him and tell you a few things about his nephew. Mumbling softly, "you would've liked him, I think."

#sad boy #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #cod #simon ghost riley #call of duty #fanfiction #ghost #fluff #angst #tw death #fem!reader

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whumpthemusical · 5 months

Text

Whump: The Musical Prompts!!

As stated before, this challenge will run from March 1- March 31, 2024. All fandoms are welcome to participate despite it being prompts based off of musicals. Once again, all types of media are allowed. This challenge has the standard "choose one for the day" style, but feel free to do all three prompts if that's what you want to do!! All types of whump are allowed, but please be respectful to your fellow audience members and properly tag it!! Some of these prompts are sensitive, so make sure you warn your readers correctly! There will be an ao3 collection and an FAQ post coming soon, so if you have any further questions or comments about this challenge, feel free to drop me a line. Happy writing, my beautiful ingénues, and enjoy the show :)))

The prompts will be listed under the cut for those who have difficulty reading fonts!!

Cats- Sabotage • Second Chances • "I Can Dream Of The Old Days."

Wicked- Mob Mentality • Propaganda • "No Good Deed Goes Unpunished."

Jesus Christ Superstar- Whipping • Betrayal • "Then I Was Inspired, Now I'm Sad And Tired."

Les Mis- Survivor's Guilt • Failure • "Drink With Me To Days Gone By."

Heathers- Poison • Reluctant Whumper • "Wanna fight for me?"

Newsies- Chronic Pain • Exploitation • "Let 'Em Laugh In My Face, I Don't Care."

The Last Five Years- Infidelity • Gaslighting • "I Will Not Lose Because You Can't WIn."

Hadestown- Deals • Doomed Narrative • "Doubt Comes In."

Sweeney Todd- False Imprisonment • Razors • "Have You Decided It's Safer In Cages?"

Rent- Substance Abuse • Poverty • "Feels Too Much Damn Like Home."

Bare: A Pop Opera- Outing • Religious Trauma • "Please, See Me."

Waitress- Unplanned Pregnancy • Abuse • "She Is Broken And Won't Ask For Help."

Tick Tick Boom- Atychiphobia • Working To Exhaustion • "Is This Real Life?"

Dear Evan Hansen- Deception • Broken Bone • "Words Fail."

West Side Story- Star-Crossed Lovers • Prejudices • "A Boy Who Kills Cannot Love."

Come From Away- Stranded • Aftermath • "Blankets And Bedding And Maybe Some Food."

Spring Awakening- Withheld Information • Suicide • "I Don't Scream, Though I Know It's Wrong."

Hamilton- Hurricane • Dueling • "I Will Kill Your Friends And Family To Remind You Of My Love."

Falsettos- Sickness • Identity Issues • "Death Is Not A Friend."

Into The Woods- Blame • Lost • "Nothing But A Vast Midnight."

The Great Comet- Abduction • Letters • "Did You Love That Bad Man?"

In The Heights- Grief • Homesickness • "I Know That I'm Letting You Down."

Be More Chill- Mind Manipulation �� Panic Attack • "Everything About Me Makes Me Want To Die."

Moulin Rouge- Class Differences • Sex Work • "Come What May."

Chicago- Cold Blood • Trial • "He Had It Coming."

Six- Execution • Trauma Bonding • "Playtime's Over."

Ride The Cyclone- Unexpected Tragedy • Forgotten Whumpee • "I Hear The Anguish Of The Street."

The Rocky Horror Show- Obsession • Wrong Place, Wrong Time • "I've Seen Blue Skies Through The Tears."

Nerdy Prudes Must Die- Bullying • Ritual • "Who Will Pray For You?"

Jekyll And Hyde- Duality • Good Vs Evil • "If I Die, You'll Die."

Phantom Of The Opera- Disfiguration • Shunned • "My Power Over You Grows Stronger Yet."

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shintin · 6 months

Text

Forbidden Flames

↳ Gojo Satoru x Female Reader

One-shot

Summary: Satoru Gojo receives a letter, inviting him to a secluded cottage in the forest. Is it a trap by curse users or a haunting memory trying to scratch his wounds?

Or a story about how You and Satoru Gojo fucked after years.

Word count: +11 k.

Genre: explicit smut, romance, angst (Jujutsu Kaisen au).

Warnings/Tags: +18, NSFW, reader-insert, no Y/N, post-breakup, soft Satoru Gojo, curse user reader, no death, too much fluff and kissing, cunnilingus, creampie, fingering, unprotected sex (c’mon! we all want this), multiple orgasms, hair pulling, tear licking, emotional trauma, emotional sex, no manga spoilers.

Notes: Hey there! I wrote this because Gege Akutami left an emotional mark on me. So, you know...

You can read the "Disclaimers" at the end.

Song Recommendation: Forbidden Flames Playlist

You can read my fics on AO3. If you have any questions, don’t be shy and ASK.

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As the afternoon sun cast long shadows through the dense foliage, a mysterious man with stark white hair and a black blindfold stepped into the heart of the desolate wilderness. Satoru Gojo. The air hung heavy with the earthy scent of wet soil mingling with the musty aroma of decaying leaves, a reminder of the rainstorm that had visited the night before.

Every step he took got lost between the giggles and hisses of harmless curses hiding behind the trees with fear. The ground beneath his feet was carpeted with a mosaic of fallen leaves, their vibrant red, orange, and gold colors now muted and lifeless, as if drained of all vitality. Some of them, with still a breath to take, crunched beneath his weight, the sound of a heartrending dirge that reverberated through the desolation.

Tall, gnarled trees stood sentinel on either side, their branches reaching out like skeletal fingers as if yearning to trap the unwary. Their towering forms were shrouded in darkness, their essence reduced to withered remnants. They whispered mournful laments in the wind, their voices carrying tales of forgotten sorrows.

The forest, once flourishing and thriving, now seemed like a tragic tableau frozen in time. The canopy above formed a suffocating barrier that only got disturbed by the man's ethereal presence. Wild ferns brushed against his legs, leaving behind a trace of dew upon his black trousers. The moist ground yielded beneath his every step as if reluctant to release its grip from his boots' footprints.

As he pressed further into the jungle, the darkness deepened, the path twisting and turning like a labyrinth of despair. The shadows grew longer, stretching out like grasping tendrils as if eager to ensnare his soul. The silence became oppressive, broken only by the occasional painful cry of a distant creature.

The cottage he had received its address stood as a solitary figure amidst the gloomy jungle, a crumbling monument to forgotten dreams. Its dilapidated walls whispered of lost hopes and shattered promises, its windows veiled with white curtains.

With his hands casually tucked into his pockets, he watched the scene before him, a twisted smile playing upon his lips. He thought it was a perfect place, a trap waiting to spring him. But who would be foolhardy enough to challenge the strongest of all times?

But wait!

He couldn't feel any cursed energy! His six eyes were dumb. There was only one who could blind their watchful gaze.

So, when Satoru Gojo approached the house, his heart quickened after a long time, anticipation and anxiety coursing through his veins. The stage was set, the elements conspiring to test his resolve. Would he emerge from this shadowed encounter unscathed, or would the jungle claim yet another victim, lost to the depths of its sorrow-laden clutches?

Satoru's focus fixated on the doorknob, a slight gulp revealing his hesitation. Taking a deep breath, he turned and pushed open the door. The scent of something sweet enveloped his nostrils, a reminiscent embrace that momentarily distracted his senses. However, as his eyes met the sight that awaited him, an unexpected revelation struck him with a force that resurfaced long-forgotten memories.

The inside resembled an aged hideout, with wooden walls and colorful chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, casting warm, dappled patterns on the worn tatami floor. In the center of the room, a round table took its place, adorned with a vase of delicate forget-me-not flowers. Flanking the table were two chairs. And then, in the small kitchen stood the person who had left a void in his heart.

"You're late," your voice rang out in a cheerful tone, beckoning him forward. "Come inside. It's chilly out." With your back facing the door, you stood at the counter, appearing preoccupied with unwrapping something.

Caught in a maelstrom of emotions, Satoru's thoughts fragmented like scattered puzzle pieces, their intended purpose obscured by the inner turmoil. His hand held the doorknob tightly, trapped in a state of ambiguity, unable to release its grip.

Was this a mirage? How could it be that when you seemed precisely the way he had traced the outline of your body in the air while lying in bed, unable to sleep?

Yes, of course, there were nights when the desire to run his fingers through your hair filled his dreams. It was inevitable; your scent permeated everything, even riding on the breeze. There were days fatigue misled him, mistaking weariness for the embrace, he craved, only to discover the hollowness within his very bones. Your body was no longer curled around him, no comfort, and in your absence, each day left him icy, with lips turning blue and hands yearning for the warmth of your touch. He felt adrift in a blizzard, seeking the faint flicker of a fire you had extinguished.

What the fuck is wrong with you, Satoru? Think! Is this a manipulation technique?

And then, as if compelled by an unseen power, you turned your head, causing his heart to skip a beat—countless beats. You were undeniably real.

No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.

Seeing you was akin to being hit in the knee with a bullet. Satoru's legs nearly gave way, his heart raced, and his hands turned clammy, almost causing him to collapse. He had never felt this urge to tear off his blindfold before, as your departure had happened so abruptly that he didn't have a chance to see you. Although he had committed every detail of you to memory, but this…this… witnessing it in person was an entirely different experience.

He stepped back, feeling the heaviness of the past, necessitating some distance. The harsh truths loomed, threatening to engulf him as he wrestled with the profound effect of your presence. Yet, he couldn't tear his gaze away from you, his mind struggling to comprehend the unfolding situation. The reality was so surreal, making it difficult for him to grasp that it was really occurring.

"Why are you just standing there?" you asked, holding a pack of his beloved Kikufuku mochis in your hands. A radiant smile graced your face, illuminating the damp room with its brightness.

He couldn't give two fucks about mochis when your face had that effect on him, always causing him to lose track of where he was, who he was, and what he might say or do. And that familiar smile, it killed him a little. His gaze remained there, lingering for too long, his concealed eyes giving away his thoughts. "Why do you have that look on your face?" you asked, tilting your head with curiosity and stepping closer to him.

As you stood before him, the closeness amplified the wave of emotions within him. Joy and disbelief raced through his veins. The fragrance that surrounded you, so hauntingly acquainted, sparked a rush of nostalgia.

Satoru Gojo was born with a specific purpose, a set of perfect eyes, and the weight of his lineage on his shoulders. He was reserved and calculated. When he mastered the Limitless technique, he concluded that infinite solitude was the only way to survive. Because how he could describe the experience of seeing everything, for when you see everything, you see nothing. An excess of color turns into pure black, an infinite void.

Yes, he was born with those six eyes. People never let him forget. But to you, his eyes were simply eyes. He recalled the first time you teased him about them and how his heart caught in his chest because he had never seen someone as vibrant and colorful as you.

It wasn't exactly love at first sight, but it was something like that. The first time he saw you, he felt it. An ache. Like a little electric burn. He felt his life changed.

Gradually, his loneliness began to dissipate. He found a place for himself in this chaotic world. With you, he could laugh, cry, joke around, and even be a brat. It was something no one could genuinely grasp—the feeling of finally being alive as a person. Before you, he felt he hadn't truly existed, merely scattered atoms in an indifferent universe following a predetermined path. But you changed everything. You dismantled and rebuilt him anew. You molded him, nurtured him, and despite him being the strongest, you kept him safe.

Without a noble title or material wealth, you were everything that went against the expectations of the Clan Elders. Yet, you stood faithfully by his side, precisely where he believed you belonged. Or at least, that's what he presumed.

Then, on that fateful day, the day he desperately wished was nothing more than a dreadful nightmare, reality unfolded before him. How could it be real? He stood there, confronted by the lifeless bodies of two Higher Ups and their protectors, with you covered in their blood. It was inconceivable. He couldn't accept that you were responsible for such a gruesome scene. Yet, you showed no remorse. You firmly believed it was the only solution, fed up with their destructive actions that brought ruin upon sorcerers deemed insignificant. You had accepted the notion that a problem without a remedy should be eradicated like an unwelcome weed.

On that day, he considered shaking your shoulders and demanding that you deny it all. He even contemplated going against everyone because what was the fucking point of wielding such power if he couldn't safeguard the woman he loved? The thought of quitting and escaping with you crossed his mind, too. He was willing to sacrifice everything: power, wealth, status, even his own life. However, you didn't desire any of those things.

His friend, Suguru Geto, once posed a question: Was he Satoru Gojo because he was the strongest, or was he the strongest because he was Satoru Gojo? At that time, he had no answer. A 17-year-old couldn't possibly find a response to such a profound question. However, when you entered his life, everything changed. Being the strongest lost its significance. He was just Satoru Gojo, and he was who he was because you loved him. His existence held meaning because you touched his life. He saw because he needed to gaze upon you. He spoke because he longed to hear your voice.

And then, similar to his best friend, after causing a bloodbath, you also walked out of his life. Yet, this time, it wasn't solely loneliness that engulfed him. It felt like one of his lungs had been taken away, and he heavied without you by his side through each passing moment. He became nothing once more. There was a hole in his life where you used to fit perfectly, and no matter what he did to try and fill it, nothing worked.

It was a strange anguish, a pain he never anticipated or conceived of. It consumed him from within, setting him ablaze with a profound emptiness. Then, defying the assumption that someone as formidable as him could experience sorrow, he was burdened with the task of erasing you. It was as if you were deemed nothing more than a blemish, a dishonor.

"What... what look?" he struggled to say, his voice tinged with a desperate yearning. Regret lingered in his tone as his words fell short. With a touch of vulnerability, he shut his eyes beneath the comforting confines of his blindfold, seeking refuge in the veil of darkness. Taking a deep breath, he consciously filled his lungs, using them as an anchor amidst the swirling storm of sensations enveloping him.

"That look," you remarked, your voice carrying a mischievous tone that floated in the atmosphere. "It's as if you don't trust me," you added teasingly. A few playful strands of hair escaped their intended position and delicately framed your face, casting a bewitching allure. An irresistible urge welled within him, compelling him to extend his hand and tuck those strands behind your ear—stupid muscle memory. However, he restrained himself, his hand suspended mid-air, resolute in resisting the magnetic pull of his desires.

"Why did you invite me here?" Satoru voiced, his grip on the doorknob loosening as the impact of reality settled upon him. The initial shock transformed into a lucid understanding. He wasn't oblivious. He knew that you were aware of his assignment to eliminate you. So, why? Was it because you recognized your unstoppable nature? Was it because you had realized that the blackhole existed within you, devouring everything you once held dear unless someone intervened?

"You could have refused to come, yet here you are," you whimsically remarked, a devilish glint in your eyes as you punctuated your words with a wink. You strolled over to the weathered table and set the pocket upon its aged surface.

"Cut it out!" Satoru snapped, his frustration mounting. "You know, I had no idea it was you!" His heart thumped in his chest, urging his feet to move forward, even as his mind screamed at him to flee. A sense of unease gripped him, acknowledging the futility of engaging in a battle he felt ill-prepared to win.

You turned towards him, a hint of a smile gracing your lips as your hands stayed concealed behind your back. Leaning against the chair, you arched an eyebrow, your eyes locked on him. "I have a feeling you knew it was me as soon as you arrived at the house," you declared, a jovial tone lacing your words. "After all, I'm the only one capable of concealing my cursed energy from you."

"We both know that I shouldn't be here. I—" Satoru's sentence dissolved, left unfinished, as your hand reached out, bridging the gap between you with a gentle touch. Infinity never worked with you. Even the very essence of the cursed energy recognized that you posed no threat to him. Furthermore, he would gladly provide you with any justification to touch him.

Lost in his reverie, Satoru suddenly became acutely aware of your presence. The magnitude of his longing and the depth of his yearning surged within him. In that instant, he recognized the immense emptiness you had left and how much he had missed you. Emotions swirled together, blending past and present, uncertainty and desire, in a delicate dance that would shape your fates.

"Why are you here, then?" you inquired, and his eyes met yours, reflecting the same yearning that dwelled in his heart. "Tell me, did you come in to kill me?" With a deliberate movement, you folded his fingers, molding them into the shape he would use to unleash his hollow purple. Bringing his hand close to your heart, you held it there. Despite the gravity of the situation, a soft smile adorned your lips.

He couldn't do this.

Taken aback by your unexpected gesture, Satoru swiftly withdrew his hand from your grasp. Anger and heartbreak swirled within him, entwining in a tumultuous storm. The realization hit him like a relentless wave, crashing against the shores of his consciousness. How had you drifted so far apart? When had the divergence between your paths become so profound that he failed to notice? The weight of your choice, to embrace the life of a curse user, to tread a road stained with blood, bore down upon him with a heavy burden. The pain on his face mirrored the fracture within his heart, a sense of loss mingling with a flicker of betrayal.

He wished he could say something. He wished he could start yelling, expressing all the thoughts and desires he had harbored since then—whether shouting, pouring out his heart, or expressing frustration. However, he adhered to the predetermined script you anticipated because he loved you unconditionally, unable to deny you anything.

"I didn't think so," you murmured, closing the gap between you, pressing your lips against his in a way that effortlessly eroded his resistance.

You tilted his face down, your hand caught somewhere behind his neck and the base of his jaw, and you kissed him softly and slowly, heat filling his blood with dangerous speed.

One of his hands naturally found its way to the back of your waist, holding you with a gentle yet possessive grasp, while the other securely clasped your arm, pulling you closer.

He felt incredible against you, your bodies fitting perfectly. Nothing ever came easier than kissing you. Every thought and worry wicked away, replaced by the feel of his mouth against your skin, his hand claiming your body.

In that moment, his eyes, his legacy, his clan's name, and the orders given about you faded away. This was his true purpose.

As your tongues entwined, a surge of electricity coursed through his veins, his body responding to the intoxicating enchantment of your touch. Your fingers traced the outline of his blindfold while others clung to his uniform as if he were your sole fulcrum in a world spinning out of control. Your back arched, and he embraced you tighter, his grip firm yet tender, his long fingers leaving an indelible mark upon your skin.

Breathless, as if you had just completed a marathon, you reluctantly pulled back from the heated exchange. Drawing him nearer, he yielded willingly, allowing you to guide him wherever you desired because wherever you led was where he believed to be his destination.

"Take this off," you beseeched, desperation and sorrow permeating your words as your forefinger lifted his blindfold and let it fall to the floor. His tousled hair cascaded softly over his forehead, unable to hide the azure eyes that had once captivated your heart.

In his eyes, tragedy and beauty could be seen, a stoicism that wouldn't be shaken, and childlike joy that couldn't help but flow.

He swallowed, and you shifted your hand to his ear, lightly grazing his earlobe with your pinkie before tracing down his jawline. There was no rejection, yet no clear confirmation either. Your hand brushed against his undercut as you continued.

"There you are," you whispered, your voice laden with kindness. Tears welled up in the corners of your eyes, a solitary droplet making its way down your cheek as you gently cradled his face in your hands. He looked down at you, counting each tear on your lovely cheeks.

He clasped your hand, kissing your palm before guiding it to rest upon his heart. It was the same foolish heart, steadfastly beating for you, never having faltered. Through teary eyes, you looked at him, and he remained struck by the sheer beauty that not even your tears could diminish.

As your bottom lip quivered beneath his touch, quickly, with a light sweep of his hand, he wiped away the tears that stained your stunning eyes. You missed him too, didn't you? Was it painful for you, too? Silly girl! You couldn't maintain your carefully constructed facades for more than ten minutes when it came to him.

The realization washed over him, dispelling any remaining doubts.

Without a second thought, he effortlessly lifted you, your legs encircling his waist while your hands secured around his neck. Engrossed in a fervent kiss, both of you surrendered to the moment as he clasped your back firmly, pulling you closer to himself, relishing the flavor of your lips.

Letting go wasn't an option when every fiber of his being had missed you.

Determined and resolute, he carried you out to a room he presumed to be the bedroom, even though it didn't matter whether there was a bed or a simple mattress; what mattered was the way your touch kindled a blazing fire within him, and he had no intention of bearing that flame alone.

Keeping you securely nestled in his arms, he forcefully kicked open the door and lowered you onto the welcoming comfort of the bed. The urgency to discard his black jacket left no room for delay. At the same time, your nimble hands deftly undid the buckle of your pants, but before you could remove them entirely, his hands moved with an instinctual hunger, swiftly stripping you of the garment and casting it aside as if propelled by an untamed fervor. The passion between you burned fiercely, filling the room with an all-encompassing energy that eclipsed any other thoughts or worries.

With a quick movement, he discarded his black t-shirt, revealing the well-defined curves of his chest that shimmered with a touch of sweat. His desire was tangible, his lust unmistakable as he straddled between your parted legs, his hands grasping your nape.

The taste of his lips met yours, initiating a sequence of fervent kisses that persisted without pause, each delving deeper than the last. The world around you lost its significance as your breaths synchronized in rhythm, the heat between your bodies escalating.

In the meantime, your hands moved swiftly, deftly unbuttoning your shirt.

As his lips briefly separated from yours, he uttered a whispered confession. "I hate how bad I want you," he admitted, his voice carrying a raw sincerity. However, before you could reply, his attention shifted to your neck, where his teeth gently grazed your sensitive flesh, leaving behind tracks of tantalizing nibbles and passionate kisses.

You couldn't help but release a gasp as pleasure and a twinge of pain electrified your senses, sending delightful shivers coursing down your spine. In the throes of passion, your hand curled into a fistful of his hair, a silent request for more. Call it masochist, but he loved it when you did this. He tenderly pulled at your hair in response, tilting your head back ever so slightly, baring more of your vulnerable neck to his hungry mouth.

Then, you did what came naturally to you. With a voice brimming with longing and ecstasy, you spoke his name, "Satoru," the sound slipping from your lips like a hushed prayer.

His actions came to an abrupt pause. His lips separated from your skin, and his grasp on your hair loosened as if a sudden realization had hit him like a splash of icy water. It was ironic how you still possessed this power over him, a power that could both thrill and unsettle him.

The sound of his name on your lips had become something he treasured, and damn it, he had missed hearing it again. Just like every fucking tiny thing he had missed about you.

With a sudden movement, he withdrew his head from the crook of your neck and brought his forehead close to yours. His hands found solace in brushing back strands of your hair with comforting strokes.

He shut his eyes, and in a whisper, his voice carried a hint of fragility, a rawness that tugged at your heartstrings. "Say it again," he pleaded, his voice breaking under the pressure of unexpressed sentiments. It was as if that simple word held immense significance, a lifeline to his heart that he desperately craved.

Without hesitation, you took a steadying breath, the name forming on your lips.

"Satoru."

"S-Say it kinder."

"Satoru."

"Say it slower."

"Satoru."

"Say it gentler."

"Satoru."

"Say it louder."

"Satoru."

"Say it as if you wanna tell me you miss me."

"Satoru…"

"Say it as if you're annoyed that I eat so many sweets."

"Satoru!"

"Is this why you made the trip to Sendai just to get me those mochis?"

…

"Say it."

"Satoru."

"Say it as if you ever cared, spared a single thought for me."

"SATORU."

"Say it as if when you lied in bed, you remembered something I once said."

"Satoru."

"Say it as if it hurt you too when someone said my name with yours."

"Satoru."

"Say it as if every time a door opened, you too expected me to walk out of it, that every time you cooked, you hummed my favorite songs."

"S-Satoru…"

"Say it as if you need me."

"Satoru."

"Say it again."

"Satoru."

"Again."

"…Satoru."

"Say it as if you want to tell me something important."

"Satoru."

"Say it as if you want me to know you won't stay."

"Toru."

"No. Not like this."

"Satoru?"

"Please."

"Satoru."

"Say it as if you want me to know you're gonna run away again."

"Satoru…"

"Huh. Better. Now say it as if you wanna tell that you slept badly without me, that you only dreamed of me, and in the morning, you woke up exhausted without having any desire to live."

"Satoru."

"You don't have a line, do you? No remorse. No regret. Not even a single thought for the man you left behind like a walking ghost. And you won't ever stop."

