#i could cry ... it's the build in the last 2 pictures

[moonwoodhollow]

sleepless nights in Tomarang

[oddinary4bts]

Chasing Cars | ch 12 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters have mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: jungkook is stubborn and it leads to some sort of miscommunication?, reader feels cheated on, alcohol, clubbing, cursing, promises to exes fuck everything up basically

☆word count: 7.3k

☆a/n: new week, new angst-filled chapter :') I hope you guys still love it :') thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing, you're the best <3

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Saturday, May 4th  

You’ve barely slept. Whenever you close your eyes all you can picture is Jungkook and Gabrielle. Gabrielle and Jungkook. 

Just a friend from high school…

You don’t know why, but that lie is the one that hurts the most. Maybe because you thought he was opening up to you, telling you about his past, but he’d shrugged it off, lied about it like it was just second nature. It’s sour, bitter, and you think you might hate him for it.

You feel cheated on. You’re fully aware that you weren’t dating, that you were just a maybe, but you hate that it was taken from you just like that, in a stupid video call from your drunk brother…

It really does taste vile, bitter, sour, and everything in between.

Ria left earlier today. She had to work, but she told you to invite Yoongi or Nabi, to not isolate yourself. You don’t feel like seeing anyone - yes, you could be miserable with Yoongi, but you don’t want to hear the told you so that your friends will say in the aftermath of what happened last night.

Taehyung didn’t even text you once. You wonder if he saw you crying, before Ria hung up the call for you. If he did, you think he’s unbelievably cruel for not even texting you anything, but then again maybe that had been his plan all along. To show you Jungkook’s true nature, the one he’d hidden from you in the last few months.

Were there any other girls? If he’d so easily kissed his ex after just a few days in Paris, does that mean he might have easily done the same thing here, with other people?

You feel nauseous. Thinking about everything makes you feel nauseous.

As does the text that sits on your phone, sent early this morning, while you were in and out of your troubled sleep.

[4:23 am] JK: can we facetime tonight

You haven’t replied. You don’t even want to talk to him, or see his face. You don’t want those treacherous doe eyes to ever meet your gaze again and yet…

Yet you want some closure. You want to tell him off, to break him like he broke you, but that would be assuming he felt for you the way that you did. Which, you highly doubt since he kissed his ex like you’d never been in the picture to begin with.

You sigh, rubbing your face, trying to keep the tears in. They keep sneaking up on you, like you’re not done grieving for what could have been, and frankly, you don’t know if you’ll ever be. You reckon the first step in the right direction might be to seek that closure, to talk to him and be done with it, permanently.

You didn’t think there was a time when you’d have to be done with Jungkook. Everything that you were building, everything, now just rubbles that will slowly turn to dust.

And so you finally open your phone, heart squeezing uncomfortably as the conversation with him pops up. You ignore the texts from before yesterday night, those where you believed he was falling in love, too, and you reply,

[2:09 pm] You: sure at what time

You put your phone away after you press send, sighing deeply as if that might shake the weight of the world off your shoulders. You figure you should stop rotting in bed - it’s not like it’s helped make you feel better - and so you get up, heading to the kitchen.

You’re not hungry. You’re not hungry, but when you see the spicy ramyeon he bought to help train your spice tolerance, you can’t help but crave some. Because you don’t want to let him go, don’t want to let go of all of him. So you put some water on the stove, preparing the noodles as if that might change what happened last night.

It doesn’t. The only thing it does is make you realize that you’ve indeed improved your spice tolerance, as you eat and you barely even have to sniffle. It makes you sad, far too sad, because what was the point?

What was the point of developing a spice tolerance if you won’t eat with him anyway?

Tears pool in your eyes, and this time you don’t bother keeping them in. You let them flow freely, memories of him swirling in your mind. You think about every time he cooked for you - that first time on Valentine’s Day. You think about New York, about every night you’ve spent cuddled up in his arms.

There won’t be any new nights, any new memories. Everything that you and Jeon Jungkook once were is in the past now, to forever haunt you.

You push the noodles away. You’ve only eaten half of the bowl, but the thought of eating more makes you feel sick to your stomach. Instead, you drop your head on your arms on the table, body rocking with sobs.

