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#the last time I fell in love with a character like this I was barely a teen
armxnh · 5 months
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i know we just met, but i love you
synopsis: love at first sight with the tokyo revengers men.
characters: manjiro 'mikey' sano, takashi mitsuya, chifuyu matsuno
genre: fluff
warnings: none (i think...?)
masterlist.
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manjiro 'mikey' sano
"ken-chinnnn" the leader of the toman whined at his taller friend. draken rolled his eyes in response, "no mikey, drop it."
"come onnnn-" the said man pouted exaggeratedly, "what did i do wrong?"
"nothing." the delinquent replied taking his wallet out of the pocket of his jacket, "you just don't need to eat twenty-five taiyaki."
"sorry to bother you but there are a lot of people who are waiting take their orders so if you could-" daiki, as it was written on his name tag, tried to cut them off from behind the counter.
for the past ten minutes, the two delinquents were arguing about their order. draken wanted to buy mikey five taiyaki, while mikey wanted his friend to buy him twenty-five of them.
draken turned his head to the cashier, "yeah, so five taiyaki and-"
"twenty-five taiyaki." "damn you-"
"hurry up! unlike other people, some of us have important things to do!" a customer yelled from the back of the line.
manjiro snapped his head to the back of the line, narrowing his eyes at the older man who had just yelled at him. "see now you're making people angry, mikey. 'm not gonna spend ¥5,272 on snacks."
"i need to eat a lot if i want to be taller!"
"for the last time. you won't get taller! you are at your maximum height!"
"alright! i'm not going through this again." a soft voice cut both of them before they could start the same argument they had 2 minutes ago. "daiki, i'll pay for their order- just make his goddamn snacks, please."
when manjiro turned to look at the person who 'saved his life', he felt like he has just died and miraculously came back to life as he made eye contact with you.
you were... pretty.
his eyes were set on you, taking in every single detail he could as if he was scared to forget how you look the second he'll look away.
"thank you, but that's not necessary!" draken politely thanked you as you grabbed your fidelity card of the small shop.
"don't worry about it! after all, those fidelity points have to be used for something." you waved him off, looking back at daiki, "could you also add my regular oder with that, please daiki?"
"o-of course, (y/n)!" the young worker quickly tapped your oder in the computer, a red hue covering his cheeks when you smiled at him.
"mikey, what do you say?" draken looked at his friend, hinting him to thank you, but his words fell into deaf ears as mikey kept looking at you like you hung the moon and stars in the sky.
"mikey?" He nudged the said man's shoulder trying to snap him out of his thoughts, only to be ignored once more.
the tall blond dropped the smile as he turned to his friend hitting the side of his head, finally snapping him out of his thoughts, "mikey!"
"um? what?" mikey barely glanced at draken when he responded, his heartbeat increasing when you looked back at him with your receipt in hand.
"i said, what do you say to the girl who just bought you your snacks?" he replied, glancing between the two of you clearly wondering why his friend was acting weird all of the sudden.
"marry me."
ken ryuguji never whipped his head to look at his friend so fast in his life. What the hell did he just said?!
you felt your face warm up at his words, chuckling as you walk past him, placing your hand on his shoulder, "do you ask every girl who buys you snacks to marry you?"
manjiro felt like he was in heaven when you stood closer to him. how can someone be so pretty and be so nice and smell so good and be so pretty at the same time.
"what?" toman's leader came back down to earth when you handed him the box filled of taiyaki. "did i say that out loud?" manjiro mumbled, frowning to himself. before looking back at you, just to see you making your way outside. "hey- wait!"
he tossed the snacks at draken jogging to meet you outside of the shop. "w-wait!"
you turned to look at him, the soft summer breeze sweating through your hair, leaving your face completely out in the open, "yes?"
"you're (y/n), right?" he asked remembering how the cashier called you when you were ordering, "i'm mikey..." he wanted to say something else but the words got caught in his throat when you smiled at him.
"nice to meet you, mikey" you replied before your eyes drifted behind him to the small group of guys that were looking at the two of you intensely, the 'ken-chin' guy from earlier standing with them. "i think your friends are waiting for you"
manjiro glanced back to see his best friends looking at them with knowing looks on their faces, "never mind them- this is- you are more important."
you looked away from him, his intense eye contact making your face feel warm, "you really know how to talk to girls you know?"
"thank you for earlier... the snacks and all..."
"that was 2 months worth of fidelity points- you better eat every single one of those taiyaki" you playfully warned the gang leader.
"don't worry about that..!" mikey replied knowing damn well that he will inhale those snacks. "can i walk you home? it's going to get dark soon- wouldn't want my wife to get attacked or something!"
wife?!
you suppress a smile at his words, "of course, wouldn't want it to get dark at 2 pm, and then get attacked by who knows what next to a bakery."
"exactly! let's go, wifey!"
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takashi mitsuya
"what did you say you're brother's name was?" you asked the crying girl in front of you.
"...t- taka-shi" the small girl sobbed in your shoulder as you gently patted her head.
"alright and what's your name?" you gently asked as you scanned the area trying to find someone who looked like they had just lost their child.
"i- i- i'm mana"
"you have a really pretty name, you know?" you smiled fondly at the girl as you whipped the tears of her face with your thumbs.
"really?"
"heck yeah! it's a badass name!" you felt relief wash over you when you saw a smile spread across the kid's face, "i'm (y/n) and i'm gonna help you find your brother alright?"
"thank you..." she mumbled quietly.
"you're going to hop on my shoulders and tell me when you see your brother okay?" the girl looked up at you with stars in her eyes, you pulled mana on your shoulder, her small hands on your head.
you walked for a good 15 minutes before mana tapped your head with on hand while the other pointed toward an unknown man in the crowd of person, "they're there! that's draken!"
draken? wasn't her brother's name takashi? you wondered as you put mana to the ground your hand grabbing hers just in case she got lost again.
"mana!" a little girl's voice called out as you arrived next to the very tall guy with a dragon tattoo on his head. the small girl that looked very similar to mana hugged tightly the younger girl.
"mitsuya! ' found her" the tall guy called out for someone else behind him. the 'mitsuya' guy appeared from behind the 'draken' guy not long after he called out from him. the purple haired teen practically attacked his sister with a hug, sighing in relief.
"don't ever do that again, mana." he gently scaled his younger sister, "you could've gotten lost and we would've been really sad, al-?"
"it's fine! (y/n) helped me find you!" she pointed her finger at her. mitsuya ruffled his sister's hair, before straightening up to thank the person that help his mini-him, "thank you so mu..."
he felt like the world had stopped moving. like it was only the two of them in the middle of the festival. takashi mitsuya was in a trance. he was simply mesmerized by the sight of you.
"it's no problem, really! " you softly smiled at him, "your sister is a real angel-"
anything else you said after wasn't even registered but the delinquent in front of you. he was usually so good at this- talking to people was what he did best so... why couldn't he utter a single word for you.
his cheeks were red, his palm were sweaty, why was he anxious?- he was hanging on everything you did. even if he felt like he had forgotten how to speak, your voice felt like melody to his ears.
he snapped out of his trance when someone nudge his shoulder. mitsuya glanced at draken beside him, suddenly remembering that they weren't alone and that you were talking to him.
you looked at him with a puzzled look, "are you alright?
your question made him overthink about everything that happened in the last 2 minutes of your meeting. Did he look like a creep?
"i- i- great."
the hell was that takashi? he cursed himself.
darken cleared his throat, holding back his laugh. he brought his fist to his mouth faking coughs as he muttered a small, "real smooth, mitsuya".
you chuckled at his friend's comment, making mitsuya straighten up, you pulled out your hand for him to shake.
"let's start over, alright? i'm (y/n)... you're takashi right?"
draken stepped up clearly expecting his friend to be to lost in space to answer you, "he prefers mitsuya-"
"takashi's fine!" the said man interjected, as he quickly grabbed your hand to shake it, sending one of his pretty smile in your direction.
"i-"
"are you going to marry my brother?" he couldn't catch a break could he? luna asked you with big eyes.
you chuckled softly at her words, "how about this... i will give my number to your brother. then we'll go out to eat something to talk about marriage alright?"
"yes!" the girl tightly hugged your leg as you said that.
"does that sound like a plan to you, takashi?" yes!
mitsuya hurriedly started to look in his pocket for a pen, when draken pulled one out of his pocket with a piece of paper and handed it to the purple haired boy, "there you go, casanova"
takashi handed you the paper and the pen, before you wrote your name with your phone number on it.
"see y'a soon, taka! bye, mana don't get lost again alright?"
as soon as you were out of sight takashi turned to draken with a stern look, "not a word about this, alright?"
"you're crazy!" draken crackled putting his hand in his pocket, "i'm going to tell everyone!"
"draken!"
"as your wingman i feel like it's my responsibility-"
"no it is not!"
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chifuyu matsuno
"hurry up, chifuyu!" takemichi yelled at his friend. they couldn't be late. not for that.
"how come you are slow as hell during a fight, yet you sprint your life on a sunday at 8 am?" the blond joked as he calmly walked behind takemichi with not a care in the world.
"come on! we're gonna be late!" he repeated hurriedly before stopping abruptly while looking around him.
"late to what?" chifuyu yawned, before looking at his friend, who stood there looking around, up and down as if his brain had finally snapped, "you alright?"
"alright stand here and don't move." takemichi moved the delinquent around so that he would stand in the middle of a park- an empty park.
"did you finally snapped or...?" he asked when the time traveler started to back away from him, "are you going to kill me? is this really how it's gonna end-"
"watch out!"
a voice yelled, but it was too late.
a ball directly hit his face, knocking chifuyu to the dirty ground, his eyes closing due to the shock.
it took him a couple of seconds before finally opening his eyes again, only to realize that he was in heaven. the prettiest girl he had ever seen in his life held his head in her hands, her index and middle finger pressed against the front of his neck just below his jaw- making sure that his heart was still beating.
"oh- thank god! you're not dead!"
"are you an angel?" chifuyu mumbled placing his hand on top of yours- making sure you were real, "am i in heaven?"
you let a breathy chuckle at his words, "you're cute- but no you're not dead... i kicked a ball in your face- unintentionally of course!"
his eyes finally focused on you, remembering what had happened. he blinked a couple of time, his eyes scanning your face- a pretty girl's face... so close to his face with her hands on his face and his hands on her hand-
what?!
chifuyu's face became as red a tomato straitening his posture to apologize for touching you without your authorization, "i'm so sorry-"
his head came in contact with your head, making you pull back immediately from the blond. "ow! i told you i didn't do it on purpose!" you groan holding your head with your hands.
chifuyu gasped in horror at his own clumsiness as he placed a hand on the back of your head. hopping that the coldness of it would help you a little, "i'm sorry! i swear i didn't mean it! please hit me again so that we're even!"
...what? now why would he say that?
"what? what's wrong with you?! do you get turn on by getting hit or something?!"
chifuyu panically looked around to search takemichi so that he could help him. when he finally spotted him, hiding behind the swings, the time traveler was smiling proudly with his two thumbs up in the air.
his action making him recall a conversation the two of them had a couple of weeks earlier.
"so... am i married in the future?" chifuyu asked takemichi as he bit down the sandwich he made himself for lunch.
takemichi raised his brows at the question, "yeah-"
"really?!" the blond gasped, with heart in his eyes, "do i know her?! no wait- that'll ruin the surprise- is she pretty?! no wait- of course she's pretty you idiot!"
the time traveler chuckled at his friend's words, rubbing the back of his neck, "do you want me to tell you how you met?"
"no! it has to be a surprise!" chifuyu refused, "wait am i going to meet her soon? is that why you said that?! takemichi?! answer!"
"nah- like you said it has to be a surprise~"
"takemichi!"
"if it makes you feel better- you embarrassed yourself in front of her"
"how would that make me feel better?!"
that sneaky bastard.
"i'm sorry! i don't know how to talk to pretty girls..." chifuyu mumbled looking to the ground, but his face snapped back at you when he realize what he had just say, your eyes round at his words, "i- i mean not that don't know how to talk you! wait- not that you're not pretty! you are pretty- beautiful even! but that is not the point! i don't need you to hit me! just please don't think i hurt you on purpose- i don't hit pretty girls! no wait- i don't hit girls at all! but you being beautifully-pretty is just a plus you know! an-"
you smacked your hand on his mouth, stopping his rambling, the butterflies in your stomach flying way to much due to his words. "please stop-! you're too cute..."
takemichi titled his head at the scene in front of him, clearly not remembering that part of the story your older self told him in the future about how chifuyu and her had met-
but... mission failed successfully... i guess?
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ⓒarmxnh
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itsmebytch001 · 3 months
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PILOT:
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Angel had noticed Alastor had barley moved from his frozen stance awaiting by the door like a statue looking off into the distance clutching his staff with an unusually tight grip.
Angel: "Hey Husk, what's got Al all frozen like that?"
Husk looked up from his rag shining his glass and glanced over to Alastor still frozen and unblinking.
Husk: "Ugh, His kids coming to visit, they don't see each other often but whenever they do see each other, Al makes a whole big thing of it, stressin me out" He grumped out.
Angel: "His daughter? How is that possible? Ain't me like, Asexual or something? How you gonna have a kid if you won't bone?"
Husk: "I dunno, maybe she's adopted, she got his eye's though"
Angel: "Huh, so you've met her?"
Husk: "A couple times"
Angel: "Is she like him...with the radio and the tentacles?"
Niffty: "Nah"
Angel: "Ah! Niff Jesus we gotta but a bell on ya, you can't just run up on a guy like that jeez"
Niffty: "She's more into modern tech, and no tentacles, none that Ive seen" She said caressing her knife slowly.
Angel: "aha, well why she coming in now? it's been like five month's I ain't never heard him talk about her"
Husk: "No idea, last I heard they fell out after she brought a TV"
Niffty: "The guy hates Tech" She said, scratching her knife into the wooden table front of the bar.
*knock Knock*
Alastor's already strained smile expanded to reach his eyes as he strides to the door swiftly opening the door to reveal...
Alastor: "Y/N! So very good to see you my dear, Oh how I've missed you" He said pulling her in to the foyer in a tight, unnatural embrace , Angel leered over to get a proper look at her, from across the room little could be seen her face squashed into her fathers torso as she pushed herself away he squinted to look at her face, and indeed he did have his eyes, but little else, except the yellow teeth.
Y/n: "Good to see you to Dad, I've missed you too i guess" She said under her breath.
Alastor's eye twitched, you had just walked in the door and already you are testing him.
Alastor: "I heard that My love, keep your snide little comments to yourself, m'kay?" He asked, snapping his neck to the left.
Alastor: "Chum's! come greet my dear Y/n won't you?!" He bellowed pushing you towards the bar by the small of your back.
Y/n: "Dad, I already know Niff and Husk I-"
Alastor: "OH! but you haven't met Angel Dust, oh he's such a character" He said practically shoving you onto a stool across from Angel.
Y/n: "Hey Husk"
Husk: "Hey Y/n...you want me to make you something?"
Y/n: "Yeah, Gin and Tonic please" You said slumped over the bar.
Alastor: "She'll take a strawberry lemonade"
Y/n: "Dad I'm too old for thi-"
Alastor: "She'll take a strawberry Lemonade" He said again sternly looking you in the eye.
Alastor: "Now my Dear, where oh where are you belongings'?"
Y/n: "Just outside the door" You answered as Husk poured you a Strawberry Lemonade passing it over to you.
Alastor: "Good good, Husk go take them to Y/n's room won't you?"
Husk: "I'm a bartender not a bags boy Al"
Alastor: " I said go get her bags"
Husk lowly exhaled and dragged his sorry self towards the door.
Alastor: "right well, Angel this is my daughter Y/n"
Angel: "Daughter aye? And how exactly did that happen?"
Alastor: "Why what ever do you mean dear Angel?"
Angel: "Ain't you asexual? Can't exactly have a kid if you ain't boned someone"
Alastor: "Oh! well I made her of course"
Angel: "What?"
Y/n: "He made me, as a precaution"
Alastor: "Oh no dear we've been over this, I made you because I wanted to raise you"
Y/n: "Uh huh"
Angel: "Wait wait, I'm confused did you make her as like, a Frankenstein while you were alive or like..?"
Alastor: "No no, I bared no children when I was alive I made her down here"
Angel: "Okay but HOW?"
Alastor: "with some gold dust, an old voodoo doll and a rib of mine. It doesn't hurt to to supplied with a sum of power and magic of course"
Angel: "...uh huh" he watched as Husk dragged your bags up the stairs.
Alastor: "And my lovley creation will be staying with us for some times"
Y/n: "A month, that's all"
Alastor: "Oh a whole month! we have so much catching up too do, shame you won't ever answer any of my messages"
Y/n: "maybe I would if it weren't in the form of a telegram!"
Alastor: "Oh you young people, with your phones and TV's, whatever happnded to radio"
Y/n: "oh god please don't start" He patted your head as you slumped even further down the bar.
Alastor: "Yes well, while you chat with Angel I'll be sure to arrange the others I'm sure they'll be dying to meet you"
Y/n: "Yeah, okay Dad" you said dismissively sipping on your straw, Alastor of course saw this as his body tensed forcing himself to walk off following Husk up the stairs to corral the other tenants.
Angel: "So, Toot's you don't seem all that happy to see your pop's why is that?"
Y/n: "I didn't want to come here, It's just till extermination day since that dates been moved up"
Angel: "Oh, so your coming here for safety? well this place get's attacked every other week so I'm not sure if that's a great idea"
Y/n: "Oh no, I don't want to be here, It's just my Dad is convinced my place isn't safe enough, and he goes on about how we barley chat (mainly because he refuses to get a phone) and like 'how would I know if you were slain, am I just supposed to go looking for you sliced corpse' and besdies it's not like I have a choice so here I am, until the end of this month and then I'll finally go home again and not talk to the fucker for another seven years"
Angel: "Damm, if you hate the guy so much why not just not come, technically your Hell born so I'm sure you could leave the city, go on down somewhere like Pride, or Lust he can't come dragging you back"
Y/n: "Oh, but he can"
Angel: "How? Guy can't leave the ring"
Y/n: "You've seen that keyring of that little doll on his staff?"
Angel: "Yeah?"
Y/n: "That's me. He shakes that thing a couple times and BOOM and back where he wants me, coming 'voluntarily' just feel's less shit I guess"
Angel:" Oh...Damm" he looked over around the bar awkwardly tapping his foot waiting for Al to come back while you sipped on your god damm strawberry Lemonade.
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Pt 2 anyone?
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valeskafics · 3 months
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"Your Place" - Aemond Targaryen x Cousin!Reader
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a/n: from an anon request for daemon/rhea's daughter being seduced to the greens' side by aemond! i hope you like it nonnie, this was a fun one to write and i'm quite proud of it 🩷
Summary: After several years apart, Aemond comes to Runestone to convince you to take your place at his side.
TW: canon typical incest, profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, mentions of toxic family relationships (reader resents daemon), mentions of murder (daemon killing rhea), idk reader's kinda a hater in this sorry, oral f receiving, fingering, p in v sex, breeding kink
Word Count: 3,000 words
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷
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Runestone is a vital tactical ally. At least, that’s the story Aemond spins to his brother before he takes to the skies atop Vhagar, heading for the Vale. House Royce is a noble, proud house. One of the most powerful in the Vale, second only to House Arryn. It is not a complete lie that gaining their allegiance would be beneficial to the Greens.
Aemond just leaves out the true reason he wishes to visit Runestone.
Its lady.
You, Lady Targaryen, the only daughter of Lady Rhea Royce and Aemond’s uncle, Prince Daemon Targaryen. Since your father harbored no love for your mother, his indifference extended to you. The last time Aemond saw you was that day when he claimed Vhagar, when he lost his eye. It was at Lady Laena’s funeral. 
You had walked up beside him, your face eerily calm as you remarked, “It’s quite a shame, my father’s luck in marriage. Perhaps the next one might survive. Don’t they say the third time’s the charm?”
Aemond had barely resisted the urge to laugh at your dark sense of humor. You were two years his senior, four and ten while he was a mere two and ten. You were graceful, beautiful. And he fell for you instantly. He knew that no matter what happened, no matter who your father was, one day he would marry you.
You did not go to Dragonstone with your father after he wed Rhaenyra. You, instead, went to Runestone, where your uncle had been serving as Lord Regent in your stead. You refused to live with your father and his third wife, stating that you had no interest in this depravity. You had no interest in a man who bedded another woman before his wife’s body was cold in the ground. You came to say goodbye to Aemond before leaving, finding him in his sickbed, a bandage wrapped around where his eye used to be. You pressed a chaste kiss to his forehead, apologizing for all that happened. Stating that you wished you had been there to put a stop to all of this.
And you congratulated him on claiming Vhagar before leaving. You harbored no ill will toward him for “stealing” your sister’s dragon. Your attitude made Aemond wonder if you truly cared for your sisters at all. He watched you walk away from him, toward the ship that waited to whisk you away to your mother’s ancestral home. He stared out the window as you sailed away, yet again promising himself that once he was a man worthy of you, he would find you and make you his.
His wife, his princess, his love.
You were by far the most impressive woman he’d ever met in his life, and so he decided to make himself an impressive man in turn. He practiced swordplay three hours a day, learned the language of his ancestors, studied history and philosophy extensively. And, of course, mastered the art of riding on horseback. From what he has heard, you spend hours riding atop your mare, apparently because of how close it makes you feel to your mother. There’s something so beautifully tragic about that, he thinks. And it endears you to him all the more. He falls in love with you even more with every new thing he learns about you.
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It is late in the afternoon when Runestone comes into sight, and Vhagar lets out a mighty roar as she begins to descend from the clouds, allowing her rider to climb off her back before taking to the skies once more, ready to return at Aemond’s behest. He walks toward your keep, his boots clicking on the stone path as he walks. He can feel his heart in his throat with every step he takes closer to you, praying to the Smith to give strength so that he may not waver in his confidence before you.
He sees you, sitting atop your mare, your hair whipping in the wind, a steed waiting for him as well. How very thoughtful of you. Aemond bows as he approaches you. You are even more beautiful than you were when he saw you last. The dress you wear, one of Myrish lace and Dornish silk, clings to your figure, your curves now that of a woman’s. Your hair has grown longer and there is a calm about you that was not there when you were at your father’s side.
You have become your own woman, graceful and beautiful like all said your mother was. Aemond falls deeper in love than ever before as he gazes up at you.
“Cousin.”
Your voice is just as he remembers, gentle yet firm, that of a woman who knows what she’s doing.
Aemond smiles, “I see that my cousin has matured greatly.”