"Satoru."

"Once you were gone, they gathered all your belongings as evidence. See this hair tie on my wrist?" He lifted his hand. "This and your sweatshirt, which no longer carries your scent, are the only things I have left. Say it as if you still have that shirt of mine."

…

"Say it!"

"Sa-to-ru."

"Did you know that I actually thought if I messed myself up, went all self-destructive, and threw a massive tantrum, you'd come back? I mean, why should I bother taking care of myself? That was supposed to be your job, right?"

"Sa…toru."

"Oh, by the way, I completely wrecked that bench on the hill where you used to sit. And then I went ahead and destroyed the whole damn place, then just sat right there amidst the wreckage. I mean, why should I even give a damn when you stopped caring about me? Say it as if you get where I'm coming from."

"Satoru…"

"Yet you know what's funny? Ask me if I still love you like the first day?"

"Satoru?"

"It can't be just me, right? You can't be done with me. Tell me you love me."

…

"Okay. It's—"

"Satoru. Satoru. Satoru. Satoru. Satoru. Satoru. Satoru. Satoru…"

Everything he thought he knew flew right out the window. He had noticed the tremor in your breath and the shake in your voice, but the desperate murmurs of his name caused his eyes to flutter open. Your face was marked with the faint traces of tears, glistening in the light.

You blinked, revealing a spectrum of sadness and beauty unlike anything he'd seen before. The ability to convey so much with just a glance caught him entirely off guard.

Without hesitation, he leaned in and pressed his lips against the curve of your cheeks, softly caressing them. Nuzzling his nose against your skin, he lovingly kissed away the salty tears, his tongue delicately brushing your face with a soothing touch. Each tender movement provided a comforting solace during your emotional moment.

As he lovingly attended to your tears, you reached behind your back and unclasped your bra. He paused, eyes widening in surprise. However, before any words could escape, you leaned in and kissed him. In that single gesture, you conveyed your desires, and he, in turn, found his answer within the depths of that passionate kiss.

As soon as his palms glided over your smooth skin, delicately capturing your erect nipple between his fingers, the bra was tossed somewhere amidst the bedding.

"Lie back," Satoru instructed. He then crawled onto you, your bare chests meeting. He supported himself with his arms on either side of your head to ensure he didn't crush you under his weight.

He positioned himself atop you, overwhelmed by the yearning that had built up in your absence. The thirst to have you beneath him had grown insurmountable. He had craved the sight of your body begging him to take you, the undeniable desire radiating from you.

He locked eyes with you, keeping you in his gaze as he absorbed every aspect of your beauty. The polished planes of your face shimmered with fresh tears, adding a new layer to the bliss. Your eyes were rimmed with redness, solely for him, and this sight rendered him speechless.

Because what if he accidentally stumbled upon the wrong words, and the magic vanished, snatching you away once more, leaving him with nothing but a pumpkin carriage and a single pair of shoes?

He didn't want his arms to be deprived of your warmth. Your touch. Your lips. God, your lips. Your mouth on his neck. Your body wrapped around his. He couldn't bear losing you again, and the realization was like a pendulum the size of the moon. It wouldn't stop slamming into him.

Blinking his white lashes, he swallowed back the fear building in his throat.

What an irony!

The strongest wasn't fearless.

With his knee between your thighs and his body pressing closer, he realized he was paying attention to nothing but the dandelions blowing wishes in his lungs.

"When we were together, I became you," he stated. "You became the reflection I saw in the mirror, and I liked it more. So, I stopped being myself. It was fine because I had you. But when you left, I lost myself along with you."

"Satoru," you called, your voice soft, so soft. He wasn't unfamiliar with the touch of women, but yours were gentler, yet deadlier than them all. "I'm sorry for bringing us to this point." You drew his form closer. The resonating beats of your heart were audible, pulsing deeply within your chest. "Will you ever forgive me?"

Your words unleashed a tumult of feelings within him. Goddammit. He wasn't lost before he met you, but he found himself after having you, only to get lost more after losing you.

Satoru's tears stung as they fell backward down his throat, burning as they went. "Kiss me, and I'll forget everything," he uttered.

And you complied. You kissed him as if swimming through rivers of honey, as if being dipped in pure gold, like diving into an ocean of bliss, and he didn't realize you two were drowning because he was too caught up in the current to notice. Nothing held significance anymore—neither rules, nor the room, nor even the entire fucking Jujutsu society.

All that mattered was this.

This.

This very moment. These lips. This delicate body pressed against his, and these warm hands always discovering new ways to hold his heart.

Oh, My!

He wanted so much more of you. He wanted every part of you. And he kissed you back. Like a mild breeze. Like cherry blossoms. Like a blue spring.

Again.

Satoru drew away. It remained a secret, but piecing himself back together hurt just as much as falling apart. It felt like an ache that needed to be soothed.

You were the cure, so his finger lightly grazed the corner of your mouth, tracing its shape, curves, and subtle crevices. As he kissed the corner of your eyebrow, he whispered your name. His lips brushed over the shell of your ear, causing a slight squirm in your body. He planted a kiss on your neck, just beneath your earlobe, and you tilted your head, inviting him in. Perhaps you resisted the urge to plead for more, for a faster pace.

You used to love this, remember?

His lips moved down the expanse of your neck, delicately tracing the sensitive skin of your collarbones. Not content to be passive, your hands ran down his back, roaming over his broad shoulders, pressing into his back dimples, and clutching his hips. With a handful of his hair, you pulled him closer, leaving small kisses on his neck, arms, and chest.

It was incredible. Being with you, touching you, having you like this. The adrenaline rush was so powerful and euphoric that it made everything feel within reach.

He muttered your name, his lips mouthing the letters, barely speaking.

He pressed his lips against your upper lip.

He ran his tongue along your lower lip.

He planted kisses beneath your chin, on the tip of your nose, along your forehead, temples, and cheeks across your jawline. Then he moved to your neck, behind your ears, and the space between your breasts. Delicately, he nibbled on your sensitive nipples, leaving a trail of kisses all the way down to your belly button until his entire form moved down your figure, disappearing as he shifted downward, and suddenly, his chest was hovering above your hips.

As his lips descended towards the hem of your underwear, he lifted his head right before crossing that boundary, locking eyes with you. His gaze carried a mix of intense reverence and a silent question.

You met his gaze, the unspoken understanding passing between you. Your nod conveyed an affirmation, a wordless permission to continue. With your approval, he lowered his head once again. Before you knew it, he skillfully used his teeth to remove that small piece of fabric while the captivating scent drove him wild with desire.

Having removed your panties, his lips continued exploring, leaving heated kisses and lingering caresses from your toes to your thighs. Firmly holding your calves, he parted your legs, creating just enough space for his head to fit between them.

Your thighs were lifted, obscuring him from your sight. All you could see was the top of his head, the curve of his shoulders, and the unsteady rise and fall of his back as he breathed. Eventually, even that view vanished as his lips closed around your clit, causing your head to fall back and muffled moans to escape your lips.

Satoru's large hands trailed down and up your exposed upper thighs and ribs, tightly gripping your hips to keep you in place. He delighted in how you squirmed each time his hair brushed against your groin, until his tongue slipped into your hole, and the taste of you made fireworks explode in the back of his head.

With his right hand pressed against your stomach, his tongue danced and teased, evoking ecstatic cries from your lips. His mouth explored the known territories you had never witnessed, yet he remembered them intimately.

While fully engrossed in eating you, he suddenly and intentionally slipped his middle finger inside, and his mouth fervently sought to suck the soul out of your essence as if seeking retribution for all the times he had jerked off thinking about you creaming around his shaft. That's why he left you on the precipice of climax, working his way up your body. Satoru was never cruel enough to deny you the release you craved, so his fingers remained ready.

With an eagerness to witness the pleasure etched across your face, he slowly ascended your body, his touch kindling a burning anticipation within you. Continuing his exploration, his adept fingers navigated their way to your most intimate region, gently pressing against the delicate entrance.

"Let me know if it hurts, alright?" he whispered, his nose caressing the skin of your stomach, placing sporadic kisses around your breasts and collarbones to alleviate any tension. His disheveled hair and moist lips were evidence of the indulgence in your sweet taste.

"Take it easy— ahhh!"

He wore a satisfied smile as two of his large fingers effortlessly slid into your slit. Your nails dug into the sheets, whimpers escaping your lips as his hand rhythmically moved up and down within your tight walls.

Your mouth opened in a soundless moan, and he peppered you with kisses all around. Tears glistened in your eyes, and tiny strands of hair clung to your sweaty forehead. When his thumb rubbed, and the fingers hit all the right spots, your throat wailed in frustration.

You firmly grasped his free arm and tugged him towards you, bringing him closer until he was on top of you. You might have turned into a cold-blooded curse user, left dead bodies behind, or broken his heart apart, but you were still the same girl beneath him. The girl who would laugh with joy and steal his treats. The girl who would fiercely fight by his side and protect him. The girl who would easily surrender and moan in his ear.

He pressed his lips against yours, a reminder of the residual sweetness on his tongue. Just like in the old days, a soft moan escaped your lips as soon as you felt your own taste. If this gesture could convince you to stay with him, why not revel in it? He willingly opened his lips, inviting you to delve deeper, your tongues intertwining and brushing against his teeth.

The stinging bitterness of the past was long gone. He had forgotten everything. Although there was something he knew he shouldn't forget, he couldn't recall why or what it was. With his hard length suffering in his boxers and his digits thrusting backward and forward, paying attention to anything else was hard.

Seeing your desperation for his touch proved to be his downfall. He could die from this, he decided. From wanting you, from the pleasure of being with you.

He wore a smile as you locked eyes and reciprocated with your smile. He pressed his forehead against yours, his skin flushed with heat. With his other hand, he held your head steady while your hands clutched his neck, your palms gliding over the area just above his neckline, and your fingertips tenaciously pressing against his undercut.

"Sato..." you managed to utter, your voice quivering with pleasure as the orgasm washed over you, consuming your senses. Waves of euphoria rippled across your body, inducing uncontrollable tremors. Amidst your release, a single tear broke free, tracing a glistening path down your cheek, much like the cascade of emotions that flowed within you.

While he remained atop you, his voice reached your ears, his lips near your earlobe. "Can you sit up?" he whispered, burying his face in the curve of your neck, allowing your ragged breaths to brush against his shoulder.

Still struggling to catch your breath, you managed to mumble, "Yeah, but..." However, before you could complete your sentence, the bedding beneath you shifted as Satoru pulled you into his arms, clutching you tight.

He exhaled and looked at you, but this time, there were stories in his eyes, thoughts, whispers, and feelings of things he had never told you. He looked like he was hanging on his sanity by a fraying thread—you.

He touched your flushed cheeks as if uncertain of your tangible presence. His four fingers caressed the side of your face with tenderness before sliding behind your neck, caught in that in-between spot below your ear, and his thumb brushed the apple of your cheek, then grazing your bottom lip.

He pondered the countless things your lips had done. They had touched, kissed, and pressed against sensitive areas of his skin. They had spoken lies and made promises, and the words they had formed, the shapes and sounds they had shaped, he yearned for them all.

Satoru inched closer, cradling you like you were made of precious crystals. Holding you and looking at his own hands as if he couldn't believe you were real and truly there.

"I'm right here, baby. Look at me," you whispered, grasping his hands and kissing them.

All six of his eyes obeyed and stared at you. Gone was the curse user targeting Higher Ups. This woman before him had never done anything wrong. You were perfect and kind, untouched by the horrors of death.

He took hold of your hands and pressed your palms against his face, reclaiming the tears you had bestowed upon him. With an eternity of love, he whispered your name in the softest of whispers.

What if this was a dream?

He shook, shuddered, splintered into teardrops, and you embraced him like no one had before. Overwhelmed by the intensity, he struggled to contain himself, but seeing you cling to him as you might never let go stirred something within him. It was a heady sensation, knowing that you were there, caring for him, desiring him, needing him in this way. It made him believe that this was indeed real.

Gently, you stroked his silvery locks of hair and placed a kiss on his forehead. Gradually, your arms became the arms around his neck; your lips became the lips pressed against his, your body the warmth he felt. Funny how the moment he felt your touch, it burned a hole right through his head and pulled all his thoughts out.

He wasn't even breathing, but he was alive, and he was kissing you. Deeply, desperately. His hands fervently caressed the small of your back as he lifted you onto his lap, and instinctively, your legs wrapped around his hips.

Then, it was your turn to reciprocate. You planted kisses all over him—his cheeks, eyelids, chin, the tip of his nose, and the space between his eyebrows. You trailed along his forehead and traced his jawline, covering every inch of his face. These kisses conveyed more than words ever could.

And you took your time.

As your mouth moved down his neck, he let out a gasp. It was a moment to relish. Your tongue continued to worship the hills and valleys of his well-defined arms, tracing the graceful curves of his collarbones. Inhaling the intoxicating scent of his skin, you savored his taste. Your hands explored his abs, tracing along his navel and the delicate trails of hair beneath.

He broke apart with your small licks here and there, breathing hard, and stared at you dumbfounded. His mind remained hazy, unable to fully comprehend how your fingers toyed with the waistband of his boxer briefs.

Tilting your head to a side, you pressed your lips against his again, seeking him with a burning need, a new kind of desperation. Your other hand threaded in his hair, your lips so soft, so urgent against his, like fire and cinnamon exploding in his mouth.

Satoru nibbled your bottom lip in a flash before pulling back slightly. You were flooding his body with so much heat and desire. You parted your lips to sigh in his mouth, and that slight sound of pleasure drove him to the edge of madness.

Just as he was about to bring his mouth to your nipples, your hand suddenly slipped into his underwear and encircled his erectness pressing against your groin.

Oh.

Well.

He clenched his teeth, suppressing a groan. Oh God! He had fucking missed you holding his member in your palm. But you didn't stop at that. He gasped as you began to rub the tip with your thumb. His body ached everywhere as he tasted the colors and sounds that existed nowhere else. Your forehead rested against his chin as you continued to stroke his hardness up and down beneath his boxers. You were untamed, cruel, yet remarkably gentle.

"Take it off, Satoru," you whispered in his ear, your breath ragged. "I want you in me. Deep. Right. Now. Please."

He was beyond the reach of rational thoughts. Beyond words, beyond comprehension. The world was beyond understanding because nothing could ever compare with this. Nothing could ever capture the way he was feeling right now. He was left with only this very moment: You on his lap, your warmth against his hands, and your lustful eyes fixed upon him, making him absolutely insane.

Satoru held onto your waist with a firm grip, lifting you slightly, and in the blink of an eye, his briefs glided down his long legs until their whereabouts became irrelevant in the heat of the moment.

The wetness between your thighs was no longer a hidden secret, just as his hardness was revealed when you surrounded each other everywhere.

He watched as you reached down and guided his erection against your slippery entrance, making a few strokes to ensure the perfect alignment. His racing pulse could probably be felt in your palm and soon inside you.

Using both hands, he gripped your hips and pulled you downward, drawing you closer to him. A gasp escaped your lips as he entered you, always surprised about his size. He intended to allow you time to adjust, but you fervently clung to his neck, hitching your legs around his waist, urging him to penetrate you completely. A scream escaped your lips as you bit into his shoulder blade, but he remained composed, relishing the sensation of stretching you. He cherished the feeling of your inner walls squeezing him and the weight of your body against his balls. To be honest, he would stay like this forever.

Feeling your readiness, his hold tightened, and he started moving your body up and down. You cried out as you nestled your cheek into the curve of his neck, and he felt like dying and somehow being brought back to life in the exact moment, in the same breath.

Fuck! You were full of him.

He raised your thighs, stifling a groan that threatened to rip his throat as your lips met his. It left him bewildered, pondering why he hadn't perished, burst into flames, or snapped in half.

The room was consumed by silence, punctuated only by the sound of your heavy breaths. Your chests pressed against each other, colliding with the rhythm of your pulses.

As he sensed your arms tightening around him, he reciprocated with heightened strength, lifting and thrusting you with an intensity that transcended the bounds of restraint. Each movement struck the place he knew too well.

His teeth captured your bottom lip, eliciting a momentary jolt of pleasure. Your nails pressed into his shoulder as his fingers ran through your hair, pulling you nearer, immersing you in the fervent abyss of his mouth. The taste of you was a captivating fusion of sweetness and passion, an intoxicating blend that left both of you craving for more.

He kept trying to say your name, but he found himself unable even to catch his breath, let alone speak a single word.

The pace increased slightly; each thrust was hard, deliberate, wringing gasps, whimpers, and long, rolling moans from you.

Your eyes tingled with tears, falling fast down and traveling quietly down your cheeks. He cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs two parentheses in your mouth, touching your tongue and the saliva within. It was as if he had discovered an oasis in the vast expanse of a desert, gazing at you with eyes ablaze like fire reflected in water.

"I love you," he whispered over and over, his voice fragile and uneven. His lips covered yours in a tender kiss. He kissed you and tasted your tears, the lasting essence of pleasure in your mouth. He kissed you and kissed you until time toppled over, and your heads spun into a blissful oblivion.

Your head rested against his, and as you delicately nipped at his earlobe, he felt stripped down to his very core, just as he had unraveled you from within. Your sweet little tongue was frantic when you whispered, "I'm yours to love."

Something inside him melted. Hearing your words, he held still for moments, sucking in the air because he felt almost dizzy with satisfaction, running his hands over your thighs.

You. You belonged to him. You didn't erase the pain you had caused. You didn't fix everything you'd broken, but that wasn't what he needed anyway. All he needed was you, and with you, everything would be alright.

He firmly grasped your buttocks, burying his face against your shoulder as he sped up. He was shattered to pieces, but with you, he got put back together differently, better, and more himself than he ever could have been. Gritting his teeth, he succumbed to the impending climax. His hands glided along your back as you shuddered, your inner walls pulsating around him so hard that he couldn't hold back his release. With a growl, he thrust wildly, once, twice, until everything around you both turned to a world of vibrant colors and radiant light, where the sun shone, oceans sparkled, and Sakura trees bloomed.

Both of you were lying on a pillow, breathless and sweaty. Satoru's face was buried in the crook of your neck.

Your hand had delicately weaved its way into his hair, fingers stroking the silky strands as you both sought to ground yourself in the aftermath of your orgasms.

You rested your cheek against his head, your voice carrying a hint of breathlessness as you began to speak. "How is Shoko doing?

"She's probably smoking even more now," he murmured, his lips grazing against your shoulder as he pulled you closer. Despite the physical closeness, a deep ache echoed within him, yearning for an even deeper connection that felt just beyond his grasp. The desire to merge both body and soul, to be completely intertwined with you, was tangible in his touch.

His arms tightened around you as if attempting to bridge an unseen gap that couldn't be seen, but he could feel it. Each hug and touch was an attempt to mend the distance that pained him. The depth of his need reverberated through his being. It was visible in the depths of his eyes. It sucked to be this close yet feel so far from someone. But he didn't want to worry. As long as you were together, he believed nothing terrible could happen.

"Why probably so?" you asked, your curiosity piqued as you turned your head towards him. Your lips touched his soft, silky white hair. "Is it because of the numerous missions you're taking?"

"You seem to know every detail of my life," he remarked, turning his head towards you, the closeness so intimate that your noses nearly touched. His hand found its way to your arm, his finger tracing a path down its length, lost in contemplation.

"I've always kept tabs on you. I'm not even ashamed of it," you declared, your attention fixed on his ocean-blue eyes.

He let out a shaky sigh. "There's no longer a reason for me to stay in Tokyo like I used to," he whispered, his voice hinting at wistfulness. The words floated in the air, pregnant with unspoken meanings. As he locked eyes with you, his gaze transformed into a sea of emotions, reflecting a profound depth of feelings that transcended mere words.

"What about your students?"

"They're doing well even without me," Satoru said, his voice filled with fondness and melancholy. As his hand gracefully slid into your hair, he tucked back the strands that obscured your face, revealing the beauty of your features.

His thumb stroked your cheek in a soothing gesture. "Megumi came close to expanding his domain," Satoru continued, his voice filled with a hint of excitement. "Yuji would be thrilled to—"

"No, Satoru!" you interjected, your voice resolute. Your firm interruption halted his sentence as your face displayed a frown, your eyebrows furrowing with determination. "The answer is no!"

Satoru's hand dropped weakly onto the sheets, his fingers losing their previous touch. When his gaze met yours, a deep sadness flooded his eyes, turning the serene ocean within them into a turbulent storm.

He struggled to find the right words to make his case but couldn't resist trying to reason with you. "Come back with me. I have enough power and privilege to protect you—"

"I don't want your protection!" you exclaimed, your voice carrying a sharp edge that cut through his being. The words resounded with a harshness reminiscent of the day you decided to leave, which had left an indelible mark on both of you. It was a day that Satoru had always blamed himself for, haunted by the belief that he had failed to notice you drifting away.

His eyes, filled with sorrow, locked onto yours, silently begging for understanding as he summoned the bravery to express his deepest desires. "Don't you want a life with me?" he questioned, his voice brimming with the dreams and aspirations he had envisioned for both of you. "What about living in a house with blue shutters, windows overlooking the ocean, and—"

"How are you still such a wide-eyed, dreamy little boy, Satoru?" you remarked, your voice tinged with tenderness and sadness. As you spoke, your hand extended, interlocking your fingers with his. "Stop living in a fantasy world," you urged. The words pleaded for him to accept reality and let go of dreams no longer aligned with his chosen path. "Even if I had the chance to go back, I wouldn't want to," you continued. "The Jujutsu society is a broken bone that won't set right, and no matter how much you try to mend it, it won't work. I started hunting Higher Ups because I have a purpose. I can't be by your side."

As you raised your head, a glimmer of compassion and understanding shimmered in your eyes. The pain etched on Satoru's face was evident to you. In a gentle tone, you encouraged him, saying, "We've made different choices. Don't judge me because I never questioned why you didn't follow me. Our approaches may differ, but we share the same dream of creating a better world. So, I don't regret leaving, but if there's anything I regret, it's not cherishing every moment I had with you. But I'm doing it right this time. I'm memorizing every detail, so I have something to hold onto."

Your words bounced around in the fog of his head, blurring his senses, misting his eyes, and muddling his logic. In his bones, there was just ice. His entire being wanted to vomit. Reality slapped him in the face, punched him in the jaw, and dumped him into the ocean.

Until today, he thought he had fully come to terms with everything. He believed he had adapted to living with your absence, like a disabled person learning to avoid putting weight on his injured leg. However, deep down, he knew he was living on eggshells, always wondering when something would break, when everything would crumble.

But with your answer, stacks of sorrow grew inside him, settling on his bones as if a cable had twisted around his neck, a worm crawling across his stomach. It was the night, midnight, and the twilight of indecision. Too many pains to bear.

He realized how foolish he had been to believe he could simply blend in and lead an ordinary life.

Satoru.

Satoru Gojo.

Satoru Gojo, The Strongest.

The mere thought of it filled him with mortification.

He shook his head, coughing as his lungs were tormented, heaving strange, horrible gasps until his whole body spasmed into submission. His head was spinning, thoughts knocking into one another. With clenched fists, he fought against the misery, forcing it back down. Not again. Not again. Not again.

"Satoru?" you called out to him, and a thousand pieces of feeling stabbed you in the heart. Realizing how deeply he loved you kept hitting him in the face, the skull, and the spine. He ran a hand across his face and through his hair, displaying signs of wanting to scream, to break something, as if he was on the verge of losing his sanity.

You hugged him, bridging the gap between your bodies and leaning your cheek against his rock-hard chest. Your hands caressed his stomach as your lips left random pecks here and there.

"It's not just your shirt that I have," you expressed. "I also have our shared blanket from our room and a collection of photographs I'm too afraid to look at. I fear that if I see them, I'll go right back to you and beg your forgiveness."

You dropped a kiss on his chin. Then, on the curve of his shoulder and his shoulder blades. Five kisses down his throat, each softer than the last. You kissed his cheeks, hands, and eyelids for every moment of loneliness he had ever endured.