You don’t even know why you’re crying so much. Why your body holds so much pain for what Jungkook did, when part of you had been expecting it all along. Yet you break and break, like you’re glass thrown from the roof of a building, exploding upon impact with the ground.

It takes a while before you stop crying, the post-tears clarity filling your brain. You straighten, wipe your cheeks and the snot on your upper lip, and then you get up. You throw away the rest of the noodles, and then walk back to your room, trying to hold onto the clarity. 

You slow down in front of Jungkook’s door, imagining him to be behind. To never have gone to Paris…

It only makes you want to cry again, but you’re done crying. 

You don’t want to be crying for someone that cheated on you.

You finally make it to your room. Your phone awaits you on the night table, face up to the ceiling so that you can see that Jungkook texted you multiple times. You steel yourself, grabbing your phone, and then read his texts.

[2:28 pm] JK: we’re at the restaurant rn [2:28 pm] JK: so maybe in an hour and a half? [2:29 pm] JK: we finally went to the catacombs today [2:29 pm] JK: you were right it’s hella creepy

It’s like he’s unaware that he broke your heart, that he destroyed the trust you had in him. It makes you think, did you imagine everything that happened yesterday?

Was it all just a nightmare?

You wish it was, but the tear stains on your sheets are proof enough that it truly happened.

[2:35 pm] You: call me whenever

You spend the next hour lying in bed, looking up at the ceiling, trying to chase him out of your thoughts. Trying to figure out what you’ll tell him: there’s no way you’ll pursue a relationship with him now that that happened. But maybe he’ll have an explanation, reassurance that not everything was a lie…

You don’t know if that would make you feel better. Maybe relieved in some way, yes, but the throbbing in your chest would likely not be lessened by such reassurance. You fear it’d be worse. It would mean losing something that was real, and you don’t know if you’d survive it.

When your phone finally rings, you consider not picking up. You consider ghosting him, disappearing from his life before he has the power to hurt you more, but you’re weak for him.

Far too weak, and you pick up after a few seconds.

He’s obviously called on Facetime, and the moment he comes into view, a soft smile on his lips, you feel like you’re breaking all over again.

The last time you saw those lips they were pressed against another girl’s mouth.

“Hey,” he greets you.

You can’t find it in you to speak around the lump in your throat, so you just offer him a tight-lipped smile. He frowns, eyebrows almost touching over his eyes.

“Is something wrong?”

Of course he’d notice, but… is he that oblivious? Anger cuts through the sadness, and you raise your eyebrows.

“Don’t you have something to tell me?” you ask.

His frown deepens. “I…” he trails off, and then something changes in his demeanour. The frown disappears, his lips part and his eyes widen, filling with fear. “You… Is this about Gabrielle?”

You laugh, so bitterly you taste it on your tongue. “Are you being serious?”

“Yes?” he lets out.

He looks terrified. It’s a strange sight, and it makes unease settle deep in your stomach.

“Tae called me last night,” you reveal.

“Oh.” He pulls on his piercings, eyes dropping. “Oh.”

“What the fuck was that, Jungkook?”

Your question strikes him deep. You see it in the way his shoulders drop, like he’s burdened with the weight of the world.

“Nothing happened,” he tries.

But he doesn’t meet your gaze.

“I saw you kissing her,” you spit. “Don’t fucking lie to me.”

“Peach…”

You scoff, yet the nickname brings tears to your eyes. “What the fuck was that?” you ask again, and you hate that your vision is turning blurry, hate the way that you are so completely, irreversibly weak for him.

“It really isn’t what you think it is,” he says.

“You spent the evening locked up in a room with her.”

He closes his eyes, and his phone shifts just enough so that you see his surroundings better. He’s in a park from the looks of it, much like he’d been when you’d facetimed on Wednesday.

“I promise it really isn’t what you think it is,” he insists. He meets your gaze, his big doe eyes so pained you almost want to believe him.

You sigh deeply, and a single tear falls on your cheek. You dry it with the back of your hand. “What was it then?”

A muscle feathers on his jaw as he clenches it, yet he remains silent. His lips stretch in a thin line, horror filling his gaze.

“I really thought…” 

You can’t finish the sentence. I really thought we’d work. You can’t finish it, as your heart breaks and breaks and breaks until you’re back to where you were last night, struggling to breathe as you’d watched him kissing her.