You nod, watching him as he climbs atop the stallion beside you, “I have indeed. The last time we saw each other was at my stepmother’s funeral, I believe?”
“Yes,” he replies, the two of you beginning your ride toward the keep, “It would seem, as you said, your father’s luck in marriage improved with the third time.”
“Indeed,” you say, and he can see the beginnings of a smile curling on your lips as you question, “But I am sure you’re not here to discuss matters of my father’s ill-fated marriages. Why have you come to Runestone, cousin?”
Aemond presses his lips together, turning to face you completely before questioning, “I wish to ask where your allegiance lies in this coming war, cousin. Who will House Royce fight for?”
“Runestone remains neutral,” you tell him calmly, “As I told Jacaerys who arrived here not one fortnight before you on his way to Winterfell. We will not be dragged into a war that has nothing to do with us.”
“So you’d stand aside and allow Rhaenyra to usurp my brother’s birthright?”
“You forget that she’s my stepmother,” you comment dryly, the sarcasm in your voice making Aemond smile. You haven’t changed a bit. He admires the side profile of your face as you stare straight ahead, nearly at the castle now, “That my father fights at her side. You’d ask me to turn against my own father, cousin?”
Aemond’s gaze moves to your lips, so soft and so ripe for kissing, his mind running wild as he imagines stopping the horses here and now, hauling you off somewhere to have his way with you. To have you underneath him, crying out his name in ecstasy.
“You’ve outgrown your father. His decisions were never wise. All he brought upon the Realm was chaos.”
You scoff, “I do not argue with that. You know that I have no love for my father. It is an ill-kept secret that my mother died at his hand. But still, I will not have Runestone dragged into this foolishness.”
Aemond chuckles as the two of you hop off of your mounts, taking a step toward you, resting a finger beneath your chin as he tilts your face up toward him, his blue eye boring into yours, flickering back to your lips for a brief moment before he asks, “And what of me, cousin? Have I done something to anger you, Lady Targaryen? I only ask for a fair chance to convince the Lady of Runestone to stand on the proper side of this conflict. Perhaps even as a princess, my bride.”
“You forget that I am betrothed, cousin,” you inform him sharply, “Your honeyed words won’t sway me.”
Aemond is not yet deterred. He is still determined to win you over, the feeling of being near you again driving him to madness.
“I’m sure your betrothed would understand that a lady of your grace, your beauty is better suited as a match for the king’s own brother.”
It drives him mad, not knowing if his presence affects you when he rests his hands on your waist, squeezing gently as he presses his body against your own. He needs some indication that you’re enjoying this, that you like the fact that his cock is hard from the mere sight of you, that his thoughts are consumed only by you, that his heart only belongs to you.
“You have traveled far. Please, allow my servants to show you to our guest chambers.”
Aemond chuckles quietly as you turn to walk away, grabbing you by the hand before you can get too far. He pulls you back to him, your back against his front. His hands move along your side, feeling the curves of your body. Aemond leans in, his lips tickling the shell of your ear as he whispers.
“Guest chambers? Why not let me spend the night in your chambers, Lady Targaryen? We are family, after all.”
You roll your eyes, wrenching yourself from his grip, staring up at him, “I remembered Aegon being this presumptuous. Not you. You were always so shy and sweet.”
Aemond feels almost like a child again in front of your scrutinizing gaze, the way you stare him down making him want nothing more than to prove himself to you. He feels his cheeks flush slightly, this back-and-forth between you only making him want you all the more.
“I have changed, sweet cousin,” he says quietly, “But please know that it is not presumptuousness. I am sincere in my affection for you.”
Your lips curl into the slightest of smiles as you turn to leave, “Get settled in. We can discuss any potential alliance at supper.”
Aemond takes a deep breath, nodding, “As you wish, cousin.”
He turns to leave, only to immediately face you once more when you call out his name. Aemond pauses, his heart racing as he wonders if he should cross the hall and kiss you now. He meets your gaze hopefully.
“Yes?”
Then, it’s as though the heavens part and an angel stands before him when you give him that soft, sweet smile of yours and say, “I’m glad to see you.”
His eye widens with surprise, staring after you as you walk away, murmuring, “I’m glad to see you too, my lady.”
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You look so beautiful, sitting across the table from him, sipping on your wine. There’s a quiet dignity about you, an effortless grace. He sees a painting of your mother hanging behind you and decides to break the silence.
“You look more like her. Your mother.”
He’s surprised when you laugh, meeting his gaze, “That might be the nicest thing you ever could have said to me.”
Aemond decides to take a chance and stands from his seat, crossing the room to kneel at your side, taking your hands in his own, “I know you are betrothed to the Tully boy. That your father has done this in hopes of keeping the Riverlands loyal to his wife. But do you truly think that he can care for you the way I would? Make you happy the way I would?”
“I don’t know the faintest thing about you, Aemond. You were a child when I saw you last-”
“A child who fell in love with you,” he declares, pulling you to your feet, his large hands caressing your face, his voice thick with desperation, “And now a man who desires nothing more than to marry you. To care for you. To love you and make you his princess. And perhaps one day, even his queen.”
You arch a brow at his words, and Aemond knows you have picked up on the implication behind his words. He has long coveted his brother’s position as the firstborn. He would not say it to anyone other than you. But he knows, for some reason, that you will not begrudge him for this. For this hatred that brews inside of him. He knows it because he’s seen it in you as well. He saw it when you watched your father doting upon your sisters at Driftmark that day, that resentment brewing.
“In truth, I believe you,” you tell him calmly, your fingers intertwining with his, “Runestone is not so important that your brother would have urged you to come. He would have sent you to the Eyrie. Not to me.”
Aemond lets out a quiet laugh, “Indeed. I came here to express my intention of wedding you. Of stealing you away from your betrothed and making you mine.”
You hum in acknowledgment, turning to face the painting of your mother, “I owe the Blacks nothing. All my father has ever given me is a lifetime’s worth of neglect and hatred. My sisters never cared for me, though their lady mother was kind enough to try and make them do so. And I know my current stepmother,” you pause before remarking sarcastically, “Or is it cousin? Does not care for me. She sees me as the obstacle that stood in the way of Daemon claiming her all those years ago. There is no place for me with them. Perhaps there is no place for me anywhere. The product of a loveless marriage between a man and a woman who utterly despised each other.”
“There is a place for you, my lady,” Aemond says firmly, “And it is by my side, and in my bed.”
You gaze up at him, the tension between the two of you growing with every passing moment. You lean in, as does he, closer and closer, your breath soft and sweet against his lips.
“And where is your place?”
“With you,” Aemond says quietly, “You and I, we were destined for each other.”
“Destined,” you repeat, resting your hands on his chest, “I choose my own destiny. I do not leave my fate in the hands of the Gods.”
“Then choose me.”
Aemond doesn’t know who leans in first. All he knows is that your lips are pressed to his, his hands tangled in your hair as he lifts you up onto the table, standing between your thighs. He has never known a feeling so intense as this, your own hands tugging at his hair as he pushes the skirt of your dress up, revealing your bare legs. Aemond drops to his knees, reveling in your look of surprise. He presses a hot-open mouthed kiss to your ankle, trailing his lips up along your leg, your thigh, before he finally reaches his intended destination. You gasp as he gives a hesitant lick at your cunt, waiting for your reaction. He stares up at you, and when you nod, he buries his face between your thighs, tongue eagerly lapping at your folds as he lifts your knees over his shoulders. Your hands grasp at the table, knuckles going white as you grit your teeth in an effort not to make too much noise.
Dissatisfied by your lack of response, Aemond increases his efforts, moving to suckle at your sensitive pearl while his fingers move to pump in and out of your cunt, the wet noises that come from you making you cry out with surprise in the throes of ecstasy. Aemond grins against your skin, feeling your body shiver as you near your peak, finally reaching it, the taste of your arousal coating his tongue, tart yet so very sweet, making him moan, his cock impossibly hard against his breeches.
Aemond stands to his full height and you quickly help him undo his breeches, your soft hand palming at his cock, making him throw his head back with pleasure at the feeling. It is so much better than he ever could’ve imagined, having you touch him and gaze up at him like that with those sweet eyes of yours. Before he can align himself with your center, you rest a hand to his chest. His breath quickens as you move to rid him of his eyepatch, your fingertips tracing the scar that runs along his face, the one he has been so ashamed of all his life.
But all you say is one word. One of the few you know in the tongue of your forefathers.
“Gevie.”
Beautiful.
Aemond smiles, genuinely, for the first time in so long, pressing his lips to yours as he joins your bodies, the soft moan that escapes your lips sounding like music in his ears. He stays still after sheathing his cock completely inside you, the two of you basking in the intimacy of the moment, gazing into each other’s eyes.
“Will you marry me?”
You nod, reaching a hand up to touch his cheek as you nod, “Yes.”
Aemond kisses you once more, beginning to move against you, his body desperately rutting against yours, the feeling of your walls clenching around him like a vice being almost too pleasurable for him to bear. He’s dreamed of this for so very long, but the real thing surpasses everything he ever imagined. Your arms wrap around him and you rest your head against his chest as he pounds into you over and over, making you cry out his name in the most wanton of voices, begging him for more, begging him to fuck you harder.
And Aemond is all too happy to oblige, the thought of filling you with his seed, his babe growing in your belly spurring him on, your breasts swollen with milk, the entire realm knowing that the beautiful Lady Targaryen is his and his alone.
He is yours and you are his. He says as much as he spills himself inside you, feeling you squeeze around him impossibly tight mere moments later, having reached your own peak, your body going limp against him, the two of you basking in the afterglow of your shared pleasure.
“I love you.”
You smile, standing on shaky legs, pulling him into a softer, more gentle kiss, as you whisper, “I love you too. I am ready to take my place at your side. As your princess,” you pause before whispering in his ear, a smirk playing on your lips, “And one day, as your queen.”
Aemond smirks, his lips finding yours once more.
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partycatty · 3 months
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Johnny cage and mayB some others being mind numbingly in love
Like they talk to reader and everytime just feel so stupid afterwards because theyre so in love and do stupid shit to impress
i love stupid men anon this works so well for me
johnny, raiden, kung lao, syzoth > stupid in love
warnings: big stupid hot sexy men (what else is new?), bojack horseman minor spoiler?? LMFOAMOF
+ bonus surprise character at the very end
masterlist
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johnny >
• have you guys LMAO have you guys seen the. DLGHSDKJ the episode of bojack horseman where bojack gives diane the D in from the hollywood sign?? johnny is SO extra like that and for WHAT.
• OR YOU GUYS KNOW WHEN TODDLERS LIKE REALLY WANT TO SHOW YOU SOMETHING AND THEY JUST KEEP SAYING "LOOKIT" LMFAFOIFMOA
• "reader, reader are you watching - reader, reader watch -" as he's like about to absolutely FUCK UP a nerds rope or some stupid shit
• okay i'll be fr. johnny is by far the most concerningly extra of the entire group. he will put himself in stupid danger just to impress you.
• "watch me take on all these guys at once!" he'll call out to you during your time at the academy, surrounded by a dozen monks. he's in a sling and bandages the next day.
• "kenshi, i bet you sento that i can jump from the roof like bi-han did!" BAM.
• he'd randomly give you expensive gifts out of absolutely nowhere. or he'd give his one of many glasses away to you because he "has no use for them" or they're "out of style" (he's lying, he just wants to see you wear something that's his).
• oh? you briefly mention you're a tad chilly during training? oh no, johnny's top fell off, i guess he has to give it to you now. you know, to stay warm. oh, you don't want his top? okay, here's a comically fluffy, expensive coat! and it just so happens to be your size...!
• lowkey i headcanon johnny as, despite being an actor, pretty blushy if someone matches his energy or really gets under his skin. you'll pass by him with a witty comment about his fighting style, or even just to tell him he cleaned up nice after getting his ass kicked by raiden. johnny just stands there with steam spitting from his red ears, hand on his chest as he fights a stupid grin.
• he is down ASTRONOMICALLY. not even the elder gods can stop this man from being so drunk in love when you're around. he makes it everyone's problem.
raiden >
• we see how flustered he gets when he's called out by kitana. he's a grown man with dick and balls but he's also flustered very easily! he'll be decently vocal about his affection for you, but then word trickles down to your ear, at which point it's so over for him.
• walks into walls when he's so entranced by you training. like face first into a wall, his hat fluttering to the ground. kung lao loses it.
• he can't even hear what you're saying when you speak to him, it sounds like an angel muffled by the clouds of heaven. raiden's also not the greatest with his powers granted by the amulet. if you go in to touch his arm playfully, a jolt of electricity pricks your palm and you yelp. raiden can only sputter apologies as he bows down, his cheeks tinted.
• he's the type to do little favors for you, ones you barely notice. your spot at the table is tidied, the training dummy is prepped for your fighting style, or he's the first one to bring you something if you forget it. that, and tiny favors to butter you up to him.
• "reader, you said you were nauseous last training. i prepared you some tea," he'd slide the small cup over to you, fighting a goofy smile. he rehearsed his script a few times, so he sounded more static than intended.
• will ask you questions about training or the weather just to hear your voice. he couldn't even recall what you were saying, he just loved the way your lips moved.
• kung lao pokes at him for this often, nudging him or making comments about you being his partner when you're not. raiden will stomp on his foot to keep him from talking about his infatuation if you're around. as if you don't already know.
kung lao >
• he's totally the bouncing on his heels type of man. he'll stare at you with a stupid grin, like a kid in a candy store.
• "was there something you needed, kung lao?" you'd ask as you tended to your own duties, organizing various equipment into baskets.
• "ah, no, not at all," he'd wave you off with a grin. "just enjoying... the view."
• you cringe at his words, chuckling to yourself as he speaks you in a daze. his mouth runs off before his brain can stop it from happening, so his biggest downfall with his crush is yapping. he'll sit there and explain his family history to you, or how much he hated farming cabbage, or his favorite meal at madam bo's just to keep you around long enough.
• kung lao always has this desire to keep you close by, so he continuously does stupid shit to keep you by his side. including but not limited to accidentally slicing his hands on his hat, one that he swore was a genius idea. in concept, probably.
• he wants to impress you so bad. SO BAD. anything he does is deserving of a bragging right if he's the one to do it. lao would totally try to shrug it off so you could gas him up more. any compliment, forced or not, was music to his ears.
• "yeah, i totally beat raiden," he'll check his nails nonchalantly as he leans against the wall, telling you the story of the cabbage competition for dinner against his best friend. "really swept him."
• "that's just not true," raiden would try to interject when he heard lao's version of the story. kung lao just holds eye contact with you, grinning, as he shoves raiden aside by his face.
syzoth >
• im sorry IM SORRY BUT I JUST LOVE THE HC THAT HIS TAIL WAGS I KNOW THATS NOT HOW THAT WORKS JUST- JUST BEAR WITH ME.
• you hear thumping when you're around, though you're never able to find out where it's coming from, so you chalk it up to the monks landing blows against the wooden dummies.
• but the sound lingers when you're at dinner. the table is... rattling.
• you look up to see if anyone else notices or if you were hit too hard during training. but, you see everyone staring past you. just down the table, syzoth is sitting with a pile of bugs on his plate, his tail thumping in and out of view.
• "syzoth," kenshi will gently say, leaning into his ear to whisper something. syzoth flushes a green tint and tries to resume to his meal, the bugs scurrying out of his chopsticks as he struggles to keep it together.
• out of respect for his dignity, you hold your tongue at his obvious affection. syzoth tries to keep it under wraps but he can't help it when you're just so cute!
• he'll stand close by you, inching closer and closer until you notice. he'll slip you little trinkets and flora with a small smile. anything from a rock that matches the shades of your eye, to a flower he picked by the gardens, to a stick. a nice stick, to be fair! you wonder if this is zaterran courtship.
• "it reminded me of you," he'd lean into your ear. your bedside table is decorated with various... outside decor.
BONUS! kitana >
• kitana knew she couldn't get entangled with the umgadi after seeing how risky mileena is with tanya, but my god were you breathtaking.
• you would often accompany her in the carriages as she waved to her people, eyes transfixed on her. you're devoted to her protection. it is your god-given duty. your eye contact was too much at times, and kitana would often catch herself staring at you, her hand suspended in the air. she'd forget to wave.
• "is everything alright, my princess?" you would ask innocently, in a low tone to avoid raising suspicion. kitana's mind short circuits when you call her... yours. even if you're referring to the umgadi's worship. she shakes her head and clears her throat, pulling her mask up higher to conceal her blush.
• if she were to give speeches on her mother's behalf or otherwise, she'd find herself forgetting what the rehearsed, or hell, struggling to rehearse. you were the one she'd come to for help with speeches, yet you made things ten times harder when you'd lean in to listen to her better. it makes her mind absolutely numb.
• "and you tell me to steer away from the umgadi," mileena would rasp into her ear as the sister sat on their thrones, you positioned by her side and eyes forward. "it seems you picked a favorite, sister."
• "i'm not the only guilty one," she'd hiss back to her sister, nodding at tanya. "it won't get in the way of duties, as long as mother doesn't know."
• you'd fight to netherrealm and back for your princess. as you fight off intruders or threats, kitana forgets to escape, instead transfixed on the way your muscles would contract and flex with each blow.
• she wants to be the one to care for your wounds. the power imbalance means nothing to her, you're her equal.
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grandline-fics · 6 months
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hi! i just read all of your oneshots and they’re perfect, i’m in love. hoping it is okay to request something with zoro having a soft spot towards reader? he doesn’t even realize it a first, but since reader is somehow quiet and gentle (not weak though!) he starts to take note of small things to do/don’t do or notice their actions (ex: taking care o the crew) a lot more than others. thank you. <3
DESCRIPTION: Who knew you were Zoro’s soft spot? Apparently both of you are the last to know 
WARNINGS: none, just pure fluff
CHARACTERS: Zoro
WORDS: 856
A/N:  Thank you for your kind words and for this request! I hope it's to your liking. I've been feeling a little under the weather these past couple of days so some fluff was needed <3
MASTERLIST
*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*
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It’s tiny things; little, practically meaningless things that are so easy to miss but they’re there. When you first joined the crew, your presence fell into the likes of his and Robin’s; strong but relatively quiet and easily looked passed if you wanted. You didn’t see the point in wasting energy needlessly and knew the value in waiting until letting yourself be known. Zoro unknowingly enjoyed that kind of calm you naturally brought and found himself gravitating towards it because it seemed even when he was in his own space you were still in his eye-line. In the beginning he found it a little strange that it kept happening, he knew you weren’t following him. Hell most of the times you were on the other side of the ship or talking with someone else so he cleared it as coincidence and thought nothing of it. As time went on, there was a lot he was putting down to mere coincidence. 
When you were all exploring new islands it was purely happenstance that you two walked side by side. Neither of you were the type to bound about and race ahead without a cause for urgency. He found he didn’t get lost as easily when you were close. You always seemed to know the way to go. On one trip Brook had commented to Zoro how lucky he had been that you were there to talk to him at the right moment otherwise he would have kept walking towards a path that would have taken him towards a ravine. Because of your voice suddenly pulling him into conversation he’d kept the right track and avoided possibly injuring himself and getting a lecture from the others. Lucky right?
It was also luck of the draw that when eating or drinking off the ship, Zoro was sat at the table in such a way that his back blocked you mostly from view from any unwanted stares. It was never in a subconscious way to keep you from interacting with others but it was like another sense he had that he was able to tell when you just wanted to sit with the crew and enjoy your meal. It seemed to go both ways too in that regard. If women tried to approach and flirt with him you effortlessly had a way of making a joke to dissuade them and steer them in Sanji’s direction. Was any of it done out of jealousy, possessiveness of the other’s attention, or an overwhelming need to protect? Not in the least, it was just doing what needed to be done to help out a friend and fellow crew-mate.
On the Sunny it’s no different. It’s not even a second thought, his body just reacts without thinking. In the early, barely waking hours when he’s finished his night watch and is about to grab a quick snack before training he always pulls out a specific mug from the cabinet and sets it on the counter. It’s never for him and like clockwork you appear just as he’s finished drinking a glass of water. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes and stifling a small yawn you always offer him a small smile and greeting that is returned. You both pass each other, your only motivation is caffeine to see you through the last of the watch before everyone else is awake while he goes to the crow’s nest to train. 
After all this time it’s never occurred to you to question why your mug is waiting for you when you rise. You don’t know why but it’s something that immediately makes your morning a little bit brighter. It’s also routine now that an hour or so after breakfast, you and Zoro both nap; him to rest between his training sessions and you to grab another couple hours after your night watch. Nami occasionally glances up from her charts to shake her head at your sleeping forms. Robin finds it adorable while Brook chuckles, nostalgic over youth and love’s first stages. 
“Jeez they’re both so clueless.” Sanji grumbles, he’s accepted long ago that he doesn’t have a chance with you but is so infuriated that nothing has actually happened. He lost you to the swordsman who hasn’t even thought to make a move. Usopp grins and watches as you stir slightly in your sleep which in turn makes Zoro react before his body relaxes again. Currently he’s lying on his back with one hand tucked behind his head. While the other that’s draped over his chest, his fingers almost touching yours that are curled by your head as you sleep on your side. 
From his spot on Sunny’s head, Luffy grins. “I don’t know. I think they do know, in their own way.” It’s the little, insignificant things that you both do for each other that are easy to miss and while a lot of little things add up into something bigger, none of it compares to the way that you and Zoro unknowingly look at each other at any given chance. Because that is something so big that no one else can ignore. 
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lady-ashfade · 2 months
Text
Blood And Pressure
Part one
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Yandere!Pjo x Fem!Grisha!reader. (Platonic Yandere gods) (romantic!various characters)
-♡ Chapters: Previous // Next
-♡ characters: Percy Jackson, Luke Castellan, Clarisse La Rue, Grover Underwood, Annabeth Chase.
-♡ this is a shadow & bone slight crossover. Reader is a heartrender and that’s all really (maybe more in the future!)
-♡ Please note that all characters are aged appropriately, so all characters are older versions of the book characters. So 17-19 characters for these, you can choose any of them really. Just that they are older teens.
-♡ warnings: short, yandere behaviors, obsession, stalking, slightly sick love, possessive, manipulative, gaslighting, platonic yandere too, blood powers, powerful powers but not godly, and future warnings when more chapters come out.
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No one knew the power you held when you entered camp. You stayed in The Big House at camp with Mr.D and many of the campers knew nothing but a few things when you walked by. You were a person of few words but spoke in glances, or at least to them you were.
You spent your days talking to Mr. D and Chiron since they didn’t like you to leave the house or their side.