You continued, "My body hasn't realized we are no longer together. It calls out for you at night, unaccustomed to not having you tightly enveloping me like a second layer of skin."

He closed his eyes and breathed heavily, trying to gain control of himself. "Why are you putting me through this?" he asked, his hand caught in his hair. "Why are you scratching my wounds?"

"Because I want to remake you again, Satoru. You should get broken apart and rebuild in a way that won't cause you pain anymore." You kissed the hand covering his mouth, not holding back. Keeping your head there, you leaned against his heart.

"It's not as straightforward as a simple yes or no," you said, your voice cracking as you spoke. "Let's just enjoy this moment together..."

A sudden searing heat flashed behind his eyes, and his heart leaped at your response. His hand trembled, and his eyes were willing and wanting but filled with sadness.

He shifted his gaze towards you, his eyes open, jaw clenched tightly, and muscles tense. Breathing heavily, he wasn't sure what to do with himself. The ache in his chest had grown more assertive, more painful.

You lifted your head and reached up to stroke his cheek. "Love is the most twisted curse," you murmured as you tilted his chin toward your mouth. He blinked rapidly. Words were whispered upon his lips that no one had ever spelled out for him. "And we are the most cursed of all, aren't we?" you told him, watching the movement in his throat and his effort to keep it together. It didn't take you long to kiss him again. Tenderly.

Unable to find the right words, he relied on the language of touch, pressing his lips against yours. A sigh escaped into your shared kiss, and you responded by kissing him even more passionately, almost desperately, as if trying to pass over your breaths to him. The taste of salt lingered on your tongues. The wet drops falling on your cheeks made his flesh burn. Unsure of whose tears they were, he continued to cling to you, even if it was almost for the final time.

The saddest world in this whole wide world was "almost." You almost came back to him. He almost had you. You two almost made it.

You woke up with a smile, feeling a pleasant warmth enveloping your skin, remnants of the memories from the previous night. The room was filled with a fresh ambiance, hinted at by the open window that welcomed a gentle breeze. The scent of damp earth filled the air, evidence of the rain that had visited during the night.

Letting out a sigh, you brushed your face against the pillow. Your hand instinctively reached out to where Satoru was supposed to be, but a pang of emptiness washed over you. He wasn't there, and your eyes flew open, a sourness clouding their once-serene gaze. Something felt wrong.

Suddenly, sitting up, a sense of panic pulsed through your veins. The realization dawned upon you—Satoru had left the bed, and his absence spoke volumes. Your glance darted around the room, searching for any signs of his presence, but his clothes were nowhere to be seen.

An agonizing grip took hold of your heart. Conflicting emotions wrestled inside you. You had voiced your decision to part ways, to not be by his side, yet the depth of your desire for him remained steadfast. The pain and the desperate desire for his warmth was a stark reminder that not wanting to be with him didn't mean you were prepared to let go of him completely.

The bitter yet undeniable truth surfaced: as much as you and Satoru were meant to be, fate had not deemed you to last.

You could still feel the lasting presence of Satoru's cursed energy, an invisible thread you could identify even blind. Simply by scent, you would recognize it. It was a power that transcends physical senses, one that would recognize it in death, at the end of the world.

You swiftly snatched your robe and hastened out of the room. And there he was, Satoru, fully dressed, his blindfold tightly secured, sitting still in a chair, facing the untouched mochis. The hair tie was also on the table, indicating that he had removed it from his wrist. You couldn't determine whether it hurt you deeply to see him letting go of a part of you or noticing that he had left his beloved treats untouched.

He wasn't looking at you, so you had time to observe things you hadn't noticed yesterday. He had visibly lost weight. His hair showed signs of splitting and thinning, probably due to stress. Nightmares didn't let him sleep. His uniform appeared wrinkled, and his breaths were unsteady. You knew it wasn't your place to worry about him anymore, but you couldn't help it. Taking care of him had become a habit. He appeared weary, displaying the same profound exhaustion you experienced, filling you with fear.

His shoulders quivered up and down, and you could tell he was crying even though he was silent as a corpse. Your heart quickened as you approached him. With trembling hands, you reached for his blindfold, a desperate attempt because, goddammit, you fucking loved his eyes.

"What are you—" you started to inquire, your voice fading as you recognized that your touch couldn't reach him. He had activated his Infinity. Manually. Deliberately. A wave of profound sadness washed over you, tears welling up in your eyes, yet you swallowed them back, resolved to keep your composure. Your hand hung suspended, mere inches away from him, a symbol of the unbridgeable gap that had grown between you.

Then, in a sudden movement, Satoru stood before you, donning a black jacket that draped his figure. His voice emerged raspy, filled with a raw intensity that conveyed the turmoil within his heart.

"I can't handle this anymore. I can't continue being whatever I am to you," he admitted, his words heavy with a sense of resignation. The understanding that the current situation was no longer viable had taken hold of him. "If you want things to remain this way, I can't ignore the fact that we are enemies at the end of the day." He subtly avoided meeting your gaze, averting his eyes from your messy hair and the persistent sadness in your eyes.

"Can you honestly believe that?" you questioned, your voice brimming with incredulity. You took a step forward, narrowing the physical gap between you. It was essential for him to grasp the magnitude of your anguish and directly witness the toll your choice inflicted upon your heart.

Satoru took a step back, his brows furrowing beneath the blindfold that veiled his eyes. "It doesn't matter what I believe," he declared.

Despite the barrier that prevented physical touch, you closed your eyes, driven by the overwhelming desire to bridge the divide. Ignoring the protective shield of his Infinity, you leaned in, your lips seeking his in a desperate act of defiance. Tears streamed down your closed eyes as he relinquished the barrier that kept you apart. You pressed your lush mouth against his. It never took him long to respond, to part his lips. He kissed you back, holding your head steady with his hand while his other embraced you tightly. He had your heart, and you loved him quite horribly, too. This fact always smacked you over the head so hard you felt dizzy.

You held each other tightly, his arms enveloping you as his fingers intertwined with your hair. In that stolen moment, you caught a glimpse of the life you longed for—a life filled with love. Having this every day was within reach, but the harsh reality of the jujutsu world loomed, casting a shadow over your fragile dreams. The awareness that he would be exploited until his final breath burdened you deeply. Unable to witness his suffering, you knew you couldn't change your decisions. You had to reset this Jujutsu World. For him. For his students. For the happiness you owed yourself.

As your lips reluctantly separated, a bittersweet trace of saliva remained between you. Satoru gripped your shoulders, and as you glanced up, you noticed his blindfold was damp, indicating the tears he had shed.

You lowered your head. "I wish you had never crossed paths with me," you murmured, keeping your gaze fixed on the ground until he reached out and lifted your chin.

"I wouldn't take that chance. Not in a million infinities. Because there was love, even if it didn't change anything, even if it made the pain worse, love was there," he said, staring at your mouth. "I'll love you in this life. I'll love you in death and in whatever lies after. And likely even beyond that," he whispered. The words did something to you. They burned something inside of you. You swallowed hard. A fire consumed your mind. "No matter what, I'll always love you," he declared, and pain filled your veins. You could feel it in your blood.

"Satoru," you whispered. Your eyes fogged up, but you blinked rapidly, trying to clear the tears away. You couldn't let a second of this be blurry. You couldn't afford to allow any of this to slip away. His absence felt like a missing limb, and his longing for you was a bullet in the head. How could he still love you? How could he find relief in your touch?

"But if we meet again," he said, his thumb brushing against your earlobe. "Just kill me. Because I'll be forced to kill you, and it's the same thing." As if the longer he held you, the more he would want you, he let go of you.

The enormity of his duty and the unyielding constraints of the jujutsu world, forcing him to make an unbearable choice, hit you like a cold gust of wind, leaving you feeling isolated and abandoned. The chill of that moment seeped into your bones, and you couldn't help but wonder if he had felt this same frigid loneliness when you had left him behind.

Satoru walked towards the door, each step carrying the finality of his decision that settled upon the room. Pausing at the threshold, a silent plea lingered in his words. "So, please, I beg you to stay away from me." With those words, he severed the last thread that had linked you, leaving you with a deep sense of loss.

The door closed behind him, leaving you in an empty and heavy space with unspoken regret. You were alone again, bereft without him, half dead without him. You opened your mouth and screamed. You screamed and screamed until your voice cracked beneath the pressure. Until you feared your throat would shred from the force. You wanted to crawl outside of your body so desperately so that you could escape this feeling.

No one ever warned you how men with such pretty eyes, who smelled like vanilla, tasted like rain, and talked like silver, were the reason behind tear-soaked pillows, half-finished poems, and so many sad dreams.

One last shout ripped out of your throat, this one so full of pain that brought you to your knees. You crumbled. The raw sound tapered off, fading into a hoarse, staccato cry. You sucked in a deep breath, filling your lungs with oxygen you didn't want, but you were too lost in your grief to scream like you wanted to.

It seemed like Satoru Gojo's story had peaked, and anything that followed wouldn't hold the same significance to him. Because for him, there was before you, and there was during you. For some reason, he never thought there would be an after you. But there was, and he was in it. He would be in it forever.

Moving forward, he silently implored his bones to remain firm, to support him for the remainder of the day and beyond. He ventured through the forest, his steps disturbing the mud and leaves as his footprints gradually faded away until there was nothing but the empty silence of a long, lonely dusk.

Tag list: @istanuwow @anime-lover1234 @rentaldarling @enchantedforest-network

Disclaimers:

This creation draws significant inspiration from the incredible artistry of @animaybi (TikTok) and features quotes from the captivating writings of @starlightonthewaves (TikTok). Both of these talented artists deserve immense praise for their remarkable contributions.

Art is created by me.

Are you cursing me for writing this? :D

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lewmagoo · 2 months

Text

six summers | bob floyd

description: it's been six years. six years since you walked away from the man you loved. six years since the night that your own foolish actions led to the disappearance of sixteen-year-old melissa seresin. you’ve spent these last few years living with crippling guilt. and after everything that happened, the last thing you are expecting is an invite to return to the camp and reassume your role as counselor. but here you are, staring in disbelief at a letter asking you to do just that. providing you with the opportunity to make things right. will you be able to come to terms with the past and allow yourself to accept this second chance? or will you let your guilt consume you?

characters: bob floyd x reader, the dagger squad as their respective characters, pete mitchell, penny benjamin, a number of my own ocs

warnings: 18+ only, mentions of death, guilt, references to sex, mentions of anxiety

series status: ongoing

listen to the playlist here!

this story is inspired by @ryebecca and this fantastic moodboard she made ; i also drew some inspiration from riley sager's the last time i lied

*this is my own original work - i do not consent to having it reposted or redistributed in any way

July 30th, 1980

1:15 am

All you felt was terror. Icy cold, like someone had shoved their frigid fingers beneath your shirt, digits pressing harsh, angry bruises into the skin while they were at it. Your arms were wrapped around yourself as you stood in the damp morning air, your eyes flitting about nervously, your gut churning with nausea.

“You do realize that your negligence in this situation is going to come with consequences, right? How could you be so stupid?!” Penny Mitchell’s voice had a sharp edge to it, despite her lowered tone. Her eyes were piercing. You couldn’t look at her.

“Don’t try to pin this all on her. I’m just as much to blame.” That was Bobby’s voice, coming from beside you, an air of protectiveness emanating from him as he stepped closer, standing in solidarity with you.

“Oh, trust me, I’m holding you responsible, too. But she’s the one who was supposed to be in charge of that cabin. If she would have been at her post, this wouldn’t have happened. But no! The two of you were off doing God knows what, while one of our campers wandered off into the night!”

Penny got into your face, pointing her finger, her anger palpable, radiating off her in waves. “You had better pray that girl is still alive, because if she winds up dead, her blood is on your hands, counselor.”

May 18th, 1986

10:30 am

“Mail’s in!” The voice of your roommate carried through your apartment, pulling your attention from the rhythmic tapping of the antique typewriter you’d picked up from a yard sale. Without a second thought, you sprang from your chair, flinging open your bedroom door, bare feet quick against carpet as you hurried toward the kitchen, where Margie was just walking through the door with a stack of mail.

“Any of it addressed to me?” You asked, a hopeful inflection in your voice.

Margie nodded, tossing the envelopes onto the countertop. “Yeah, you’re popular, got two letters addressed to you.”

Eagerly, you shuffled through the stack before you located the letters she was talking about. One had no definitive markings, so you had no idea where it was from. But the other had a promising logo on the front– The Capital Gazette.

“The Gazette sent something back!” You exclaimed, flipping the envelope over, fingers trembling as you tore into the seal.

Margie gasped, her attention immediately zeroing in on the letter you held. “What did they say?!” She exclaimed, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“Gimme a minute!” You shot back as you rushed to unfold the paper. Your eyes hurriedly scanned the contents, but within moments, your shoulders fell, the thrill of hope fading away to heavy disappointment. The words we regret to inform you were all you needed to read to know what the letter was about.

“I didn’t get the job,” came your glum statement.

“What?” Margie snatched the paper off the counter when you let it drop, reading it for herself. “Oh, come on! You’re the best damn writer I know, how could they turn you down?!”

You shook your head, fighting the tears of disappointment that had gathered on your lash line. “They don’t need me. They’ve got better writers.”

“That’s bullshit!” She huffed, shaking her head, knocking some of her unkempt curls loose from her haphazard ponytail.

“Whatever,” you said, bitterly. “There are other newspapers I can apply to. Other magazines. People are hiring all over the place,” you said, hoping to instill hope in your own heart. But it did little to lift your spirits.

Your roommate sighed softly, reaching out to squeeze your shoulder. “I’m sorry. Really.”

“Thanks, Mar. So am I.”

Her attention shifted to the other, unopened letter on the counter. “What’s that one say?”

With a clueless shrug, you reached for it. All it bore was your address in handwriting that was oddly familiar. Tentatively, you tore into the envelope, brows furrowed as you unfolded the paper and began to read.

And then, “holy shit.”

“What is it?” Margie demanded, curious. When you looked at her, she noticed the expression of worry etched into your brow.

“Camp Mitchell,” you whispered.

At that, the woman’s eyes went wide. “Oh my God.” And then, she waved her hand, motioning you on. “What does it say?”

“They…they want me to come back as a counselor.”

I hope this letter finds you well. I am reaching out to you because I wanted to extend a formal invitation to return to camp as a counselor this summer. I know that things ended on a sour note for all of us involved, but Pete and I desire to breathe new life into this camp. We want to give other campers the chance to experience the wonder and magic of summertime at Camp Mitchell. I understand if you would prefer not to return, but it would be an honor to have you back with us again. Think we can agree to let bygones be bygones? I sure do hope so. Please give me a call at the number below and let me know if you would like to return and reassume your role as a camp counselor. Arrival deadline for counselors is May 24th. Hope to see you soon!

Best wishes,

Penny Mitchell

You stared at the words in absolute shock. They wanted you to come back? After everything that had happened? After your own foolishness had resulted in a girl going missing? You had to admit, it was a bold move on Penny’s part.

The police had heavily investigated you when young Melissa Seresin went missing six years prior. Penny had even blamed you for the girl’s disappearance. It was hard to imagine her wanting you to come anywhere near her camp ever again.

“I need to sit down,” you muttered, tossing the letter back onto the counter and stepping toward the kitchen table, where you hurriedly pulled out one of the chairs and lowered yourself into the seat. Two life-altering events had just taken place in the span of five minutes. You needed to process all of it.

As you tried to regain your wits, Margie scanned over the letter. Then, she sauntered over to you, letting out a sigh as she pulled out the chair across from you and flopped down into it, her legs parted, arms falling down to dangle over the sides. She blew a pesky curl away from her face.

Sympathetic brown eyes landed upon you, and the girl before you smiled softly. Understandingly. “What are you gonna do?”

“I really don’t know,” you said. “Since the job with The Gazette fell through…I might have no choice but to take up the offer to go back to camp. At least I’d be making some kind of income during the summer while I try to figure things out.”

Margie raised a dark brow. “Listen, you do what you think is best for you. But…after everything that happened there, are you sure you’re ready to go back? It’s only been six years.” She was not coming from a place of judgment. She was coming from a place of genuine concern for her friend.

You groaned softly, placing your head in your hands. “I dunno know what to do. Honestly, I’m not ready. But then again it might give me closure. And maybe that’s what Penny is thinking. If she wants to make things right with me after the way things ended…maybe I should go.”

The girl sighed. “Yeah, I guess closure might be something that comes outta this. I just don’t want you to have to go through all that shit again, though.”

Your mouth quirked into a grateful smile. “I know, Mar. I’ve gotta think about it, first. I’m not making any decisions yet.”

“Well, let me know what you decide. Whatever choice you make, I’ll support you.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it.”

As Margie left you at the table to be alone with your thoughts, you considered the weight of the situation. It had all happened so fast, and you felt as if you were caught up in a whirlwind. You only had a week to make a decision, because you had to be at camp on the 24th if you decided to go.

Were you ready to go back, after only six short years? The thought made your stomach turn. Camp Mitchell was a place that held a lot of trauma for you. Your life had fallen apart there.

You had been a first-year counselor in the summer of 1980. A job meant to get you through the summer, before you returned to college in the fall. You remembered being so hopeful and excited about what the summer held.

Camp Mitchell was a camp situated in Michigan’s wilderness. Secluded, surrounded by forests as far as the eye could see. Quaint little wooden cabins. A mess hall. A volleyball pit. A lake. All the other amenities that a typical summer camp would have.

You were put in charge of the junior/senior girls' cabin. Eleventh and twelfth graders. You were slightly intimidated because you were only a few years older than they were. You worried that they would not respect you. But much to your relief, the girls accepted you with open arms.

Throughout the many weeks of camp, you bonded with several different girls who passed through your cabin. But none of them connected as well with you as Melissa Seresin.

July 1980

She was the younger sister of one of the other counselors, Jake Seresin, and she was sweet as could be. She attended camp most of the summer, because her brother worked there, and she didn’t want to remain stuck at home alone while her parents traveled for the summer.

So, she tagged along with Jake. Unlike her brother, she was not cocky. She had a very kindhearted demeanor. A little spoiled, once in a while, due to being the youngest and only girl of rich parents and a doting older brother, but nothing you couldn’t tolerate.

Melissa remained a semi-permanent fixture in your cabin, even as groups of girls from different places — schools, church youth groups, family groups, so on and so forth — passed through all summer.

She knew the camp like the back of her hand, and had spent a few summers there already. You didn’t have to worry about her like you might other campers, because she was well aware of the camp’s procedures.

That was why it was so jarring when, one night in the middle of the summer, she disappeared without a trace.

Late one night, after lights out, the girls in your cabin noticed her absence. Melissa was always in bed come lights out. Not always asleep, but certainly always present. Her neatly made, unoccupied bed raised suspicions, but it was her missing backpack that made the girls think that she had left altogether.

You were not at your post like you were supposed to be. Earlier that night, you had enforced lights out, but soon after had slipped out into the night to meet someone. The girls ranged from fifteen to eighteen years old, so you were not particularly concerned about them getting up to mischief. But in your haste to leave, you neglected to double-check that Melissa was present.

To your utter shame, you had left to meet up with another counselor. The head counselor of the seventh and eighth-grade boys' cabin, Robert Floyd. Bob to his friends. Mr. Bob to the campers. Bobby to you, and only you.

It wasn’t in your nature to sneak around. Neither was it in Bob’s. But you had gotten tangled up in an impassioned summer fling, and you took advantage of every free moment you had to be together.

It was in that time span of you and Bob sneaking off to the lake, that Melissa had gone missing. And when you returned to the cabin an hour later, the girls were all awake, in a slight state of upheaval.

“Where have you been?!” Asked Claudia, one of the senior girls. “I was about to leave and go find Mrs. Mitchell!”

“I needed some air. Why, what’s up?” You cautiously asked.

Claudia motioned to Melissa’s empty bed. “Melissa never made it in for lights out.”

You stared at the bed, its covers untouched and meticulously tucked in, as a hotel bed would be. That was the way she made it every morning. She hadn’t been in that bed since last night. “No, she was here when I left!” You insisted.

“Um, no she wasn’t,” Marissa, another senior, piped up. “Plus, her backpack is gone.”

“Oh, God. Well, that’s my bad for sure. Okay, um, I’m sure she can’t have gotten far. She knows this camp well. Don’t worry, I’ll go take a look around. The rest of you, stay put. Lemme just do a count to make sure nobody else went off with her.”

After a headcount, you came up with fourteen girls. Melissa would make fifteen, so she was the only one missing. Huffing out a sigh, and attempting to keep yourself calm and neutral so the girls wouldn’t panic, you squared your shoulders.

“I’ll go grab another counselor and we’ll take a look. Claudia, you’re the oldest, so you’re in charge. Make sure no one leaves. The rest of you, try to get some sleep. I know you’re a little freaked right now but it’s gonna be okay.” The biggest lie you could have told them. It was, in fact, not going to be okay.

“What should we do if she comes back?” Claudia asked, running a nervous hand through her thick brunette locks. Her dark eyes were fearful, although she was trying to appear brave, just as you were trying to do.

“Just make sure she stays put. I’ll come back and check in a bit, if I don’t find her, and we can touch base then.”

Once you were certain the girls understood the plan, you excused yourself again, stepping out into the humid July night. Crickets sang as you ambled down the path that led to the boys’ cabins, but the pounding of your heart in your ears drowned out the sound.

Your hands shook, unsteady as you held your flashlight before you. Tears blurred your vision, and the heat of embarrassment washed over you. How could you be so stupid? Here you were, off getting laid while one of your girls was nowhere to be found.

You had to look for her, but you weren’t going to do it alone. Hurriedly, you ascended the steps of cabin 13, the first of the boys’ cabins. Light on your feet, so as not to step on any squeaky boards, you crept closer to the door.

Three soft raps, five seconds apart. That was your code. And sure enough, within moments, the door inched open, and there was your Bobby. You had just seen him twenty minutes prior, but he’d already changed into his sleep clothes. An old camp shirt and basketball shorts.

Brow furrowed, he quietly closed the door behind him, stepping out onto the porch. You reached for his hand and guided him off the porch, onto the soft, sandy ground. “What’s goin’ on, Kit?” He asked. The nickname he’d dubbed you for reasons so much more lighthearted than the situation you were facing.

“Melissa’s gone,” you whispered. “The girls said she was never there for lights out.”

“Huh? But you checked on them before you left.”

“I did, but I…I guess I just missed Melissa. I thought she was there, but tonight was so chaotic…God, I can’t believe I could be so stupid” You despaired.

“Shh,” Bob soothed, reaching out to run comforting hands down your arms. “Hey, she probably just went for a walk. I’m not close to her, but I know she likes to go and write in that journal of hers a lot. She’s probably doing that.”

“But that’s not like her. Yeah, she writes in her diary but she’s never done this before. Just…up and left like that. I’m scared, Bobby. I think something might’ve happened to her. And it’s all my fault.”

But he was already shaking his head. “No, don’t even let your mind go there. You’ll drive yourself crazy.” His hands had moved to cup your cheeks. “Tell you what, I’ll help you look for her. If we don’t find her in the next hour, we can tell Penny and get a search party goin’.”

You prayed it wouldn’t come to that, but the sick feeling in your gut told you otherwise. It was your fault, no matter how much Bobby tried to assure you it wasn’t. If Melissa was truly missing, then you were the one to blame. But you didn’t dare speak it into the air. You couldn’t.

“O-okay. We can look together, then.”

And so, the two of you set off on the search for Melissa Seresin. Missy, as her brother liked to call her. You thought of Jake, who was in charge of the senior boys’ cabin. You knew he’d be pissed that you didn’t wake him up immediately and tell him what was going on. He was very protective of his baby sister. But you didn’t want to involve him just yet. You had to try to find her yourself, first.