“I made a promise to her years ago,” he admits, his voice wobbly. “I can’t tell anyone, but I swear, peach, it’s not what you think it is. I’d never do that to you.”

“But you did!”

His mouth opens and closes a few times, like he wants to say something but can’t.

“I can’t…” you trail off because you don’t want to say it. 

You don’t want to be the one to kill the relationship when it hasn’t even started yet. Though you reckon he killed it when he kissed her.

“I can’t be with you,” you whisper, as if the words can’t be uttered aloud.

“Peach…”

“Stop calling me that,” you burst. “Stop fucking calling me that when you basically cheated.”

He frowns, his jaw clenching again. “We weren’t even exclusive.”

“Excuse me?”

Undiluted rage consumes every inch of your body, taking away the pain. All there is is the blaze of anger, and it burns and burns until you think you might turn to embers.

“I don’t know why I said that,” he immediately replies, eyes so wide he looks like a deer in headlights. He takes a deep breath and swallows as the movement of his Adam’s apple shows. “Please just trust me on this.”

“No, Jungkook,” you say. “I can’t trust you when it took you all of a few days with your ex to end up kissing her.” You close your eyes, shaking your head. “You told me Gabrielle was just a friend.”

“And she is!” he says. “She really is, peach. She’s nothing like you.”

“Why the fuck did you kiss her then?” you ask, blinking away tears the second you open your eyes again.

“She kissed me,” he answers. “She kissed me when Tae opened the door. I didn’t even know he was on the phone with you.”

“You’re aware that it sounds like lame-ass excuses?” You scoff, shaking your head again. “I can’t fucking believe you. I should have listened to Colton.”

You see the blow that it is to him. His waterline turns silver, and he clenches his jaw hard. His shoulders drop even more, and you think you hear the sound of breaking.

You doubt he deserves to be breaking over his own mistakes.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “Peach, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you as soon as I’m home, and then we can…”

“There’s no we,” you interject. “There’s no we anymore.”

“Please.” He’s begging. You never thought you’d see a day when Jeon Jungkook would beg for you, and it hurts fiercely, replacing the anger.

You’re on a roller coaster, and you don’t think you’ll ever be able to get down. 

“What did you promise her, Kook?” you ask, your voice infinitesimally small.

He closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I promised her I’d never tell anyone. So I can’t tell you.”

You’re crying again, though this time it sweeps in softly, gently. No rocking sobs, no shaking hands. Just tears, heavier than the sun, rolling down your cheeks.

“Then there is no we anymore,” you whisper.

Because you can’t be in the shadow of his ex. There can’t be secrets between the two of you - especially not when his parents want him to marry her.

“Peach, please.”

“Stop, Jungkook.” You shake your head as more tears spill from your eyes. “Stop.”

“But I can’t lose you,” he says, and you think you spy a tear on his cheek too.

It feels out of place, like it’s a waterfall in the desert, or maybe oxygen in space.

“I can’t be with someone who keeps secrets from me, Jungkook.” You pause, taking a deep breath in to give yourself courage.

“But it’s just…” he trails off, and you watch as defeat takes over him.

You wonder if he ever had to fight for anyone before. If he even has it in him to do it. Though you don’t think you’d want to be with him even if he fought for you. 

Not after last night.

“It really is nothing,” he finishes, though he sounds just as unconvinced as you are and that, most of all, tells you that it is truly over.

You and Jeon Jungkook weren’t meant to be together in this universe after all. You should have known - you saw the signs and chose to ignore them. Maybe because your pink-tinted glasses coloured the red in such a way that it became the most beautiful colour you’d ever seen.

But now that the glasses are gone, you think, were you just blindsided all along?

“Have fun on the rest of your trip, Jungkook,” you whisper.

“Peach…”

“Do not ever call me that again,” you say softly, but you mean it.

You can’t afford him calling you that.

He tries your name, but you shake your head no. He curses underneath his breath, clearly unaware that he did it loud enough for you to hear, and then says, “So that’s it?”

You shrug, like you don’t care at all when in reality it’s taking everything in you not to break down right now. “That’s it,” you confirm. “We don’t even have to tell Tae.”

He nods. “Okay.”

Okay.