“It’s just too dangerous to be around the little kids,” Chiron talks ever so soft to you.
“I mean, I don’t care if you hurt them or not but they know nothing of you— we barely know anything of your kind. So you stay with us.” He was a bit harsher when it came to you but he was also fun to be around.
No one noticed when you’d glance into a room while a patient was sick and in bed. And no one knew you visited Percy too.
You heard whispers when he arrived and wanted to check him out for yourself. His heart was beating fine and healthy but a little to high for your liking. He was having a nightmare and you could calm him down.
When you placed your hands together and calmed his heart, then his eyes open just a bit. He remembers seeing annabeth but you were new. You wore dark red and silver clothes making him wonder about you, you almost looked like royalty to him…and your beautiful.
“Sleep percy,” As soon as you spoke he was out like a light as you controlled his body and decreased the anxiety he felt. You wanted to stay there and help him but you knew you could get caught at anytime so you left. He wasn’t the only one you helped, and he wouldn’t be the last.
Another day you found yourself playing cards with Mr. D, he got too angry at you beating him that he took a break. He rests his eyes while you read a book, a very old and run down book but you refused to let it go. And that’s when the boy you helped walked in with confusion on his faces.
It was your favorite part to see someone new get welcomed.
Percy seemed to not notice you at first when his announce stayed on the god you knew, obviously he wasn’t aware of who he was talking to…and when he did he didn’t seem to care either. After a few minutes of them talking, he finally noticed you as you flip the page of your book.
“What are you looking at her for?” Mr. D tried to pull his attention away from you but he just kept staring.
“You…you were in my room that night.”
You shake your head and sit back under the gods suspicious glare. “No, no. Must have me mistaken.”
“I recognize that pin on your jacket, it was definitely you.”
“Okay kid, that’s enough now got get me that wine.” He snaps his fingers and Percy finally turns his gaze. Thankfully Chiron got there in time before Percy fell for his trick.
Percy was getting to explore the camp, train and fight and win glory. You hated how tight your at stomach got in jealousy of him. You’ve been here for two years and yet you haven’t stepped off the porch of the big house.
You stood up from your chair causing them all to turn to you. You slammed your hands on the table and started to demand that you would be going with them. You’ve had enough.
“I wanna see things too. Just for once let me see the camp, it’s cruel to keep me here.”
“You know the rules, you stay here!” Mr. D was always the one to fight with you when you threw your fits.
“Your rules suck! Let me go on the tour!” Your voice was so loud percy thought that the whole camp could hear you. Your final hope was to look at Chiron with begging eyes since he was so easy to guilt.
And like every time. He caves.
“Maybe we should. They have shown no signs of hurting anyone and it would be good to get a bit of fresh air, stretch their legs.” He tried to reason with him. You begged and prayed in your mind for it to work.
“Fine— whatever. But if anyone so mush as touc-” he was cut off by you squealing and hugging him. He was caught of guard since you’ve never do that before. He felt pride, the other gods wanted you to come to Olympus or the underworld but he got you. No one could take the smirk on his face.
Percy was happy to see you smile. It caused his mood to lighten greatly and he didn’t really know why but you seemed so familiar to him. Like he’d do anything to keep you smiling, to hold your hand…
“Come along, we have a lot to explore.” You both trail behind the centaur to take on the new adventure. Maybe this was fate.
You didn’t know it but many eyes would begin to follow you everywhere.
Next chapter
-No Taglist because idk of people want this to be tagged in (I will add you if you ask! Just my normal ones I don’t wanna spam them with notifications if they don’t want this)
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moonit3 · 4 months
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Yandere mafia x male reader. I imagine that the reader became a prisoner because he was part of the rival mafia (the reader's mafia was defeated), our mafia boss arrives drunk and wants sex.
this took more time than I expected, maybe it wwas the fact that I didn’t know what name to give the new oc. also this is dedicated to the anon who asked for more gay sex in colorful letters.
MORE THAN ENEMIES
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➥warnings/notices: male yandere, amab/m! reader, mlm, nsfw, smut, dubcon, reader is coerced, sub! yandere, dom! reader, handjob (receiving), oral (receiving), anal (giving), both characters are drunk, reader is implied to have a big cock, is that a warning?), yandere is implied to be a virgin but reader is experienced, end is a little rushed.
➥ yandere! mafia man x male! reader
➥ synopsis: losing your group to allistair made you feel horrible, but feeling his lips on yours made things slightly better.
➥ a/n: once again I am feeding the male readers of this blog with this one, so any comments and positive criticisms is welcome to this post. it took me more time than as my original plan was to make it as I literally searched in how to write smut, so this might be better than my last works related to nsfw content and that writing this, I felt somewhat cringe and embarrassed, so yeah….but anyways, enjoy this.
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earlier today, the west coast mafia thrown a celebration to it leader after the group managed to taken down their longtime enemies. people were shoot down inside the gala room, making the walls red as the victorious drink and laugh from gaining an enormous territory over the east. the members are happy and dancing to show their enthusiasm over the victory, even the boss is celebrating with his men.
the party lasted hours until everyone fell asleep all over the manor, sleeping at the ground after a loud and crazy party, except for the boss. allistair is somewhere else way more properly than a cold floor of the living room, instead he is in his room, currently teasing his prisoner, in this case, you.
“why aren’t you paying attention on me?” the drunken state makes you worry about the amount of alcohol allistair has drink, definitely more than five bottles to turn like this. “y-you know that you are mine, right? so your attention has to fully mine!”
his body is rubbing against your, trying to gain a reaction from you. the whining coming out from his lips are driving you insane, it would be a great opportunity to take advantage of this situation and escape from this place to never be seen again. however, you can’t do this with allistair being so vulnerable like this, you aren’t a monster like his men.
your hand that isn’t cuffed to the bedpost goes over his shoulder and easily push allistair to the other side of the bed, “i don’t think you should do anything with you barely knowing what you are doing.” he climbs back to your lap, but this time more touch and needy than before. “do you even know who am I?”
he nodded, dumbly smiling and admiring the tiny blushing growing in your cheeks. allistair is planning something, despite drunk, he still one the greatest mind you’ve met and that’s why he took down your group so easily.
“you are my love~” his head is now against your neck, already cuddling you and prepping kisses at your cheek. “and as my love, you are going to make me happy for the rest of my life.”
“really? should you wait to be a little more sober to talk about it?” your free hand couldn’t stop him from zipping down your fly, not when he was faster and out of your reach while doing it. “h-hold it! allistair, you aren’t in the position to make decisions like this!”
again, you pushed him away from you and this time it was a bit too roughy as he almost fall from the bed. the smile on his face gets replaced by sadness, making you stay calm as he lays down in bed with you once more. the unusual expression of dejected doesn’t fit someone like allistair nor the soft cries that are coming from his throat, if he wasn’t drunk, he would be screaming and yelling about you disobeying him.
he began to cry, not even bothering to hold it back as his hands wrapped around your body, seeking comfortable as he placed kisses on your cheek. “please, [name]….i want you to touch me…” his hands goes over your pants, zip down your pants to reveal not only your underwear, but also a large bulge that is already quite big. “can i touch you? p-please, i need to know how you feel!”
your brief are put down to show your cock, it’s hard and there is precum leaking from the tip. allistair doesn’t lose the opportunity and start stroking it, making you fail to secure the moan coming out from your lips. “a-allistair you need—you need to stop it!” but he doesn’t stop, he ignores you and keep teasing you, going faster and more faster than before.
more precum began to spill from your cock, dirtying his slender fingers as allistair began to lick your member, fully happily to see how embarrassed you become because of him. unable to take most of your cock, allistair goes slowly as his throat isn’t accustomed to take it deeper than he wished. his head goes down and up at your member, gaining a rhythm to not slow down nor make you uncomfortable.
“a-ah!” your hips moves on its own, resulting in allistair not only in whimpering more, but also having him going faster as you free hand grab a handful amount of his hair as a way to make him go faster. “AH, ALLISTAIR!”
it took a couple of more stoking to allistair before his mouth was full. his eyes full of tears as you released him from your touch and let him swallow the entire fluids, not letting a single drop escaping his lips. your eyes couldn’t believe that he did it, the man you always feared is now looking at you with lust on his eyes. he wants more of you.
“[name]…can we do more, please?” his zipped down his pants, smiling at your exhausted and dizzy state, adoring how you look. “i promise to be good for you.”
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you are kissing allistair softly, something you wouldn’t never do, but after sharing a bottle of champagne with him change things. his lips taste like alcohol, a drink you wouldn’t never enjoy, however it’s feel good by tasting it on him.
between the kisses, your hands (now free from the handcuffs) play with his chest, twisting his nipples and in return, hearing the soft whimpering from his lips. it’s weird to have one of most dangerous man underneath you, ready to be taken by you only.
“p-put it inside me, [name]! i need you now!” allistair begs, no- implores you to take him. “just promise me to go s-slow!”
“i won’t hurt you, allistair.” you chuckled, playing a kiss on his forehead before inserting a finger inside him. the man thrown his head against the mattress and began to whine. “but first, I need to prepare you.”
regardless of trying to hold back his voice, allistair’s voice escaped and echoed through the room. it made you smile, knowing that he is enjoy made you add another finger, but this time a little bit more faster. seeing how his body reacts to your touch is interesting and you want to see more of it.
then, you hit his most sensitive spot that result on allistair whimpering and holding your arms for security. it took a couple more of touching his insides before he came with a loud moan and dirtying his chest completely, now he is the one who is exhausted.
“did you enjoy it?” you asked and he nodded, smiling despite feeling so tired and wanting to sleep. “i’m going to put it inside, okay?”
you pour some lube around your length, then slowly pushed your cock inside him, taking time to get allistair adjust to your size. his moans got louder, but not enough to break the privacy the bedroom gives to both.
“hmp—!” his body shivers when your all of your cock got inside. it’s a new sensation to allistair, you know that, so you take a couple of minutes before starting thrusting in and out slowly, gaining more whines from him. “a-ah—ah!”
your bring his legs closer to you, carefully throwing it above your shoulder to make him take your cock deeper. then you continue to e thrust into him, making lewd noises from the impact between your cock and his entrance.
“g-good—!” his body shakes as you hit the most sensible spot again, gaining a sweet moan from him. allistair moves his arms to your neck, bringing you closer to give you a kiss. “hng—! you a-are making me feel good!”
it took a couple of more thrust to both of you each climax at the same time. you came inside this time, not daring to pull away when the idea of filling him up sounds appealing. and allistair dirty his chest again, but this time he looks calmer of it. after a while, you remove yourself from him and the fluids inside him slowly got out of him entrance, hitting the now dirty sheets.
a smile on his lips as allistair kissed you again, exhausted but happier to experience something so special with you. the two of you lays down on the bed, not caring if it’s dirty, he is staring at you with his lovestruck eyes.
“[name]~” his fingers reach out for a lock of your hair, smelling it when you just stare at him. “i love you.”
“…” it’s strange to believe of what just happened between you and the man who tried to kill your. he is your enemy, someone who took down the people you considered as a family and now you just had sex with him while drunk. it was wrong, but…it felt good at the same time.
“i love you too, allistair.”
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@moonit3 writings
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Home Again
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
Most gods would be happy that they were back in the paradise realm after previously being banished and stripped of their divinity, but Fallen God!Ghost aches for you.
His nights are spent dreaming about you, the mortal who showed him what love was. He dreamt of sleeping beside you, kissing you, even cooking with you. He dreamt of your beautiful hair, your breathtaking eyes, your jaw-dropping smile. His dreams were filled with memories of your laughter, your smooth and lyrical voice.
Paradise realm is a paradise, sure, but nothing could compare to you. Your beauty outshines the paradise realm's, your presence calms Ghost in a way the paradise realm can never. The air was always lighter when he was around you, the colors of the world always brighter. You are his light, his world, and everything is dull without you.
He spends week after week searching for how to get back to the mortal realm and back to you. His power is potent, he can just teleport himself down to the mortal realm to see you but that doesn't seem like a satisfying answer to him.
Ghost would eventually have to leave you and go back to the paradise realm, forced to be able to only visit you from time to time. He didn't want that, he can't bear the thought of leaving you. Of sleeping in his own bed, alone.
He also couldn't make you a concubine of his, bring you to the paradise realm. It didn't feel right for him to ask you to leave everything you knew behind just so you could spend hours alone in his temple while he worked. You deserve better than that.
So what else was there to do?
It takes Ghost a few days to realize what he must do. What he has to do in order to see you again.
He is standing in God!Price's temple, all of the deities summoned there for the monthly update of what the pantheon has been doing since they last convened. He can barely hear what the others are saying, it being meaningless as his mind finally reaches an answer to his burning question.
"I'm stripping myself of my godhood and powers, permanently," Ghost says, interrupting the conversation.
The entire temple is silenced at once, everyone turning their heads to stare at Ghost in disbelief.
A god deliberating turning himself mortal? That was unheard of. It was absurd to even those deities who loved the mortals so much.
Price frowns, clearly thinking Ghost has gone mad. "Now, Ghost, let's think about this," he says, his words slow and carefully curated. "You can't just abandon your godly duties, you're the God of Warfare. If there's one thing that the mortals do the most, it's engaging in war."
Ghost scoffs. "My duties can easily be done by our Goddess of War," he replies, gesturing with his hand towards said goddess. "I no longer want to be a god."
His words ignite a flurry of murmurs between the other deities, all of them shocked beyond disbelief. They don't understand why he wouldn't want to be a god, especially after centuries of hearing him look down on mortals.
"Is this because of the mortal you met during your banishment, {Name}?" Price asks, peeved now. "I hadn't thrown you down to them for you to fall in love with them, Ghost."
"No, you did it so I could learn the importance of mortals and I have," Ghost cuts in, his power flaring up as his anger spikes. This isn't up for debate. "I'm doing this no matter what any of you say, I was doing a courteous thing by giving you all a heads-up."
Price shifts in the seat of his throne, itching to get up and slap some sense into Ghost. "Enough of this, Ghost. You don't even know if they will take you if you're not a god. Perhaps that was the only reason they fell in love with you in the first place."
Ghost snarls in rage at the accusation and assassination of your character. "Even if that's the case, which I doubt it is, it is my choice. I'd rather spend the rest of my mortal life heartbroken if they turn me away than spend eternity aching for them," he says defiantly.
Immense power fills the temple, all of it Ghost's as he pools it all in his veins. Stripping himself of his godhood and powers is excruciating, the pain almost enough to stop him, but he keeps pressing on with the action.
It was worth it, for you.
"Someone stop him!" Price bellows at the other deities, but it's too late.
Just as God!Soap reaches for Ghost to try and stop him, Ghost's godhood and powers are stripped from him, his last act of being a god is to send his mortal form where it needs to be: at your doorstep.
His second fall seems euphoric, a laugh bubbling up in his chest as he falls through the clouds and lands on your front porch just like he had done months ago.
He looks to the side just as you open your front door, a smile gracing his lips at the sight of you. The weight on his chest is lifted, everything falling into place once more.
"Ghost?" You ask, surprised. You had thought you would never see him again. "Did... Did you get your godhood taken away again?"
Ghost stands with your help, his skin thrumming at the sensation of your hands on him again. "I took it away myself," he murmurs, breathless as he stares in your beautiful eyes.
Your face twists into confusion, which makes sense since he had been itching to be a god again the first time he fell. "Why?"
"For you, love. I couldn't bear to live eternity without you," Ghost says, secretly nervous that you won't take him now that he's not a god. "I love you, {Name}."
"I love you too," you reply, making him relax. You step closer, happy that this isn't a dream. "I don't care that you're not a god anymore, I only ever wanted you."
"You will always have me, for as long as you will have me."
Ghost steps closer as well, reaching up to gently cradle your face between his hands. He can't wait for you to lean in as well, though you do so as he gently presses his lips against yours.
The kiss can only be described as heavenly, all of the noises of city life fading away until there was only the sound of you two kissing. It's so gentle and slow, Ghost savoring what it's like to kiss you. He pours every ounce of love into the kiss, needing you to be filled with his love.
It feels like you are kissing for hours before you both pull away for air. Your soft pants fill the air between you two, you smiling at him.
"Come on," you say, gently grabbing his hand and intertwining your fingers together. "Let's go inside and have dinner together."
Ghost nods and follows you inside the house that truly feels like home now. He lets you lead him into the kitchen, not even complaining about having to cook with you.
He had been a fallen god when he had first met you but now, he was neither fallen nor a god. He was just Ghost. A man you loved.
Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated! Asks are open, feel free to pop in and talk or request something! (SFW requests only, please and thank you)
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Okay so, I LOVE making scenarios in my head and building a relationship with the characters of some series I'm watching or something like that and recently I've been thinking a lot about some scenario where Abby has recently broken up with Owen for different reasons and is on doubt about her sexuality and whether she likes her best friend or not(in this case, the reader), and meanwhile the reader has been desperate for a while because she has always liked Abby romantically but never had the courage to talk about it because she is her best friend and every time she saw Abby and Owen in a more intimate moment, her heart sank and she didn't know what to do, because things like this happen in life and sometimes there's no way to do something(lol something very similar to this happened to me in the last few months😭).
And there is also more because the reader thinks that Abby is straight and that even if she break up with Owen she would never have a chance with her and, honestly, Abby never realized that the reader likes her.
Soooo, could you do a scenario/fanfic/drabble(whatever you want), with angst and fluff at the end, about Abby still a little shaken by her recent breakup and very confused about her sexuality and then, while she is talking about the problems she had with Owen she notices something insecure in the reader, so she insists that she talk about what is happening and then the reader breaks down about all this confusion that goes through her head that she never told anyone and in the end Abby kisses her and they make out in a very gentle and domestic way?
I could even say that Owen never liked the reader much and because of that they ended up fighting and almost punching each other (and that would be one of the reasons why Abby broke up with him), but honestly I've barely started to see any gameplay of Tlou 2(even though I received a lot of spoilers) so I don't know much about Owen's personality, BUT, if you want to include that part too, feel free 💪
[Im sorry if i wrote too much but im so desperate for someone do a fanfic about that 🤭 and English is not mt first language and I used the translator, but sometimes the words end up being translated wrong so I'm sorry if something was confusing]
Volcanic Hearts
SUB!ABBY ANDERSON X FEM!READER
Word Count: 8.2K
18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
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A/N- Okay, this went too far. And maybe it wasn't in the plan to write smut for it, but I mean... it was right there and the opportunity presented itself and I ran with it. If you wish to avoid it, I will add a content warning before the actual 18+ content begins! ANYWAAAAYS, enjoy!
WARNINGS: Swearing, canon-typical violence, mentions of Abby x Owen (gross), gunshot wounds, medical tools, submissive Abby, NSFW content which includes heavy make-out sessions, eating pussy (r!giving), fingering (r!giving), slight overstimulation (r!giving), confessions of love
SYNOPSIS: You never liked Owen. You thought he was the worst and hated that he had someone as wonderful as Abby... Well one day, you get your wish, but there's just one problem: Abby is straight. Or so you thought.
ALL BANNERS CREDITED TO @cafekitsune
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“When I make love to you, I try, with each stroke of my tongue, to say, ‘I love you’. To tease ‘I love you’. To hammer ‘I love you’. To melt ‘I love you’. And your sounds drift down ‘Oh god! Oh Jesus!’ and I think- here it is, some dude’s getting credit for what a woman has done, again.”
The book screamed, taunted, almost laughed in your face as you wrestled to not snap the spine in half within your tensed fingers. Dread, thick as tar fell upon your aching soul as you folded the cover closed and looked upon the semi-desolate library… What was once a safe haven has become a not-so-silent silent prison.
“He hates you,” Says the voice inside of your head. You twitch. “He comes here with her because he knows you are in here.”
“Shut up,” You hiss, reeling back from audibly voicing your discontent with the demon behind the bars of your heart. How could you release the gates? How could you ever face that… that monster with claws? Teeth that gnashed and tore the flesh of the architect of your suffering. Her name, carved into your soul with her sultry voice and formidable words.
A glance from behind the bookshelf and you saw what you wished to avoid.
“You know we aren’t alone in here, right?” Her voice… Your friend. Sweet, beautiful, and everything you wished you could hear against your skin in the middle of the night instead of seeing the end of your bruised knuckles hammering away at a punching bag.
“That’s half the fun, Abby,” And then… there was him.
“Fuck you, Owen,” Said the demon as you stared him down. He knew you were there, and he was counting on it. His stupid pretty-boy attitude that got him everything he wanted, including HER. A goddess he does not deserve to look at, let alone touch in such a carnal manner that it made you sick to even gaze upon. “Fuck you, Owen Moore. I hope you lose your dick on the battlefield.”
The demon was angry, and you didn’t wish to be in here any longer. Your prison was now suffocating, and you wanted to breathe. Escaping the encompassment with the book still in your grasp, you just knew that Owen was smirking as you slammed the library door behind you, much to Abby’s terror that they had been caught.
The halls were a welcome sight… Unfamiliar to everyone as you walked by, blending in with other soldiers that had just started, even if you had been here for three years. It wasn’t hard to let your mind wander, but as it did, you wished it hadn’t.
You remember the night that you came here, helpless and afraid with your friends that were on the verge of death when standing at the precipice of salvation which was the WLF stadium. You surrendered your life to the way of the wolves, and in return for your salvation, you gave up hidden FEDRA soldiers that your family had harbored for months. It was an easy decision: life, or death.
Seattle streets were untamed, and you would rather be within the safety of the WLF than at the merciless teeth of the other demons that haunt the shadows. At least infected were anticipated; all that changed with them was how much fungus covered their body and how they went from human to a creature with a living exoskeleton leeched with spores and growth.
Your family never cared for you, anyway. You felt nothing when you handed Isaac Dixon the address of their safehouse. You did not cry when you saw their bodies in bags; you merely flinched when you caught your mother’s wedding ring glint in the light of the moon as she was tossed into a hole with the rest of the corpses, lit on fire and served as a warning to other FEDRA that still hid in the city.
You never told anybody that. Not even Abby knew what you had done to gain Isaac’s favor. The secret was between you and him, and you would take it with you to the grave if you must. No one could know just how heartless you had become when you believed you would die with your friends at those gates.
Said friends were long gone. Casualties of the war between the Wolves and the Scars. It hurt, but you got over it. For some reason, it was easier to move on from seeing your friend being buried than seeing some worthless tool flirt with the woman you wanted more than you were willing to say to anybody, ever.
How pathetic was that? You fumed on sight at seeing Owen Moore’s stupid face and how you wished to rearrange his nose, but you never got this angry when charged with taking down a Scar in the field… Something was seriously broken with you.