You set out to search all the places she frequented. Melissa wasn’t as outgoing as her brother. She had a vibrant personality, but also had introverted tendencies. She cherished her alone time, so it wasn’t odd for her to be at the lake, or the horse stables, writing. But she was always visible, and she had never sneaked off before. And certainly not after dark, either.

These woods were terrifying at night. It was easy to get lost in their vastness. Even a girl who knew her way around could get lost. But you prayed that wasn’t the case.

You took to searching her usual hangout spots. The lake, even though you and Bob had been there a half hour ago, and hadn’t seen her. Sure enough, she wasn’t there. Then, you took a peek in the horse stables. The camp had not yet obtained horses to occupy the stables, so it was just an empty building.

Hopeful, you followed Bob inside, holding your breath as he called out, “Melissa? You in here, honey? It’s Bob Floyd.”

But you were met with dead silence, so deafening it brought a shiver down your spine. “Oh, my God. She’s gone. She’s gone forever. This is all my fault!” You panicked, burying your face in your hands.

Bobby, ever the calm and steady one, gently soothed you. “Hey. Hey! Look at me.”

You lifted your tearful eyes to his face, illuminated by the yellow glow of your flashlight.

“It’s gon’ be okay, alright? We’ll find her. We just need to go get Penny and Pete and tell ‘em what happened. We can get a search party organized. We’ll cover more ground that way.”

Lovingly, he took your hand, and together, you made the trek back toward the main part of camp, where the office, mess hall, and staff quarters were. The entire walk, your mind was spiraling with all the possibilities of what could have happened to Melissa.

Something was wrong. You knew it.

And, as it would turn out, you were, unfortunately, right. Melissa Seresin never was found. Not when you and the other counselors organized a search party. Not when the police got involved. Not when Jake and Melissa’s dad, an agent in the FBI, got his team involved. It was as if she’d vanished into thin air. Gone without a trace.

Jake blamed you. But that was okay, because you blamed yourself, too.

Your own negligence was the reason Melissa was gone. And the police grilled you for it. Much to your utter relief, the Seresins chose not to press charges. But you were left to live with the guilt, and that was punishment enough.

And now, here you were. Six years later. Wounds from the past only partially healed. Presented with an opportunity to go back to the place where it all started, and ended. If you did return, would those wounds reopen, and drain the blood from your veins? Or would those wounds finally heal?

And most importantly, did you have the guts to find out?

One Week Later

A ticket reading Harper, Michigan was clutched tightly in your hand, the paper rumpling from your grip. Your suitcase and duffel bag were beside you, as you stood at the bus depot, waiting for the Greyhound to pull up and take you to your destination.

“I still think you’re crazy for this,” Margie spoke from beside you. She’d come to see you off.

You turned to her, taking in her soft smile, despite her disapproval of your choice. “I know,” you replied.

“But I also understand why you want to do this. I really hope it gives you the closure you’re looking for.”

You threw your arms around your friend’s shoulders, hugging her tight. “Thanks, Mar. I’ll try to give you a call at some point in the next few weeks, but the only phone on the property is the one in the main office and I doubt I’ll have time.”

“Don’t worry about it. You can tell me all about it when you get back,” she assured you.

You took one last good look at her, as you knew you wouldn’t see her for a few months, if you fulfilled your commitment to work the entire camp season. The late morning sun shone down from the sky, illuminating her dark curls. Always so unkempt, but the style suited her.

“I’ll be seeing ya,” you finally said.

She nodded, squeezing your hand. “Take care of yourself. And good luck.”

The bus pulled into the stop as you bid your final goodbyes, and then, you handed off your luggage to the attendant to pack away beneath the bus before you climbed the steps into the large vehicle, flashing your ticket to the driver. You took a seat toward the back, settling in and placing your purse beside you, hoping that you would get two of the tackily upholstered seats all to yourself.

As soon as you were settled, you fished your Walkman out of your bag, unraveling the headphones and placing them on your head. As soon as you hit play, the opening sound of the 1975 Eagles album, One of These Nights, filled your ears.

You had purposely chosen this tape to accompany you on your trip, because it held a lot of nostalgic memories for you. Namely, it had been a gift from your Bobby. He’d given it to you in the beginning stages of your romance, after you’d expressed to him that the album was one of your favorites.

“I want you to have it,” he insisted. “A memento that you can have all the time, to remind you of what a great time we had together here.”

And you did have a great time. But the trauma of Melissa’s disappearance had soured the whole thing. All you had left of Bobby was this tape, and a few braided jute bracelets he had made you, from plant fibers. You still wore them on your wrist to this day.

He had tried to keep in contact with you after the camp shut down. He’d sent letters. Called your home phone. But you never answered. As much as you loved him, the reminder of what had happened was too painful, and you let your connection to him fizzle out.

But as you listened to the familiar cords, a rush of memories flooded you, the wave so intense that it took your breath away. Flashes of Bob’s beautiful face. Twinkling eyes, blushing cheeks, a crinkled button nose. The prettiest laughter you’d ever heard.

Large, warm hands exploring. Lips trailing searing kisses down your sternum. Whispers of your name. Groans of pl–

With a gasp, you snatched the headphones off your head, eyes flickering about, as if someone around you could have heard your thoughts. But everyone else was in their own little world, completely oblivious to the salacious flashbacks you had just experienced.

But they made you warm with shame nonetheless.

You’d be foolish not to admit that you’d thought of Bobby over the years. Looked back on your encounters with fondness. With desire. You’d been sexually involved with a few other people since then, but the entire time, you could only think of him. It was why you’d stopped seeing other people. They weren’t your Bobby.

You wondered if he thought about you, too.

More importantly, you wondered if he’d be returning to Camp Mitchell like you were. Were you ready to face him again? The thought made your stomach flutter with butterflies.

You imagined he’d moved on. He had to. Hell, he probably had a wife and kids already. Imagining such a thing sent a queasy rush through you. You still weren’t over him, and you supposed you never would be. He was your first great love.

But he wasn’t the only person you would potentially face from your past.

Your mind went to the other counselors you’d worked with that fateful summer. Specifically, you thought of Jake Seresin. Surely he wouldn’t return to camp, right? Not after his baby sister had disappeared from that very place. It had to be too painful for him.

Little did you know, everyone you had worked with was also traveling from their own respective homes and cities, headed right for Camp Mitchell, just like you were.

The camp was founded by Pete and Penny Mitchell, a husband and wife duo. They had started it with the best of intentions. It was in its fifth successful year when you came on staff. And that just so happened to be the last year it was in operation.

Until now.

What had made the couple decide it was a good idea to reopen the camp, you had no idea. But you were going to give it a chance. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

But several hours later, as the Greyhound pulled into the station in Harper, a tiny town boasting of a general store, a bus depot, and a long, winding road that led up to the camp itself.

As you stepped off the bus, you realized one very important detail: you had no idea how you were even getting up to the camp. Would they send a driver down to retrieve everyone?

Your question was soon answered when you caught sight of a large white poster board propped against a nearby lamppost. CAMP MITCHELL STAFF WAIT HERE. A DRIVER WILL ESCORT YOU TO CAMP.

With a sigh, you rolled your suitcase over to the post, hoping you wouldn’t have to wait long. And you didn’t. About five minutes later, an old teal-colored truck came down the road, its engine obnoxiously loud. On the side, Camp Mitchell was printed in bold letters.

You straightened, smoothing out your travel-rumpled clothes as you grabbed your belongings, prepared to help load everything into the truck. It didn’t even occur to you that you might know the driver. You expected to meet someone entirely new.

As soon as the vehicle pulled to a stop at the curb, you were already moving to the truck bed, hoisting your duffel bag over the side, letting it land with a satisfying thump.

“Here, let me,” a familiar voice spoke up, and in moments, a pair of hands were stealing your suitcase away, heaving it into the bed.

You looked up at the man assisting you, and your blood ran cold. As he turned from putting your luggage in place, he froze, too. Wide blue eyes, no longer hidden beneath a pair of wireframes, locked with your own.

You didn’t speak. You couldn’t.

But he did. In a voice as smooth and soft as butter, yet breathless with surprise. “Kit?”

You squeezed your eyes shut.

Kit. The nickname he’d dubbed you six years ago. It was something so simple. So silly. You’d had an affinity for KitKat bars that summer. They were the only candy bars you liked from the camp store. As a joke, Bobby had said “I should call you KitKat, since you like those things so much.”

And thus, it was shortened to Kit. The name stuck.

Hearing it again made your head spin. You felt woozy on your feet. You swayed a little. A memory flashed in your mind. You and him. Sitting under the old weeping willow. His fingertips wiping chocolate from the corner of your mouth.

It sent a burning ache through your chest.

“Oh my God,” you whispered. “B-Bobby.” The first words you’d spoken to him in six years.

He let out a breath, shaking his head in disbelief. “I didn’t think you’d show.”

You gathered yourself, trying to regain your composure. “I didn’t either,” you whispered.

He offered a tentative smile. “That doesn’t mean I’m not happy to see you, though.”

You lifted your head, brow furrowed in confusion. “You are?”

“Gosh, I am. It’s been too long. I didn’t…didn’t know what happened to you. You never responded to my calls or letters. I thought maybe…” He wouldn’t speak it out loud. He couldn’t.

But you inferred what he meant from his tone. He’d feared that the trauma of what had happened had been too much for you to handle. That you’d succumbed to it all.

“I was working on myself. Trying to heal.”

He nodded. “Understandable.” The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled again. “I really am glad to see you, though. You look well.”

You shrugged. “I’m workin’ on it. And I’m glad to see you too.”

You looked at him, really looked at him, and you realized how much he’d changed, but also stayed the same. He’d filled out. His shoulders were more broad. Muscular. His glasses were gone, presumably replaced with contacts. His hair, once close-cropped, was longer now, curling at the nape of his neck, peeking out from beneath the baseball cap he wore. His jaw was shadowed with stubble.

He looked like a man.

But there was still that boyish glint in his eyes, and hiding behind his smile. Still that same gentleness reserved particularly for you. It was overwhelming, and you could feel your chest beginning to tighten.

“Are you, uh, are you ready to head up there? Or do ya need a minute?” Bobby asked, his voice low. Laced with concern.

You stepped back. “I thought I could do this. Maybe I can’t.”

He let you have your space. “Take all the time you need.”

The rush of memories flooding you was overwhelming. The last time you saw him. The last thing you said to him.

Six Years Ago

The day you left camp, it was raining. Pouring from the sky in sheets, washing everything in a gray hue that made the world look like a watercolor painting.

The sandy ground squashed beneath your feet as you walked toward that old truck, with the camp’s logo on the side. Your luggage was stuffed into the truck bed, wrapped in plastic garbage bags so it wouldn’t get wet in the downpour.

As you climbed into the cab, Bobby came running out of the main office, making a beeline for the truck. He scrambled to wrench open the door and join you inside, breathing labored as he settled into the seat.

For a few moments, it was silent, save for the sound of him moving to start the engine. He fiddled with the heat dial, hoping to reduce the fog on the windows, as the rain had made the air unseasonably chilly that morning.

You both sat there, staring out the windshield, watching the water trickle down the glass. He made no move to put the truck in gear.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured.

“Bobby—”

“No, listen to me. I’m sorry it came to this. It shouldn’t have.”

“What’s done is done. Please, let’s just get out of here. I can’t stay in this place another minute.”

Bobby lingered for a moment, his eyes on you, even as you refused to look at him. You were afraid that if you did, you’d melt into a fit of tears. So, with a soft sigh, he put the truck in drive, and began the journey down the winding dirt road that led out of camp.

The trip was silent. You had nothing left to say, because you’d exhausted all your words these last few weeks. Countless hours of interrogation. Recounting that night over and over again. The conclusion was that a girl was missing, and it likely would not have happened if you’d been doing your job. That was a sense of guilt that you would have to live with for the rest of your life.

Bob pulled into the bus station fifteen minutes later, and you didn’t hesitate as you hurried to slide out of your seat, shoes colliding with wet asphalt. Your chest was tight, eyes blurring with tears as you rushed to grab your luggage.

“Would ya stop for a minute?!” Bobby exclaimed, reaching out to gently grab at your arm.

But you jerked away from him. “Please, don’t…don’t make this harder than it is,” you whispered.

He stared at you, brilliant blue eyes wide, filled with emotion. “So, what, you won’t even say goodbye?”

You feared that saying goodbye would break the dam, and you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself together. You’d fall into his arms, sobbing your heart out, and you would never get on that bus. The man before you sighed, shaking his head before he moved to haul your suitcase out of the truck, placing the plastic-covered bag on the sidewalk.

“That’s it then?” He spoke, his tone grim.

Squaring your shoulders, you nodded, forcing yourself to hold it together. “Goodbye, Robert.”

You turned to leave, and he watched you go, his heart falling to pieces within him. He was losing you, perhaps forever, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He wanted to go after you. Wanted to shake you and tell you to just listen. But you were so entrenched in the trauma of what had happened that he wasn’t sure you could listen to reason at all.

So he let you leave. He watched you climb onto that Greyhound, bound for home, all while he was left there with a wound in his heart, wishing that things could have ended differently. Wishing that your love for each other had been enough to keep you with him.

But it wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough. And that was something he had to live with.

May 1986

Seeing you again was a lot for him. You were just as beautiful as he remembered. Even more so, now, if that was possible. He was also hit with a rush of emotions. He never thought he’d see you again. When he’d received the letter from Penny, inviting him back to camp, he had thought about you, and was sure you wouldn’t come back.

But here you were, standing before him, uncertain and anxious, and he found himself wanting nothing more than to pull you into his arms and comfort you. But he kept his distance, not wanting to invade your personal space. You weren’t his any longer. He could not touch you the way he used to.

You took a moment to pull yourself together, taking a deep breath, counting to ten, trying to ground yourself. Then, you fixed your posture, and nodded in Bob’s direction. “Alright. I think…I think I’m okay. We can, um, we can leave if you’re ready.”

“Okay. Let’s go then.” He opened the passenger door for you, and you climbed into that old truck once again, just as you had six years ago.

Everything had come full circle.

Bobby rounded the truck and settled into the driver’s seat, and soon, he’d started the engine, pulling away from the curb, turning onto the road that led up to camp. Your gut churned with anxiety. You were really doing this. There was no turning back now.

The radio played softly as Bob drove. Some old country song. Hank Williams, you thought. Its grainy, peaceful tune did well to calm your anxiety. Your hands had stopped trembling.

“It’s been a while,” the man beside you murmured. His accent seemed to have gotten thicker, a slight twang to it.

“I know,” you replied, staring down at your lap. Then, “God, I’m so sorry, Bobby. I shouldn’t have gone no contact like I did. I got the letters you sent. And I got every message you left on my answering machine. But I just…I couldn’t bring myself to respond.”

He shook his head. “No, I get it. I should’ve given you more space. I know everything that happened was a lot for you.”

“But that’s no excuse for me to just ignore you. It wasn’t right of me. I’m really sorry.”

“Apology accepted. It’s in the past, Kit. We can leave it there.”

It was that easy. A soothing sense of relief washed over you, warming you from head to toe. That exchange made you feel a little more at ease, and the conversation soon shifted.

“Did everyone come back this year?”

He nodded, humming lowly. “Most of ‘em, surprisingly. Bradley, Natasha, Mickey, Reuben, Javy. Half got here last night. The rest came earlier this mornin’.”

You hesitated, picking at a jagged nail on your right hand. “And…Jake?”

Bob was silent for a moment, his jaw tightening. “Yeah, him too.”

You recoiled in confusion. “But…why would he come back?”

“Penny didn’t say it in her letter, but they’re doing a dedication ceremony for Melissa. There’s a new garden area they installed in the main part of camp. It’s gonna be called Melissa Jo’s Garden. They had a plaque made and everything. Jake agreed to come for the ceremony. I dunno if he’s staying all summer though.”

“Oh.” It felt like all the oxygen had been sucked from your lungs. You had not left things on a good note with Jake. He harbored deep resentment toward you for neglecting to watch over your cabin. He blamed you for his sister’s disappearance.

“He seems to be handling everything alright. He might actually be okay with seeing you again.”

But you weren’t so sure. There was that nervousness again, roiling in your gut. Did you have the nerve to face him? And how would he react? You doubted he’d welcome you back with open arms.

You’d soon find out, because just up ahead, the Camp Mitchell sign could be seen. Large, deep green in color, with white lettering. So familiar, yet so foreign all at once.

You couldn’t believe you were back. What if this turned out to be the most foolish decision you’d ever made?

You didn’t have time to consider that, because Bobby was pulling into the common area in no time, and killing the engine. It was time to face the past you’d been running like hell to get away from.

As Bob got out to gather your luggage, you pushed the old, squeaky passenger door open and let your feet land in the soft sand.

The scent of pine and honeysuckle filled your nose. It sent an intense wave of nostalgia through you. So much had changed, and yet nothing had, all at the same time.

The layout was still the same. Clinic. Main office. Mess hall. Common area. But in the middle of the main entrance was a small garden. Stone paths weaved throughout. Spindly bushes, multicolored flowers, and other plants decorated the soil. Right in the middle of the garden was what appeared to be a large stone, covered with a tarp. You assumed the plaque for Melissa was hidden beneath the tarp.

And then, a voice caught your attention. You looked up to find Penny Mitchell approaching you. Blue cotton shorts, accessorized with a belt. A blue and white striped t-shirt tucked into them. A pair of hiking boots were on her feet. Practical, that one was. Always ready for an outdoor excursion at a moment’s notice.

You braced yourself, unsure of how she would behave toward you. She had rightfully held you responsible for Melissa’s disappearance, and you weren’t sure if she’d moved on from that. But, if she’d invited you back, she had to have at least found it in her heart to forgive you. You hoped so, anyway.

“Welcome!” She said, sweeping her arms out in greeting. “I’m glad you could make it!”

“Oh, um, thanks. Me…me too,” you said, unsure of the proper response.

Bobby sidled up beside you. You didn’t feel so alone with him there.

“Did Bob fill you in on everything on the drive up?”

“Kinda, yeah,” came your answer.

Penny nodded. “Once everyone is settled, Pete and I will take you on a tour. We’ve made a lot of changes these last few months.” Then she looked at Bob. “Would you show her to her cabin? We’ll put her in cabin five.”

“Sure thing,” he replied.

“We’ll have a little orientation meeting after dinner. There’s a whole itinerary we have to go over. I put a schedule in your cabin. Any questions?”

Yeah, lots. You stared at her for a moment. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you invite me back? After everything that happened?”

She regarded you silently, her expression neutral. Then, she said, “Because I believe in second chances. Or, rather, my husband does. He wanted to bring all of you back and start with a clean slate. Whether or not you’ve earned that second chance remains to be seen. But I hope you have.” Her words sent a painful ache through your chest. You didn’t blame her for being wary of you, but it still hurt.

As she excused herself, you were once again left alone with Bobby. “Y’alright?” He gently asked, cadence low and comforting.

You processed his words for a moment. “Yeah…yeah. I’m okay.”

“You need a minute?”

“No. Let’s just get my stuff to my cabin.”

With a single nod, he grabbed your suitcase and duffel bag, moving to walk up the hill. You followed closely behind, letting the rush of memories ebb through you. The cabins were small, build from dark wood, with green paint detailing the shutters and doors. They looked like they’d received fresh coats of paint, but otherwise, everything was still the same.

It didn’t take long to reach cabin five. Bob carried your things inside, and you slowly followed, your heart quickening as you stepped through the door. The scent of cedar and pine was familiar and painful all at once.

This wasn’t the cabin you’d been in when you were here last. You were in cabin two then, just one over from this one. Even so, it looked so eerily similar that for a moment, you were transported back to the summer of 1980.

Funnily enough, Bob had been the one to show you to your cabin for the first time that year, too.

“You’ve still got ‘em.”

Your eyes flickered to him, and your brow furrowed. “Huh?”

“The bracelets I made you.”

Oh. You looked down, eyeing your wrist, where the two braided jute bracelets remained, from when he’d made them for you that year. Dyed faintly with berry juice. Fraying at the edges, but still intact. “Um, yeah…I do. Guess I just could never bring myself to take them off.”

He stepped forward, reaching his hand out. You let him gingerly take your wrist into his palm. His fingers brushed against the braided rope, and his touch sent goosebumps across your skin. “After all these years,” he whispered, afraid that if he spoke any louder, his voice would fail him.

All at once, you were floored with an intense wave of emotion, so powerful it nearly drove you to your knees. It hit you out of nowhere, like a gut punch. “Bobby,” you whimpered.

Shocking blue flickered to meet your wide-eyed gaze, and his face crumpled, bottom lip quivering. “Kit.”

You weren’t sure who moved first, but you were in each other’s arms then, holding on tightly, as if the other would float away if you loosened your grip. The sound of soft sobs reached your ears, and you realized that they were coming from you.

“I never should have walked away from you. Never, ever!” You cried against his chest. “I’m sorry!”

“No, shhh,” he soothed, cradling your head against him. “Don’t do this to yourself. It’s okay, you’re forgiven.”

You pulled back to look at him, shaking your head. “It’s not okay!”

Two large hands came up to hold your face. “It hurt me, alright? I’ll admit that. Broke my heart in two. But I never held it against you, because…because I knew everything you’d been through. I know that summer was the worst time of your life. It made sense to me if you didn’t want to speak to me ever again. I would’ve just been a reminder of everything that happened.”

“But I did want to talk to you, Bobby. I did. I just couldn’t get past the goddamn trauma.”

He shook his head, his face kind. “I know. But we’re here now, together. That’s gotta count for something.” Maybe we’ve been given a second chance, he wanted to say, but he didn’t want to move too fast. He was well aware that your romance might never be rekindled. However, he was content to just remain friends with you if it meant that you would be in his life again.

You went quiet, letting your head fall against his chest again. You couldn’t believe you were here, standing in the middle of a cabin at the place where you had lost everything. It felt so surreal. It was as if a million years had passed since you saw him here last, and yet, it also felt like no time had passed at all.

There was so much that needed to be discussed. But there was no hurry. For now, you were just relieved to know that you had not burned a bridge with your first great love. If nothing else went right for you this summer, he was the one good thing that would come out of it.

“I’m glad…I’m glad it was you who picked me up at the station,” you admitted.

Bobby smiled softly. “So am I.” He searched your face, as if memorizing it. “I really thought I wouldn’t ever see you again.”

You hummed in agreement. “Me too. But I guess fate wanted us to meet again.”

“She’s a tricky one, that Fate.”

“Don’t I know it.”

Finally, he parted from you, though the absence of his body made yours feel cold. He didn’t want to overstep. “Well…I guess I’ll let you get settled.” He moved toward the door, but your voice gave him pause.

“Actually, wait for me. I don’t want to face everyone alone. I’d prefer it if we walked together.” Bobby might be the only person in this damn place to accept you again. You wanted to cling to that, and the security it provided.

He gave a single nod. “Alright. You want any help getting settled, then?”

Together, you set about getting everything situated. Bob went around and checked the cabin for spiders, because he knew you weren’t a fan of the little (and sometimes big) guys. He found one, which he very gently coaxed into his hand (murmuring “c’mon, little buddy” as he did) and released it outside.

Once you had your stuff organized, and did a quick clean sweep of the cabin, you were ready to join everyone else. There was a paper posted on the wall just beside the door, detailing the itinerary for counselors and other camp staff. In about fifteen minutes, dinner would be served in the mess hall.

Directly following that, there would be an orientation meeting in the meeting hall, a place where staff meetings usually took place. Assemblies with the campers were also held there. It ws in that hall that you would be forced to face people from your past. Namely, you’d have to face Jake again.

The thought made your stomach churn, and your hands tremble. But then, Bob’s gentle presence brought you back to the presence, and your racing heart calmed down a little.

He offered you a kind smile. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” you said with a nod.

Together, you walked out of that cabin and into the camp grounds, falling into silence as your steps synced up. There were so many things Bobby wanted to say, but he didn’t want to inundate you with questions and confessions, so he left it. He knew you had to be terribly overwhelmed as it was. He didn’t want to be the cause of more stress.