Everything, crashing down into a single flat word. Everything, ending on a note of heartbreak that rings and rings in your head until you think you might go insane.

You should have known you weren’t the muse behind the song, behind the poem and the art. You’d always been meant to break away, weren’t you?

You don’t remember hanging up. All you remember is staring at your reflection on the screen, and the sound of your breaking heart in the background.

*****

The thing with the end, it’s that it never really is just the end. The end of something is the beginning of something else, and sometimes the new beginning is better, sometimes it’s worse.

You think beginning your life post-Jungkook in a club might be good. The distraction of the flashing lights, loud music and alcohol is an effective one, yet you know it for what it truly is: escapism.

You don’t know how Ria and Nabi convinced you. You do like clubbing, but Nabi hates it. So maybe it was the fact that she suggested it, that she said it’d be fun that made you want to go. You even invited Yoongi, but Yoongi said he wanted to have a night in, so it’s just you girls tonight, and you reckon it has to be enough.

You follow Nabi past the coat check, waiting for Ria as she drops off her own jacket. A few seconds later Ria meets with you, and she hooks arms with you both to head towards the bar.

“Let’s get some shots before we go dancing,” she suggests, almost screaming so that you can hear her over the sound of the music.

“Dancing?” Nabi lets out.

“What do you think clubbing is for?” Ria teases, and you offer a half-hearted smile at that.

In other circumstances you likely would have laughed, but a smile is a good start, no?

“I don’t know,” Nabi grumbles.

You reach the bar, and you stand behind a group of four guys who are also waiting for shots, or so it seems. You glance at them, and your gaze meets that of the one who’s leaning against the bar, looking your way. You politely smile out of reflex, looking away a second later as you try to focus on Ria and Nabi’s now surprisingly heated discussion about the pros and cons of clubbing.

You think clubbing is good. Clubbing is empty mind, busy body, and right now it’s all you need.

It’s all you need not to run back to the Facetime call this afternoon, and the finality of Jungkook’s path in your life.

You close your eyes, take a deep breath and slowly let it out. Though your heart is aching - it hasn’t stopped since this afternoon - you’ve been good at ignoring it. At pretending that you’re fine, that you didn’t lose something that mattered to you far more than you should have let it to begin with.

You don’t think Jungkook deserved the devotion you had for him. Not when lying to you, when refusing to tell you the whole truth is more important to him. And you’ve gone down a spiral after the call. Stalking Gabrielle on social media, understanding why he kissed her in the first place.

If you were even a little bit gay, you too would probably want to kiss her. She’s attractive, elegantly so, in the same way that all people who are born into old money are. She’s from the same universe as Jungkook, has a beautiful smile and striking green eyes that you can only envy. Her hair - somewhere between blonde and red - is also amazing, probably because she has the money to maintain a good hair care and skincare routine.

You do have your own skincare routine too, but nothing that having a lot of money can pay for.

“Hey, you girls want shots?” one of the guys says, mostly in your direction.

Maybe because Ria and Nabi are still bickering next to you.

“Huh…” you let out, heart momentarily stumbling in your chest as you look at Ria next to you.

You nudge her, and she finally acknowledges the guy, staring him up and down once before smiling her ‘I’m on a mission’ smile. It works right away: the guy smirks, extending a hand for her to shake.

“I’m Jacob.”

She unhooks her arms from yours and Nabi’s, shaking his hand. “Ria. And this is Y/n and Nabi.”

You nod your head and wave weakly in greetings, and Jacob mirrors the motion before setting his gaze on Ria again. 

“So, do you want them shots or not?” he asks.

She tilts her head to the side prettily. “Sure, we’ll take them.”

And that’s how you find yourself downing shots with guys that look straight out of a frat - Jacob, Chad, Elijah and Lucas. Lucas is the one who smiled at you earlier, and he easily finds his way to your side as you drink the shots.

After that first round, Lucas suggests a second one, and you all end up downing Jaggerbombs, the sweetness of the Red Bull contrasting the taste of the alcohol in just the right way. Ria suggests heading to the dancefloor next, and no amount of pleading gaze from you and Nabi makes her change her mind.

She truly is on a mission, and you think it might be partly because she needs to stop thinking about Seokjin. Not that you would ever tell it to her face though.