You had been walking for what felt like seconds, but it had turned into an hour. Before you knew it, you were across the stadium and outside on the outskirts of the railing. You would come here to breathe… and it was just you and the stars.
The stars didn’t judge you, like some omniscient being might have judged you, if you believed in that sort of thing. No, the stars were quiet, serene, and listened to your calls of agony, for no one else could hear the words more clearly than when you stared up at the sky and pleaded for your demons to finally silence.
The book in your hands felt like a cinderblock and you looked down at the dusty cover. Pat Parker, Pit Stop. Even in times as early as 1974, your pain was illustrated upon paper. Parker had a key against your caged heart and she could see the demon within, cowering at the light.
“Monster,” It wailed. You gripped the book tighter. “Monster. Monster. MONSTER.”
You let out a shout of rage, lifting your arm and staring off into the darkness, poised to release the leatherbound literature into the woods… but you halted and looked back down…
Perhaps… you needed this? You needed brutality, and the reality that even though Abby Anderson holds your heart, you might never hold hers. And for one painful, grueling reason…
Abby Anderson did not like girls.
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“Where is she?”
Your eyes tore away from the semi-dirty sheets of the medical bed you were sitting on. Tweezers were buried inside of a bullet wound on your arm that hadn’t passed through all of the way and you were trying so hard not to scream bloody murder whenever you twitched, and Mel touched the muscle surrounding the wound.
It was Abby, and she was looking for you. Your hands curled into fists on your thighs as you kept yourself from looking at the entrance of the medical tent where all of the wounded from your convoy were sitting. Some were worse than others; you had gotten a huge gash on your cheek, and a bullet to the arm, but your teammate had been the victim of an arrow to the chest, and it pierced his lung.
“Oh, my god,” Her voice was clear now, and you had no choice but to look up, seeing Abby jump right in front of you with her eyes full of terror as she pressed both hands to your face. “Oh, you’re okay… you- oh, that looks bad.”
She ran her thumb across the tape on your cheek that covered your new stitches. It sent tingles throughout your body, and it made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside… you didn’t like that feeling and ended up jerking your head out of her hands. “Abby, I’m fine.”
“Stop making her move, Abby,” Mel demanded, the tweezers closing around the bullet inside of your flesh and making you let out a heartbreaking sob. Abby held you still and the metal was pulled from your skin, dropping it into a metal dish and reaching for a bottle of alcohol. “She said that she’s fine.”
“Well, I wasn’t asking you, Mel,” Abby snapped, narrowing her eyes at the medic who shot a glare so fiery that your amazed the blonde didn’t burst into flames. “Here, I’ll do it—”
 “Don’t—stop touching my stuff! You’re not a medic—” Mel started.
“Neither are you! You’re just on rotation!” Abby bit back.
“I’m better than you are at treating a bullet wound!”
“She’s my friend, and I can—”
“Oh, shut up, both of you!” You jumped off of the bed and yanked the bottle of alcohol from Mel’s hand, dumping half of the contents on your wound and tossing it onto the bed. The two women stood there, staring as you reached for the suture kit and walked away. “I’m gonna find someone else to do my damn stitches. Clearly, you two would rather fight.”
As you walked away, Abby heard your words, and it made her heart sink. “As if Owen is fuckin’ worth fighting over.”
The wound was still fresh in her heart. Owen Moore had very clearly cheated on Abby, and only when he was caught did he break it off with her and declare that he was now with Mel. Abby and Mel used to get along once, back when things were civil… But now, Abby and Mel couldn’t even be in the same room without finding something to fight about.
Ever since then, you had been on edge and finding ways to escape her. It hurt Abby more than she wanted to let on. She was hoping that as her friend, you would be willing to help her through this hard time and be there for her, but it seemed like this was harder on you than her.
Abby wanted her friend back. Why were you acting like this? And… why was she having such a hard time with you not being around anymore?
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It felt like something shifted that day. Something inside of Abby that she wasn’t aware of. Something she never knew was there before.
Abby knew you hated Owen from the very beginning. She could see it in your eyes whenever he entered a room. You would grow quiet, and your hands would twitch on top of whatever surface they were laying on. She saw a fire behind your eyes that she could never sway to be put out. She never understood why, though. What had Owen done?
Or maybe you saw things that she couldn’t see. The gossip around the WLF stadium was loud that day; the day that someone close to her found out that Owen was seeing someone else.
Someone else, Abby thought bitterly. It was not just someone else; Mel was not just someone else. They used to be friends, and then she betrayed her trust like the years before meant absolutely nothing to her.
Owen chose Mel. And Abby was left alone… without you. Why did that bother her so much? Why were you not over the moon that Owen had finally left Abby’s side? She thought that if anybody had been overjoyed and kept her company after the separation, you would have been right there to make her happy, like you usually do when things don’t go her way.
But you were cold. You were distant, like when she had first met you during your training. Fresh meat, right off the streets of Seattle after winning Isaac’s favor doing God only knows what. She never asked, and you never told her. You had a mutual understanding that your past stay in your past and you focus on the present.
Abby liked how you lived in the moment. How you were an unwavering force of power that was always by her side when she needed you. If you ever had a free moment, you gave it to her. You were there for Abby, like no one else ever had been. She would stay up late with you on her off days, looking up at the stars and listening to you make up nonsense stories about things you read in books.
The library used to be a place where you two would sit in each other’s company for hours, just reading about anything and everything that you could get your hands on. You had a personal favorite that you always crawled back to in the worst of times.
Abby found herself looking at the book inside of the library now. Her fingers danced across the cover of the book, the dark and worn surface eating away at her soul like it was nothing but painful to see the dreary blood red lettering. “Edgar Allen Poe… Why do you like poetry so much?”
She was impartial to fiction novels; she wanted things to be like they used to. What was the world like without the constant threat of death looming over someone’s shoulder? What was it like to imagine a different kind of life?
Abby has read The Giver from cover to cover, at least fifty times. The idea of a utopian society where there are no lies, no heartbreak, no conflict? It was intriguing at first. Every time, she was sucked into the world of the book and as the tale unfolds, she realizes just how horrible a society of perfection sounded. Never making a choice on her own? Forever seeing the world in black and white? It was a living nightmare.
She always did things her way, and she was nothing if not living in the color of the world. Abby would close the book and think “It could be worse” and then she remembers the horrors outside of the stadium walls and thinks “It is worse.”
And then there was you. Losing yourself in twisted words and convoluted sentences that she struggled to grasp on her brightest days. She must have read The Telltale Heart a thousand times for you and still she could not understand what was so fascinating about it!
You explained it, but she still didn’t understand.
“You see, he killed the man; not because it was some righteous form of self-defense… but because he was afraid of what he didn’t understand. And eventually, that fear caught up with him and he could not bear to shoulder that guilt any longer. It literally drove him mad.”
What the hell did you even mean?! Who cares about those things now? The world is in literal apocalypse and you were dreaming about things that didn’t matter anymore. When would it make a difference in her life? She wasn’t afraid of what she didn’t understand—
Then why are you hiding from your feelings?
Abby gripped the book tighter in her palm. The voice was louder this time… angry even. It was beating at her, and she just wanted to shut it up. Her feelings didn’t matter; nothing in this stupid world mattered. All that mattered was that she lived to see another sunrise. She had things in this stupid world that had to be done— people that had to die.
And yet, in that moment, all she could think of… was you.
She remembers the gentle caress of your hands on her shoulder when she would dose off at one of the tables. She remembers your voice and how you pointed up at the sky on the clearest summer nights. She remembers the warmth you gave her when the power was out one day and she was in her room, freezing and shivering… She remembers the way you used to smile at her. And it made her heart tremble.
Abby didn’t realize she was walking away from the library until she was inside the mess hall. And what was in her hands?
Maybe if she concentrated hard enough… she could smell you on the book.  
Or, perhaps, if she had just turned around, she would see you sitting by yourself, staring down at the food in front of you that you had literally no appetite for. It was insulting how this had worked you up into such a frenzy that it drove your hunger away. Embarrassing, even…
So engrossed within your own thoughts, the shift of the table down the line made you tense up and look over to see… oh, for fuck’s sake, why were they here?
“I’m telling you, something’s wrong with her,” Said Manny, Abby’s bestest friend and roommate. “She doesn’t act like this.”
Owen shrugged, taking a long drink of water and leaning back until his spine hit the wall. “Just an off-season. She’ll be fine, she’s Abby.”
You scowled, looking at your hands and feeling them curl into fists on the surface. You should have kept your mouth shut, but the words were bubbling up so fast that you couldn’t fight back to keep them down. They tasted like vinegar. “Maybe she doesn’t like being cheated on.”
They heard you, and their conversation stopped immediately. “I’m sorry, were we talking to you?”
“Talking around me, that’s the same thing,” You barked, standing from your chair and stepping forward until you were about a foot away from Owen. He turned to completely face you, giving you all of his attention and waiting for what you had to say. “See, call me crazy but… wouldn’t you be upset if someone dumped you without warning?”
“I don’t know what you’ve heard, but the break-up was mutual,” Owen defended.
You laughed, and it was dark. “Oh, really? Abby mutually agreed to walk in on you fucking someone else? There was a mutual understanding for you to break her heart like that?”
Manny looked uncomfortable as he rose from his own seat and put a hand on your shoulder. “Mi amiga, you should let it go—”
“No! No, Manny, this is bullshit!” You shook him off. People were beginning to stare at you as you slammed your hand down next to Owen’s food, making the man jump slightly and you weren’t sure what he was thinking, but it wasn’t good. “You don’t get to get away with this, you know? Hurting her like she’s not worth it—”
“You have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about,” Owen was now on his feet and Manny was stepping back. You stepped even closer, ready to do whatever you had to.
“I know that if I had her, I wouldn’t treat her as shitty as you fucking did. What kind of a man are you—”
You aren’t sure who hit who first, but it only took a few seconds for you to end up on the floor, throwing punches left and right and hitting any part of Owen that you could. He placed a well-calculated hit to your jaw, and you knew one of your back teeth was knocked out, but in return, you held him down and your fist connected with his nose, shattering the bone easily.
From the dumb teen movies you have seen in your life (only a few), it felt like this would be a high school moment. You were giving as good as you could give, hitting Owen as hard as nature intended, and soon a crowd was surrounding both of you, shouting FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT! Over and over again. It was pathetic, but also such a good feeling.
You’ve been waiting to hit this bastard for years.
At some point during said fight, you had swung too hard, and Owen moved out of the path of your fist just in time for it to hit the ground. You growled aggressively as Owen grabbed your hair and slammed you to the floor, jumping on top of you and wrapping his hands around your neck.
His nose was dripping with blood and there were bruises forming on his face as he held you down onto the floor, choking you and making you claw his arms to try and get him off of you. The oxygen was starting to get cut off from your brain, causing your face to turn a hideous shade of purple.
The fight went from a simple brawl in the mess hall, to Owen attempting to put you in the medbay. You had clearly struck a nerve, and he was out for blood. The red that was dripping from your lips and onto his hands wasn’t enough for him; he wanted to see you hurt.
It was only a few seconds, but it felt like a few days with him strangling you. His hands were now torn apart, scratches covering his skin as he held you down… and just like that, it was over. You saw Manny finally breaking up the fight, grabbing Owen and pulling him off of you.
For too many seconds, you didn’t do anything except lay there and gasp like a fish finally returning to the water. You just breathed, closing your eyes and letting out strangled gasps as the oxygen finally came back to you and it became easier to breathe.
“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” Oh no… Not now…
A hand wrapped around your arm, and you began coughing hard, patting against your chest and letting out the most distressed sound of your life. The architect of your suffering was rubbing your back, and glaring as hard as possible at the person who just rocked your shit.
Abby was pissed, and the only thing on her mind now was getting you out of there. “Come on, let’s go… Get your fucking act together, Owen.” Was the last thing she said before she was practically carrying you out of the mess hall and toward the exit. You weren’t sure where you two were heading but the sound of a door slamming shut behind you two had you blinking aggressively.
The lights were off, but you recognized her room. Abby sat you down on the staircase and immediately began to inspect your face like it was her life’s purpose. Your lip was split, and there was a massive bruise on your cheekbone, and marks forming on your neck in the shape of Owen’s hands. You didn’t show that it was hurting; you were too proud of yourself to be in pain.
“Stay here, I’ll go get a medkit,” Abby jumped up and went to Manny’s side of the room, grabbing the medical box under his bed and cracking the cover open. She returned with a bottle of alcohol, bandages, and a salve for your neck. She wordlessly began to work on you, carefully removing the bandage from your cheek and seeing that Owen had ripped the stitches. “Goddammit.”
“Rip ‘em open?” You laughed, showing your bloody teeth. “That’s a shame.”
“Stop moving,” Abby snapped, dumping some alcohol on a clean rag and wiping your face near the stitches. “Need to redo them. Do you trust me?”
“With my life,” You agreed like it was the most obvious answer.
Abby let out a shaky breath, biting her lip at your words before she began to clean up the wound on your cheek and pulling out a suture kit. Her hands were tough and calloused, not like Mel’s… But you preferred them that way. You weren’t fragile.
She carefully stitched your face back up, trying not to look at your eyes that refused to leave her face. Abby looked angry, like she had something she wanted to say but didn’t have the strength to actually say it to you. “Abby, just say it—”
“Why did you pick a fight with him?” Abby finally said, pausing and looking down in your eyes. You tried not to flinch at her words; she was very upset. “He isn’t worth it.”
“You are,” You said. Maybe it was the possible concussion talking, or the lack of oxygen getting to your brain, but you couldn’t keep the words down even if you wanted to. “He doesn’t get to get away with what he did to you.”
“What do you care?” Abby finished your stitches, putting a patch over your cheek. Her hands were shaking, and she resisted the urge to wipe them on her pants.
Before Abby could turn away, you grabbed at her hand, not caring about the red that stained her flesh and you looked up at her dark eyes, almost like you wanted to dive in and drown in her soul. She was so vulnerable now, almost like she was about to start crying. But that didn’t happen; Abby didn’t cry.
“I care about you, Abby,” You breathed through the pain in your chest. “I can’t stand knowing that he hurt you like that. You don’t deserve that kind of shit, and he did not deserve you.”
A tense few moments passed as she stared down at your hand and how it was holding onto her own. It would have been so easy to pull Abby in and finally show her how you felt, and how badly you were wishing that you could have her finally after so long… but that wasn’t fair to her. She had just gone through some hard shit, and she deserved better than someone who took advantage of her vulnerability.
Abby pulled her hand free and reached for the salve, removing a small amount from the cannister and tilting your head up. “Try not to talk.”
“Convenient timing,” You scowled. “Just want me to shut up.”
“Yeah, actually,” Abby said, gently rubbing the salve into your neck. You shuddered, the shivers of pleasure from her touch going down your spine and making you lean forward a little more into her grasp like she was a livewire. She definitely noticed, because her breath caught in her throat as she finished rubbing in the salve and tried not to think about things that she had no right to think about.
Fuck, she was so pretty that it hurt you… What the fuck was Owen thinking? How did he ever let this woman slip through his grasp? Why was he so brainless that he couldn’t see how perfect she was in every sense of the word?
The sweet moment didn’t last though. Abby pulled her hands back and stood up. “You’re all set.”
Wow, she really wanted you gone, huh?
Wordlessly, you stood up from the floor and went to her kitchen sink, cupping your hands under the faucet and washing the blood out of your mouth. Abby saw you wipe your mouth with your sleeve, and you just began walking for the exit of the room, ready to leave and not look back… But then, Abby grabbed your wrist and halted her movements.
“I miss you,” Abby admitted, her face falling with disdain. “I miss my best friend…”
The words stung more than you wished they did.
Best friend. That’s all you’d ever be to her, and all she saw you as. You were stupid for thinking that she would ever see you as more than that or give you a chance beyond such a thing. You wanted her to know everything. You wanted her to know the real reason that you tried to punch Owen’s entire nose off. You wanted her to know why you had been avoiding her… But what could you tell her?
Stop being a fucking coward, It was back. The demon. Tell her everything. It’s now or never.
But how could you? How could you ever look at her again if she rejected you? How could you ever face the world if the only person you’ve wanted decides that she hates you, and wants nothing to do with you, ever again? You would rather pretend to only feel friend feelings for her than admit how you truly felt inside. So, you forced a smile and shoved your feelings back down.
Hope is the thing with feathers, that perches in the soul,
“I missed you too, Abs.”
And sings the tune without the words, and never stops at all.
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The days passed, and the weather began to grow colder with each passing sunset. The attacks on the WLF from Scars were becoming more bold and far more aggressive. The wolves were facing heavy losses, and everything was getting harder for Abby.
Things were changing, but she had you… she did have you, right?
Word was getting around about you. Abby heard the whispers among her friends and how you were beginning to get a name for yourself and what you were doing to other women. Abby tried not to listen too hard when someone talked about you, but it was impossible to ignore.
“She made me cum in like… five minutes! You know how hard that is?”
“Everyone here knew she knows how to eat a girl out, come on! She eats pussy like she means it!”
Fuck.
Abby felt something twist in her stomach as she thought about what you did with her fellow soldiers. Shit, how many girls have you been with? It seemed like every woman had something to say about you! Her heart hammered whenever she saw you walk up to some girl in the mess hall, and you gently grabbed her chin and pressed a kiss on her cheek.
What was happening in her head?
She thought for a brief second what it would feel like if your lips would be touching her skin… Which is not something a person like her would think. It was making her feel weird, and Abby did not like this feeling. Her hands were shaking, her heart was racing, there was this stirring feeling in her stomach, and she felt like breath was harder to come by. What was this feeling? Had she ever experienced it before?
Yes, she has… when she had a crush on Owen a long time ago.
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It was one of the darkest nights she had seen in a long time. The moon wasn’t out tonight, and stars were hidden behind snow clouds, blanketing the Seattle landscape in a soft white. The air was cold and bitter… but she remembered how it felt when you sat here with her. How you were always willing to hold her…
Abby kept the book in her hands, looking at the frayed pages on the inside and hating how it made her feel inside and out. It was a ditch effort to feel close to you once again; Abby read the book cover to cover. She still didn’t understand most of Poe’s stories, but she gave it the best chance possible, for you.
Her heart was beating, and she could feel her adrenaline rushing, even within the coldest grasp of winter. She had so much to say… and it felt like she had no time to say it. She couldn’t keep this down any longer. All of the signs were there; you liked Abby. And she was finally seeing through the haze of her self-deception. The book felt like a brick in her hands and without hesitation, she dropped the leather bound literature in the snow before sprinting off to your room.
The book’s pages turned in the wind… A single sentence was highlighted.
“Years of love have been forgot, in the hatred of a minute.”
The run to your room felt like an eternity. Abby began to aggressively rasp on your door, shouting your name in the hallway. “Come on, I know you’re in there!” She saw the lights under your door and how you were moving around inside the room. Her heart raced with aggression, and she was clearly growing more impatient the longer you ignored her.
“I need to talk to you! It’s important, please—” You opened the door, and Abby had to step back in order to fully see you. The first thing she noticed was how your hair was damp; evidence of a shower taken recently. Your breath smelled like toothpaste, and your clothes were sticking to your slightly glistening skin. You must have rushed to put clothes on.
“What’s so damn important?” You said, clearly unamused by her fervor to speak with you. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”
Abby wasn’t having it. She grabbed you by the front of your shirt and shoved you into your room, slamming the door shut and looking at you like she wanted to either kick your ass, or eat you alive. Her veins flexed in her arms as she bristled with hostility. “We need to talk. Now.”
“This couldn’t wait until—”
“No! We need to talk now!” Abby grabbed at your shirt again and before you could argue, she was shoving you down onto your mattress and standing over you. For a second, you looked like you wanted something from her, but then Abby started pacing and her eyes had to look away from you. “What are you doing?”
“Sorry?” You leaned forward, arms resting on your elbows as you started manspreading again. Abby paused, glancing at you for a second and trying not to stare at how your quads tensed, bared by your shorts. “I’m not doing anything, you came in here—”
“No, that’s not what I mean,” Abby said, far angrier than you expected, judging by the look on your face. “You… Do you just… fuck anything with a pulse?”
“Excuse me?” You stood up immediately and Abby was painfully reminded of the height difference between you two. And the age difference… There was something that was taunting her. You were a few inches taller than Abby, and you had a few years on her. She was barely 21, and you were standing at 27… Abby may have had more muscles than you, but you were clearly the one that was on top here.
“It is none of your business who I spend my time with—”
“But it’s your business who I spend my time with?” Abby stepped closer. “You never liked Owen—”
“Oh, come on, this shit again?” You rolled your eyes, which pissed Abby off even more. “No one liked Owen! He’s not good enough for you—”
“And who is?” Abby shoved you down again, your head almost hitting the wall. “You? You think you’re better than him?”
“From what I’ve heard, and you’ve fucking heard?” You stood up again, this time, grabbing Abby by the front of her shirt and shoving her down on your bed. She attempted to fight back, but you were very quick to climb on top of her, grabbing her wrists and holding her down. “I’m not afraid to actually eat you out. Heard he never fucking did that, huh?”
“Get… off of—”
“Fucking say it,” You growled. Abby felt cornered… This was not her friend in front of her right now. You weren’t acting like yourself, and she was scared, elated, but more than anything? Abby was aroused. She hasn’t seen this dominant side of you like this and she liked it, a lot. “Say that he wasn’t worth it.”
“You don’t know what you—”
“Abigail,” You used her full name, and she lost her breath at feeling you gently grip her jaw, forcing her to look into your eyes. Your brows were pulled down, and you had a slight curl on your lips as you searched her face. The sudden aggression was fading, and you could feel her muscles relaxing under your other hand. “Look at me… and say it.”
You had hypnotized her, almost to a painful threshold. Pupils dilated, and heart racing, Abby wasn’t sure what drove her to the final move. One hand reached up and she grabbed the back of your head, staring in your eyes and then drifting to your lips that parted slightly as you licked them and breathed slowly. Your breath tickled her cheek, ruffling the stray hairs on her face that were free from her blonde braid.
With one final breath, the veil that was constructed so high, so strong, and so very protective… was shattered like crystal glass upon the concrete. “He wasn’t worth it.”
The distance was finally closed. You groaned, dropping down and grabbing at her face with both hands. Your lips met Abby’s in a fury of desperation as she responded with equal fervor of her own. The flame had been lit, and you were fanning the fire to life. Abby breathed like she had never breathed before.