So, silence it was, all the way until you got to the mess hall. He stopped to open the door for you, and you hesitated.

“It’s okay,” he assured you. “I’ll be right here with you the whole time.”

You liked the sound of that.

So, with a deep breath and squared shoulders, you stepped through that door, entering the room. Dark wood stretched out before you. The mess hall was a similar design to the cabins, just much bigger. High ceilings with unfinished wooden beams. Wooden floors and walls. Dark green paint detailing. Windows on each wall to let in natural light. A large stone fireplace in the middle of the room.

It was very cozy, but as your gaze shifted to the table of faces to your left, you felt a chill run over you. Here goes nothing.

You appraoched the table, taking in each person seated there. At the head of the table was Pete Mitchell, Penny’s husband. He lifted his head and offered a smile, but you couldn’t quite place the look in his eyes. Beside him, Penny glanced up at you.

Then, to her right, you saw Natasha Trace. Another person you had once had a connection with. She was good friends with Bobby before you met him. The two of them had gone to school, and eventually college, together. Beside her was a woman you’d never seen before, but judging by the way Natasha held her hand, you inferred that they were in a relationship. It was no surprise to you. Nat had always made it clear that she only had eyes for women.

Then, on the other side of the woman was Mickey Garcia, another one of Bob’s good friends. His best friend, in fact. Mickey offered you a smile, and you took that as acceptance of you. He always had been rooting for you, all those summers ago.

Beside Mickey was Javy Machado. You couldn’t get a read on him. His face bore a neutral expression as he regarded you. Back then, he’d been best friends with Jake, and had therefore been completely on his side. You assumed the sentiment was still the same.

Then, of course, there was Bradley Bradshaw. He was Pete and Penny’s surrogate son, in a way. After Bradley’s mother died when he was a teenager, Pete had brought him on to learn how to run the camp. One day, he would take charge of the place, after the husband and wife duo retired.

All of them were seated around that table, but you noticed that one was missing. You had no idea where Jake was. Maybe he wasn’t joining everyone for dinner. Maybe he’d left. A part of you hoped so.

“Wanna sit here?” Bobby asked, motioning to two seats next to Bradley.

You nodded, and he pulled out your chair for you. Once you were seated, he took his own seat beside you, between Bradley and you. The other man leaned over the table, and you got a look at his face for the first time in six years. He’d lost his baby face, and was now sporting a defined jaw. A neatly kept mustache shadowed his upper lip. You thought it suited him. “Good to see you again,” he said.

Bradley’s statement seemed to break the ice, and a few murmurs of greeting echoed around the table. Even still, an air of awkwardness hovered over the group. You wanted to crawl out of your own skin. But you were here now, and there was no turning back.

The food was set up around the table like a regular family dinner. Simple foods. Sandwiches. Veggies and dip. Chips. You grabbed a sandwich, but you found your stomach in knots, and the thought of eating anything nauseated you.

“Well, Penny, you did it. Got us all to come back. Good on you,” Natasha spoke up.

Penny shrugged. “Pete and I have been talking about it for a while. I know the way things ended back in ‘80 was…bad, to say the least. But we really feel that this place has potential, and we could breathe new life into it.”

“What do the Seresins think about that?” Javy asked, his brow raised.

“We think it’s an okay idea,” a voice spoke up from across the room.

The group looked up all at once to see the man stepping through the door. You tensed, taking in a breath. Your heart rate picked up, thudding against your chest as the chill of anxiety crawled along your spine.

“Really?” Natasha piped up.

Jake nodded as he approached the group. “Yeah. Seeing as how Penny wants to dedicate this place to Missy. We all remember how much she loved it here. I firmly believe she’d want it to keep going.”

Penny smiled. “I’m glad we’re on the same page, Jake.”

He stopped at the empty end of the table, hands coming up to rest upon the back of the chair there. “But I do have one question.”

“What’s that?” The woman asked.

Jake smiled, but you could tell is wasn’t a real smile. In fact, when you looked at his eyes, the pale green was filled with snake’s venom. “What the fuck is she doing here?” He jabbed his finger in your direction, and you froze, your eyes growing wide.

That was more like the reaction you’d been expecting.

Penny faltered, her smile fading. Beside you, you felt Bob stiffen. But you didn’t dare pull your eyes away from Jake’s accusatory glare.

“I-I just thought that–”

“I don’t care. Look, Penny; I really appreciate you putting this all together, but in what world did you think it was okay to invite the person who had a hand in my sister’s disappearance?”

“She isn’t the one who wanted to invite her. I am.” Pete stood from his seat, his eyes narrow. “I thought that she deserved a second chance. And I wanted you to find it in yourself to allow her that chance.”

“Oh, really? What, is she gonna bring my sister back? Hm?” Jake’s gaze was so cold. You wished the ground would swallow you up. How on earth could you have thought this was a good idea?

“No, but–”

“If she stays, I’m refusing the dedication. She’s the reason I lost Missy. She doesn’t get to just stand there and pretend she’s sorry, while my parents and I are still grieving.”

Your eyes had blurred with tears, and your chest was tight. You should never have come.

But then, “leave ‘er alone, Jake.” Bobby stood up, facing the other man.

“Oh, you coming to her rescue is rich, Baby on Board. Wasn’t it your dick she was sucking when my kid sister went missing?”

The room went dead silent.

Bob took a breath. Then two. “Don’t you dare talk about her like that. She’s here, whether you like it or not. And she deserves another chance, just as much as anybody.”

“No, you know what? You’re right. This was a mistake. I should never have come,” you spoke up, rising from your chair.

But Bobby grabbed your arm. “No. Don’t let him drive you away.” His eyes were pleading.

You pulled away from his grasp, sadly shaking your head.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. Then you turned to Jake. “I wish I could bring your sister back. But I can’t. You need to know that I cared about her. And I should have been more thorough when I did bed check that night. I regret it every day, and I’ve lived with that guilt for the last six years. But my guilt is nothing compared to the loss you and your parents have had to endure. And for that, I’m so fucking sorry. I’ll leave, if that’s what you’d prefer. I never should have come in the first place.”

With that, you ducked your head, pushing your chair out of the way as you scrambled toward the exit. You could hear Bob calling your name, but you ignored him, your legs carrying you quickly toward the door. Your vision had tunneled, and your chest was heavy. You had to get out of that building. You felt like you were suffocating. Like someone had pulled a plastic bag over your face.

You threw your arms out in front of you and shoved the door open, letting out a great heaving sob as you stumbled down the front steps. You made it a few feet from the stairs before you leaned forward, hands braced on your knees as you fell apart.

“Oh, God!” You cried. You heard footsteps quickly approaching. It made you whirl around. “Just leave me the fuck alone!” Came your wail.

“No! I don’t care what he says, you deserve to be here!”

It was Bob, you realized.

“What do you want me to do, then?! He doesn’t want me here, Bob! And I never should’ve come. So just…just pull the truck around and I’ll get my luggage and get the fuck out of here.”

“No.”

“Either you take me back to the station, or I’ll get someone else to do it!”

“No other buses are running until tomorrow morning, so you can’t leave anyway! You’re stuck here for the night.”

“Goddammit!” You yelled. “I just want to leave!”

He grabbed you by the shoulders. “You’re not listening to me! I can’t handle watching you walk away from me again. I lost you once, and I’ll be damned if I let Jake Seresin be the reason I lose you again!”

And then, silence.

“Oh.”

He released your shoulders suddenly, his face stricken. “I-I’m sorry. I’m coming on way too strong. This is probably super overwhelming for you and I’m just making it worse.”

“No. No, you…you aren’t.” A pause. And then, “I don’t want to walk away from you again, either.”

“If you want to leave, then I’ll take you to the station tomorrow morning. But I just want you to try and stay. I know Jake doesn’t want you here, but I’m sure Pete can convince him to at least give you a chance.”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

However, back inside the mess hall, a discussion was happening. “I’m sorry, Jake. I know we should have told you we invited her back. I take full responsibility for that oversight. But your parents…they knew she was coming. We checked with them beforehand. Your mom is of the belief that we should give her another chance.”

“What?” Jake asked, incredulous.

“Yeah. So, I know it’s hard for you, but if your mom is willing to forgive, then I’m going to respect that, and give this girl a chance. You know she’s lived with this guilt for so long. I think that’s punishment enough.”

The blonde sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t like it. If it was up to me, she’d be on the next Greyhound outta here. But if my mom wants her here…” He looked out the window, eyeing you and Bob as you spoke to each other. “It boggles my damn mind, but I’ll respect my mom’s wishes. That doesn’t mean I forgive her, though. I don’t think I ever will. But you go ahead and keep her on staff. Something tells me it ain’t gonna end well, but what do I know?”

And with that, Jake stalked off in a huff.

He swung the screen door open, and your head shot up, your eyes widening as you saw him coming down the steps. Bobby took a protective step toward you.

“You can stay,” Jake said as he walked past. “But only because my mom is the one who wanted you here.” Then he leaned in close. Well, as close as Bob would allow him to get. “But just know this. If you fuck up in any way, shape, or form, I’ll ship you back home myself. We clear?”

“Y-yes,” you responded with a curt nod.

“Good.”

And with that, Jake Seresin walked away.

You let out an unsteady breath, your shoulders slumping. Bobby looked at you, his gaze questioning. “What are you gonna do?”

You shook your head. “I…I don’t…”

“You don’t need to decide now. Just sleep on it. Make your decision with a fresh mind, alright?”

“Yeah,” came your whispered reply. “Yeah, that’s–that’s what I’ll do.”

He took his baseball cap off, running his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry. I know this is a lot for you. Do ya wanna just turn in early? I’m sure they’d understand if you skipped orientation.”

You considered his words, and finally, you shook your head. “No. I’ll, uh, I’ll try to go, and see how I do. But I think I’m going to just go and lay down for a while until then.”

“Want me to walk you back?”

“I’d like that.”

With a soft smile and a nod, Bobby began to guide you back toward the cabins. Your hands were shaking, and your head was spinning. It felt like someone had shoved their hands into your chest and taken hold of your lungs, squeezing them with all their might.

It was a painfully uncomfortable feeling, and you hoped that it would pass soon. But as long as you were here, in this place that held so many memories, it would probably remain a permanent fixture in your body. The only thing that soothed it was Bobby’s presence.

Even after all these years, and after the sour note you’d left him on, being near him still felt so comforting and peaceful. It was an odd, but welcome, sensation. You hadn’t expected it to be this way. When you thought of seeing him again, you imagined it would be painfully awkward, or that maybe he would refuse to speak to you.

But this was Robert Floyd you were talking about. He didn’t hold grudges. And if he did, then he’d been deeply hurt beyond repair. It was a relief to know that things were not beyond mending between you. At the moment, you were too overwhelmed and emotional to even consider what it might mean for you in the future. You were just grateful that he was near you again.

So much had changed. When you’d left him, he’d been more gangly. Twenty-two years old. Large wireframes perched atop his nose. All round cheeks and softer features. Now, he seemed a little taller. Or maybe, his slight bulk made him appear so. Gone were those gangly limbs, replaced with muscle that had been defined by physical labor.

His hands, though. His hands had stayed the same. They’d always been big, but he’d grown into them. They suited him now. Strong and steady. Farmer’s hands.

“You want me to come get you when it’s time for orientation?” The low cadence of his voice jarred you from your daydream.

“If you would? I forgot to pack my battery alarm clock, so have no way of keeping time.”

He nodded. “Sure. I can get ya one of those clocks. I actually have two, you can have one of mine.”

“You sure?”

“Yep, I don’t need two anyway. I’ll bring it to you later tonight.”

You shot him a grateful smile. “Thanks. I really appreciate it.”

Together, you stopped just outside your cabin, lingering at the foot of the stairs. Bob’s face was gentle, his eyes kind. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here. I know it’s a for you lot to be back here. And Jake didn’t help anythin’ by reacting the way he did. But if no one else is happy to see you, I want you to know that I am. I’ll respect whatever decision you make, but I really do hope you’ll stay.”

You considered his words, mulling them over in your mind. He didn’t expect you to decide at that very moment, and you knew your brain was too overworked to make that decision then as it was. So, the best you could do was nod your head. “I’ll see you in a bit, Bobby.”

He hummed, mouth quirking into a smile. “See you in a bit, Kit.”

You watched him walk away, his footsteps sure, his stance confident. He had a swagger to him that he didn’t have six years ago. It suited him well.

With a soft sigh, you finally turned and made your way into the cabin. As soon as the screen slammed behind you, you surged forward, collapsing into your bed, which was right near the door. Immediately, you buried your face in the pillow, and everything you’d been keeping inside came spilling out of you in bitter waves.

What had you gotten yourself into?

to be continued...

taglist (tagging those who showed interest; if you want to be added let me know)

@withahappyrefrain @rhettabbotts @ryebecca @up-thereinthesky @oldfangirl30 @attapullman @sebsxphia @delopsia @damrlova @fairyheart @hangmanapologist @laracrofted @callsignspark @bobfloydsbabe @milesmillergf @bradshawsbitch @bradshawsbaby @floydsmuse @senawashere @creatchie8

#bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fanfiction #bob floyd smut #bob floyd angst #story: six summers

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andvys · 1 year

Text

We'll burn the sky | part six

Warnings: a lot of angst, mentions of suicide (reader's dad's death), mentions of drug abuse, absent parents, mentions of cheating

Pairings: Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Rockstar!fem!reader | Eddie Munson x Chrissy Cunningham

Summary: after finding out the truth about Eddie, you struggle with your feelings and your trust in him.

Words count: 7.6k

@littledemondani thank you for the idea with the *cough* kiss *cough*

Series masterlist

When you were 7 years old, you watched your mother pack your clothes into the pink bag your dad gave you for your birthday. You were crying, holding your favorite plushie against your chest as you stared at her.

“Please mom, I don’t want to go,” you said to her, “I wanna stay with you.”

Your mother didn’t listen and if she did, she didn’t care. She threw your clothes and your shoes in there, not even bothering to fold your shirts or your pants.

“I can’t do this anymore.” Is all she said to you, letting the tears fall down her pretty face, “he can take better care of you.”

“I don’t want to live with Dad, he’s never home.”

Your words meant nothing to her. She continued to pack your clothes until they were all stuffed in the bag. She grabbed your hand and led you to her car. She dropped you off at your Dad’s house. She gave you one last hug and a goodbye kiss on your forehead before she left you standing in the rain, crying for her not to go, not caring that he wouldn’t be home until later that night.

That was the last time you had seen her. Sometimes she would call or send you a letter but that’s all. She never gave you an explanation as to why she left you.

You weren’t shocked, even at the age of 7, you could tell that she struggled with you in her life, you saw it coming.

At the age of 12, you watched your dad being hospitalized after a concert. He collapsed on stage after performing the last song of the night. You watched him sing from backstage and when you saw him passing out, you didn’t even hesitate to run towards him, brushing Sam’s hands off of you when he tried to pull you away from your dad.

They told you that he was dehydrated and tired and that is why he had passed out but you weren’t clueless. Even then, you already knew what he did when he locked himself in the bathrooms and came out wiping his nose.

You weren’t shocked about what happened that night.

He was an amazing dad and when you moved in with him, he did everything to make you happy. He spent as much time with you as he could but he was a suffering person and you knew that it was only a matter of time before he left you too.

At the age of 15, you watched your best friend choosing others over you. She began to pull away from you more and more, every day. Always making excuses to cancel plans with you. She’d tell you she was sick but then you’d see her making plans with other people, with girls that didn’t like you.

That didn’t shock you either.

At the age of 17, your life changed forever.

On Christmas Eve, you came home after visiting Sam and his family. You brought the cookies that his kids made, the ones that your dad loved so much. You placed them on the counter before you went looking for him, thinking that you would find him in his office.

You could still smell his cologne and the pine from the christmas tree that stood in the large living room whenever you thought of that day.

A dreadful feeling settled in your stomach when you didn’t hear his voice or the sound of his guitar playing.

He wasn’t in his office, he wasn’t in his bedroom either and deep down you already knew what you would find. You called out to him with a shaky voice as you neared the open bathroom door. You opened it fully and the sight in front of you made you want to throw up.

Your dad was laying on the bathroom floor, needle still sticking inside his skin, his eyes were closed, he was already gone.

You ran towards him and dropped to your knees, you pulled his dead body into your lap and cried for him to wake up even though you knew that he would never wake up again, he would never open his eyes again, he would never come back again.

What you found that night didn't shock you either, you saw it coming. He had been dead for a long time already, what was left was only an empty shell.

But nothing, absolutely nothing could have prepared you for this moment.

You stand frozen in place, your heart is racing in your chest, you feel the emptiness in your stomach starting to eat at you. The coil in your throat makes you struggle to breath.

Her lips are moving but you can’t hear what she is saying.

You blink, furrowing your brows as you tear your eyes away from her and look into those brown eyes that you have found home in. He is staring at you, looking into your eyes with shock, sadness, panic, regret and guilt, the guilt that has been there so many times, the guilt that you couldn’t explain until now.

And even though she is there and other's are rushing past you, no one else exists in that moment but the two of you as you stare into each other's eyes.

You are confused and lost. There is no other emotions yet, just endless confusion.

Your eyes trail down to her hand that is resting on his chest, her body is pressed against his, she is smiling as she looks up at him, not realizing that he isn’t even listening to a word she is saying.

Your breath gets caught in your throat when you notice that his hand is laying on the small of her back. The hand that had been holding yours a few moments ago. Your eyes find his again and you can’t even hide the shock on your face.

You don’t need words, you don’t need an explanation, you don't need to ask questions to find out what this is.

She is his. He is hers. They are together.

How long have they been together? How long has he been keeping this from you?

Chrissy.

His voice calling her name echoes in your mind.

Chrissy. Chrissy. Chrissy.

You have heard that name before.

He feels sick, he feels like crying, he feels like taking your hand in his and running away, not even caring about the girl in his arms, that one he hasn’t thought about once today.

His heart aches in his chest when he sees the look on your face.

He pleads with his eyes, he blinks as he feels the tears welling up in his eyes.

‘What have I done?’ he thinks to himself.

“Eddie…. Eddie!”

Chrissy’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts, he tears his eyes away from you and looks down at her. Blinking the tears away, he tries to give her a smile but he can’t, he only looks at her in confusion. Why is she here?

She smiles at him and snuggles into his chest, “aren’t you happy to see me?”

He doesn’t answer her, he looks up at you but you are gone. Panicked, he starts looking around for you but he can’t see you anywhere.

He closes his eyes, a shaky sigh falls from his lips.

You let your feet carry you towards the others, who are waiting to go on stage. None of them notice the confused and shocked look on your face. Gareth and Jeff are joking around, Johnny occupies himself with his guitar.

The opening act is still playing but you can barely hear anything, you feel as though you are underwater, hearing the faint voices coming from somewhere on the surface.

Your chest is rising up and down heavily.

You don’t understand.

“You okay, kid?” Rob asks, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You flinch and he raises his hands up in surrender, “whoa, it’s just me, y/n,” he mumbles. The boys turn around to look at you after hearing his words. Jeff furrows his brows when he sees the lost and confused look on your face.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asks, taking a step towards you, “did something happen?”

The confused look stays in your eyes as you stare at him. Does he know?

“Where’s Eddie?” Gareth asks, looking at you in concern.

Rob places his drink on the equipment cart before he takes a step forward, “kid, are you okay? You’re about to go on stage. Do you feel sick or nauseous, do you need something–”

“Oh shit,” Jeff mumbles as he catches the sight of Eddie, holding Chrissy’s hand as he walks towards you.

“Fuck,” Gareth sighs with an unreadable look on his face.

Your stomach drops. Closing your eyes, you let out a laugh of disbelief. They all know.

The only clueless one is your manager, he looks around with confusion written all over his face.

Jeff mumbles your name as he tries to place his hand on your shoulder but you slap it away with an angry sigh.

“Hi, guys.”

You hear her voice and it makes your heart ache even more.

“Hi.. Chrissy.”

You feel so much hurt and so much anger but you refuse to let them see it right now, you refuse to let these feelings take control of you right now.

‘Pull yourself together,’ you think to yourself. Taking a deep breath, you plaster a smile on your face and turn around to look at the girl, you have yet to speak to.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you can see Eddie shifting uncomfortably.

Her eyes meet yours and a smile appears on her face– a smile, you can tell, is not genuine in any way. You can see the distaste in her eyes, the jealousy, the coldness, “hi, I’m Chrissy. I’m Eddie’s girlfriend.”

Girlfriend. You want to throw up.

“Girlfriend?” you ask with a smile on your face, “Eddie never told me he has one and he usually tells me everything, right Eddie?” you say without looking at him.

She blinks, squinting her eyes, her lips twitch, “I-I’m sure he told you, after all he wrote all those songs about me,” she says, tilting her head as she looks you up and down. You can see the judgmental look in her eyes.

He wrote the songs about her? You want to scoff, you want to laugh, you want to scream and cry. He wrote the songs before he came to Los Angeles, he wrote the songs when he was still in Hawkins. All this time, he had been with her already, when he met you, he had already been with her, when he touched you he was with her, when he kissed you he was with her, when he said all those things to you, he was with her.

“What songs?” you laugh, shaking your head. You watch the anger appearing in her eyes, her lips part and she’s about to say something when you cut her off.

“Oh, you mean the songs that were shit? They didn’t even make it on the album, honey.”

Eddie can’t even be hurt by your words, the songs were shit but he feels surprised. He stares at you with a slightly shocked look in his eyes, just a few minutes ago, you stood there with a heartbroken look in your eyes and now there was nothing but a coldness in them, he has never seen before and it scares him.

Rob raises his brows, he places his hands on his hips and looks around with wide eyes.

Gareth clears his throat, he looks down and starts playing with his drumsticks.

“Didn’t you listen to the album?” you ask.

She shifts uncomfortably, playing with the hem of her skirt as she looks up at her boyfriend. He looks back at her and you look down at his hand, she is holding it but his hand is limp in her touch.

“It’s not my style,” Chrissy mumbles, giving you an icy glare.

"But he wrote those songs about you," you tilt your head, pouting slightly.

She hates you, you can tell that she does. You can see it in her eyes.

She only shrugs in response.

You nod, “well, I hope it won’t be too wild for you tonight,” you mumble as you give her one last look before you turn away from her and Eddie. The boys are all avoiding looking into your eyes and you scoff at them.

Reaching for the glass of whiskey that Rob placed on the table.

“Wait–” Rob mumbles but quickly stops when he sees the anger in your eyes, waving his hand, he turns away from you.

Eddie watches with a bad feeling in his chest.

You slam the now empty glass back on the table and take a look at him, “better get your good luck kiss, Munson,” you mutter as you reach for the red microphone on the table.

His lips part, he wants to say something but no words come out.

The soft look in your eyes long gone, all there is now is the angry, betrayed and cold look in your eyes and it breaks his heart. He wants to take your hand, he wants to leave this place, he wants to explain everything, he wants to pull you into his arms, he wants to kiss you again and beg you to go back to the way things were.

Everyone notices the shift of energy. Everyone notices the anger and the intensity in your voice.

You don’t change anything about your performance with Eddie, you let him touch you the way he always does, you let him pull you closer, you let him touch your waist, you let him lean his forehead against yours, you let him sing in your microphone with you.

You can feel his fear, his regret, his guilt.

He can feel your anger, your pain and the stiffness in your body when he lays his hands on your body.

The anger and the rage is so clear in your voice and in some weird way, it makes you even better.

Usually, you engage with the crowd a lot more but tonight, all you see is Eddie. You look into his eyes with so much anger, it makes him nervous.

The pain doesn’t hit you until the last song- the one that you have spend so much time working on with him. The realization that floods through you makes your heart hurt the way it never has before. Everything begins to make sense. Why he never told you, why they boys never told you.

He used you, in every way possible and the realization makes you feel sick.

You let him take your hand as you say your goodbye’s and you let him keep holding your hand when you exit the stage. You see Rob staring at you in concern and you see Chrissy staring at yours and Eddie’s hands with anger in her eyes and it only makes you even more sick.