You end up dancing with Nabi, both of you slightly uncomfortable with the unknown males. In another world, you’d probably be dancing with Lucas, indulging in his company, but right now the last thing you want is to sidle close to a man.

Pretending isn’t making you forget how, just a little under a week ago, you were breathing Jungkook in like he could be the oxygen in your lungs. 

You tense. You fucking tense, and Nabi immediately notices, leaning in to say in your ear, “Everything okay?”

You shrug. “I’d do without the guys, but I guess it was to be expected with Ria in a club.”

Nabi winces, offering you an apologetic look. “Do you want to go?”

“No,” you say, shaking your head. You even snort at the way her features fall in disappointment. “Do you?”

“I don’t know,” she admits.

The song ends, blending into another one, and you pull her to the side as a girl walks behind her, parting your group.

“Do you want to go to the bathroom?” you suggest.

She pouts, looking up to the ceiling as if in deep thought, then nods her head enthusiastically. “Yup, let’s do that.”

You chuckle, and then you pull her towards Ria. Ria glares at you when you pull her away from Jacob, yet leans in when you make to speak to her.

“We’re going to the bathroom,” you tell her.

You don’t give her a choice. You grab her hand, pulling her behind you as Nabi leads the way to the bathroom. 

The music isn’t as loud in the hallway, the red lights giving Nabi’s white top a tint that makes it just a little creepy. There’s already a line, and you stand at the end of it, turning to face Ria.

“Can we do no guys tonight?” you ask her.

Her mouth falls open. “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t even think-”

“Don’t worry about it,” you reassure her.

She still looks apologetic, and it lingers for longer than just the bathroom trip - you have to pull her in a dance after you’ve taken more shots for her to stop looking forlorn. She’s reluctant at first, pouting, and you pull her closer.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“I’m really sorry,” she repeats. “I’m so dumb sometimes.”

You offer her a scolding look. “You’re not. Besides, it’s mostly for Nabi that I asked that.”

Ria glances towards Nabi, who’s dancing next to you but completely oblivious to the conversation. “Right.”

And that is that. Ria recovers her playful mood, and you dance and laugh and drink with your friends. You think Jungkook slips out of your thoughts on the fourth shot you down, and by the sixth, your mind is swimming in way too much drunk bliss to even feel the ache in your chest. It’s liberating - you feel like a bird who’s flying for the first time, and so you cling to the feeling as best as you can.

Nabi decides to leave before you and Ria, Namjoon picking her up on his way back from Yoongi’s place, where they apparently gamed together. You don’t care - you’re drunk enough to want to ride into the sunrise, to party until it’s light outside and the world has forgotten about your existence.

Luckily for you, Ria is one for such parties as well, and so you dance and dance and dance, taking another shot ten minutes after Nabi left. 

This time, when Ria pulls you back towards the group of guys, you follow her grudgingly. You even let the dancing tide push you closer to Lucas, who leans in and says, “Hey you”, in a way that makes you think maybe true solace lies in another person’s lips.

It’s early. Far too early. But you’re also far too drunk to care, and so when he pulls you closer to dance with him, you let him do so. You let him sway your hips to the music, let him lean his forehead against yours. Your eyes flutter shut, and you breathe in the same air, and the rhythm is everlasting.

You sigh in contentment. You’re back in New York, back at that DJ show you’d attended with Jungkook. It’s his hands you imagine on your hips, his breath that you breathe in, his sweaty forehead that rests against yours.

It’s him. Because it’ll always be him.

He kisses you, and you kiss him back, hands grabbing at his shirt. He kisses you all wrong - the lack of piercings a stark contrast to your usual.

It hurts. It hurts, and the hole in your chest gapes open wide.

You pull away from the kiss, eyes snapping open to see Lucas’s startled face. His eyes are brown, but they’re not Jungkook’s shade. And he doesn’t have that small scar on his left cheek, or the eyebrow piercing. He doesn’t have the mole under his mouth, or the doe eyes that you fell in love with.

“Shit,” you let out.

“Did I do something I shouldn’t?” Lucas asks, and he lets go of you immediately, as if you burn him.

“No,” you reassure him, yet panic is swelling in you, like the tide when the moon is high. “I just…” You shake your head, letting out a sound you know to be a broken sob. “Just got out of a relationship.”