Emotions were running wild with every aching second as the two of you tangled within each other’s arms. Abby’s fingers curled in the damp hair on the nape of your neck as she pulled you ever closer, heart pounding in her chest as you reached for the hem of her shirt and began tugging it upward.
Abby was on a high, sitting up quickly and making you lean back just enough so she could quickly pull off the shirt on her body. You followed not far behind with removing your own, shoving her back down on the bed and immediately caressing her body with your hands. You met her lips again, drowning in the taste of her and feeling every single crease upon her muscles like you were drawing a map of her skin with your fingertips.
“Abby,” You sighed, lips trailing from her mouth and down over the length of her neck. The blonde whimpered, her eyes squeezing shut as her head tilted up towards the ceiling. You don’t know what you wanted to say right now… what could you say? You feared that if you tried to say anything, Abby would realize what was happening and she would turn tail and run. What could you do? All you did was whisper on her skin as your lips followed a slow trail across her jutting out collarbone. “My sweet, beautiful Abby…”
The noise she made was pathetic, and you wanted more.
Praise didn’t cease for a single second as your mouth created a hot trail of kisses across her chest and between the small swell of her breasts confined in her bra. Abby’s self-consciousness was beginning to take over as you reached for the strap on her shoulder and slowly slid it down. What was going through your mind? Was she not enough? Was her body a turn-off for you? Her lack of femininity wasn’t a problem ever before, but in this moment… Abby was terrified.
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“Abby,” You reached for one of her hands, slowly threading your fingers between her own and leaning back enough to fully breathe her in. You pulled down the fabric of her bra even more and watched her chest rise and fall viciously. This was uncharted territory for her. She was scared, and you are now realizing that this would be the biggest step Abby’s ever taken. “You’re perfect. Absolutely… perfect…”
Your mouth trailed across her skin as you spoke, pausing to leave open mouthed kisses on her hot skin and feeling her heart against your tongue as you licked a soft stripe on her sternum. Another noise rumbled out of her mouth, so sweet and so vulnerable that you were spinning. Her body lifted up a bit more, and you took this chance to unhook the bra on her body, stripping it away from her chest and tossing it on the floor.
The more skin that was revealed, the more you were drowning in her. It felt like a rolling wave of lava was covering your body, hot and smoldering, completely unabating from the speed of time and space. Your temperature rose and you took your sweet time admiring every single fucking inch of her, until every last stitch of clothing was removed from her skin.
“Oh my god,” Your voice wavered, bringing a noise from Abby. And that made you shake from the tips of your fingers to the soles of your feet. “Oh, Abby…”
“Stop it,” Abby practically sobbed, pushing the heels of her hands into her eyes and avoiding your gaze like you were pouring hot embers on her flesh. “Stop saying that, stop looking at me like that, just fucking…”
You frowned. “What are you— What’s wrong?”
“You don’t have to say that shit,” Abby sat up on her elbows, and you could see something in her eyes… she looked close to fucking tears. “I’m already naked in your bed, you don’t have to say unnecessary shit like that—”
You bent forward and captured her lips in a kiss to stop her words. It was breaking your heart… Is this how it was with him every time? Did his words of affirmation cease as soon as she was on the bed and bare for him? How could he do that to her? How could he use her in such a vile, selfish way? Abby deserved more than that; more than him.
Fingers slid down across your back and very cautiously, Abby gripped your ass with both hands. You shuddered, feeling her nails dig into your flesh as you bit her lip and traced your fingers across her torso. Very slowly, she realized what you were doing, and her legs began to spread apart. Your fingertips followed the trail of hair down her stomach and between her thighs where you slowly carded your fingers through the softness of fluff over her cunt.
You caught her off-guard. She was a whiny mess on your mouth as your tongue began slipping through her lips and tasting the deepest parts of her mouth. The tip of your tongue ran over her teeth and across the roof of her mouth, almost like you were attempting to caress literally every part of her. Abby didn’t know what to do… no one has touched her with such gentleness and has taken her in with as much hunger as you have.
“Oh, fuck,” Abby gasped against your mouth. Your fingers made that final touch, and her heart began racing. Your digits felt so soft and gentle between her legs, slowly rubbing and tracing between her slick folds. Her thighs threatened to close, trapping your arm there, but you weren’t having it. You broke the kiss and slid down her body until you were getting on your knees between her legs, holding her left thigh with your hand. You took your sweet time, rubbing all over her wetness and seeing how she was trembling in front of you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…”
“God, you’re so wet,” You spoke with bated breath. Abby sat up on her elbows, looking down and wondering if that was a problem or not. But her question was soon answered when you leaned forward and kissed over her inner thigh and listened to the vulgar slick sounds her pussy was making on your fingers. “Abby, can I taste you—”
“Please,” She cried, her head falling back for a second as she felt like she was losing her mind. “Oh please, please put your tongue on me…”
You didn’t need to be told twice. You removed your hands from her and pressed both palms to her thighs, diving down and licking from her opening, up to her clit. It was hard, and slow, and the way you flicked your tongue up against her bud had Abby gasping and curling her fists into the bed sheets.
The wet slapping noise you made as you pressed kisses to her delicate folds had her mind racing. How had she lived without this for so fucking long? How had she gone without your mouth on her? Sparks were flying behind her eyes that rolled into the back of her head, basking in the caress of your tongue and how you kneaded the muscles in her legs.
Abby cried out with every move of your tongue, how it would trace a small little circle around her opening before trailing back up and paying attention to her clit like it was your fucking birthright to eat her out. She held onto the sheets, almost like she was scared to touch you… You eliminated her fear and grabbed at her right hand.
For a second, Abby didn’t understand. But when you placed it on the back of your head, she fell into the boiling hot sensation of pleasure. Her strong hands threaded and curled into knots on your head, tugging the hair on your scalp and making you groan with slight anguish. But you didn’t stop her or let up for a second. You kept going, and Abby kept shaking.
“That’s it, baby,” You whispered into her pussy, the vibrations of your voice making Abby whine like a wounded dog. “Just hold me… that feel good? Yeah, you like that?”
Words were failing her. Abby was trembling against you as your voice was doing the most sinful things to her body and she had no choice but to hold on and drown in the magma. She never wanted to go without this again… Never in her life had she been brought to such delicious ecstasy so quickly. How did you do it?
“Ohh! Oh fuck…” Abby gasped, looking down to stare at you as you closed your eyes and feasted on her pussy with reckless abandon. You followed her words, and when your eyelids lifted just enough to meet her gaze, Abby gripped your head and kept you still. “R-Right there… please, please don’t stop…”
You could take a hint. Normally, this would be when the person would speed up, or get more aggressive with it to try and push Abby closer to orgasm faster. You knew better. When a girl begged for you not to stop, and to stay right in place, you kept your pace. “Gonna cum for me, Abby?”
The way you said her name in her cunt made her shake. Abby yanked on your hair and bit her lip, trying to keep her moans and huffs of pleasure in as you were now laser focused on nothing but licking her clit at just the right angle that she could feel her pleasure building with every passing second.
“Cum for me, baby… make a mess on my face,” You cooed softly, your nostrils flaring with aggressive breath that you seemed to be struggling with grasping. Abby was worried you couldn’t breathe, but you didn’t seem to care. All you wanted was to feel her shake in your mouth…
“Oh my god, oh my god, Ohmygoood,” Abby immediately used her free hand to cover her mouth, falling backwards on the bed as she reached her crescendo. Her thighs squeezed around your head as you wrapped both arms around her legs, not stopping your tongue’s movements for even a second and riding out her orgasm and letting her feel more pleasure than she’s felt in her life before.
You smirked, seeing that her toes were curled up in her dirt-stained white socks as you dug your nails into her thighs. Abby was crying, fully teared and shaking as you assaulted her pussy with your mouth. You didn’t stop, and she was starting to panic.
She was sensitive, and it felt almost like it was too much for her, but you were relentless. “W-What are y-you d—AHH!”
The shriek that escaped Abby made you giggle. Without warning, you slipped two of your fingers inside of her clenching walls, basking in how her warmth surrounded the digits and how you didn’t break off from her cunt even for a second. Abby was almost trying to crawl away. She was too sensitive, and if you kept this up, she was worried her heart might stop. Her noises were pathetic, high pitched, and so whiny that you needed to look up every few seconds, reminding yourself that yes… this was Abby Anderson.
“One more,” You mumbled. “Cum one more time, baby… You can do it for me.”
“T-Too much,” Abby sobbed, tears tracking her face. “It’s too much… fuck, please, please, pleaseplease…” You weren’t sure what she was begging for. To stop? To keep going? To change something?
Your fingers curled and you felt her walls clench down around your digits, her back arching off the bed in the most delicious action you had ever seen. Fuck, you were losing your mind. You needed her to cum again, she has to cum again. You began fucking your fingers into her harder, making stars shine behind her eyes as the natural disaster bubbled behind her ribcage.
I have never seen "Volcanoes" —But, when Travellers tell,
“Don’t stop, please… Ohgod, s-so c…close—” Abby whined. You smirked and angled your fingers just right that it sent her hurdling towards the edge. She had no chance to even grab the ledge before the fall into the bubbling heat. “Nnnnnn! G-Gonna c-cuuum…”
You whispered sweet words into her pussy, making her shake in your grasp.
How those old — phlegmatic mountains, usually so still — Bear within — appalling Ordnance, fire, and smoke, and gun—
The blonde couldn’t keep her cries of pleasure at bay this time. You reached up with your free hand and did what she didn’t expect… your fingers curled and threaded with her own as her climax washed over her and she saw fireworks and burning embers in her vision. It was so intense that Abby couldn’t breathe, like smog had filled her lungs and possessed her very soul.
Taking Villages for breakfast, and appalling Men —
Momentary lapse in judgement as you broke off from her core, licking your lips and with your fingers still plunged inside of her, you fell forward and captured Abby’s bruising lips with another kiss that felt like fire in her soul. Abby grabbed your face, fingers rubbing over the sweat on your forehead as you allowed her to taste herself on your tongue.
You whispered. “I love you, Abby…”
Years of hatred had been forgot, within the seconds of love shared… Prove her wrong.
Abby fought her demons and won. “I love you too.”
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Poets quoted: Pat Parker, Edgar Allan Poe, Emily Dickinson
409 notes · View notes
chuluoyi · 25 days
Text
UNHOLY MATRIMONY — 13
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✩°。 ⋆ seize your happiness
- fushiguro megumi x oc/reader - oc/reader's character name is hara sena, pronouns still refer to “you” and i won’t mention it often—just for the sake of aesthetic rather than repeatedly writing "y/n"
in another life, in which fate is still screwing his life over, Fushiguro Megumi finds himself in an arranged marriage―with you.
genre/warnings: arranged marriage au, angst, hurt/comfort
notes: i know i said this chapter will be the last... but apparently i still have a lot to say so... :') don't worry. chapter 14 will be the last chapter for real. pls bear with the angst one more time! and this turned out as a whopping 5k too oops
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✩°。 ⋆ unholy matrimony (masterlist) | chapter twelve : the most twisted curse <- previous ✩ next -> last chapter : to the one i love
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What does happiness mean to you now?
When you finally woke up from your long dream and saw Megumi, you thought you were the happiest because for so long, you defined being with him was enough to make you forget all the shit you had been through in this horrible life.
"Sena...?" You heard him before you saw him. His voice cut through the blur that veiled your vision and you could barely discern his figure.
Megumi immediately got a hold of your arm, eyes wildly focusing on yours as you fluttered your eyes open. And when you blinked, his voice almost broke― "Sena!"
You felt rigid, like a broken doll. Megumi grasped your left hand tightly in his, intertwining your fingers.
"You woke up..." he muttered with a strained, choked voice. He was still out of focus but you could hear him very well. "You really woke up... Thank god..."
And through his voice, you recognize pain. Several things ran through your mind then. Why is he here? Is he safe?
What about Kurusu Hana?
Yet then all of them didn't seem to matter. He is here. Whatever happened, he is really here. He didn't leave you after all.
Still, a part of you suddenly harbored suspicions that he might abandon you once again, and so you didn't dare to hope, and you were even convinced of it when you felt a lump in your throat—
You clawed on the skin of your neck in utter panic when you found that no sound came out of your vocal chords. Megumi obviously noticed your distress― "Hey, what is it? What do you feel―?"
But then you were gasping for air and Megumi didn't think anymore. He hit the nurses' call button and held you as you trashed on the bed. "Sena, hold on―hold on! I've called the doctor! You're going to be okay, you hear me?"
The heart monitor connected to you was blaring, your whole body was now shaking, and you turned to him helplessly like a fish out of water, mouth gaping to let out any sound but unable to. You couldn't speak― it felt as if someone had stolen your voice and tightened a vice around your throat.
In that moment, Megumi caught the sheer terror in your eyes, and he bent over to pull you in an embrace. "I'm here. I'm here. Focus on me. Let's take a deep breath together―"
He coached your breathing, and gradually, you started to calm down. The heart monitor in your room no longer blared like a siren, and your fingers clung to his shirt with a grip stronger than you intended.
"You're okay..." Megumi whispered in your ear, disregarding his own thundering heartbeat by reassuring you. "You hear me, Sena? You're going to be alright."
Right in this moment, nothing else mattered. You got him back. And he was here, with you. You were certain you had never felt such a profound mix of happiness and relief in your entire life.
The doctor and several nurses then swarmed the room and took over to check on you. Dizziness washed over you—their voices merging into a cacophony that made your feel exhausted, and before you knew it you fell back asleep.
. . .
"After experiencing trauma, it's not uncommon for a patient to develop a post-traumatic mutism," the doctor explained, and Megumi was listening intently. "In most cases, the patient will regain their ability to speak after attending several therapy sessions, so you don't need to worry, sir."
Megumi let out a long sigh. "Is there any long-term side effects from this?"
"No. If the patient made full recovery, then I'd say there's a low chance of any further complications."
Once the doctor left the room, Megumi resumed his post next to your bedside once again, observing your sleeping face.
His heart broke under the weight of the reality laid to him. You had endured a trauma so severe after your duel with Naoya it left you mute. Ultimately, he saw it as a reflection of his own failure to protect you too―he was supposed to be the one to go against him. And yet, you...
Seeing you struggle to breathe like that was terrifying. As your chest heaved with every breath, Megumi felt a slight relief wash over him.
At least you're now truly safe. At least... nothing more can harm you here.
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Megumi is always here.
Days after you first regained consciousness were slow and idyllic, and Megumi was always ready to attend to your every need. Though you supposed that he had to, as your guardian, since you had no one left.
With your voice still not returning, communicating with him proved to be a little challenging.
"Do you want some water?" he inquired, approaching with a glass and the pitcher in hand. You shifted your gaze away from the boring magazine the hospital had supplied and nodded.
"Here." Megumi handed you the glass and you took slow sips, before fixing your eyes on him.
It's been days. But neither of you had talked about what happened. Before now, the last you'd seen Megumi was when he left you during Zen'in's last hearing, when every bit of your dirty secret was exposed before him.
The memory of that day still made you shiver. The absolute hopelessness you felt, the way Megumi looked at you, his cutting words―
"Hey, Sena―" Megumi's got a grip on your shoulders, face contorting in worry. "What's wrong?"
You looked right into his dark green eyes, and saw nothing but concern. None of the Megumi who was so ready to cut all ties with you back then.
You were flattered that he was here, but still, you needed answers.
Reaching out for the notebook and pen Megumi had gotten you for your temporary communication, you scribbled your burning question.
Why are you here?
Megumi wouldn't admit it, but his heart sank upon reading your inquiry. The fact that you felt the need to ask it was just heartbreaking.
"You were badly injured. How can I not be here?" he responded, shoulder sagged. "I should be the one asking you―how could you have gone to Zen'in Naoya in the first place?"
Then it dawned to you. Your letter. He dropped everything to get you.
I have to end him with my own hands.
"Still! That's not―!" Megumi almost raised his voice before he caught himself. "That's not any reason for you to face him in a duel!"
He would have gone after you if I didn't.
"That's what should have been. You should've let him gone after me." There was something inside him that was this close from bursting and he was trying his hardest so it wouldn't. "At any given chance, you should've prioritized your safety first. And back then, even I―!"
I've left you. Megumi let out a sharp breath and looked away. He couldn't bring himself to say it.
You blinked at him, getting a sense of what he meant, and reached for your pen again.
I also did it for myself. He murdered my mom. I just wanted to end it with him.
"What do you― why do you have to―?!"
In that moment, Megumi felt as if he had been slapped in the face. He made you think that way. It was dreadful that you chose that self-destructive path because these unfortunate chains of events.
He was still grappling with the overwhelming guilt when you presented him with your next question.
Aren't we getting a divorce?
"No." His response was swift and resolute, his gaze boring straight into you. "Never."
You looked at him questioningly because you could still vividly recall the divorce papers you tearfully signed and left with Kurusu Hana. And seeing your confusion, Megumi thought he had to set it straight.
"It's my fault," he began. "I shouldn't have― I shouldn't have left you back then. And I should've never left you with the divorce papers. I wasn't in the right mind."
You looked down, pondering his words. Sure, he wasn't in the right mind―but at one point, that was what he wanted.
It still made you a bit uncomfortable.
Megumi held your shoulders again, sincere eyes piercing into your heart. "I regret it all. I really do. If I could turn back the time, I wouldn't leave you as I did."
Your eyes widened, wonderstruck, when a tear trickled down his cheek.
"You stupid." He brought you into his arms then, voice thick with emotion. "I'm sorry― I'm sorry for making you feel that you are alone. I'm sorry for leaving you. But even so, please, do not ever, ever put yourself in that kind of danger again. If something happens to you, I―"
His body was now trembling, and you put your hands around him. "How... could you scare me like that...? H-how could you just leave me with that letter... and tell me not to find you? Don't you know how frightened I was...?"
You didn't really know what you were feeling right now, feeling the dampness in your shoulder as he cried for you. Touched, sad, happy―all these emotions swirled within you at the same time. But still, the irrefutable truth was...
You are in love with this man. You were sure of it.
But...
"Me...gumi..."
Almost faint, but he heard it. Your voice that he had missed so much. Megumi pulled away from you, searching your face, and greeted by your soft smile.
You reached out for him and wiped his tears with your thumb. "Don't... cry..."
"Ah..." He pulled you into his embrace again, this time tighter. He buried his face in your neck, the ache in his chest almost made him burst as he shook with tears. "I'm so... so glad...! Sena, I―I'm really glad you're s-safe..."
And you are glad that he is too. That he is this concerned about you. That he loves you still.
. . .
And in the weeks that followed, you really thought you could sweep it under the rug and forget everything.
You thought that you wouldn't want nothing more now that he was back to you, as yours. You thought you'd be content with everything, even if you had to pick up the shattered remains.
But that wasn't the case. Not really.
Because every now and then, you still remembered how you betrayed him, and also the searing ache of heartbreak of when he left you.
...and so long as you still felt this way, you thought, it would be hard for you to be truly live the happy life your mother had wished for you.
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Something about you had changed.
Megumi supposed it was the effect of the trauma you had experienced, and so he never brought it up―it wouldn't be fair to compare the current you with the you before the incident.
You two were back to living in his apartment after you were discharged. Your voice had come back, although sometimes you still experienced trouble in speaking. But despite it all, Megumi didn't really care, he was ready to weather it all with you.
His sense of guilt intensified whenever he caught you touching your throat. Thoughts like "I should've been there." or "I should have never let her so unprotected" popped up in his head more often than he would have liked.
Both of you had gone back to the way it was supposed to be. Neither of you should have any prolonged worries... After all, Zen'in fiasco, from the unethical mass massacre and Naoya's doing afterwards, had been sorted out by Gojo― both of you were essentially free of them now.
So... why do you still look like you are on edge?
"I'll make breakfast today," he said on one morning after waking up. "Stay on the bed longer. I'll call you when it's ready."
You still looked positively sleepy as you pulled up the covers to your face and it warmed his heart. You were adorable, yawning and mumbling, "Thank you, Megumi."
He openly smiled, and went to the kitchen. A simple breakfast of beef and bacon would do, he concluded, and that was what he did. Afterwards, he did call and lead you to have breakfast with him.
You were still rubbing sleep off your eyes when he said it―
"Look, it's done―"
Suddenly you stiffened. Perhaps you were hypersensitive because it was still morning, but the way he said it reminded you of his words from that day.
“It’s done. We’re done. I don’t want to see you ever again.”
You tried not to let it show, as you sat in front of him. You really did, because Megumi seemed particularly happy this morning, you couldn't bear to burst his bubble.
"I personally prefer scrambled eggs over sunny side up, so that's what I made," he explained, motioning towards the plate with two servings of scrambled eggs with hints of a grimace. "Are you okay with it? Do you want me to make something else for you?"
"Ah, no, no... it's fine," you replied almost instantly, forcing a smile. "Thank you."
His lips curved into a gentle smile as he said, "You're welcome. Let me get that for you."
And that was when it happened. His hand brushed against yours―and in response, you retracted your hand away too quickly as if scalded.
Megumi was stunned. "Sena...?"
He looked at you, and noticed the faint tremor that passed through your body. In that moment, everything around him crashed once again.
Why?
"Are you..." he was almost in disbelief saying it. "...afraid of me?"
"Megumi― sorry," you blurted out, not looking at him. "I―I don't feel too well. I'll have breakfast later... I'll go lie down for a bit."
Before Megumi could respond, you had already risen and exited the dining room. Adding to the weight on his already heavy heart, you didn't head to your shared bedroom but instead, to your old bedroom from before you moved in with him.
Suddenly he felt hollow. Memories of the past months flooded into his mind like a fast-paced train wreck.
Leaving you. No contact at all. Finding you in that pool of blood.
Everything that happened then, both of you couldn't possibly pretend that any of them didn't exist. At least, not anymore.
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It has been awkward few days ever since then.
This gnawing feeling inside you― the ache, it's still there. The guilt. The nightmare. It's still there. You just want all of them to disappear.
You love Megumi and you want nothing more than being with him. But at the same time, you don't want to be with him― not like this.
They said let bygones be bygones, but it was impossible for you to pretend you were content and everything was fine while you were haunted by the nightmares of the day you made that deal with Gojo and Megumi leaving you with nothing to say for yourself.
To be happy, you need a clean slate. Or at least a time for yourself to think it over.
And so you reflected hard on yourself. What you wanted for yourself, what you thought was best for both of you.
You felt bad for Megumi too. He was visibly shaken ever since that day, and yet you were only there, feeling numb and at a loss for words, only able to mutter nothing more than apologies.
In the end, it boils down to this. You couldn't run from it any longer. Even though it'd most definitely bring both of you pain and sadness, you very well know that if you survived this, then...