He has a girlfriend, he had one all this time.

You rip your hand out of his.

“What was that?” Gareth asks you in excitement, blind to the angry tears in your eyes, “you were fucking fantastic out there tonight!”

You huff in anger as you rush past all of them, ignoring his words, or Jeff’s or Rob’s as they all call out to you.

Eddie follows you with his eyes, fear and worry lingering in his eyes.

Chrissy walks towards him with a smile on her face, “hey–”

“Hold on,” Eddie mumbles, not even looking at her, “I’ll be right back,” he says before he runs after you.

“Eddie!” Chrissy yells in disbelief.

You slam the door shut and walk further into the room. Breathing heavily, you put your hands on your head. Your bottom lip quivers and your vision blurs, your eyes fall on the couch you kissed Eddie on, just a few hours ago.

“I’m crazy about you.”

“There’s no other like you.”

“I fucking adore you.”

Lies. All lies.

You felt pain before, you felt heartbreak before but not like this.

You feel the tears welling up in your eyes but you refuse to cry. You scoff in disbelief and shake your head angrily.

“Sweetheart.”

You freeze at the sound of his voice. You hear him closing the door. You don’t even bother to blink the tears away before you turn around to look at him. His bangs cling to his sweaty forehead, his hands are shaky, his eyes are filled with regret.

For a moment, neither of you say anything. You just stare at each other. He sees the pain in your eyes, the pain that he has caused.

He walks towards you slowly, you don’t move, you just blink as you stare at him in confusion and disbelief.

He stops in front of you, “I can explain.”

You frown at his words, your bottom lip quivers, a fresh wave of tears well up in your eyes as you stare into the eyes that once brought you so much comfort.

Explain? Is he serious? What is there to explain?

You don’t even notice that your tears have started to fall. He cups your cheek and wipes them away.

His touch brings you nothing but pain.

You push him away from you, “don’t fucking touch me.”

Hurt flickers in his eyes, “sweetheart–”

“I’m not your sweetheart!”

“Please,” he whispers, “don’t do this.”

“Do what?” you scoff, shaking your head.

“Don’t push me away,” he whispers.

His eyes are glassy, filled with nothing but guilt and pain.

“What the fuck, Eddie?” you mumble as place your palms against his chest, pushing him further away from you and he lets you, he doesn’t fight it, he just closes his eyes as you keep pushing him back until he is pressed against the same door, that he pushed you against when he kissed you, “what the fuck?”

“You have a fucking girlfriend? What the hell is wrong with you?”

He blinks, looking away for a moment, he sniffles, bringing his hand up to his face to wipe his tears away.

“Why are you crying?” you ask angrily, “why are you fucking crying? You lied to me all this fucking time! You lied about your fucking feelings, you lied about the shit you said to me earlier!”

He shakes his head.

“I never lied to you about the things that I said. I meant them,” he says as he cups your cheeks again, “I meant them.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you whisper, staring at him in confusion.

He shrugs.

"How long have you been with her, huh?"

He looks down, brown eyes flashing with guilt, "two years," he whispers.

You laugh in disbelief, "two years and you haven't mentioned her once."

You know why, you know exactly why he didn't tell you.

“I-I didn’t want to,” he says, “I didn’t think that anything would happen between us, I-I fought the feelings for a long time but I– I couldn’t fight them any longer and I couldn’t, I just couldn’t tell you because I knew you wouldn’t want me anymore if I told you about her."

"How dare you talk about feelings?” you ask, not even feeling the tears anymore, “you fucking used me, you did so from the start!”

“What? No!” he shakes his head with wide eyes, “I never used you!”

“Yes, you fucking did! That’s why you never told me about her! That's why the guys never told me! You used me for everything! You used me for the songs, you used me for this fucking band, you knew who I was– who my dad was! You needed me and you needed to make sure that I stayed, that’s why you spent so much fucking time with me, that’s why you made me like you, that’s why you made me fall in love with you!” you scream at him, your voice heavy with emotions, your eyes filled with nothing but disgust and anger for the man in front of you. You don’t even care about hiding your feelings anymore, you don’t care about hiding the pain or the anger.

Eddie only stares at you with a shocked expression on his face, he blinks and stands frozen in place.

He knew you liked him, he knew you liked spending time with him, he knew you liked touching and kissing him but he didn’t know that your feelings were as deep as his.

“Using me for the music wasn't enough, you just had to go even further, huh? Was I her replacement? You needed someone to keep your bed warm?” you cry, throwing your hands up.

He doesn’t say a word, he just stares at you as tears slip down his cheeks, not knowing that he makes it all even worse with his silence.

You sniffle, your chest is filled with so much pain and you begin to struggle to breathe.

How could you let this happen? How could you not see all the clear signs? How were you so blind?

He talked to her when you were there, Chris.

“Chris…calm down! Please.. just stop calling her that.”

“I’m not coming home, don’t you get it?”

You shake your head at the memories. You can’t even look at him and the broken look in his eyes, you turn away from him as a sob falls from your lips.

His heart shatters at the sound of it. His own tears run down his face, he rushes towards you, hands itching to touch you and comfort you.

You want to pull yourself together, you want to stop crying, you want to push him away and walk out of the room but you can’t. Right now, you can’t, it all hurts so much.

You feel his hands on your cheeks again, he tilts your head up, “I never used you, not in any way, you hear me?”

“Yes, you did,” you whisper angrily, “you all did, I was a big fucking joke to all of you! You needed me for this stupid band, you said so yourself, remember? And while you were at it, you decided to use me too because she wasn’t there!”

“No!” he pulls you closer, you can feel the shakiness of his hands, you can see how much he’s hurting too, “that’s not true, at all!” Yes it is, no one and nothing can convince you otherwise.

You close your eyes and shake your head, the stiffness in your body disappears and you melt into his touch, you’re exhausted. Eddie leans down, his lips touch your cheeks, he kisses your tears away, “please, that’s not what happened. I– we never used you. I wanted you right from the start, I wanted you in the band, I wanted you with me,” he mumbles against your skin.

“Just stop, Eddie,” you whisper even though you want to yell at him and push him away from you.

He continues to kiss your tears away as you stand there frozen in place.

“Please, just stop,” your voice breaks and so does his heart. One look into your eyes and he knows, he lost you.

“I’m done with this,” you say shakily, “I’m done with you.”

His bottom lip quivers, his face falls and just the sight of him alone is enough to shatter the last piece of your already broken heart.

“Please.”

“Stay away from me, Eddie,” you whisper as you take one final look at him before you turn away.

His shoulders slump as he begins to cry harder, he wants to follow you, he wants to take your hand, he wants to pull you into his arms again but all he can do is watch you leave.

You grab your jacket and wipe your tears away before you open the door and walk out with fresh tears in your eyes.

Betrayal and heartbreak is all you feel. His tears, his pleading eyes, his words, his touches didn’t convince you. You don’t believe him, you don’t believe a single word he told you.

You feel stupid, you feel like a fool for falling for him, for believing him. All this time, he led you on.

Using you for the music was one thing but using you to fill the hole that she left when she wasn’t there was another.

You press your lips together to keep yourself from sobbing. Putting the jacket on, you walk away, not bothering to look for the others. You don’t want to see them, you don’t want to see anyone. You don’t want to go on the tour bus, you don’t want to go back into the hotel room that you have shared with Eddie.

“Y/n!”

You clench your jaw at the sound of Gareth’s voice.

“Wait up for me!”

You halt in your tracks, closing your eyes, you take a deep breath. You turn around and tilt your head as you look at him.

His hair is wet and he changed his clothes, you can smell his aftershave as he stops in front of you. His eyes widen a little, guilt flashes in them, he speaks your name softly.

“What do you want?” you ask.

The anger rises up in you again. He pushed you into Eddie’s arms, he did everything to bring the two of you together, all while knowing about his girlfriend.

“I-I.. shit, I didn’t think this would happen.”

A look of disbelief settles on your face and you can’t help but laugh at his words despite the burning in your eyes.

“Well, what did you think would happen, huh?” you ask, not caring about the prying eyes of the staff.

Gareth sighs, looking down, “I just, Eddie likes you and you like him, I just wanted.. to help.”

You scoff, shaking your head, “help? You helped real fucking good, Gareth. He had a girlfriend all this time and you what? You thought that it would be fun to convince him to cheat on her with me?” you point to yourself, “the fool that fell in love with that asshole?”

He shakes his head with wide eyes.

"No, I-I thought he would leave her, I didn't even know that they were still together, you were so close, I thought it was over."

Bullshit.

“What a fucking shit show,” you mumble before you walk away to look for one of the security guards that will get you out of the venue. You don’t want to be around any of them tonight.

Eddie walks out of the room after wiping the tears off that continued to fall after you left.

“There you are,” Chrissy says as she walks towards him after leaving the conversation with Rob.

He plasters a smile on his face as he looks at his girlfriend.

“Is everything okay?” she asks, reaching for his hand.

He nods, “yeah, everything is okay, Chrissy,” he lies.

She furrows her brows and stares at her boyfriend, “you know, I thought you’d be happier to see me.”

“I am happy, Chris,” he mumbles, “I’m just tired.”

A breathy sigh leaves her lips, she stands on her tippy toes and places her hands on his chest as she starts to kiss his neck, “are you really? I missed you,” she purrs as she continues to kiss his neck, “I thought we’d make up for lost time tonight.”

Eddie closes his eyes, he places his hands on her waist and sighs, not out of pleasure but out of frustration. He can’t do this, he doesn’t want to do this.

“Come on,” he mumbles, “I just want to go back to the hotel.”

She gives him one last peck before she pulls away.

The smile he gives her is so painful and forced, he is surprised that she doesn’t question it.

“I didn’t know you were planning a surprise.”

“I uh–” she lets out a quiet laugh, “I’m actually here for Aubrey’s bachelorette party, we’ve been here since monday.”

“Oh,” he nods. Of course she didn’t come here just for him.

“How are things back home?” he asks to fill the awkward silence between them.

Her blue eyes flash with something unreadable, she looks away for a moment before she looks back at him with a sheepish smile on her face, “good.. yeah, they’re good.”

“Do you see Wayne sometimes?”

She laughs a little as she shakes her head, “where would I see him, Eddie?”

He frowns at her words, shrugging, “at the store?” he suggests, “family video? I know you love to get your movies there.”

She looks down, “I never see him around,” she shrugs.

Leaving the venue was always a lot, fans were waiting outside, hoping for an autograph or a picture or more and usually, everyone would stop to engage with the fans but everything was different tonight. Gareth felt guilty after the conversation with you, giving his fangirls nothing more than a few smiles and hugs before disappearing in the tour bus, Jeff signed a few poster and so did Johnny but Eddie walked straight into the tour bus, trying to shield his girlfriend from the prying eyes and the paparazzis.

Eddie doesn’t mind the fans but he hates the media, the flashing lights, the prying eyes and the questions that are constantly thrown at him and at you.

As he looked around, he noticed that everyone was there but you.

“Where’s y/n?”

“She already left,” Rob says with a pointed look on his face, “with one of the security guards.”

“Oh, okay.”

You felt angry on stage.

You felt angry when you talked to him.

You felt angry when you talked to Gareth.

You felt angry on the way back to the hotel.

But the moment you stepped into your hotel room and turned the lights on, your eyes fell on the bed that you shared with Eddie earlier, all the anger disappeared and all you felt was agonizing pain in your chest.

He left his things here, the shirt he wore earlier is still on the bed, his sunglasses are still on the dresser, his leather jacket is draped over the chair. One of his necklaces laying next to yours that you have taken off this morning.

You close your eyes as you lean your back against the door.

You are still in disbelief, still in shock. You feel like a zombie as you waltz through the room, throwing your jacket on the chair by the window, you take your boots off and throw them on the floor. You collect some fresh clothes before you make your way to the bathroom to take a shower.

Usually, you are excited to wash the sweat off from performing all night but tonight, you just want to wash his touch off. As though that could ever be possible.

His touches, his kisses are burned into your skin for eternity.

You stand there for what feels like forever, your legs almost give out and you have to sit down to keep yourself from falling. You pull your knees up to your chest and let the water fall down on you.

You sit there until the room is filled with steam and the heat gets too much.

The tears don’t appear until you stare at yourself in the mirror.

You brush your hair and stare at the marks that Eddie left on your neck, the tears begin to fall, staining your cheeks once again.

He touched you and thought of someone else.

He kissed you and had her on his mind.

You were nothing but a placeholder. A body to keep his bed warm.

He was using you while you were falling in love with him like a fool.

You feel sick, you feel like screaming your lungs out, you feel like destroying things, you feel like destroying yourself, you feel like punishing yourself for being so stupid and blind.

You turn off the lights and leave the bathroom just as a knock on your door echoes through the silent room.

“Y/n, kid, are you in there?”

You sigh in relief when you hear Rob’s voice on the other side of the door.

“Yeah.”

“Is uh– is everything okay? You need anything?”

With your eyes closed, you lean against the door. Warm tears slide down your cheeks, your breathing gets heavy and you can feel yourself nearing a breakdown.

“No, I’m good, I’m just gonna get some sleep now,” you say.

“Okay. Don’t miss breakfast tomorrow, alright?”

“I won’t.”

“Good night, kid.”

“Night.”

You drag yourself to the bed, throwing Eddie’s shirt on the ground as you lift the covers and crawl inside. The moment your head hits the pillow and you smell him, a sob falls from your lips. You squeeze your eyes shut and pull the blanket up to your chest.

The pain is unbearable.

You never understood what your dad felt like when he got his heart broken, you could only imagine it.

Now you understand it.

Now you understand everything.

Through the thin hotel room walls, Eddie can hear you crying. He can hear your sobs, he can hear you suffering. Because of him. He wants nothing more than to go over to your room and pull you into his arms, hold you and take away all the pain that he has caused but he can’t.

Another girl is laying in his arms, snuggling into his chest with a sigh. She sleeps soundly in his arms.

Eddie looks down at her and his heart hurts. She is not the one he wants any longer. He doesn’t want her in his arms, he wants you.

Your cries make him cry, hot tears run down his skin, staining the pillow he is lying on. He broke your heart and his own too.

Losing you was something he was always afraid of but he hoped that he could prevent it, he hoped that he could break things off with her before you found out.

But everything he had built with you fell apart in one night.

And he knows that there is nothing he can do to change it, there is nothing he can do to fix it. He ruined it all himself.

Maybe there is a way for you to fall back together but deep down he knows, he lost you.

If there is one useful thing that your mother has taught you in one of the few phone calls you have had with her, it’s to never show how much you’re hurting.

‘You always gotta look good, even if you don’t feel good. You don’t need others to be all up in your business and see how much you’re suffering. They want to see you suffer, don’t show them.’

So you pull yourself together even if you don’t feel like it.

‘Always make sure your hair looks good, fix your makeup, wear your best clothes, smell good.’

You do your hair, you put on makeup, you pick out a good outfit and your favorite shoes, you put your favorite perfume on.

‘Smile, honey. Don’t show them how miserable you are, you don’t want to give them that satisfaction.’

You nod to yourself as you look into the mirror.

‘And if someone hurts you, make sure to hurt them back. Make them suffer.’

Yeah, thanks mom.

The thought of seeing Eddie makes you feel sick and yet you make your way into the dining area.

You don’t hear the whispers around you and you don’t feel the eyes on you, focused on something— someone entirely else as you get yourself a coffee before leaving the buffet to look for the others.

You find them sitting at a round table by the big windows. All of them are there, including Eddie and his girlfriend. You clench your jaw at the sight of them.

Your heart aches in your chest when you see her moving closer to him, whispering something in his ear as she pushes his hair away. It makes you angry, he makes you angry and she makes you angry too. You want to rip her hands off of him and you want to hurt him.

Why does he get to be happy after what he did?

“You spend the night by yourself, Gareth?” Rob asks as he sips on his coffee.

Gareth hums, “yeah, I–” he pauses to shovel the scrambled eggs into his mouth, “didn’t feel like hooking up with some stranger.”

Chrissy gives him a disgusted look as he talks with his mouth full, “ew,” she mumbles.

Gareth gives her sarcastic grin before he stabs his fork into his pancake and takes a bite out of it.

She rolls her eyes and turns away from him.

Rob chuckles, “look at you, turning into a whole new man,” he jokes causing Jeff to laugh.

“Yeah, he is ready to settle down,” Johnny grinnes.

Gareth swallows, almost choking on his food, he reaches for the orange juice and gulps it down, wiping his mouth with his sleeve to piss off Chrissy, he smirks to himself when she hears her mumbling something under her breath.

“Settling down isn’t my thing, look at Eddie, he is in a relationship and he’s miserable,” he says as though he is stating a fact as he places his elbows on the table and points to his friend with his fork.

Eddie’s puffy eyes widen and he looks at his friend in surprise.

“He is not miserable!” Chrissy gasps in disbelief.

Jeff clears his throat.

“He looks pretty miserable to me, Christy.”

She glares at him as she tries to come up with a response.

Eddie avoids looking into her eyes, instead he looks at Jeff, who stops chewing as he stares at something behind his shoulder, his eyes widen a little and he suddenly looks nervous.

Eddie's eyes flash with curiosity.

Just as he’s about to turn around, he suddenly feels a ringed hand settling on his shoulder and sliding down his back. It’s your hand. His heart flutters and so does his stomach, even with his girlfriend here.

You place your coffee on the table and sit down on the chair next to Eddie’s. Everyone pauses what they’re doing, staring at you with nervous and curious looks on their faces.

You smile as though nothing ever happened.

You turn to look at Eddie. You have to restrain a gasp when you see the puffiness and the dark circles under his eyes. He looks just as miserable as you are feeling and the sight alone is almost enough to make you cry again but you keep smiling at him, sliding your hand back up to his shoulder, you lean closer, “good morning, baby.” You kiss the corner of his mouth. Your lips linger for longer than necessary, you watch his eyes widen in shock, a little gasp falling from his lips.

Chrissy stares at you, frozen in place just like her dumbfound boyfriend.

A shit eating grin appears on Gareth's face.

Johnny stares at you in shock.

Rob smiles into his mug and Jeff almost spits his food out as he looks between you and Eddie and then at Chrissy who stands up suddenly, chair scraping against the floor as she looks at you angrily, “what the fuck?!” She shrieks, “Eddie!”

Chrissy looks down at him in disbelief as he makes no move to remove your hand or push you away from him or look up at her. His eyes are on you as he sits there frozen in place.

He doesn't move when Chrissy slaps his shoulder, he doesn't move when she says his name again.

Leaving your hand to rest on his shoulder, you take your mug and take a sip as you stare at him with a satisfied smile on your face.

Two can play that game, Eddie.

"What's wrong, Chrissy?" you ask with a sweet smile.

She shakes her head, furrowing her brows at your question, "why are you kissing my boyfriend?"

"Do you want a kiss too?" you ask.

She gasps, "I- what?!"

Eddie gapes at you.

Gareth can't even contain his laughter any longer, earning a slap on his shoulder from Jeff.

"Eddie and I share everything, didn't he tell you?"

You move his hair back, running your fingers through it as you lean your chin on his shoulder and he lets you.

Her cheeks are red, her eyes are filled with anger as she looks between you and Eddie. It's amusing to you.

"Eddie?"

He finally tears his eyes away from you and looks up her. His confused stare turns into a guilty one and she easily figures out why he looks so guilty.

"Chris-"

"You asshole!" she cries as she delivers a harsh slap to his cheek before she storms away.

Eddie closes his eyes, clenching his jaw, he deserved that.

The moment she's gone, you move away from Eddie and you lean back in your chair, taking a look around, you smirk to yourself when you see all the shocked faces.

Rob scratches the back of his neck as he glances at you.

Eddie speaks your name softly.

You expected him to get mad at you, to yell at you and ask you why you did that but instead you're met by the sight of his soft eyes as you look back at him and irritates you.

"Don't you want to follow your girlfriend, Eddie?"

Confusion is written all over his face as he shakes his head. His cheek is red from the harsh slap, eyes filled with concern and hurt.

"What was that?" he asks, not understanding why you would touch him and kiss him again after what you said to him last night. A foolish part of him hopes that things can go back to the way they were before yesterday but the coldness in your eyes shows him that things will never be the same again.

"That was me showing your girlfriend what a piece of shit you are, Eddie."

Saying these words hurt you just as much as they hurt him.

He says your name with a shaky voice, like he is on the verge of crying.

You can't do this.

Looking into his glassy eyes, hearing his shaky voice, seeing how hurt he looks, breaks your heart even more.

You thought you could make yourself believe that you would be fine, that you could pretend that it doesn't hurt but you would be lying to yourself.

You get up and storm out of the room without looking back.

"Y/n!"

He didn't follow her out but he follows you.

You walk through the lobby and back to the elevators, blinking your tears away.

"Wait!"

He grabs your upper arm and pulls you back, placing both of his hands on your arms, he cages you against the nearest wall so you don't escape him again.

"Let me go."

He shakes his head.

You can see the fear and the pain in his eyes, the sadness; as though he wasn't the one that got him into this situation in the first place. Your heart still hurts.

"Please," he whispers, "I know I fucked up, I know what I did was wrong, I should have told you, I should have left her before we-"

"Stop," you sigh, "I don't wanna hear it."

"I'm just, I'm sorry. I never wanted to hurt you."

"But you did."

His eyes are filled with tears and yours are too.

"Last night you told me that you have feelings for me-"

"I do," he says, squeezing your arms.

"How long have you known then?"

"For some time now, before we left California."

You nod, sniffling, you look down and close your eyes.

"See, I don't believe a word you're saying, Eddie. If you did have feelings for me, you would have left her- I'm not saying that you should have done that, I don't want to be a fucking home wrecker but a good person would have been honest about their feelings and leave their partner before becoming a fucking cheater," you pause as you take a deep breath and look back into his sad eyes, "you didn't tell her anything, you didn't tell me anything. You don't have feelings for me, you needed me to keep yourself satisfied and now that I know the truth, you do everything to make me believe you because you're scared."

You push him away from you, "you're scared that I'll leave the band because you know, you'd be nothing without me."

"No, please, y/n," he sighs in defeat, "that's not true, I don't even care about that, I care about you, about us."

"There is no us, there never was and there never will be," you say, staring at him through your blurry vision, "I'll stay for the rest of the tour but the moment it's over, the moment we're back in LA, I'm out and I never want to see you again after this, Eddie."

He starts crying and so do you.

"No," he whispers.

The look in his eyes and pain in his voice destroys you, it leaves a hole in your heart.

Your eyes are filled with betrayal and heartbreak.

His eyes are filled with pain, fear and heartbreak too.

Now you are nothing but two broken people.

And this is only the beginning of all the pain that is about to follow.

Taglist: @prettyboyeddiemunson @littledemondani @wroteclassicaly @corrodedcorpses @cry-for-u @mysticmunson @eddielives1986 @1paire2vans @poisonedluv @sherrylyn628 @aysheashea @kaitebugg03 @lma1986 @aftermidnightwriting @miarosso @novelnovella @magenta-moon @strawberries-n-lavender @bibieddiesgf @michaelfuckinglangdon @tlclick73 @hazydespair @veravee-blog @lfaewrites @saayanaaa @madaboutjoe @papichulo120627 @emma77645 @joantje @eddiiiieeee @harringtonfan4 @kukisthings @unfocused81 @pwinglez1 @a-dreamy-sagittarius @riddlesinthenight @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things imagines #stranger things imagine #stranger things angst

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callsign-rogueone · 2 months

Text

you're somebody else - b.s.

Brennan Sorrengail x Reader words: 1.7k 🏷: IRON FLAME SPOILERS. reader uses she/her pronouns. angst, angst, angst (but a happy ending!) blood, discussion of injury, scars and stitches. inspired by / titled after the song by flora cash

Your fiancé has been dead for six years. You’d read his name on the death roll, and burned his belongings in an offering to Malek.