“Babe,” Ria says from behind you, stepping in between you and Lucas. “Everything okay?”

“I want to go home,” you tell her.

She doesn’t know that you mean to him. She can’t know - you can’t even allow yourself to think so. Yet you can’t help it, the alcohol inhibiting the control you had on your emotions until you’re crying on the dancefloor, just a heartbroken twenty-something who might have flown too close to the sun.

“Please,” you add when she doesn’t react, just looks at your tears like they are foreign entities.

But then she snaps out of her drunken daze, and she pulls you away from the dancefloor, away from the reminders of Jungkook. She helps you get your coat while you sniffle to the side, your eyes red-rimmed. And then she helps you get into the Uber home, holding your hand all the way.

She walks you up to your apartment, but the second you’re inside Jungkook is everywhere, and you need the loneliness. You need to be alone, you need to be able to indulge one last time. So you reassure her, tell her that you’ll be fine, that you can hang out tomorrow, and then you push her out the door.

It takes you thirty minutes to shower and take your makeup off, and another five minutes trying to convince yourself that you should sleep in your bed.

You lose the fight, and you fall asleep in Jungkook’s bed, crying softly as his scent wraps around you like the embrace of a ghost gone too soon.

Tuesday, May 7th 

You’ve slept in Jungkook’s bed every day since Saturday, chasing him like you used to chase cars around his head. This morning, when you woke up, you made the bed, took one last look into this part of your life and then closed the door behind you like you’ll ever forget the hours you spent tangled up with him, fast asleep or losing yourself in him.

He’s coming back today. Taehyung is coming back today, and though you’d once wished for Tae’s return, now you’re dreading it. You don’t want to see him, don’t want to see Jungkook, or Jimin, or Sera, or even Ariane. 

You want to rewind time to the week before Jungkook left, but life doesn’t work that way, does it?

You finish work late, a while after they’ve returned from their trip. And maybe you sit in the car for a long time also, dreading the moment you’ll have to go in.

[2:39 pm] bröther👽: just landed [3:47 pm] bröther👽: it was a shitshow but we’re home [3:48 pm] bröther👽: ari is going to stay at ours for a few days [3:48 pm] bröther👽: we’re planning dinner? are tacos ok [4:31 pm] bröther👽: yeah so it’ll be tacos

You haven’t replied to any of the texts. You want to tell him that you’re good, that you’ll spend the evening locked up in your room anyway, but you can’t bring yourself to do so. In some twisted way, you want to see Jungkook, want to see if this is affecting him the same way that it’s affecting you.

You reckon that might make you a bad person.

You sigh, leaning your head back against the headrest. A car passes in the street, its headlights illuminating you for a few seconds before it’s gone, the dim neon light of the streetlights returning. 

You’re aware you can’t stay here forever. You have to go home, have to walk up the stairs and see Jungkook again. And so you take a deep breath, close your eyes for a few seconds so that you can steel yourself, and then you throw the car door open.

You can’t stop, can’t slow down. So you practically jog up the stairs after you’ve slammed the car door shut, locking it over your shoulder. And then you burst into the apartment, hands trembling as you still there to notice Taehyung and Ariane in the living room, lounging on the couch.

Jungkook’s bedroom door is closed, and you’re not sure if it’s a relief.

“Y/n!” Taehyung bursts, and he gets up from the couch to jog to you, immediately engulfing you in a bear hug.

You hug him back, fists closing around handfuls of his shirt, and you hide your face in his shoulder so that he can’t see the tears pricking at your eyes.

“Tae,” you whisper back. “How have you been?”

“Good,” he answers. “Happy to be back though.”

He pulls away, grabbing your purse from your hand so that he can drop it on the table by the door. You busy yourself with taking off your shoes, feeling shy under Ariane’s watchful gaze. She smiles at you when you look her way, and you smile back, offering her a small, polite nod. She gets up from the couch, walking your way so that Taehyung can properly introduce you.

She’s nice. She’s a warm person, and you feel the kindness oozing from her after just a few sentences exchanged. You know you’ll like her, and you’re relieved Taehyung finally found someone to make him forget his ex from high school.

As Ariane insists on cooking tacos for you all, you think she’s far better than Taehyung’s ex anyway. You do feel bad that she’s cooking at your apartment, but she says she loves cooking, and that you should just enjoy your brother’s return for now.