"Megumi, I'm sorry for... the other day."
A week later, on that particular evening, he had just returned from headquarters and you met him at the living room.
Megumi looked startled, before flashing you a warm smile. "Ah, that again? Don't worry, Sena. It's fine." Glancing at the clock, he turned back to you. "Oh, have you eaten yet? I bought takeout on the way home."
His smile looked off. You tried to push the uncomfortable feeling in your chest away.
You steeled yourself and looked at him right in the eyes. "Megumi, I... I want to talk to you. Can you... sit here with me?"
It was hard to pull this on him. Really, really hard. But you swallowed the weight and bit down your lip when he took a seat in front of you.
"What is it?" he inquired with concern. "Don't be that tense... you can talk to me about it, alright?"
So be it then.
"I... think we should consider having a divorce."
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Megumi never imagined he would find himself confronted with this very question a second time.
His first reaction was a blink. Then his heart sank to the pit of his stomach. And then a frown, before he exhaled sharply―
"Why?" his voice came out way harsher than he intended. For the life of him, he didn't understand why. He felt hurt. So hurt, in fact, you had no idea. "What is it that you're feeling this time? Why did you never tell me before this?"
"I―" Your voice faltered, caught off guard, yet your sincere eyes remained steady. "I'll tell you now."
Megumi could see how strained you were. You were clearly trying hard to keep yourself together. He wanted to hug you, but not before you explained yourself.
"Megumi, first of all... I want you to know that I love you." Your voice began to tremble. "I love you... and I'm sorry for using you and taking advantage of your feelings. And I'm happy being with you... That hasn't changed."
"I know it already." He clenched his fists tightly, wiling the pounding of his heart at bay. "Then why―"
"I feel like we've been avoiding this, I don't know―I'm sorry. In the end, it's more of a me thing―it's not your fault at all."
Megumi closed his eyes, suddenly he felt overwhelmed by it all.
"This guilt I've been carrying with me... and you..." you took a sharp intake of breath. "Maybe something is wrong with me― I kept telling myself that now you're with me and everything will be okay... I tried to convince myself, but then I can't forget the way you look on that day―"
"If it's that, then I'm sorry―"
"No," you quickly interjected. "You had every right to be angry. I don't blame you for that, Megumi. I'm not upset, not anymore... the problem is... it doesn't make it any less hurt."
Those words suddenly seemed to ring in his ears.
A sob broke finally through your lips. "And s-so long as I'm still not over all of this... then I-I don't think I... ―we... can be truly happy together."
God, why must your fate be this complicated?
Your unholy matrimony was not expected but falling in love was a blessing, and still, you ended up hurting each other. If you still feel hurt, then the same also goes for him―he too still carries the guilt for letting you face Naoya alone, regardless of how the circumstances justified his actions.
Megumi gritted his teeth in frustration. "And so, you suggest that we're better off having a divorce?"
You cried a little harder, unable to give him an answer.
“Can’t I do anything to make it better for you?” Megumi felt like a knife just lodged itself in his chest as he looked at your tear-streaked face. “I’ll do anything—everything you want me to do, just not this—Sena, please—”
“I… w-want to be happy, Megumi,” you managed to say amidst tears. “As much as I love you… I also want to love myself too… just the w-way my mother wanted me to.”
His heart was crushed, hearing you.
“I want us… to m-meet again in better circumstances,” you forced out the words. “With no one to force us or make us choose anything… a day w-when… we can freely choose each other…”
“I’ll always choose you.” Megumi’s voice wavered as he held back his own tears. “You don’t need to wait for that because I always will.”
A tearful smile formed in your lips in response. “Thank you, but I just… want more t-time… for myself, Megumi. To sort my life—my f-feelings... and everything else out.”
He let out a grunt, as the first of his tears slid down his cheek, before he squeezed his eyes shut and covered them with his hand. Pain throbbed in his head and chest. It was too much.
“Do you…” is this it? is this how it ends? “Can you… at least tell me… what you’re going to do from now on?”
Before, when he asked you this, you had no answer for yourself. But this time, you didn’t flinch.
“I want to go back to Kyoto,” you immediately replied. “I… want to start anew there. And honestly… I don't want to continue doing jujutsu any longer so... I think I’ll start a new business to get by.”
A new start. Leaving jujutsu sorcery behind. That life honestly sounds so nice to Megumi’s ears too he was tempted to follow your footsteps.
“That’s good.” His voice was thick and heavy, and you were on the verge of sobbing once again. “That’s… really neat..."
He didn't want this. He couldn't bear to let you go. He was desperate to find a way to make you stay with him.
"Is this... really, truly what you want, Sena?"
You sniffled. "...Yes."
It seemed as though the knife in his chest had been twisted and made his insides bleed. He still couldn't make sense of it. His vision kept blurring with tears.
But ultimately... you have to be happy. After all of shitshows in this screwed up life you two share... you deserve to be happy the most.
It was difficult for him, it pierced through the most tender part within him to utter these words—
"Then... let's do it. If it's want you want and you're sure of it... then I'm willing to let you go." Lies. All of them. "Just… —please just be well. Don’t get sick, don’t stay up too late, and don’t push yourself too hard—”
Your sniffles turned into sobs.
“And— know that…” Megumi willed himself so that he wouldn’t break down in front of you completely, taking a deep breath. “I want only the best for you. I love you— that’s why.”
You were sobbing again then, utterly heartbroken. You felt really bad, and yet you knew this was necessary.
As your parting words, you just wanted him to know—
"Megumi... f-for everything these past eight months… thank you," you managed to say, your voice choked with tears. "I’ve been happy with you… and I... I don’t regret meeting you even for a moment."
The knowledge that you did feel that way was like a consolation for him. Megumi was thankful too that he had met you.
. . .
. . .
. . .
And just like that, in that winter, your divorce was finalized, and you moved to Kyoto.
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Six months later
The idea of a fresh start seemed appealing. Living in Tokyo had become suffocating. She reckoned it was finally time to move forward and put everything to rest.
“Oh, Hana-chan! Where are you going?”
Kurusu Hana put her duffel bag on the floor, looking back to find an elderly woman—her neighbor in this apartment building, as she locked the door to her unit one last time.
“Ah, granny,” she greeted with a friendly smile. “You aren’t usually awake this early.”
“Nevermind that— are you moving out, Hana-chan?”
“Oh yeah… Granny, haven’t you heard? The landlady is about to double the pay rent. It’s too much for this shabby place. I don’t want to live here anymore.”
“Really?! That conniving woman… I’ll talk to my husband and find another place soon too!”
“Hehe, please do.”
“Best of luck for you, Hana-chan.” The granny said. “I’ll miss having hotpots with you... You have been a really bright presence here.”
Something inside Hana lurched at her kind words. “Ah… me too, granny. Please take care of yourself too…”
Someone would miss her even when she was gone. This notion, simple as it was, once seemed impossible to Hana. Living all alone by herself all her life, she had grown accustomed to such thoughts.
And in her first time falling in love too… the man in question didn’t even return her feelings back.
But as they said… life goes on. Even when Megumi never looked at her way, then it just meant that they were never meant to be. She couldn’t wallow in this ridiculous one-sided love forever.
“Yosh! Hana, it’s okay! It’s going to be fine!”
As she stepped outside, she realized that summer was here already. And with that she was even convinced— with the new season came a new beginning, and this time, she was determined to find her own happiness.
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“Ahh! It’s hot!”
Yuji stretched his arms in the air, scrunching up his face as he had a look around him. “Kugisaki, do you have any idea where we’re going next? Seriously, I can’t with all this temples.”
Nobara threw him a dirty look. “You are so useless. The very least you can do is look at the maps.”
“Well, it’s too hot here! And these view of temples and shrines are giving me goosebumps—”
“Hey! What you said counts as blasphemy you know! Kyoto is cultural heritage!”
Yuji then looked around. “Come to think about it… Where’s Fushiguro? Wasn’t he with us after checking in the hotel just now?”
“Ah, he said he wanted to go out a bit before we go to the exorcism site… He didn’t say where though.”
“Wha? Wait, we can’t go without him!”
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[Nov 21] Megumi: Sena, have you arrived safely? I hope you’re not having a rough time. If you do, you can tell me
[Nov 23] You: hi megumi! sorry for not replying—i’ve been so busy with moving in here, it’s been hectic. and yes, i’m good here! :)
[Nov 24] Megumi: That’s good then. Well, take care
[Dec 10] Megumi: I’ve heard there’s an earthquake in Kyoto. Are you alright?
[Dec 10] Megumi: If you see this… Please answer me. I’m worried
[Dec 10] You got 8 missed calls from Megumi
[Dec 10] Megumi: Are you hurt? I’m trying to find a bullet train ticket to Kyoto but none are available
[Dec 13] You: gosh i’m so sorry for answering now! it’s been chaotic. internet and electricity are affected by the damage :(
[Dec 13] You: but no worries! you don’t have to come here, megumi! i’m fine! i evacuated safely and my building is still standing!
[Dec 13] Megumi: That’s a relief… Do you need anything? I can get you some things. Bullet trains to Kyoto will run again tomorrow, I can go there
[Dec 13] You: no no! really, thanks, i’m totally okay! most of buildings here are earthquake-resistant so don’t worry!
[Dec 13] You: still, thank you for worrying about me, i really… really appreciate it
[Mar 15] Megumi: It's been a while. Have you been well?
[Mar 16] You: hiii megumi! haha, you don’t have to be that formal, really. it’s been good here. cherry blossoms have bloomed, they’re so pretty!
[Mar 16] You: what about you? are you busy these days?
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You had left everything behind in Tokyo—your life as jujutsu sorcerer, tears, nightmares, and sadness, or as much of it as you possibly could, at the very least.
Starting over was hard. You almost regretted it several times especially when the lonely nights were too much for you, or when earthquake shook Kyoto and left you reeling.
But at the same time, it brought you satisfaction. When you successfully opened your own small cafe just last week, it felt like all your efforts had finally paid off.
It felt good to stand on your own two feet. To do things you want. With no one to dictate what you should do. By all means, this is the dream life you've wanted... you just wished that your mother could’ve seen this too.
Spending time for yourself has been healing. And life is far better here, but still...
You miss Megumi. How could you not, especially when he occasionally sent you a text? You were touched that he was still trying to stay in touch at all, and also how he showed his concern for your well-being.
But it was now May... and he hadn't replied to your text since March.
You tried to brush it off. After all you got the divorce for this very reason. You wanted to regain your sense of normalcy again— "normal" as in before everything went down with Zen'in mess.
But perhaps someday, when you're ready, if he would still have you... then maybe...
Brushing off your thoughts and maybe, longing, you left your phone to attend new patrons when the bell to your cafe jingled.
Unbeknownst to you, after unconsciously waiting for him this long, your phone buzzed and its screen lit up with new notifications—
[May 3] Megumi: Today, I'm in Kyoto
[May 3] Megumi: I miss you, Sena. I really do
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✩°。 ⋆ next -> last chapter : to the one i love
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classypauli · 2 months
Text
She’s the Man
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Pairing: Jenna Ortega x fem Reader A/N: You guys... this one drained me out. I still can´t believe the feedback I´m getting. You are the best!! From the bottom of my heart thank you 🤍 happy reading ;) Warning: grammar mistakes, spelling errors Word count: 3.7k
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3
Chapter 4
It was friday afternoon, Y/N was sitting in her last class, looking out of the window. She wasn´t listening to her professor. Her mind was currently thinking about the spider web she was put in. Or more like she created.
It was her fault as well. If she had been more careful and more unnoticing, this wouldn´t be this hard. And to be honest? What was she even thinking? She really thought that everything would go back to normal?
She wasn´t Charlie and she would never be. Even when they were twins. Same yet so different.
She let herself be lost a little and completely forgot about her brother. Her friends now know her as her, they know her personality, what she likes and dislikes, her hobbies, and how she acts. But they don´t know her by her name. Confusing. How is she even going to explain this? Or would they act like she wasn´t him the whole time?
Before she even noticed, her professor already ended the lesson. She slowly picked herself up from the chair, took her books, and walked out of the class. Y/N made her way to her locker, opened it, and found some paper. She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. What is this? It wasn´t hers, she was sure of it. The tall girl looked around the hallway if she would catch someone but nothing. She pushed it in her bag and walked away to her dorm.
This morning Mason texted her, reminding her of today´s plan. Georgie offered them his house, actually his parent´s house, but he didn´t want to hear them saying that. They are probably going to order some takeout, play some games, and have fun. Y/N was pretty excited.
She was now taking an afternoon nap. She loved afternoon naps but the worst thing about them was when you fell into a deep sleep and woke up with a sweaty forehead, barely knowing where were you or what year was.
She talked a little with her brother, he was slowly ending his tour and should be home next week. She didn´t tell him about her. About Jenna. Y/N didn´t know why but she wanted to push it as far as she could. The girl didn´t want to think about it if she didn´t have to yet. That´s probably her worst habit of her, leaving everything to the last minute.
„Go! What are you doing?!“ Georgie shouted as he stood up from a couch with a controller in his hand. They were playing a Mario Kart, competed against each other and some were a little more competitive than others.
Y/N and Mason laughed at him, holding their stomach in the process, tears in their eyes. Oh boy, it´s been a long time since they were laughing this hard. Georgie´s character crashed his car into a wall and couldn´t move from the spot. He was so frustrated by it that he was yelling the whole time with his legs moving up and down.
„Shut up! I can´t concentrate!“ they kept laughing, now leaning into one another, Mason´s arm around her shoulders still having a fit of laughter. He was playing against Hunter who was calmly laying on the couch, his character riding his car without any trouble. He slowly made it to the finish line and looked up at the boy beside him smirking slowly.
„This was unfair!“ he shouted at them making excuses for how his controller was broken and telling them how he wanted to go again.
They argued a little but he wasn´t giving up so they gave him one more chance. Which was by the way failure again. So he just folded his arms and sat on the couch, pouting like a little boy. It was so much fun.
This whole thing was Mason´s idea and it was, to be honest, so fine. As the girls were in the kitchen, the boys were in the living room waiting for them to be finished while playing some video games. They were making homemade pizza and some pasta. Gideon was amazing in the kitchen, she knew everything and it was clear this was her thing. She was enjoying it so much.
While making the food, the girls were drinking red wine. They weren´t drunk, saying that they were just tasting the wine. Well, whatever works for you.
After they finished everybody went into the living room. Relaxing music was heard around the room, Y/N was sitting in the big armchair, quietly enjoying the pizza while listening to others conversations. They talked about school, the next football match, their families, favorite childhood memories, and more. It was relaxing, seeing her favorite people getting along, and laughing together.
Through the night they got to play Monopoly, Uno and even started singing songs. They got pretty drunk but not much. Y/N with the urge to pee stood up to go to the bathroom, she made it there, did her thing, and was now washing her hands. Y/N felt arms around her from behind, hugging her, head in between her shoulder blades. By the hands, she knew who it was. The girl turned around and was met with Jenna´s eyes, her chin now on her chest, looking up in her eyes. She was more clingy these days, always smiling, leaning into her, or holding her hand. Y/N of course didn´t mind.
„Hi.“ Jenna smiled still looking into her eyes. Y/N looked up from her feeling a little bit shy from her gaze.
„Uhm... how´s going?“ Y/N asked making a thin line with her lips as she looked down at the smaller girl again.
„Amazing.“ That was all she said. The wine got her a little but she didn´t want to admin it. Jenna now felt a lot more confident and relaxed. Most of the time when she is around you she feels nervous, but not in a bad way, more like she can even feel her heart beating in her chest. With a little help from wine, she wasn´t even noticing that now.
„Why don´t you want me?“ Suddenly it got quiet, you could start hearing your breathing. Jenna asked the question in a low voice, as she was afraid of your answer. You raised an eyebrow at her, not getting her question. When did she get the idea of you not liking her?
„I don´t understand.“ Jenna kept looking at you with her eyes getting lost in yours, looking almost desperate.
She sighed and now put her forehead against your sternum with closed eyes „Every time we have a moment you rush away from me.“ She got even more quiet after that, in this position she felt vulnerable. „It hurts me when you do that.“
You put one hand against her back and the other on her head, hugging her, you kissed her head slowly swaying her to the sides.
Now you were outside. In the backyard of the house, there were loungers with blankets and pillows. It was the perfect time of the year when Saturn was most visible in the dark like this.
They were lying down looking at the sky above them, pointing at constellations and falling stars. You were lying down in Jenna´s lap leaning against her chest and her lying on the lounger. She had her hands around you, slowly stroking your hair, blanket over your legs. She was again in your hoodie, she decided that it was now her favorite type of clothing. You gave it to her when you saw goosebumps on her arms from the cold.
Others went to sleep, saying they were too tired, some fell asleep right on the couch, like Georgie, and others managed to make it into the guest room.
Y/N and Jenna were still lying there, alcohol which was in their bodies already faded. The taller girl was thinking about what Jenna said to her, and how she felt. Y/N doesn´t want her to suffer. She doesn´t deserve it. This unfair feeling towards Jenna is growing. It grew to the stage where she knew, she needed to do something about it.
You slowly looked up at her, she was looking up at the stars, with her hands still in your hair. She felt you move and saw you staring at her. You told her to switch and now you were the one leaning into lounger. She was standing above you, not knowing where to put herself. It was cute but you also felt a little bad, she was doing it because she didn´t want you to be uncomfortable.
Y/N opened her arms, waiting for the smaller girl to join her. Her eyes flashed and she slowly sat into your lap sideways, arms around each other. Both of you were looking at the stars above you, sharing heath between bodies. With your arms strongly around her, she felt protected. It was just you and her, in this position, silently watching the endless universe. It created a feeling that when you two are together, you can manage to do anything. You got her, she got you.
You were having convos about most random things. Each time you said something funny, she laughed and you hugged her a little tighter. You both stopped and now you remembered her words in the bathroom from not long ago.
„I´m sorry...“ you started looking at her „I didn´t want you to feel unwanted.“ Stroking her hair behind her ear. She furrowed her eyebrows softly, looking down at your hands around her. She knew what you were talking about.
Jenna smiled almost sadly at you „No it´s okay I understand-„
„No, please... let me explain.“ You put your finger against her lips, shutting her down, her big eyes now giving you their full attention.
„I... I want you to know that I didn´t mean to make you feel like that...“ you gulped, not knowing how to explain to her in the best way. 
„...I-I just... there´s something I´m currently dealing with and...“ you looked up from your lap where she was sitting to her face. You cared about her, more than you even realize. You wanted to say everything to her, what´s bothering you, how you feel, why you act like this. She deserves to know. Jenna wanted to know it too, it was clear to her it was something serious. But she didn´t want to push you, she wanted to have your full trust.
You thought about the right words to use, but in this position, with Jenna on your lap, arms around each other, looking into one another with so much adoration... your mind just said the most important words. To make her feel better.
„I want you Jenna.“ You whispered gently.
Jenna breathed out the air from her lungs as a stone fell from her heart. She was preparing herself to hear that you only like her as a friend or that you aren´t looking for a relationship right now, which she would absolutely understand. But it would hurt her a little, she didn´t want to lie. That´s what she deserves for turning down every guy who ever looked her way.
But hearing you say those words. She shook with excitement. The girl pushed herself up, and sat into your lap with her thighs on your sides now, looking at you with her soft doe eyes.
You grabbed the smaller girl´s thighs pulling her a little bit more close to you. Her arms were around your neck, playing with your hair gently. Your inhales started to get harder and couldn´t breathe regularly. Jenna kept staring at you with her face relaxed and patiently waiting. With chests joined together, both of you felt your hearts beating fast. Like talking to each other, craving for their connection.
Jenna moved her hands to the sides of Y/N´s face, looking into her eyes. The tension was so strong someone could cut it with a knife.
You slowly leaned into her, bending your head to the side. She understood immediately what was happening, couldn´t believe it, finally after dreaming and craving for it for so long. Slowly following your action and connecting your lips.
Your emotions were on top, you have never felt like this. Kissing Jenna´s soft lips was so addicting. She was holding your head between her hands, pushing you closer and closer, feeling your lips touching, enjoying every move of them. She looked into your eyes, almost breathless, looking hot with her chest rising up and down, her dimples softly showing at full display. In a second she grabbed you again pulling you into another kiss, this time smiling into it.
Your chest was completed, it finally found the other heart.
The next few days went by fast, Y/N spent every day with her friends but also thinking about her issue. She feels more anxiety and now even her friends can feel it from her. She is most of the time tense or just staring blankly to nowhere, thinking about the best way how to explain it.
Right now the girl is with Jenna, they are studying for the upcoming chemistry test. A table full of books and papers, Y/N groans and lets her head fall onto the table.
,,It´s too much” she mumbles which her classmate only laughs at.
,,Come on, there´s not much left.” Trying to energize her back. Already three hours passed since they started. Y/N doesn´t hate chemistry, even though it´s definitely not her favorite, she thinks it can be a fun subject if you are learning interesting things. But right now it only brings her a headache. Y/N puts her chin on one of the books and looks at Jenna. The girl is buried in a book, focusing on her studies, looking effortlessly beautiful.
For almost her whole life it was hard for her to let someone in. She didn´t have a problem with anyone, she just trusted herself the most. If someone told her that she would meet someone with whom she would be connected like the girl in front of her she wouldn´t believe it. She adores Jenna so much, that she can´t get enough of her, there´s no topic that she would be bored of when she´s having a conversation with the girl.
She adores how she talks and the way when she´s talking she uses her hands. She adores the dimples that pop out of her cheeks when she smiles. She adores her lips and her voice and her laugh, especially the one she can´t hold and forgets to put her hand in front of her.
She adores her opinions and how she is always trying to bring the best out of others, how supportive and creative she is. Her sense of humor and her brightness.
The girl knew she liked her, more than a friend, and her feelings were only growing each time she was with her. Y/N would do anything to keep her in her life, she needs to say it to her. She´s going to do it. She doesn´t care, not anymore.
To Y/N, Jenna was special, she was someone for her only. Finally, she felt like she also deserved something just for herself. At least one time in her life she wants to be selfish, she deserves it.
Neither Y/N nor Jenna didn´t talk about the kiss, but they weren´t shy about it either. With holding hands, smiling faces, nonstop texting, and hanging around, the two girls became almost inseparable. After that night, they didn´t share another kiss, even though they should talk about it because there are many feelings unsaid.
Not knowing saving it for later may bring unwanted issues.
Charlie was walking down the street, and finally, he was back. He came yesterday and to be honest, he was pretty excited. He missed Y/N and his parents, and friends and spending time with them. Right now he is going to get a coffee at the local coffee shop, he should meet some of his friends over there who want to catch up.