Now he’s standing thirty feet away from you with both of his sisters, breathing and moving, reacting to something they’d said.

He’s alive.

Your grip on your bag falters, and it falls to the floor with a soft thud.

Everyone’s eyes turn to you. The younger of the two Sorrengail girls recognizes you instantly, her lips parting in shock as she takes you in for the first time since Brennan’s graduation from Basgiath.

Her gaze shifts to her brother, whose eyes are now locked with yours. You look like you’ve seen a ghost, unable to pull your eyes away from the man in front of you.

You make no move toward him; don’t leap into his arms like he’d imagined for years, don’t hug him as tightly as you can, don’t cry tears of happiness. Your boots are still glued to the polished floor of the hall.

“Sweetheart,” he breathes, “I…”

You flinch at his voice, the sound you’ve only heard in dreams for the last six years.

The tall man standing beside him, who you distantly recognize to be Fen Riorson’s son, motions for the two girls to leave.

“It’s good to see you again,” Violet says softly. You’ve always had a soft spot for her, had written her letters after you’d gotten the news, sharing in her grief.

Mira only gives you a lingering glance as she follows her sister, leaving you alone with Brennan.

“You’re hurt,” he says gently, seeing the tear in the right thigh of your pants and the bloody gash beneath it. “Can I mend you?”

You remain silent, but you nod once in affirmation.

You pretend the hands on your leg belong to anyone else, keeping your eyes forward while he kneels in front of you, working to close the wound.

He finally speaks. “My love, I’m so-”

“Please don’t call me that,” you interrupt, and he feels a pain rival to that of the arrow he’d taken to the chest, the one that should have killed him.

He’s silent, letting you continue. You’ll likely have as much pent up emotion to release as his sisters did when they found out. Thankfully, you choose Violet’s path over Mira’s, eviscerating him with words rather than fists. His nose still doesn’t feel right; mending himself has always been difficult.

“I still mourn you,” you tell him. “I've lit a candle for Malek every night in your honor since I got the news. To have my life crumble around me, to find out we’re at war, that I’ve been on the wrong side the whole time, and then to find that for six years, you’ve been alive, but you never once thought about writing to me to tell me any of it…” you shake your head, pressing your lips together to hold in a sob.

You steady your breathing after a moment. “I’m glad you’re alive, Brennan, I really am. But my Brennan, the man I was supposed to marry, the one who wrote me love letters in ancient languages, is still dead. He has been for years.”

You reach into the chest pocket of your flight jacket, placing something cold in his hand and closing his fingers around it. He doesn’t need to look down to know that it's your engagement ring.

“Thank you for the mending,” you say, picking up your bag.

He waits until your footsteps have retreated back into the hallway, letting loose a shuddering sob.

Marbh sends him a wave of warmth and empathy. If there is any being who knows how much it had hurt Brennan to be away from you so long, it is him.

“Your brother needs you, silver one,” Tairn relays to Violet, a resigned quiet in his tone that has the cadet slipping away from the group to run back to the assembly room.

When she arrives, she finds Brennan sitting on the floor, knees tucked to his chest, sobbing. It’s a sight she never wants to see again; it just feels so wrong.

Brennan had always been the strongest of the siblings, the tree that could weather any storm, a perfect balance of their mother’s intense strength and their father’s calm intelligence. It was always her crying after an injury, Mira or Brennan taking her to the infirmary for Nolon to mend it, soothing her all the while.

It’s her turn now to hold him as he cries, murmuring reassurances.

“She’ll come around,” Violet promises, though there’s a nagging feeling in her chest that says you might not. “Prove to her that you are the same man she fell in love with, that you are still worthy of her, and she’ll come around.”

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

You don’t speak with him for two days, only seeing him stand on the dais at Battle Brief.

It had stung to hear Devera refer to him as Lieutenant Colonel Aisereigh. He’d changed his name. He really isn’t your Brennan anymore.

He catches you at breakfast — none of your squadmates had come with you from Montserrat, so you’re sitting alone at one of the long tables.

You look up at him silently, letting him speak first.

He lays a thick bundle of papers on the table in front of you. “The first year of letters,” he answers before you can ask, “that I was too much of a coward to send.”

You look down at the stack of aged parchment. There have to be at least twenty letters there — one a week since July, when he’d been sent to Aretia.

By the time you look back up, he’s gone.

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

A week passes, then another.

He’s nearly too busy to worry about you, between the arguments among the assembly, the arrival of the gryphon fliers and the subsequent issues integrating them, and his duties mending the injuries resulting from the animosity there.

Someone steps through the door of the infirmary, panting as they limp an injured rider forward. “She just collapsed. I don’t know what’s wrong.”

Brennan realizes it’s you they’re holding up, his heart pounding. He wraps an arm around your waist to take you from your friend, and his hand slips against your side, warm and wet with blood.

He guides you onto one of the empty beds, pulling up the sticky fabric of your shirt.

The messily-wrapped bandage around your torso has absorbed all the blood it can, the row of stitches underneath torn open. You must have done this yourself in an effort to avoid him, and it didn’t hold.

At least the wound doesn’t seem infected.

He presses a clean palm into the skin, apologizing when you whimper and flinch away. “S’okay, pretty girl,” he soothes, brushing the hair from your forehead gently.

You don’t seem to hear him, your eyes still closed. Fuck, how much blood have you lost?

It’s easy enough to mend the wound, but it’s going to scar — it’s not fresh enough for him to make it disappear without a trace.

He washes the blood from his hands, pulling up a chair beside the bed and watching the gentle rise and fall of your chest as you sleep.

He has no idea if you’ve read the letters he gave you had changed your mind, or if you’d read them at all. You may very well have burned them. You’d be right to, after the way he’d lied to you.

You might never take him back. This may be his last chance to touch you, to feel the warmth of your skin against his.

He takes your hand gently, intertwining your fingers and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles, squeezing your palm three times — three times means I love you, you’d told him years ago.

His heart nearly stops as you squeeze back weakly; once, twice, three times.

—————————————————————

You blink the sleep from your eyes, your gaze settling on Brennan sitting beside you, an ancient looking book in his hand, pen between his teeth and a notebook covered with nearly incoherent scribbles in his lap.

Maybe he hasn’t changed as much as you’d thought.

The book and notes are quickly abandoned when he realizes you’re awake. “What the hell happened?”

“Godsdamned gryphon bit me because it didn’t like the order I gave it’s flier,” you explain, stretching your aching muscles. How long had you been asleep?

“And rather than seeking professional help, you stitched it up yourself?” He asks in that same stern tone he’d always used with you after you put yourself in danger.

This time you don’t find it endearing.

“Yes, I did, like I have for the last six years every time I’ve been injured,” you snap. “The way people do when they don’t have a mender with them.”

He holds his tongue, realizing how many scars you’d acquired over the years. Since he developed his signet, he’d always mended even the smallest of scrapes for you, but now stripes of scar tissue run across your skin like rivers on a map, ghosts of past wounds, some healed better than others.

He imagines you sitting alone in your barracks room with a needle and thread, a folded shirt clenched between your teeth as you sewed the wounds shut.

“Please come see me next time?” He asks softly, genuine concern in his voice. “It could have gotten infected, or worse. And if your friend hadn’t been there…”

You sigh, guilt tugging at you. “Okay.”

“Thank you. Get some rest,” he encourages, turning to gather his things.

“I read some of the letters,” you say, and he turns back to face you. “I’m still hurt, but I’m not angry. I don’t think I could ever be angry with you. You’re a good man, Bren. You’ve done great things for these people.”

The weight on his chest lightens, but he stays quiet, waiting for another heartbreaking line.

“Can we start over?” You ask in a whisper, looking up at him. “Can we try to be us again?”

He smiles. “I’d love nothing more, sweetheart.”

Your heart flutters at the word, as if you’re hearing it from him for the first time. In a way, you are.

#brennan sorrengail #brennan sorrengail x reader #fourth wing #fourth wing x reader #liz brennanposting at midnight? more likely than you think #mine

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suugarbabe · 5 months

Text

[Chapter 2]

Word count: ~3.5k

Warnings: domestic violence, mentions of blood, mentions of parental death

Small giggles are eventually what give away your location, the doors to the closet bursting open, “I found you, princepesa!” Your mothers voice causing more laughter to erupt from your young throat as she picked you up. She brought you to the bed, fingers ticking your side before pausing, pushing a hair behind your ear, “I’ll always find you, Princepesa. I’ll be there for you no matter what”

A whirring occurred before your eyes, the early memory spinning and swirling until you were thrust into another moment

You left your dolls on the table as your mother called out for you, “Princepesa, look! A letter for you!” You took the envelope from your mother, seeing a crest H on the back with a wax stamp. Your mother came up behind you, wrapping her arms around your shoulders, “Open it, tesoro, your future is in there.”

Another whirring of the memory occurs before your thrust back into the chair in Mattheo’s office. You gasped for breath, using the back of your hand you wiped a few rogue tears that fell across your cheeks.

“I must say, Princess, while I’m bored of all these happy memories you do seem to show strength in protecting your painful ones,” Mattheo used his wand to tilt your chin up, forcing eye contact, “The love you hold for your mother can be used against you, princepesa. Especially in this line of work.”

You scoffed, sniffling slightly, “Don’t worry, she’s dead. Nothing to hold against me anymore.” Mattheo slid his wand up your face, along your cheek and up to your temple, “Now that you’re emotionally drained, maybe I can get to the good stuff…legilimens.”

Immediately you were thrust back into your apartment six months ago, hiding again in a closet but for an entirely different reason. You gathered the bottom of your shirt to hold to your bleeding mouth. Footsteps coming up the stairs caused all your motions to still, the bottom of your shirt now stuffed in your mouth to help conceal any other noises you could make.

“I know you’re up here, sunshine. I just wanna talk, s’no reason to hide. I just lost my temper, you know how I get when you run that pretty mouth of yours.” You squeezed your eyes shut hugging your knees closer to your body. You heard a lamp smash in the room, making you jump slightly. The next moment the closet doors were flung open, him standing over you with a malicious grin, “Found you, sunshine.”

Your head twisted, shaking yourself from the memory, “No…no! I am not reliving that memory for your own selfish gain or understanding or whatever the bloody hell you’re wanting to do.”

Mattheo lowered his wand, setting it on the desk behind him. You flinched slightly when his large palm cupped your cheek, “Who was he, Princess? Where is he now?” You shook your head, lip quivering. Mattheo swiped his thumb over the apple of your cheek, catching the stray tears as they fell.

“I-I don’t know where he is,” you managed to whisper out, “that’s w-why…” Mattheo dragged his thumb over your bottom lip, silencing your next sentence and finishing it himself. “That’s why your flat was so protected.” You nodded, leaning away from his palm.

Mattheo gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him, “You’re safe here, you know that don’t you?” You nodded, peering up at him. “What was his name, Princess?” You tried to shake your head, but Mattheo’s grip on your chin only tightened, “Tell me now or I can find out myself. You don’t want it to be the latter.”

Your bottom lip quivered, “D-Damniano…Damniano Lombardi.” Then Mattheo did something you didn’t expect, still holding your chin but leaning forward, pressing a firm kiss to your forehead. “Go get changed, Princess. Enzo will be waiting for you at the bar.”

He let go of your face, walking round his desk to sit at his chair. You wiped your face with the sleeves of your jumper before standing, “Erm, when d-do you want me to have another lesson?” Mattheo leaned back in his chair grabbing his wand and spinning it between his tattooed fingers, “We’ll take the day off tomorrow, then we’ll get to it again.”

You nodded turning towards the door. “Oh, and Princess,” your looked over your shoulder at his calling, “don’t be afraid to hurt someone if they touch you again. Enzo told me what happened last night.” You gave a tired smirk, nodding before exiting his office and heading towards the dancers dressing rooms.

Sitting down at one of the vanities you stared at yourself in the mirror, taking in your blotchy cheeks. Dry tears stained your skin and your eyes were rimmed red. You looked over the makeup on the counter, trying to decide what would be your best match and how to make yourself look the most presentable.

One of the dancers came to stand behind you, reaching over your shoulder and grabbing a concealer and holding it in front of you, “I’d choose this one, hun. Maybe do a little gold on your eyes, it’d really make them pop.” You smiled at her through the mirror, “Thank you. I’m-”

“I know who you are,” she cut you off with a sweet smile, “I’m Roxy. The boss seems to have taken a liking to you.” You scoffed, “I don’t think that’s true. Seems to be harder on me than anyone else.”

Roxy nodded, grabbing hold of both your shoulders, “That’s how you know he likes you.” She gave your shoulder a quick squeeze before sauntering off further into the dressing rooms. You looked back into the mirror, applying the makeup she picked out and adorning your eyelids with the gold shimmer she suggested. You finished it off with some black mascara before taking a deep breath and changing into your work clothes.

As you came up to the bar you heard a low whistle. Looking up you were met with a smile from Enzo that you couldn’t help but mirror, “Hello to you too, Enz.” You were thankful you’ve only seen the sweet side of Enzo thus far. He made you feel calm in the presence of what seemed like so much chaos.

“How was your first lesson? Was he tough?” Enzo spoke as he filled the ice bins for the night, anticipating a similar crowd as last night. You let out a long sigh, rubbing your temples before meeting Enzo’s eyes again. “That bad huh?” He let out an exasperated laugh.

“Emotionally draining for sure. More than I expected.” Enzo nodded along, “It gets easier the less secrets you try to keep.” You rolled your eyes, “Secrets have been the only thing keeping me safe, Enz. It’s kind of hard to just give them up because some attractive, intimidating man asks me to.”

Enzo’s eyebrows shot up, “Don’t go falling for the boss now, Angel.” You laughed at this, “Merlin, no. I can acknowledge someone’s attractiveness objectively. You’re very attractive too, Enzie.” You threw him a wink and patted his chest as you walked by him, setting up on your side of the bar.

Thankfully the night didn’t have any mishaps like the one before. Beyond most of the men trying to hit on you, the night went smoothly. You and Enzo were finishing cleaning glasses when Blaise sat at the bar, extending his hand to you, “Haven’t had the pleasure of formally meeting yet, love. I’m Blaise. I’d offer you my security services but from what I hear you can hold your own pretty well.”

He sent a wink to punctuate his statement and you couldn’t help the tint of pink that flushed your cheeks, “It was just a drunk muggle, they’re easy to handle.” Blaise didn’t hide the smirk that etched onto his face, “While that’s all fine and dandy, I was more so talking about what you did to shut Malfoy up. Would’ve loved to see that.”

“That’s what I said!” Enzo exclaimed, “Think a little dueling match between them would be fun to watch, eh?” You rolled your eyes at the pair, setting your final glass down and grabbing your bag from beneath the bar.

Blaise looked you over, a playful glint in his eye, “Where d’ya think you’re going, love?” You crossed your arms over your chest, “I’m about to go home. I’m assuming that I can apparate in and out of the building now that I work here officially.”

Enzo and Blaise made eye contact, exchanging looks that suddenly gave you jitters. Enzo set down the glass he was polishing, turning his body fully towards you, “Didn’t Malfoy tell you? You don’t live there anymore.”

Your jaw dropped, “I thought that was a joke.” Blaise shook his head, looking down towards the ground as he chuckled before meeting your eyes, “You started legilimens lessons today right?” You nodded, confirming. “A’right then, that means Mattheo thinks you’re valuable. Usable. Also means he probably wants you to live with us now.”

You shook your head, hands held up in protest, “Woah, woah…live with you guys? Like all you boys live together and now I’m stuck there too?” Enzo held a hand to his chest in mock offense, “I’ll have you know I’m a fantastic house mate. Also Pans lives there too so you’re not the only girl.”

You pushed passed him, walking from behind the bar into the main room, “No way. No. How is he just allowed to dictate that? What about all my stuff? My things that were in my flat, I’m just supposed to leave them?”

“Anything that was important to you was taken to the house, your necessities were placed in your room. Other items that were deemed important to you were placed in two boxes. You can go through them and place them in the house where you’d like,” Mattheo’s voice cut through all other conversation, striking through the air with commanding force.

Defiant as you were, you pushed back, “And who decided what was important and what wasn’t?” Your stance held confidence your voice seemed to waiver in, your weight on one leg while your hip jutted out to the side. Mattheo rolled his tongue against his cheek as he eyed you up and down, “Forget I got a little tour of your mind earlier, Princess? I sent Malfoy and Pansy to your old place earlier to gather everything. Now c’mon, I’ll take you home and give you a tour.”

Mattheo stood with his arm out, elbow bent awaiting your grasp. You looked over to Blaise and Enzo for help but both men had their heads facing the floor. You scowled at them, stomping over to Mattheo with as much attitude as you could muster.

“Let that attitude reach your eyes and I might be able to do something with it,” Mattheo playfully whispered before you grabbed his arm and were being apparated to Merlin knows where.

When your feet found grounding you took in your surroundings. From what you could see you were standing in the middle of a Forrest, not dissimilar to that on your old school grounds. “What do we all get our own tents, boss?” You let go of Mattheo’s arm, going to walk slightly in front of him when he gripped the back of your neck, thumb pressing just behind your ear.

His breath was hot against the shell of your ear, “Don’t you trust me, Princess?” A shudder ran down your spine, but you nodded nonetheless. “Use your words, pretty girl,” you could almost hear the smirk in his tone as he spoke.

“Yes, sir. I t-trust you,” you stuttered out in a whisper. Mattheo’s thumb rubbed on the skin behind your ear, “Good girl. Now in order for you to see and enter the manor, I’m gonna have to mark you.”

Your spine stiffened, “M-mark me how? W-where?” His grip tightened slightly around your neck, thumb pressing a little harder behind your ear, “Right there, Princess. I promise it won’t hurt, but your agreeance means you’ll learn all our secrets, and once you know them there’s only one way out.”

You turned your head slightly, catching his dark eyes, “And what way is that?” Mattheo shook his head, “Don’t worry, Princess. I won’t let it ever happen to you. Are you ready?” You nodded, closing your eyes and bracing yourself. Mattheo rubbed his thumb behind your ear three times in a circular motion.

Once he was finished, you opened your eyes, the breath knocking from your lungs with what was now displayed before you. A large black manor stood where a thick of trees once were, an heir of darkness and secrecy surrounding the grounds. Mattheo started walking towards the front doors, causing you to move quickly to catch up with him.

As soon as his foot hit the first step the doors began to open. Stepping over the threshold you walked in to a giant foyer, a grand staircase running along one side up to a balcony. A house elf attempted to take your bag, promising to bring it to your room. “Thank you, Gimball. Bring her a cuppa as well.”

“Yes, Master Riddle,” Gimball bowed to the best of his ability before shuffling off. Mattheo turned towards you then, motioning toward the stairs, “I’ll show you to your room. You can explore the rest of the house tomorrow, Pansy will show you around, tell you the rules.”

You huffed, following him up the stairs, “Rules?” Mattheo stopped in his tracks causing you to slam into his back. He turned quickly, grabbing hold of your waist before you had the chance to fall backwards, “You said you trust me, you agreed to the mark. That means you follow the rules, do you understand?”

A head nod was all you could manage, but it seemed good enough for Mattheo as he turned back around and ascended the rest of the staircase. The doors in the hall were all black, a slightly darker shade than the hall walls. “This room is mine,” he pointed to the only room that held double doors. “And this one is yours,” he stopped at the door next to his, “if you need anything you can call for Gimball.”

You nodded in understanding, turning the knob and walking in. On the bed was your comforter and pillows from your flat, though they didn’t quite fit on the now king bed that you were to sleep on. You took in the room around you, noticing the antique dresser against the back wall, and a large sitting chair in the front corner.

You opened a door to the side to reveal a walk in closet that led to an en suite bathroom. You stared at the minimal clothing that took up not even half of the closet, sighing to yourself.

“Anything missing?” You turned to see Mattheo leaning against the doorframe. His arms crossed over his chest accentuated the strong muscles in his biceps. You didn’t let your stare wonder for too long before answering, “It seems all here, I’ll check the boxes in the morning. Actually, I’m really tired now that I think about it. Do you mind if I go to sleep?”

Mattheo watched as you opened the different drawers to the dresser until you found your nightgowns and shorts sets, “I’ll be just next door if you need anything.” You nodded in acknowledgment as Mattheo closed your door. You let out a deep breath, grabbing a shorts and tank set and going to run a shower.

As you undressed, you looked at yourself in the mirror. You turned your head to the side, pulling your ear down to reveal a small snake. You closed your eyes, a mixture of emotion swirling inside your chest. You knew you were safe now. You weren’t exactly sure what Mattheo and the others were capable of but from what you’ve seen, heard and experienced over the last two days, you could put two and two together.

You let the heat of the water run over your muscles, doing your best to relax for the first night in two months. You went through your nightly routine, getting dressed and climbing in to the large bed. You grabbed the cup of tea from the nightstand, Gimball somehow knowing exactly how you take it.

You settled into the duvet, pulling it tight against your chin. You inhaled deeply, relishing in the only thing that felt like home right now. Relaxing against the pillows you did your best to find sleep. However when sleep finally came it was anything but peaceful.

The force of Damiano’s hand had you slamming into the wall behind you. You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling the warmth of blood down the side of your lip. “Damniano, please. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“Merlin, sunshine, are you really that stupid? Do you ever shut your fucking mouth and just listen for once?” You groaned in pain as Damniano grasped on to your hair, pulling you up and throwing you toward the bed. “You never learn, do you sunshine?”

You tried to get up, tried to run only to be pulled back by your hair, Damniano throwing you to the ground and jabbing his heel into your side. You let out a whimper, clutching your side. As you tried to crawl away from Damiano, he climbed on top of you, grabbing your wrists and pinning you down. You thrashed underneath him, shouting at him to let go.

“Wake up, Princess. Cmon, eyes open, look at me,” Mattheo was lightly shaking your shoulders, trying to control the thrashing you were doing in your sleep. You gasped awake, clutching on to the man in front of you, fingers digging in to the skin of his back as you let out ragged breaths.

Mattheo wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to his chest, “Let it out, Princess. It’s okay. You’re safe now, he can’t hurt you.” You clutched on to him tighter, burying your face deeper into his chest as you let a sob wrack your body, tears flowing and dampening his bare skin.

Soothing circles were rubbed into your back as you finally were able to steady your breathing. You released your hold on him, pulling back slightly and wiping the backs of your hands on your face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you, I didn’t realize how loud my nightmare made me.”

“You weren’t loud, and I told you, I’ll always be here for you,” Mattheo swiped his thumb under your cheek, catching a stray tear. “Right, well, I’m sorry I woke you,” you rubbed your hands up and down your arms, staring down at your bare legs.

Mattheo shook his head again, “I was already awake. But I’ll let you try to sleep again.” He stood from the bed, giving you one last look before he started towards the door. You gnawed at your bottom lip, playing with your fingers. You didn’t want to be alone. You knew if you were you probably weren’t going to get any more sleep the rest of the night.

“Mattheo, wait…” he stopped with a hand on the door knob. “Will you…stay, just until I fall asleep again. I…don’t want to be alone.” Mattheo walked back towards your bed, gently getting in on the other side. You watched as the muscles in his chest moved, the tattoos on his chest rippling as he climbed into the bed.

The size of your old duvet caused him to settle in closer to you than you originally anticipated, being able to feel the heat radiate off his body as you also sank back into the covers. You laid on your back, staring at the ceiling as you got used to Mattheo in the bed next to you. You then shuffled to your side, facing away from Mattheo. You then laid on your back again, squeezing your eyes shut trying to will yourself to sleep.

Mattheo let out a long sigh, sliding an arm under your shoulders and pulling you into his side. You let out a small yelp, catching yourself with a hand on his stomach, fingers fitting in the divers of his abdomen. He patted your head, encouraging you to lay down on his chest, “Close your eyes, Princess. Nothing can hurt you now. He can’t get to you.”

Mattheo grasped the meat of your outer thigh, pulling your leg over his waist. He trailed his fingertips up and down your thigh, the motion more soothing than you expected. Your breathing steadied out, your eyes feeling heavier with each passing of Mattheo’s fingers.