As she cooks, you and Taehyung sit at the table, telling each other stories from the last few months. Evidently you avoid mentioning Jungkook, instead focusing on what was going on in your friend group. Taehyung pulls Ariane into the conversation once in a while, and she admits she chose to do a semester in Paris because her grandfather was French, and he’s the one who chose her name.

It’s a comfortable conversation, a moment that almost makes you forget that Jungkook is hiding in his room, doing whatever it is that he’s doing. Thinking about him makes your heart strain in your chest, and you mindlessly massage the spot, as if that might chase the ache away.

What does help is when you decide to get up to actually help Ariane, and you take care of setting the table and preparing the lettuce. It busies your mind a little, and though you’re still speaking with Ariane and Taehyung, you manage not to let your thoughts wander back to a certain doe-eyed man.

You’re sitting down to eat when Taehyung finally mentions the elephant in the room, saying, “Should we ask JK if he wants anything?”

Ariane chuckles. “Feel free if you want to deal with him.”

You hope they don’t hear you gulp, and you innocently say, “What’s wrong with him?”

“He’s been weird for a few days,” Taehyung answers. “He’s been short with everyone, and he refuses to talk when we ask him what’s wrong.” Taehyung pauses, furrowing his brow. “Why?”

You shrug. “Just wondering.”

Can he hear your heart beating out of your chest? You definitely can, and it’s pumping in your ears, making you feel dizzy.

The knowledge that Jungkook hasn’t been doing well hurts far more than you expected it would. It’s like you just got stabbed right in the heart, and you’re bleeding out where you’re sitting at the table, on Taehyung’s left.

You avert your gaze, looking at the bowls on the table, eyes focusing on the steam rising from the cooked ground beef. You act like you don’t care - you grab a taco shell, and immediately start to prepare your meal, while a strange silence stretches. 

It’s uncomfortable, awkward, and Taehyung flees by getting up and heading to Jungkook’s room. You hear him knocking on the door, and you can’t help but strain your ears as you try to hear what they’re saying.

“You hungry?” Taehyung says after you’ve heard the door opening.

“Not really,” Jungkook replies, and hearing his voice is shattering, wrecking, like the car you were riding just smashed into a wall at full speed.

Your eyes fill with tears, which you furiously blink away hoping that Ariane doesn’t notice. She’s luckily looking towards the hallway though, and you successfully clear your gaze before she turns again.

“I think he’s upset because of Gaby,” she comments as she starts making her own taco. “He started being like this when she stopped hanging out with us.”

Right. Ariane is Gabrielle’s friend. Her best friend even, if what Taehyung said is true. 

You’re not so sure anymore if you’ll be able to get along with Ariane after all.

“Ah,” you flatly let out. “That sucks.”

She shrugs her shoulders. “He’ll get over it. Gaby said he’s the one that broke up with her anyway.”

You gulp around the lump in your throat, and though your hunger has entirely vanished, you bite into the taco so that you don’t have to talk.

It works, and you eat in silence as Taehyung walks back into the room, exchanging a knowing glance with Ariane. He sits back down between the two of you, and then he’s making his taco too, and though the atmosphere is awkward, you don’t have to partake in any more conversation.

You force yourself to eat a second taco, knowing Taehyung would tell you off if you don’t considering you usually eat at least three, if not more. It’s sickening, and you’re on your last bite when Jungkook appears in the door frame.

Your gazes immediately meet, and everything seems to stop around you, to disappear from existence. There’s just you and him, and you take in his dishevelled appearance, the dark circles under his eyes and the hollowness of his gaze.

All light has gone out from his eyes, replaced by shadows and darkness you recognize far too well.

They’re haunting your own eyes, too.

“I’m heading home for the summer,” he tells no one in particular, though his gaze doesn’t leave yours.

Like he’s trying to take everything in one last time, trying to commit you to memory like you’re doing with him right now.

Though you don’t want this to be a memory. You want to remember his lips on your skin and the light in his eyes and the way he’d always hold you close. You want to remember what it felt like to be his – or to believe you were. You don’t want any of the heartbreak, but it takes over everything, and your gaze drops to the table.

“What?” Taehyung lets out. “Right now?”