,,Charlie!” he heard his friend David from one of the tables beside the window. There was sitting his friend group. "Missed you, man! How was the tour?" They ordered and started talking about everything he got to see. Showed him photos and videos, and even let them listen to some of the new music he started to make.
He was so happy that finally, he could be back. Charlie called his twin, saying that he was home already, they were going to meet tomorrow because of school. He loves his sister, what she did for him wouldn´t do to anybody. Because of her, he could go on the tour he wanted. He owes her and he is ready to do anything to repay.
,,Charlie?”
Jenna was sitting by the table, enjoying a quiet Wednesday and cool weather. Today was pretty cloudy, people were walking with their umbrellas in hands, ready to use them if the rain started. It has been like this since morning but still no sign of rain drop.
Listening to music while slowly drinking coffee, is one of the things she enjoys the most, in the back of the cafeteria, having a clear view outside of the window but also people in here. She is waiting for Emma who was still in the class, they agreed to go shopping today.
She puts her headphones down as the waitress comes to her asking if she needs anything, Jenna pays for coffee, sitting in her seat a little more. Now she´s looking out of the window, somehow her thoughts goes to you, making her smile. You are always in her mind, even when she´s not with you in the moment. Your smile and your eyes are the only things she sees these days. She likes you. You are the first person ever in her life that she thinks about like this. Her feelings are serious and she hopes yours are too. After your kiss, she can´t stop thinking about it, about your lips on hers, your hands on her body, and how you were like puzzles. You were her other half she was trying to find. Jenna wanted to be with you and she´d do anything to be with you.
„Charlie?“
Jenna heard someone call from the entrance. She raised her head and looked that way. She saw a group of people at the table opposite her. She double time checked if she saw right, at first she thought her mind was playing tricks on her but she was sure you were sitting at that table, your back to her.
She saw a girl running to you, the one who was yelling your name, you stood up and hugged her. She was now confused and felt a little jealous of the girl. It was clear you both know each other and maybe even more than she thought. She furrowed her eyebrows at you. You have never told her about any of your friends, except Mason, Hunter, or Georgie. You barely talked about your family, only mentioned your sister and that was only because she asked.
Still looking at both of you holding each other like your life depends on it. Your friend pushed herself from the hug and put her hands on both sides of your face. Jenna´s heart started bumping, harder and harder. Please no. Oh God please no.
But she stopped completely breathing when the girl kissed you, hard on the lips. And you kissed her back, holding her waist.
The brown-eyed girl´s heart broke. She has never felt pain like this like someone was strangling her. Tears started to form in her eyes, lips trembled as she watched the scene. She felt like an idiot. Was she really thinking that something could be between you? That you liked her?
She stood up from her legs and rushed out of the coffee shop around the two of you with a broken heart.
Y/N was lying in her bed, phone in her hand. Enjoying the cloudy weather. Her brother texted her about their tomorrow plan and she was excited. The girl hadn´t seen him in so long, it was strange not having him around. As she was scrolling through her social media, dying of boredom, she suddenly remembered the paper she found in her locker couple of days ago. She shoots up to her legs, pulling the folded paper out. She opened it and what she found there, wasn´t what she was expecting.
Fell for you like a kid, first time riding a bike, like a tough ground scarred their knee, you scarred my heart. My wish is, to sit with you in an old chair, in the countryside somewhere, covered in a blanket, mugs in our hands, on your shoulder is my head, watching our sunset, knees touching, sharing heat, only you can make me pleased. I´m not a love poet, yet you are my love poem.
It was a poem. She sat on her bed as her head was trying to process what her eyes just red. On the left bottom was the initial. J.
It was clearly her. Y/N told Jenna she liked poems and she was enjying writing them. Now she wrote her one. Confessing her love.
She pushed the air out of her lungs. Slowly picking her hands up to support her head. She sniffled. Y/N didn´t know why she was crying, her heart was beating too fast almost like she was having a heart attack.
She barely cried, even when she was by herself. She hated when she was crying and she hated even more when she was crying in front of others. For the girl, it was embarrassing like she was fragile. Showing her weakness. For the longest time of her life, she was fighting with this. Y/N knew it was nothing bad to show this kind of emotion. But her mind was fighting back, and her heart took it all.
To her, Jenna was everything. After reading this she realized her true feelings and that she can´t keep Jenna in this lie anymore. She stood up from the bed, looking at now raindrops falling outside, fixing herself, and rushed out of the dorm with confidence. She´s going to say it to her. She´s going to confess. Jenna will no longer know her as Charlie but as Y/N. Finally as her. And how she loves her.
But if she only knew it was too late.
next chapter
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guacamoleroll · 9 months
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𝖓𝖎𝖈𝖐𝖓𝖆𝖒𝖊𝖘 「𝔪𝔲𝔩𝔱𝔦」 ༉‧₊˚
characters. bungou stray dogs. osamu dazai, chuuya nakahara, fyodor dostoevsky, nikolai gogol, sigma.
content. f!reader. mentions of violence, mentions of suicide attempts (dazai), alcohol (chuuya), harassment (chuuya), cussing, general sappiness. not proofread.
author's note. this started as a writing exercise to get my writing inspo flowing again, and then i began working on it on and off for a week. so enjoy! this is also an attempt to nail some of their character's down, so hopefully it isn't too OOC.
would you like to see more? join the taglist or comment under this post!
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synopsis. what nicknames do the bungo stray dogs boys call their girlfriend?
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𝗢𝗦𝗔𝗠𝗨 𝗗𝗔𝗭𝗔𝗜 ⋆⁺₊ ⸺⸺⸺
𝗗𝗘𝗔𝗥 ⋆ 𝗕𝗘𝗟𝗟𝗔𝗗𝗢𝗡𝗡𝗔 ⋆ (𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗘)-𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗡
The darkened alleyway had become thick with the stench of gunpowder and smoke, streetlights barely illuminating your path in the hush of night. You patrolled the area with quick, swift feet, hovering your gun near your hip in case of an ambush. Each step made your heart pound, sweat mixing with humidity to drench your skin as you inched toward the corner.
However, to both your dismay and prediction, Dazai wasn't taking this mission seriously—though he rarely did. It both aggravated and appeased you, knowing that if the situation became dangerous, he'd straighten up in a heartbeat. That didn't mean that his blissed smile and the skip in his step as he went on about the euphoria of death and the many methods he could die from didn't unnerve you.
Knowing him, he wouldn't mind getting shot.
"You know, my dear," he smirked, leaning close to your shoulder to whisper into your ear. "You're very sexy when you're serious." "Dazai," you chided, face stilled into an unamused expression. He fell back dramatically, flailing his hands into the air in surrender. "Oh, belladonna! That stern stare — I hope that beautiful expression is the last sight I see in this cruel world!" he cried, but much to his disdain, you had already rounded the corner, completely done with his antics. "(Name)-channnn!~ Don't leave me hereeee!"
𝗦𝗪𝗘𝗘𝗧𝗜𝗘 ⋆ 𝗛𝗢𝗡𝗘𝗬 ⋆ 𝗪𝗜𝗙𝗘𝗬
It had been a strenuous day at the office for everyone, including you—a plethora of insane missions always followed by mountains of paperwork that never seemed to end. It was almost too much to bear. You huffed, leaning against your hand as you desperately tried to not fall asleep due to your exhaustion.
A pair of large, warm hands rested on your shoulders, massaging just the right spots in your taut muscles. You sighed, allowing yourself to lean back in your chair and enjoy the temporary reprieve. However, the owner of those hands had different plans, hot breath blowing against your ear as he bent down to rest his chin on your shoulder. Dazai chuckled to himself, enjoying your immediate reaction to straighten up, eyes pointed to the screen in an effort to avoid reacting.
You were just too cute.
He cooed out a plethora of sweet nothings in a low, hushed timbre as he tempted a flustered expression out of your face. And one thing that everyone should know about Osamu Dazai—he always gets what he wants when he puts his mind to it.
"Heyyy, sweetie. How's the paperwork going?" You continued to type. "Why won't you pay attention to me!" he wailed, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as he slumped against you. "Come onnn, honey. Don't you love me anymore?" You typed harder. He sniffled. "My little wifey doesn't love me anymore." You paused. "Whaat? Too forward?"
𝗕𝗘𝗔𝗨𝗧𝗜𝗙𝗨𝗟
Only strays wandered the streets at this time of night, but Dazai found himself itching to join them with each passing second. Sleep never easily came to the former demon prodigy. He found that each time he closed his eyes, he was only met with flashes of the past and disillusions of the future. His sharp mind would continue to turn like a machine, processing every granule of information as if he were inspecting an hourglass—a process that had become routine for him.
"Osamu..."
However, your intrusion into his nightfall rituals had soothed his instinctual aches. His eyes glazed over your drowsy figure, admiring the displacement of your hair and the heaviness of your eyes with an emotion he could only describe as awe.
Because in these moments, you didn't even have to be awake and looking at him to make him feel invigorated—feel alive. And with you, he didn't hate being alive anymore, didn't hate acknowledging his human flaws and issues. He just embraced it, even for only a second.
The rational part of his brain dissipated when he felt your warm, bare skin brush against his bandages, snuggling up to him. He knew his brain became useless in your presence, overcome with pure adulation for your mind, your body, and your very soul. So instead, he pulled you close, nuzzling his face in your neck and listening to the rhythmic pulse of your heart as it worked to soothe him to sleep.
"Good night, beautiful."
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𝗖𝗛𝗨𝗨𝗬𝗔 𝗡𝗔𝗞𝗔𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗔 ⋆⁺₊ ⸺⸺⸺
𝗕𝗔𝗕𝗘
The murmurs of the restaurant had been dampened by a luxurious and vast velvet curtain, enclosing the entire booth to separate you from the other patrons. Lights sparkled from a dazzling chandelier, creating ribbons of gold and white on the tablecloth. This was a special occasion since you rarely had dates outside of your apartment. Chuuya always wanted to take you out more often, to show you off and treat you to the finest, but there never was time. So even when you insisted you could stay inside for a date this evening, he had already planned on spoiling you rotten.
He watched your expression between folded hands, hiding his smirk as the waiter set down an extremely expensive bottle of red wine. You had insisted on getting the more recent and cheaper version, not wanting to splurge too much—which, of course, insulted him. How could he not provide the best for his partner whenever he got the chance?
"Stop gaping, babe," he tutted at your widened eyes, tone lighter than the biting edge it usually held. "Whaddya say we snap over the 1959 Chateau Latour, hm?"
𝗗𝗢𝗟𝗟 ⋆ 𝗕𝗔𝗕𝗬
You had been working the late shift at your office building, slaving the day away only to come out on the other side with an aching back and a small paycheck. Despite Chuuya's suggestion that you could quit your job and let him take care of you, you wanted to maintain your independence and some additional money, which he understood. So here you were, trudging home from the train station with heavy feet and tired eyes. Seeing the apartment complex in the distance made your heart soar, a pep in your step as you started to practically glide down the sidewalk.
"Heyyyy, baby. Lookin' good tonight. That outfit for me, huh?"
Grimacing, you ignored the disgusting cat-calls from the random stranger in favor of increasing your speed to reach the building. You could practically smell the woody cologne coming from Chuuya's jacket, but your blissful thoughts were interrupted by a set of hefty footsteps behind you. This would've been normal during the day, but no one else is out this late at night—except one person.
With tremoring fingers, you lifted your cell phone ever-so-slightly, finding that strange man walking at a brisk pace behind you in the reflection. It set off too many alarm bells in your head, and your walking turned into sprinting.
It just so happened that Chuuya was leaning on one of the pillars outside of your apartment complex. He never liked when you worked the late-shift, and he definitely didn't like when you walked home by yourself—however, you had insisted that you would be fine. He relented, enjoying the independent aspect of your personality, but he still had his precautions.
He straightened up with a passive expression when he saw your shadowed silhouette in the distance, but his eyes narrowed, and his shoulders tensed once he spotted the man who was running after you. Using his gravity manipulation, he pulled you closer to him and had the pervert sink into the ground, sizing him up with burning eyes.
His gloved hand went to your back, easing your trembling body. "Go inside, baby. You don't need'ta be involved in this shit." He watched carefully as you rushed inside the lobby, before slamming the man onto the hard concrete, a foot digging into his spine. "Listen, shithead. You ever look at my doll again, I fucking swear to God—" He never let you walk home alone after this, not like you were complaining much. And that man would never bother you again, if he was even still capable of walking.
𝗣𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗖𝗘𝗦𝗦
It had been an absolutely draining day for Chuuya. With his position as an executive, you would assume that he wouldn't have to deal with the low-life freeloaders that the Port Mafia was bound to have, but it was exactly the opposite. He had been stuck for hours finishing a bunch of incident reports due to the destruction of properties on the southwestern side of Yokohama—incidents he was somehow not involved in.
He groaned as he entered the apartment, shrugging off his jacket and hanging it with his hat before a hearty aroma hit him. He followed his nose to the stove, finding an intricately wrapped dish with a note taped on top.
Make sure you eat before you go to bed. You need to grow big and strong. Love you! ♥
If it were from anyone else, he would've ripped the note apart when he hit the jab at his height—and he definitely scowled a bit—but there was a hint of endearance in his expression. He lifted the tin foil covering the food, feasting on the sight of penne alla vodka.
A raspy sound took him out of his ogling, his eyes scanning the darkened living room to find the one person he had been dying to see—you. And what a sight you were, drool trailed down your chin, a half-empty dish of pasta lying limply in your arms, and hair tousled as your neck bent at an awkward angle to rest against the cushions.
He couldn't help a small laugh at the sight, placing your plate on the coffee table and wiping the baby hairs out of your face, leaving a fleeting kiss on your forehead. In moments like this, with the disarray and train wreck his life had been, he found himself grateful for such simple, domestic sights. It enveloped him in a sense of peace, feeling at home for the first time.
"Hey, princess," he whispered with another peck to your temple. "I'm home."
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𝗙𝗬𝗢𝗗𝗢𝗥 𝗗𝗢𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗘𝗩𝗦𝗞𝗬 ⋆⁺₊ ⸺⸺⸺
The pet names featured below are in Russian.
𝗗𝗘𝗔𝗥
Fyodor rarely, if ever, used nicknames of any kind in public. With his specific occupation, it would be detrimental to reveal any kind of attachment to anyone, regardless of whether you were capable of defending yourself. However, rarely does not mean never.
It was an unusual occasion; a completely public date at a local café—you knew that he loved his tea and suggested it in the off-chance that it would possibly sway him to join you. You assumed that he'd say no, but he always found himself having a hard time denying you when you proposed it so sweetly.
However, you knew that you needed to be efficient with your time. You enjoy each other's company in a secluded corner of the café while also multitasking on your own work. The room emitted a wonderful ambiance that made you feel productive and inspired, though it was simultaneously cozy enough to relax in—for you, that was. Most of Fyodor's work required him to be in seclusion, so instead he enjoyed the view—both of the skies outside and a couple of stray glimpses at you.
"Drink for (Name)," a barista called.
Fyodor looked toward you expectantly, but you were far too in your own little world to notice. He would've normally broken your workflow, but he found himself oddly compelled to let you continue—he was awfully fond of the way your brows narrowed as you concentrated. So instead, he retrieved your drink, settling it on the table with a small clink.
"Here you are, dear."
𝗠𝗜𝗟𝗔𝗬𝗔 (милая) ⋆ 𝗥𝗔𝗗𝗡𝗔𝗬𝗔 (радная) ⋆ 𝗟𝗨𝗕𝗜𝗠𝗔𝗬𝗔 (любимая)
It was in the privacy of your shared home that his native tongue came out, engrossing you with his rich Russian accent—he knew the effect it had on you, so sometimes he toyed around with you by slipping it into everyday interactions.
You walked into his computer room, careful to not trip on wires as you carried in a steaming thermal mug of fresh black tea. He was often far too engrossed in his work to eat or drink, so you found the least you could do was to make him some tea whenever you weren't busy.
You placed it next to him, leaning over to take a curious glance at the screen—not understanding a word of it—and you were about to silently exit when he placed a cold hand on top of yours. Your brow raised, watching the smile that appeared on his lips.
"Thank you, милая." You sputtered over your words at the praise, watching in anticipation as he took a sip. He hummed at the nectarous flavor, slouching as the tea worked to soothe his throat. The tea circled in the mug as he swirled it, watching carefully as he could feel your composure melt away. "Delicious as always, радная." You mumbled a quick thank you, turning like a gazelle on your heel to escape his predatory gaze, but his hand pulled you back. Completely captive in his hold, you looked back, a knowing smirk on his face. "Stay for a moment, любимая. I'd like to hear your thoughts on something."
𝗠𝗬𝗦𝗛𝗞𝗔 (мышка)
You honestly had no clue how you had gotten into this position.
One moment, you were cleaning around various rooms, making sure everything was dusted and organized. The next, you were sitting in Fyodor's lap—though you couldn't say you minded. An occasional hum vibrated against the top of your head as Fyodor concentrated on a book in one hand, the other fastened securely around your waist, rubbing circles into the clothed skin.
It took every ounce of self-control you had to limit your face to a neutral glance, staring at the words in his Russian novel as if you were trying to decipher them—you were; you didn't know a lick of the language. You leaned against his shoulder, listening to the faint thump of his heartbeat as it lured you into relaxation. His eyes began to drift from the page, finding your internal struggle incredibly amusing. He titled his face, holding back a smirk when you made a startled noise from a kiss to the temple.
Cute.
In these moments, he felt human again. Everywhere else in the world, he was either treated as a god or a demon—and that was the way he had orchestrated it. But here, in the home you both created, he felt that he had finally received his sanctuary. A place where he sat, welcomed and unjudged for his sins.
"You're quite warm, мышка," he teased. "Perhaps you are developing fever. Hm?"
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𝗡𝗜𝗞𝗢𝗟𝗔𝗜 𝗚𝗢𝗚𝗢𝗟 ⋆⁺₊ ⸺⸺⸺
The pet names featured below are in Ukrainian.
𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗞𝗔 (ластівка)
The fluorescent lights above burned your eyes as you scoured the aisles of the store aimlessly. You were on your weekly grocery run but had decided to make something different for dinner this week. There was only one problem—you didn't know where the ingredients were. You normally would've just asked one of the staff members, but you had unfortunately come into the store at a very late hour. Every time you looked at an employee, their eyes were glazed over as if wishing for the sweet release of death. So you decided to search on your own.
You scanned the shelves for a particular dressing, not finding it in its usual spot. It was only with a quick glance to the top shelf that you found it, teetering on the edge as if tempting you. Gritting your teeth, you outstretched your arm as you braced your other one on a lower shelf, only to shriek at the feeling of two hands supporting your hips. You whipped around to find the pervert who had touched you but found nothing. And then you looked down.
Damn him.
Two familiar gloves emerged from golden portals, and a mischievous chuckle accompanied their exit from down the aisle. You looked the white-haired jester up and down, crossing your arms with a pout.
"Did you have to startle me like that?" "Ohhh, sorry, ластівка," he cooed. "I only want to say hello!~"
𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘𝗡𝗞𝗔 𝗠𝗢𝗬𝗔 (маленька моя) ⋆ 𝗠𝗢𝗬𝗔 𝗞𝗢𝗞𝗛𝗔𝗡𝗔 (моя кохана)
How did you manage to get into this mess?
Oh yeah, Nikolai suggested it.
The classic jester, in his hobby of wreaking havoc everywhere he goes, suggested a fun date-night idea—to light bin fires around the alleys of Yokohama until the police caught on. At first, you had been chasing after him in an attempt to stop him, but it had all been in vain. He would let you grab him, only to chuckle as he teleported away with his cape. So instead, you opted to stick by his side and make sure he didn't cause too much harm.
You stood a couple of feet away from the blazing fire, your body resting in the tranquil glow of the chaotic light. Despite the oddities that came with the situation—and every situation that involved Nikolai—there was something so welcoming about the discord. Perhaps you had finally become used to Nikolai's antics. The aforementioned jester had been gaping at you for some time, an unreadable expression on his face as he watched your features through the fire.
"You look breathtaking in the glow of a flame, маленька моя."You stilled at his serious tone, fumbling over a response, but a crescendoing wail of sirens broke the silence. Nikolai smirked, grabbing your arm with one hand as the other went into his overcoat. "Oops!~ Looks like the police caught on. Come on, моя кохана! This way!"
𝗗𝗨𝗦𝗛𝗔 𝗠𝗢𝗬𝗔 (душа моя)
A refreshing breeze rushed past your face as you settled, watching the sun make its descent below the horizon of the city's harbor. Your legs dangled dangerously over the edge of a steep cliffside, yet you found no fear remaining in your heart. Perhaps you have become accustomed to a life of chaos; find beauty in the entropy and contradictions of life.
Nikolai couldn't help but stare at your face as it was outlined by the shadows of the dying sunbeams, awe-struck by your beauty. You were ethereal to him, everything he ever wanted to be and wished to have—so grounded and yet freer than ever. He knew that the relationship between you two, something neither of you had dared to label, should've made him feel constricted. It tied him down to the ground, and he should've been fighting for the skies.
But he didn't.
He felt free. And he knew that it was most likely his heart tricking him, stringing him to a relationship that would disappear with the wind—that he had truly become the fool everyone thought of him as. But he didn't care. Not anymore. Not with you by his side.
He snapped out of his philosophical contemplation as a soft hand cupped his cheek, thumbing at the performative mask that he wore. And he folded it like a deck of cards, removing it before placing a chaste kiss on your palm.
"Somehow, I feel freer than ever before. And it's all thanks to you, душа моя."
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𝗦𝗜𝗚𝗠𝗔 ⋆⁺₊ ⸺⸺⸺
𝗗𝗘𝗔𝗥 ⋆ 𝗗𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗧
It was a known fact that the Casino's manager had a rigid schedule, packed with meetings and event dates that he had to prepare for. Everything had to run perfectly inside his casino, and he would be damned if it didn't. However, Sigma always made it a mission to purposefully bump into you throughout the day. He had memorized your schedule easily, finding that there was only so much you could do in a finite building in the sky.
He would often find you either in the library or viewing deck, either in your own world reading a book or watching the real world from the skies. Even he had to admit that he could never get tired of the sight of the Earth from down below, contemplating the lives of those who lived on the ground.