As you felt the pull of sleep begin to grasp you, you swore you felt Mattheo’s lips against the crown of your head.

#mafia!slytherin boys #mafia!mattheo riddle #Mattheo riddle x reader #Mattheo riddle x you #Mattheo riddle fic #protego series

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kitty-tea · 3 months

Text

Like father, like son

Welcome to the third and final part of the story!

Here’s part one and part two

(Link to masterlist)

Summary: James finally gets what he wants.

A/n: thank you to everyone who’s read the story so far! Sorry this is so long and full of filthy, smutty goodness :)

Pairing: dilf!James Potter x reader

NSFW 18+ only!

Word count: 5.4k

Tags/warnings: dilf!James Potter, super long, unprotected sex, age gap, low-key unhinged, almost-somnophilia, pet names, extremely filthy smut, NSFW, oral sex, p in v sex, teasing, reader is of age, dub-con (depends on how you look at it)

Hey, how have you been? It’s been a while since we’ve spoken to each other. I know you’ve been busy with the Auror Recruitment Programme. Dad and I are really happy for you. We both miss you very much, and it would mean a lot to me if you would come to our house for my 18th birthday. We know you’re very busy, so it’ll just be dinner with the three of us and we’ll let you leave the next morning. We’ll even let you sleep on the pull-out couch just like old times.

-Your friend, Harry

You stared at the letter in your hand that Hedwig had dropped onto your kitchen counter after you let her in. The words “we both miss you very much” stuck out to you. You were reminded of how fast time passed since Lily’s death. The first month after it happened, the three of you were a complete mess. James had gotten a letter from Professor McGonagall saying that Harry’s grades were starting to slip, and he was in danger of having to repeat sixth year on top of getting kicked off the Quidditch team (something that upset both you and James as former players for the same team) if something wasn’t done about it. With you out of school and unable to spend as much time with him, there was nothing you could do for him other than to keep sending him letters of encouragement. Luckily for him, his supportive group of friends were more than willing to help him get back to his feet and help keep him on track to graduating. You still understood that neither James nor his son would ever get over Lily’s death because you never got over your parent’s deaths. You understood each other’s pain. You’d never be that type of person to tell someone to get over a loved one’s death no matter how long ago it was.

You scribbled your response to Harry’s letter promising him that you’ll be at his house, and tied the parchment around Hedwig’s ankle before sending her off.

You sat still on your chair with a dreamy feeling inside of you. If you were a cartoon character, there would be hearts in place of your eyes. That dreamy feeling only swelled within you more by each day until it was the day for you to see James.

James felt selfish for using his son’s birthday as an excuse to see you. He was the one who brought you up during dinner, casually mentioning that you hadn’t spoken with them in a long time. He then mentioned that with Harry’s birthday coming up, it would be the perfect opportunity for you to spend time together.

That’s how he found himself answering the door at six in the evening. His heart somersaulted into his stomach at the sight of you.

“Oh, hi James.” His eyes didn’t overlook the way your cheeks turned as pink as the sunset or the same shy smile you started giving him all those years ago.

“Come in, Harry’s inside setting the table.” He stepped aside as you walked in with your overnight bag slung onto your shoulder.

James didn’t care if you caught his eyes hungrily exploring your body. Actually, he wanted you to catch him, so he could see how you’d react. Would you blush an even deeper shade of red and turn away? Or would you boldly hold his stare?

And what the hell were you wearing? You were (definitely) trying to seduce him with the tiny skirt that almost showed the plump skin of your ass and that white blouse that was high enough to show your belly button and exposed your shoulders. There was no way you were wearing a bra with the way your nipples were showing through the soft fabric, just tempting James to reach his thumb out and rub it over the hard peaks.

He then realized he couldn’t remember how long it’d been since he let his mind wander to you as he’d pleasure himself in the privacy of his own room.

He really needed to get himself together. He was not about to let his inappropriate thoughts about you slip out in front of his son.

“Happy birthday!” Your voice snapped James out of his thoughts as he saw you run over to Harry and give him a hug.

“I’m glad you could make it!” He returned your hug. “Come on, let’s eat. Aren’t you starving?”

“I know you are.” You rolled your eyes and laughed, only to abruptly stop with a blush when your eyes did indeed catch James looking at your body, specifically at your thighs that he saw you rubbing together. “Oh… yeah, what’s for dinner?” Your voice stumbled.

“My favorite, obviously because I’m the birthday boy.” Harry said in a joking snobbish way.

Throughout dinner, James sat back during most discussions you and Harry were having, enjoying the peaceful quietness without having to worry about the chaos that had been happening in the rest of the Wizarding World.

James didn’t know or care what time it was when his eyes opened to the sight of the still darkened sky outside his bedroom window and the dry, raw feeling inside his throat. He needed water which meant he’d have to go past the living room where you were sleeping in order to get to the kitchen.

Being careful not to make too much noise as he stepped past Harry’s bedroom door, he made his way down the stairs.

If the word temptation was a person, James was sure it would be you. His eyes gravitated up your exposed legs before landing on the hem of the short, pink satin robe you were wearing, your sleeping form undisturbed by his presence.

A more sinister part of his mind was begging him to walk over to you and untie your robe. One little peek wouldn’t hurt right? It told him, but he screamed at that part of him to shut up and that Lily would’ve been furious enough to come out of her grave to give him some sort of a spiritual beating and an earful if he did something that devious to you. It was just a thought. Not everything he thought needed to be acted out.

He wasn’t married anymore. He didn’t have to feel guilty about his dirty thoughts about you, right?

James found that his previous thirst for water was replaced by something else. He sat on the armchair next to the pull-out couch as he reminded himself about what he’d been taught: that men are allowed to look but not touch. But he wanted to touch you. His fingers twitched around the armrest as he imagined tracing them along your exposed inner thighs before dipping below the hem. Would his fingers feel a warm slickness or a piece of fabric? Were you wearing any underwear at all? It was hard to tell with your legs closed.

James couldn’t take it anymore. He didn’t care anymore that his conscience had no control over his body as he got up from his chair and the backs of his fingers found themselves brushing a strand of hair out of your face and down your neck. He made up this pathetic excuse in his mind that he had to check your pulse to make sure you were alive.

That excuse was so pathetic that James instantly snatched his hand back and mentally scolded himself before swiftly retreating to his bedroom.

Stepping out of the bathroom with your toothbrush bag, you adjusted your robe. You heard sounds coming from the kitchen which you deduced was James cooking something. You were right, for you spotted him behind the island where he was balancing a mixing bowl in one hand and holding a whisk in the other as you poked your head into the kitchen. You also noticed instantly that he was shirtless. And his muscles were on full display.

Although you’ve imagined what he’d look like without a shirt countless times, nothing could compare to the real view.

“Good morning. I didn’t see you there. I’m making pancakes.” You didn’t know what sounded more delicious: the pancakes, or the sound of his raspy morning voice.

You forced yourself to move your entire body into the kitchen.

You couldn’t remember how to speak as you felt your cheeks flame up and your eyes glue itself to his abs.

“Would you like to help?” Oh, you wanted to help him with something, alright. Just not the type of help he was implying.

You nodded and James gave you a smile as you made it to the kitchen island and set your toothbrush bag down. It was more like a smirk.

“What’s so funny?” You cringed at how your voice sounded like an angry little kid.

“It was like you were hiding from me.” Your heart fluttered even more inside your chest at the sound of his laughter. “Don’t worry, I won’t bite.”

When you hadn’t broken out of your trance, James brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Are you alright?” He asked. You weren’t paying attention to what he was saying. You were busy staring at every body part of his from his eyes down to the V-line of his abs that extended below the waistband of his sweats.

You also weren’t paying attention to how you were squeezing your legs together to soothe the ache that was starting to form there.

“Hey, relax. You’re all tensed up.” You gasped at the feeling of his cold hand on the heated skin of your bare thigh. You bit your lip to suppress a whimper as you felt his thumb gently rub circles in an upwards direction.

If what James was already doing to you felt this good, you thought the pleasure he would bring to you if he touched you in other places would be beyond anything you felt in your life.

“I don’t like what you’ve been doing to me, babydoll.” James murmured into your ear, his voice making you melt. “What were you thinking? Tempting me last night in that short skirt and your tits practically on display? In front of my own son? Everyone else thinks you’re such a good girl, but I see right through you.”

“What are you talking about?” You asked in your confused and dizzy state.

James scoffed. “Even a Muggle would be able to read you. You’re just as terrible at Occlumency as you are talented at Legilimency.”

So he did know about your crush on him… the question was how long had he known?

“Oh, I’ve known for a while…” James smirked, answering your mind. “Since I was married, actually. And I’ve seen your little sex dreams. They’re even better than those cheap porno films. Don’t even try to deny it.”

“James… you’re scaring me.” Your lower lip quivered. How on earth did things escalate this fast? You were beyond horrified that he could see things in your mind that even you tried hiding from yourself. There was no going back now. No more lying to yourself that you only saw James as a father figure.

“Father figure?” James asked incredulously. “Quite frankly, I’m flabbergasted that with all the magic you have, you never once saw the things I’ve thought while I was around you. If you would’ve used Legilimency on me at all, you would’ve seen all those filthy thoughts I’ve had about you that no father should have.”

“James!” You gasped as his hand disappeared below your robe and landed on your hip bone.

You were clenching your thighs so hard that you could feel some of the stickiness from your cunt leaking onto them.

“Open your legs. I want to know how filthy my little girl is.” He whispered and you obeyed. You sucked in a breath as you felt his long index finger venture into the crease of your thigh before using it to collect your warm slick and spread it up and down your pussy. You moaned and instinctively grinded against his fingers.

“Have you always been this wet in front of me?” He whispered.

You shamefully looked down. You didn’t want to answer him, why should you when he already knew?

“Dad? Are you in there? Where’s-” You heard Harry’s voice from inside the living room.

“Yeah, she’s right here in the kitchen with me! Don’t come in yet! We’re both making a surprise breakfast for you!” James hurriedly interrupted him.

Really? You thought as you rolled your eyes. If things were to get more out of control, you’d be on your way to making a surprise baby.

You bit your lip as James slid his finger inside and curled them upwards hitting that deep spot within you that you couldn’t reach as well with your own shorter fingers. With his thumb, he rubbed tight circles around your clit, making your legs want to give out from underneath you. You didn’t know which of those two spots he was touching you felt better.

“Okay. Should I go wait in my room?” You almost forgot Harry was still there. What kind of game was James playing with you, talking to his son so casually as if he wasn’t doing something dirty with you?

“Yeah, we’ll call you over when we’re done!” James shouted. You let out an exhale as you heard Harry’s footsteps rush upstairs.

“Just look at you. My sweet, perfect little doll.” James’ eyes followed the fingers on his hand that weren’t buried in your cunt up and down your body. “Can I look at these?” He softly cupped his other hand under your breast making sure to give them a gentle squeeze.

You breathlessly nodded and tensed under his touch as he used his index finger to slide the robe off both of your shoulders. You felt your nipples harden into peaks at both the sudden air and James’ hungry gaze on them.

Your eyes slid shut as his lips left a trail of kisses that started from between your breasts and ended at the side of your neck where he started sucking on the sensitive skin. The harder James was sucking on that one area, the harder it became for you to hide your whimpers. With each pump of his fingers inside of you combined with the pleasure he was giving you on your neck, you felt your body getting closer towards the edge of something until you couldn’t hold on anymore. You couldn’t control your hips as they thrust themselves onto his hand. Your panting was shaking your body just as violently as did your orgasm.

“Oh, James.” You quietly whimpered into his ear as your hands found their way to his messy hair.

“Doesn’t it feel good?” His soft voice replied back.

“Feels so… good.” You pushed the sentence out of you as the last remaining trembles from your orgasm left your body along with James’ fingers.

“James!” You suddenly exclaimed, remembering. “Breakfast!”

“I know, I didn’t forget.” A smile broke out on his face.

He continued to look at you like you were the most perfect thing he’d seen as he helped put your robe back onto your shoulders and clean you up with a towel.

You were still blushing and avoiding eye contact with him while you were helping him in the kitchen, but that didn’t stop him from gently caressing any part of your body he could from behind you every few minutes.

You gasped every time his face would find the crook of your neck or his hands that would wrap around your waist.

Soon, James left to go knock on Harry’s bedroom door to let him know breakfast was ready while you stayed behind to get the table ready.

James came back (with a shirt on unfortunately) with Harry running like a little kid in front of him, dressed in jeans and a hoodie.

“I’m starving!” Harry shouted excitedly, eyeing his plate. You laughed at him, glad to see his energetic old self that you missed.

You and Harry mostly spent the rest of breakfast catching up some more, before he told you he’d leave soon to go to the Weasleys’ for the actual party they were throwing him where the rest of his friends would be.

James sat across from you while you sat next to Harry at the table like how it used to be.

“What happened to your neck?” You and James froze upon seeing Harry point to the bruise that was the same color as the jelly on his plate.

“I…tripped.” You promptly used your hair to cover up the area so that Harry wouldn’t have enough time to inspect it.

“You need to be more careful next time. The corners of the tables can be quite sharp.” James chided you gently as if he wasn’t the one that caused this.

“Oh. Funny how I didn’t hear you screaming earlier.” Harry shrugged. “You should put some ice on it.”

“Well you know she’s in Auror training and she’s been learning how to keep quiet.” James said with emphasis on the last two words with a sly look in your direction. He then got up to walk to the freezer.

He returned a moment later with an ice cube wrapped around a paper towel. You felt a spark where your fingers touched his as he handed it over to you, almost convincing you to put it over your reddening cheeks instead.

After the three of you had finished breakfast and Harry had disapparated out of the living room, it was you and James alone.

“Do you need me to help you wash dishes?” You asked awkwardly, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “I can stay here and help. I got the day off today.”

“Or you could wait for me in my bedroom.” James murmured as he sneakily slid his thumbs up your thighs. “You could help me in there.”

“Deal.” You got on your tiptoes and gave his cheek a quick kiss before departing for his bedroom.

As you came up in front of the door to James’ bedroom, your hands started to shake as you pushed it open. In all the time you spent there, this was the only room in the house you had never stepped foot in. You were starting to feel awkward, knowing this used to be Lily’s room too, and the bed that was in the middle of the room was most likely the same bed that she shared with James too.

You started to feel anxious with all these thoughts that popped in your mind like, “What if James is just using me as a distraction to help him get over Lily?” “Does James want me to replace her?” “Would I be insulting Lily’s memory if I slept with her husband on the same bed as her after everything she’s done for me?”

As for what you thought about James, you didn’t want to use him as someone to just sleep around with. You didn’t ever want to replace Lily. She was a completely different person from you. That was it. She was a person with thoughts and feelings, not some object with mass-produced replicas. You didn’t know how to answer that last question you asked yourself internally.

You walked over to the bed, taking the time to run your fingers over the soft blanket that covered the bed. You then took in the rest of the room. You watched the tree in front of the window shade the room from the full sunlight, giving the white walls and floor the illusion of a blue-ish gray undertone. You noticed that unlike the rest of the house, there was an absence of pictures. You assumed it was so that James wouldn’t be reminded of the pain of losing his wife as he was trying to go to sleep. Besides the bed, the only furniture there was were the drawers, a vanity, and a desk with a chair. The only two doors besides the entrance were what looked to be the master bathroom and the closet.

Although you and James had known each other for years, you didn’t feel right to go and snoop around his stuff. But he did snoop around your mind. Is that any different? That still wasn’t a good enough excuse for you to go through his physical stuff.

You instead elected to take a seat on the foot of the bed with your legs crossed, your mind spacing out over to the tree by the window.

“I hope someone didn’t start without me.” James’ voice snapped you out of your thoughts. He was leaning on the doorframe, his glasses and side-smile leaning with him.

You shyly turned away as he took a seat next to you on the bed.

“You’re so pretty.” James said as he twirled a strand of your hair around his finger. “What’s wrong?”

He gently cupped your face with his other hand, turning you towards his direction. You nervously looked down to where your lips were nearly touching.

“Do you actually want to do this with me? Am I just a distraction for you?” You whispered the last sentence. You couldn’t bring yourself to mention Lily directly.

“No, Sweetheart. You’re so much better than that.” James brought one of your hands to his lips and kissed the back of it.

At that moment, James wanted you all to himself. He knew there would be consequences later if that happened. He could give you a choice to either sneak around with you behind his son’s back or go public with everyone else about your relationship and face the risk of shame. That was if you wanted it as much as he did, which he knew you did, but were you willing to give in and go that far? Would you change your mind?

And Harry? So what if he had a crush on you? You weren’t ever going to go for him anyways. James was the one who got what he wanted, not him. Not everyone gets what they want in life. Damn, he was thinking selfishly, so unlike how a father should.

No matter how happy or sad you looked, James couldn’t stop thinking of how gorgeous everything about you was, your eyes, your soft lips, the way your hair fell and framed your face, the blush on your cheeks that was as potent as the flame in his heart, it was like you were pulling him in without trying as his lips automatically found its way to yours.

As he got a taste of you, he knew he was instantly addicted. Just the taste of your lips wasn’t enough for him. He needed to hold your body close to him, so he wrapped his arm around you and grabbed one of your legs and put it over him, making you sit on his lap, facing him.

If he hadn’t required air to be alive, he didn’t think he’d ever be able to let go of you. The both of you were left panting as you got a look at each other.

“Take this off.” He pleaded, tugging at the string of your robe.

As soon as you took your satin robe off, he wasted no time in flipping you over onto your back, making your hair spill out below you and knocking the air out of you.

“I can finally have this beautiful body all to myself.” You mewled as his thumb flicked over the hardened bud on your breast.

“Aren’t you just deliciously adorable?” James let a filthy smirk grow on his face as he squeezed your breast and attached his mouth to your nipple, sucking on it. “I can’t wait to taste the rest of you.”

You started to squirm more and more under him with each lick on your nipple until you couldn’t control your whimpering.

“It’s okay, Baby. You don’t need to hold back.” James cooed.

He got up from where he was above you. He yanked his white t-shirt over his head before he pulled down his sweatpants, revealing the outline of his erection in his boxers to you.

“Do you want to feel it?” James took a hold of your smaller hand. Sitting up, you bit your lip and nodded.

“It’s so…big.” The way your voice sounded so innocent like you were discovering something fascinating only made the hardness of his erection more painful. James sucked in a breath as your hand gave him a gentle squeeze.

“Fuck, open your legs.” He commanded urgently.

When you were too distracted by studying the dimensions of his cock to respond, James took matters into his own hands by jamming both hands between your knees to pry them apart.

The sight of your glistening arousal in front of him was a reward in itself. But he couldn’t stop there.

“I already made you cum today and you’re still wet for more. You’re such a greedy little slut.” James purred deeply. “How about this? You use those pretty lips to suck me off while you touch yourself.”

Your big doe eyes only widened at him as your mouth hung open. Just that look on your face only made James want to cum even more.

“Come on, Babydoll,” He reveled in how nervous and tiny he was making you feel. “Don’t be shy. I know you touch yourself while thinking about me. And now, I’m right here.”

He took your hand off his cock. He could feel your eyes studying his movements as he hooked his fingers under the waistband of his boxers and pulled it down, making his dick spring out in front of your face.

“Get on your knees.” He easily pulled your smaller body off the bed and onto the floor, while he took his seat where you were.

There you were, naked in front of him, on your knees, staring up at his cock, like you were worshiping it.

James could feel your hesitation as your fingers reached out over the tip.

“You wanna taste it?” James brushed his fingers through your hair, attempting to relax you. You nodded. “Why don’t you ask?”

“C-Can I taste it, please?” How could he ever deny you, especially with you asking him so innocently and politely?

“Of course.” He couldn’t take his eyes off yours as you continued looking up at him while letting his cock slip past your lips. You then reached your hand down between your legs, touching yourself just as he had instructed.

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing with his eyes. You were there, really sucking his cock, making the dirty fantasies that had been manifesting inside him come true.

“Fuck, that’s it Baby.” James grunted as he pushed your head down on his cock. “You’re doing so well. You’re so perfect.”

When your wet tongue hit the vein on the underside, James let a string of curses erupt out of him. That seemed to encourage you to keep going as you wrapped your free hand around the base and pumped it in sync with your mouth.

A little while later, James could feel himself getting closer to cumming when his body tensed up.

“Keep going, Baby! Good job!” He kept praising you breathlessly as he stroked your cheek.

He finally felt his cum spill into your mouth as you swallowed it, some of it still spilling down your chin.

“Fuck,” James sighed as he gathered his cum that was on your chin with his thumb and pushed it into your mouth. He felt his gaze darken as you greedily sucked and licked the entire thing. “You’ve been such a good girl. Let me make it up to you.”

James pulled you off the floor and into his body, holding you close to him as he inhaled the scent of your perfume.

As you let the heat of James’ body wrap around you, he flipped you over so that you were on your back again. Glasses or no glasses, he was the most handsome man you’d seen in your life. You no longer gave a damn that he was almost old enough to be your father. Maybe you did have a type. He had made you feel like you were the most special girl in the entire world, and you never wanted to stop feeling that way.

“Hold onto me, okay? I’m going to make you feel good. Don’t you want that?” James asked as he kissed you under your jaw, making you whimper at the pleasure he was imposing on the sensitive area.

“Yeah I want your cock deep in my pussy.” James seemed surprised at the uncharacteristic filth that came out of you to which he raised his eyebrows.

“Fuck, I didn’t think you had such a filthy mouth to go with that innocent face.” James said as he brought his lips onto yours.

As he did so, you felt something against your entrance, presumably the tip of James’ cock. He wiggled around some more until he had finally coated his cock in the slickness of your walls.

“Are you alright?” James rubbed his thumb against the apple of your cheek.

You nodded as you bit your lip. You just needed a little time to adjust to him. His cock was longer and wider than anything you ever inserted into yourself. But he filled you up in the best way possible better than your fingers or even the handle of your hairbrush could.

“It feels so good James.” You were panting as you grabbed a hold of his shoulders. Another scream left you as James’ finger rubbed your clit, adding more pleasure to your cunt.

“I want you to cum for me, Beautiful.” James grunted as he continued to thrust his cock deep into you, making you whimper and moan under him.

You were now getting addicted to the full feeling of James’ cock inside you along with the stimulation on your clit. Your head was starting to feel like it was floating on clouds. In your cock-drunk state, you kept moaning James’ name and telling him how good he was making you feel, just how you did in your countless sex dreams about him.

You couldn’t believe this was real, and it was happening to you.

“James! James! Fuck! I’m so… so close.” You sobbed into his shoulder.

“I got you Baby.” He cooed.

“Feels so big and good…” You continued moaning sentences until it turned into incoherent mumbles.

The full feeling of James’ cock combined with the intense tingling on your clit had your walls squeezing around him soon. You started screaming James’ name again through your orgasm that flooded through you.

“Fucking hell!” He suddenly grabbed your hips, and looked at you as if something came over him.

He then pulled his cock out in the middle of your orgasm. He was kneeling above your spent body with his hard cock in his hand that was still coated in your juices.

With a couple strokes, you felt the warm liquid drip down onto your tits and your stomach. You were now painted with James’ cum, and he was the artist admiring his work.

Both of you took deep breaths as you looked at each other while coming down from your highs.

As soon as James had recovered, he got up and ran his hands through his messy hair. You were too tired to sit up, so you could only watch as he put on his boxers before he went into the master bathroom. You heard the water running, and not long after, James had returned with a towel in his hand.

“How do you feel?” He asked gently as he wiped the towel across where his cum was on your body.

“A little tired.” You sighed. James rubbed the towel in circular motions on your breasts, effectively massaging them. After he cleaned you up, he discarded the towel onto the nightstand.

“Come over here, Beautiful.” James opened his arms up and you rolled into his embrace. You closed your eyes as he pressed faint kisses on the back of your naked shoulder, making you shiver.

You were scared, but also excited to see what your future would look like with James.