"Good morning, dear," he greeted you at the entrance of the viewing deck, noticing a stack of books in your arms. "I see your trip to the library went well." "It was. I'm going to thumb through the newest shipment of fiction novels this afternoon," you replied, your hand already tapping on one of the hardcovers in anticipation. Sigma always made sure to buy the best books for the casino, and you knew he was often swayed by your own favorites. "I'm glad you're so interested in them." He knowingly smiled before a memory came to mind. "Could you hold off your reading for one moment, dearest? I've received a new layout for our casino's fliers and was hoping you'd take a look."
𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 ⋆ 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗟𝗬 ⋆ 𝗦𝗪𝗘𝗘𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗧
The anxious casino manager often forgot to eat because of his destructive work habits, often going hours without consuming anything in order to constantly maintain peace in his casino. It was a terrible habit that caused more stress for both of you, so you decided to enact a plan. Whenever you noticed his workload was becoming too much or he seemed too frazzled, you'd step in to make sure he was getting everything he needed.
A small (underlying word: large) part of him secretly reveled in this, both having the opportunity to be doted on—and be simultaneously scolded—while also relishing in a couple stress-free moments with you. And he also gets to enjoy your cooking, which he personally found better than the casino chefs'—but that's because he was biased.
On his worst days, you'd prance into his office after the casino lunch rush, carrying in tow a small bento packed with his favorite comfort foods and a cookie for dessert. He would look up from whatever paperwork he was slaving away on, a small smile on his tired face.
"Thank you, my love." "You really need to eat more, Sigma," you lectured, placing the bento on his desk to take his face into your hands, analyzing his eye-bags with a concerned expression. "You're gonna get sick." "I'm fine, lovely," he replied, cupping your hands with his own. "You don't need to worry about me." You struck him with a pointed glare, crossing your arms and tapping your foot as he began to work on paperwork again. The clock ticked by a couple of seconds, your maternal scowl deepening with each moment that passed where he didn't reach for the food. "Sweetheart," he sighed before relenting and reaching for the bento. "Fine. For you, I'll eat some. But only until C4276 finishes his blackjack game."
𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗢𝗙 𝗠𝗬 𝗟𝗜𝗙𝗘
The casino had been blasting with the sounds of the band in full swing long into the night, people dancing and chatting amongst themselves as the casino reached the peak of its ability. This new gala had been an exhilarating success, drawing in new patrons as cash flowed out from dealers' hands. It had been perfect, but it was obviously a lot on Sigma.
That was the reason you insisted on co-hosting it with him. He watched in amazement as you worked the crowd tonight, acting in concert to keep the patrons happy and to maintain order. You had been his perfect match, which showed just how much you watched over the casino.
He found you later that night standing on your private balcony, pausing at the entry to fully take in how beautiful you looked in your formal ensemble. The stars seemed to drift to your body like a satellite, casting you in a distant heavenly glow. But everything was silent as if you two were the only ones left to watch over the world as the clouds wandered by.
The anxiety and fear he always felt had been pushed to the side, melting away with the utter sense of belonging that you had engrained into him. You had shown him that he wasn't a mediocre man but a capable and strong individual capable of loving and being loved. You turned as the balcony door shifted open, welcoming him into both your arms and heart.
And he fell for you even more.
"Ohh, love of my life," he mumbled, nuzzled into your shoulder. "What would I be without you?"
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милая = dear/darling радная = dear любимая = beloved мышка = mouse ластівка = swallow (bird) маленька моя = my little one моя кохана = my love душа моя = my soul
ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @imhandicapableofmath @seisitive @solandiss @ruru-kiss @sillyspookycat @kotysluny
© ɢᴜᴀᴄᴍᴏʟᴇʀᴏʟʟ 2023 — ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ʀᴇᴀꜱᴏɴ. ʜᴏᴡᴇᴠᴇʀ, ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴇɴᴄᴏᴜʀᴀɢᴇᴅ
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inthelquvre · 4 months
Note
finnick odair who wants nothing more than for you to let him play with your hair the night before the quarter quell to calm his nerves.
warnings: fem!reader, small mentions of panic attacks, trauma : (, mentions of snow being a dick, fluff and sadness : (
a/n: thanks for the request! i tried to make this as in character as possible lol. big thanks to everyone for the reblogs and likes!!!! i love you all loads!!!!
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finnick odair was the strongest person you knew, you were sure of it.
he held his head high and scolded people that had offensive comments. he was strong physically too, he knew how to handle a weapon, how to defend himself against an enemy. all of those things that made a victor a victor.
unfortunately, finnick hadn’t shown you the other side of him. he had never shown anyone. but now, after the announcement of the quarter quell being played with previous victors? he fell apart like a house of cards victim to a harsh wind.
you were barley holding yourself together too. the victory of your games had only come by the fact that the other tribute from your district, your friend, killed the last opponent before himself. it was a long and painful and treacherous game that you had barley made out of alive, forever cursed with the nightmares of the fallen tributes. forever cursed with the thought of death plaguing your mind. forever cursed with the loss of a friend. and forever cursed with the fact that you, a teenager, were seen as desirable to the citizens of the capitol.
little to your knowledge, finnick was cursed with the same tragedy. countless nights the two of you shared the same experience of curling deep into your bed and letting salt stream flow out your eyes and into your ears.
the first time you were aware of your shared experience was the night after president snow had announced that the quarter quell would be played by previous victors. your name was called, then his— finnicks. the two of you were pulled back behind the stage where you broke down on the cold cement floor. it seemed to come naturally, finnick to you. he fell to his knees beside you, muttering soft words of comfort while rubbing your back gently. you noticed the way his hands were wet with his own tears when he brushed a strand of hair out of your face.
finnick had been your mentor, he would go as far to say he had been your friend, but when you arrived back from your games with bloodshot eyes and bruised knuckles you disappeared. no one, not even your parents, heard from you for weeks. finnick tried his best to make you come out of the shell of your bedroom but everything seemed to remind you of the games— the bloodbath. and yet he still tried, for what? he didn’t know.
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12 hours.
that's how long you, and the other tributes had until you were thrown back into the ring.
you couldn’t sleep. the glass windows looking down onto the capitol somehow made you feel claustrophobic. the bedsheets and clothes provided by that capitol that were supposed to make you feel warm burned and blistered your skin, leaving you to strip into shorts and a tank top, goosebumps speckled your skin but you couldn’t feel them. you were sure you were about to pass out, maybe then you wouldn’t have to fight.
until a soft knock sounded on the metal door.
your breath hitched, you tiptoed over and slowly pulled it open.
there, in all his glory, stood a restless finnick odair. he swallowed, and you could see the redness in his eyes, similar to how yours had once been. “hey… i’m sorry, did i wake you?” his voice was soft, much softer than anything you had ever heard from him.
“no, no, not at all…” you replied with the same tone as his. in an unspoken way, you opened the door to invite finnick in.
his bare feet squeaked against the cold floor but you didn’t say anything.
your throat made a weird noise but he didn’t say anything.
you sat on the bed, twisting the sheets between your fingers. it was weird, finnick standing in your room, looking weak. finnick wasn’t weak, was he?
“i’m really sorry—“ he started. his voice trembled and you frowned. he wasn’t weak, he was scared.
the clothes on your skin suddenly didn’t feel like lava, the bedsheets didn’t feel like fire. and you could tell finnick felt the same way. you patted the spot next to you and he sat down wordlessly.
when he was closer you could see the tears sitting on the edge of his waterline. the way his chin moved as if he was about to cry. your heart broke alongside his. “oh, finnick…” you sighed. the urge was to strong, you reached out and gently tugged his wrist towards you. his big body fell against yours with a sigh. “shh…” a hand went to rub his arm, the other finding its way to his golden hair.
the night went on long and finnick soon found himself positioned between your legs with his head on your chest. your hands in his hair. his hands wrapped around your middle.
it didn’t seem as weird as it should have. it felt natural. just like how it was when he comforted you for the first time. his eyes were shut, focused on the soft drum of your heart. it relaxed you too, his soft hair in between your fingers. “i’m sorry.” the boy finally murmured, his eyes still closed.
“oh finnick, don’t be sorry.” you were so soft with him, he didn’t have to be tough. “i needed this too.” a soft smile spread across your face and you couldn’t deny the way blood rushed to your cheeks when he tightened his grip around your middle.
“tomorrow…” he started, very soft. so soft you almost didn’t hear. “tomorrow i’m gonna promise to protect you, got it?” your heart fluttered.
“yeah, i got it. i’ll protect you too.”
finnick smiled. “thanks.”
and the next day he lived up to his promise, even if it meant a lecture from haymitch afterwards.
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baby-yongbok · 1 month
Text
Sun Shower & Golden Hour
Han Jisung x Reader
☼ Genre: Fluff ☼ Summary: Jisung wants to kiss you in the rain. ☼ Word Count: 1.4k
☼ This One shot was Inspired by the song Golden Hour by Jvke
☼ Story Playlist: For You - LeeHi (ft. CRUSH) | Golden Hour - Jake | Exist for Love - Aurora | Belong to you - Sabrina Claudio | Say yes to heaven - Lana Del Rey | j's lullaby - Delaney Bailey
✧ Masterlist ✧
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The sunset in Seoul is on another level tonight. The golden rays reflect off of every surface it can reach, creating a beautiful field of deep orange around you. It was Jisung's idea to go on a drive, he wanted to get out of the house and proposed that the two of you grab something to eat and find a place to sit. It started raining shortly after you picked up your food but the last thing on your minds was going home. You drove around, the savory smell of your meals taunting you as you searched for a pretty shot to park and eat. Once Jisung found the perfect spot you set up quickly, eating and talking like you haven't been laid up on each other all weekend. 
The car fell quiet when the rain picked up a bit. There were barely any clouds in the sky, the early evening sun caught the reflection of each droplet that fell from above. Turning it into a drop of honey for just a second before it pooled on the concrete. The view that the two of you found was beautiful. It's a small spot, almost hidden, you'll miss it if you don't look for it. It overlooks the Han river at a breathtaking angle. There's just enough room in front of the car that you could have a picnic here if you wanted to. You'll remember that for next weekend. 
“Baby.” Jisung calls to you before taking another bite of his food. “Wanna do something?”
You hum, swallowing what's in your mouth and keeping your gaze on the evening view. “Like what?”
“I dunno.” He stares down at the food container in his lap, pondering his thoughts for a second before a soft grin pulls at his lips. “Can I kiss you?”
A light chuckle escapes you and you cover your full mouth as you smile. “You've never asked permission for that before, Ji. Of course you can.”
He closes his container, stuffing it back into the take out bag excitedly. “Can I kiss you… in the rain?” You turn to him, taking in his wide and eager smile as he waits for your answer. 
“You wanna do that tik tok thing?” You ask with a grin. Jisung can be sweet sometimes - all of the time - but he's never wanted to do something like this.
“Yeah, I wanna do the tik tok thing. Do you wanna?” You close your food container, putting it in the bag with his and brushing off your hands. You stare out into the rain for a second, taking in its beauty and considering his offer. 
“I dunno.” You sigh, it would be super romantic. 
“Last one out of the car drives home.” Jisung rushes his sentence as he turns to exit the car. He pushes his door open quickly, stepping out into a puddle and cursing through his gleeful giggles. 
“Jisung!” You giggle, scrambling to get out of the car, you step over the puddle on your side and slam your door shut. The cold rain sends a shock to your system and you fumble with the zipper to your hoodie, pulling it up further as an extra layer of protection. 
Your boyfriend is close to the edge of the small cliff that you're parked in front of, taking in the view as the pouring rain flattens his now curling hair. He's caught in the golden hour sunset, causing his eyes to shimmer like freshly tapped tree sap. The smile adorning his lips is sweet like maple and you find your heart bursting at the seams at the sight. 
“Look at this.” You gaze with him. Taking in the moment like you're the main character in your favorite romance novel. That's how Jisung makes you feel anyway. Alive. Loved and untouchable. 
He reaches for your hand, turning to you and pulling you closer to him. He's cold to the touch and you're both soaking wet but everything warms up once he smiles down at you. His cheeks growing red with a cherry blush. Has the sun created a shield around the two of you? Preserving the moment in an eternal glow for both of you to enjoy. You smile at the thought. 
“Come here.” He wraps his arms around your waist and you snake yours around his neck. He leans in, brushing the tip of his nose against yours. “You're pretty.” 
You smile up at him, a blush as red as his creeping up on your lips. “Kiss me.”
“Happily.” He raises a hand to cup your cheek as his lips brush against yours in a feather light kiss. You can't help but to smile against him as he kisses you again, harder than before. He sighs and his eyelashes flutter against your skin. He mimics your smile, trying his best to fight back a giggle as he deepens the kiss. 
“You're making me laugh.” He whispers against your lips, causing you to smile wider. “Jagi, come onnn.” He whines at you, resting his forehead against yours. 
“I'm sorry you're just so cute, baby.” He rolls his eyes playfully, running his thumb over your cheekbone. 
“Well then let me be cute and have this moment with you without you making me smile like an idiot.” He leans back in, brushing his lips over yours and falling into a deep passionate kiss. It's your turn to sigh against him as you savor the feeling of him, soaking wet yet warm. Sweeter than the purest honey and making you happier than anything else you've ever prayed for. You relax into him, taking it all in when he smiles, breaking the kiss and squeezing his eyes shut with a faint chuckle. 
“I was being serious and now you can't be!” He laughs harder at your exasperation. Resting his head on your shoulder as he tries to calm himself.  
“I'm sorry I'm sorry I just couldn't help it.” He stands straight, looking down at you with sparkling eyes. “I just… love kissing you. I feel so happy every time I get to feel your lips on mine. You're like a dream.” 
He brushes a strand of wet hair sticking to the side of your face behind your ear. He lets his touch linger for a second or two as he takes you in. The sun is creating a halo around you like it's presenting him with the celestial gift of you. Is he falling in love all over again?
“How did I get so lucky? There Isn't a day that goes by where I don't ask myself that question. You're everything that I could ask for and more. You're everything that I've ever wanted, all that I'll ever need.” Tears well up in your eyes and fall with the rain. They catch in the sunlight and become golden fractals before they can hit the ground.
“Ji…” You turn your head into his palm, snuggling into his touch and kissing his wrist. “You confessed already, ya know.” 
He smiles, shaking his head and wrapping his arms around your middle. He picks you up, spinning you and pulling a surprised laugh from your chest. He laughs with you as you call out his name, a half hearted plea for him to put your feet back on the ground. When he does set you back down he kisses you quickly. wrapping his arms all the way around you and holding you flush to his chest. 
“I'll keep confessing.” He rubs his hands up your back, smoothing the wet fabric against your body. The rain has slowed now or maybe he's made time stop around you. "Call it practice for my vows. I want to tell you that I love you in every way that I can think of. I find a new way to appreciate you every day.”
“I think that I'm the lucky one here.” You mumble as you search each other's eyes. “I love you, Jisung. So much, I love you endlessly. You make me so happy, I had no clue what it was like to feel this way until I met you and I never want to let it go.” 
He looks away for a second, blinking up towards the sunlight in an attempt to keep his tears at bay. “Dance with me?”
“We're gonna catch a cold.” You laugh but Jisung shakes his head.
“We're already wet, why not dance before we go.” He can see that he's convinced you by the way that you look up at him, he can also tell that you never truly planned to object at all. “Pick a song.” He moves to hold you in a ballroom dancing position, squeezing your hand lightly once it's laced with his. “I'll sing it, any song.”
“Golden Hour.” 
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A/N: I'm sorry if this sucked. I was listening to Gold Hour by Jvke at 3 am and just started typing away. I suck at fluff and I'm so nervous to post this.
Thank you for reading, I hope that you enjoyed! Feedback and reblogs are extremely appreciated! All support makes my day. 💕
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lewmagoo · 2 months
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six summers | bob floyd
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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...
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@withahappyrefrain @rhettabbotts @ryebecca @up-thereinthesky @oldfangirl30 @attapullman @sebsxphia @delopsia @damrlova @fairyheart @hangmanapologist @laracrofted @callsignspark @bobfloydsbabe @milesmillergf @bradshawsbitch @bradshawsbaby @floydsmuse @senawashere @creatchie8
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amoreva · 18 days
Note
Hii I’m so sorry if your request are closed, I didn’t see anything saying if they are or aren’t, but I was wondering if you could write Luke Castellan x Daughter of Aphrodite reader. I don’t really have a prompt in mind other than that. If you don’t want to write if or if your request are closed I totally understand and feel free to ignore this.
COLUMBA
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pairing: luke castellan x daughter of aphrodite!reader
summary: you were doomed from the start you were claimed as aphrodite’s daughter. you were doomed from the beginning you joined the hunters of artemis, you were doomed when you saw luke castellan
warnings: pre-tlt, angst, betrayal, alluding to kiss, main character death, spoilers to the last olympian, spoilers to the titan’s curse
a/n: ik this is not accurate to being a hunter of Artemis but i thought it was an interesting concept, so apologies and bare with me on this! also bare with me on columba being a constellation in pre-tlt. it’s all to fit the story and plot. idk if I liked this one as much. lmk if you guys do!
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In every hero story, the protagonist had fatal flaws or in other words weaknesses. Superman had kryptonite. Green Lantern, the color yellow (in your opinion it was a stupid weakness). Annabeth has admitted numerous times her fatal flaw was hubris. Percy couldn’t tell, but his was his excessive loyalty.
And you?
Yours was love and love led to you easily trusting something which ultimately led you to your naivety.
So, you joined the Hunters of Artemis; trying to make the futile attempt to escape your flaw.
“I pledge myself to the Goddess Artemis. I turn my back on the company of men, accept eternal maidenhood, and join the Hunt.”
Your mother was not thrilled when one of her daughters swore off love and into maidenhood. Additionally, your charmspeak would not be proven useful as a Hunter.
One sacrifice for your life.
You thought it would be the perfect solution to escape your fatal flaw. Artemis required her hunters to reject all forms of romance. If you did happen to fall for a man, you would meet the same fate as Kallisto. If you fell for one of your fellow hunters, you could bargain.
It was perfect.
Until Mr. Greatest swordsman of his time weaseled his way to your heart (again.) The first time was when you arrived at Camp. It was your mother’s revenge: rekindling a past crush you got rid of ages ago.
Luke Castellan managed to flash you one charming smile when the Hunters of Artemis were resting at Camp Half-Blood (much to the displeasure of the hunters).
Your swore your heart beat at least twice as fast as usual when you saw him pass by and flash you a smile. He was as cute as you remembered yet mature and responsible. Quickly, you reminded yourself if you fell—Artemis would turn you into an animal.
“In and out, a week at least due to winter solstice.” That was what Artemis promised the hunters for their duration at Camp.
It only took you a week to fall in love all over again.
After another easy win of Capture the Flag for the Hunters of Artemis, you found yourself in the vicinity of Luke everywhere. He seemed curious. The girl he knew two years ago as the daughter of Aphrodite was now a Hunter of Artemis.
He thought you died due to monsters or refused to come back to camp. Look at you now, a beautiful silver glow and circlet complimenting the beauty you had. Your personality still the same. Aphrodite made his heart beat a little fast when he saw you again.
It was bad. It was really bad.
Guilt twisted in your stomach at the thought of breaking Artemis’ oath. You were not as distrusting and peeved at the thought of men like some of the other Hunters were. You were still relatively new to being a hunter, about a year or so.
You even began to talk to Luke in secrecy, so your fellow Hunters would not pull you away. You knew you fallen for the boy hard when he did some kind gesture. You were still a girl after all.
You should’ve stayed Aphrodite’s daughter. You shouldn’t have ran away from your weakness.
Artemis was supposed to come back the last day the Hunters were staying at Camp. Many girls, like Zoë, were glad to get out of Camp, out into the wild. You…not so much, but it would do you good. Yet, your mother’s plan for revenge was complete.
“Would you still love me if I was a worm?” You asked the night before Artemis came back to camp. Hands twisting in one another as you stared at the moon.
Luke chuckled. The more he talked to you the more he loves your way of talking. He’s heard this question before as a joke from Chris, but the serious look on your face dispels the humor.
“Yes, of course. I’d buy the best damn place for a worm and take care of you still.” Luke reassured and put a hand on yours. Your silver glow fading and fading as your heart beat for him.
“I’m serious.” You conveyed.
“I am too.”
“Luke…I—” You took a moment to compose yourself. “I don’t know what will happen when Lady Artemis comes back tomorrow. She’ll be hurt and disappointed I broke my oath and—and kept this from her. I’ll be turned into an animal when she sees me—she’ll know…”
Luke hears the guilt and panic in your voice. He sees it in your expression. “Hey…hey.” Luke soothed and shushed your worry. “You told me you could bargain if you fell in love with one of your hunters. Maybe…you can do it for this?”
“I can’t…” You denied and shook your head.
“You are the daughter of Aphrodite—surely Artemis will understand.” Luke reassured you and pulled you into a hug.
“I was the daughter of Aphrodite.” You spoke into his shoulder.
“Maybe your mom and Artemis are fighting about this right now?” Luke suggested to try and make you feel better, but he knows better than anyone that the gods and goddesses won’t fight for their kids.
You fell into silence. That silver glow that all Hunters had had completely faded. Your heart hurt with guilt and shame. “Listen.” Luke whispered soothingly into your ear. “Whatever animal you turn into, I will not love again. You will be my first and last love.”
“Luke…you can’t just swear off of love . It’s useless—” You protested. You failed and you doubt Luke would be able to do it.
“I swear on River Styx.” Luke said firmly. The crush that rekindled after so long felt like fire through his and your hearts.
Your first and last kiss was shared by Luke Castellan. It was bittersweet and everlasting.
You confessed to Artemis with downcast eyes the next day. You broke her oath and met the same fate as Kallisto. Aphrodite would be mad at the goddess, but that did nothing to stop her from turning you into an animal.
A dove.
An ironic thing to be turned into.
You were visited by Artemis once more after that crucial day. It was out of pity. The Goddess, herself, knew you would succumb to your emotions as the daughter of Aphrodite. She had warned you once and yet you insisted on joining the Hunt.
You did not deserve a place in the stars, not with your story.
And yet, Artemis pitied you. She forgave you. She ended your life as a dove and blessed you to live in the stars. Just like Kallisto and her son. And soon, just like Zoë Nightshade.
You wondered if Aphrodite wept for you when a new constellation was added to the night sky.
Columba. A faint constellation with the Latin name dove.
Luke stared at the faint constellation as he laid on the battlefield, having stabbed himself. He was to be judged in the Underworld and condemned for all the crimes he committed by being Kronos’ Lieutenant.
Columba was made up of a blue subgiant and a runaway star.
Your story was a reminder that no one should run away from their fatal flaw. That other half-blood should face their weakness head on.
Columba. Luke’s first and last love. The last thing he’ll see in his life.
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