Jungkook nods. “My father needs help with his company.”

“We literally got home like six hours ago,” Taehyung points out. “Shouldn’t you get some sleep first?”

“I’m good,” Jungkook says. “It’s not that long of a drive.”

It actually is. It’s nearly four hours, and you highly doubt Jungkook’s father asked for help. Or maybe he did. Maybe Jungkook lied about his strained relationship with his family to get you to…

You stop the train of thoughts. He didn’t lie. You were there, and you saw it with your own two eyes. 

You force yourself to meet his gaze again - his eyes haven’t left you. He offers you the saddest smile you’ve ever seen on his lips, and his gaze fills with words unsaid. You can almost taste them on the sharp inhale of breath you take, and you want to tell him to stay.

You want to tell him that you’re in love with him. But it’s too little too late, and so you swallow the confession, shove it down until you can forget its existence.

He nods, like he knows then that you truly are over, and then he says, “I’ll see you guys soon.”

You watch him go - your heart goes with him, and you feel like you’ll cave in on the emptiness in your chest. 

Taehyung follows him to the door, leaving you alone with Ariane. This time, she doesn’t miss the agony on your features, and she asks, “Are you okay?”

You sit back in your chair, nodding once, yet you answer, “I don’t know, I feel sick.”

She offers you a kind smile. “You don’t need to eat anymore,” she reassures you. “You’ve worked all day, maybe you just need some rest.”

“Maybe,” you repeat flatly. “Let me just clean up the table.”

She stops you with a hand on your wrist. “Tae’s not done, I’ll get him to take care of it. Just go to bed.”

You nod curtly, and you hope she doesn’t see the silver lining your gaze, threatening to spill over. You do put your plate away in the sink, to be washed later, and then you head to your bedroom, seeking the cool reprieve of your own safe haven.

You can’t help yourself, glancing towards the door as you leave the kitchen. Jungkook is already outside, and Taehyung is speaking with him leaning against the door frame. You think it’s a relief you can’t see Jungkook from here - you’d probably have broken down right then and there, and you doubt you would have survived the embarrassment. 

You lean against the door of your bedroom once you’re finally in, and you take a deep breath, eyes fluttering shut. When Jungkook’s pained features appear behind your eyelids, you immediately open your eyes again.

There’s a box on your bed, next to a folded piece of paper. Curiosity replaces the agony in your chest momentarily…

Until you see your name on the folded piece of paper, and realize what this is.

Tears fill your eyes so quickly this time around that you can’t stop them, and they fall freely on your cheeks as you take a wobbly step forward. 

He’s left you a letter. And the box is clearly a jewelry box - there’s something so strange about the sight that it breaks your heart all over again, until the throbbing in your chest is so stark you barely can feel the paper as your hands reach for it, unfolding it carefully.

Your vision is blurry behind your tears, and as you see he’s written lines and lines of words for you, you let out a broken sob as you sit on your bed. 

It takes you five minutes before you’re actually able to read, and you read it so many times you think you know the letter by heart.

Hey peach, I know you asked me not to call you that. I promise this is the last time, and I’ll never bother you with that name again. I just didn’t know how to start this letter… I hope you’ve been doing okay. The last few days have been shit for me, and I feel really fucking guilty for everything. I wish it’d never happened, I wish I’d come home to you so that we could tell Taehyung about us… but as you said, there is no us anymore. Thank you for the few months we spent together. You taught me a lot about myself, and I really enjoyed spending time with you. I’ll look back fondly on the memories I have of us. I really want to apologize. For everything that I did. I wish I’d never gone to Paris. I’m sorry that I left, and that I let old promises to Gabrielle ruin what was between us. I’m sorry I wasn’t more upfront about how I felt for you too. It was all just so new to me, and I thought we had a long while ahead of us to figure everything out… I’m sorry that I was wrong. I don’t expect this letter to change anything. I just wanted to let you know how I feel, and I don’t think I would be able to speak to you face to face. Maybe that makes me a coward, but it is what it is. I got you a gift in Paris, before things went to hell. I couldn’t bring myself to return it or keep it, so I hope you enjoy it. You don’t have to keep it either, I just wanted you to still have it. Finally, I hope you have a nice summer. I hope you have fun, and I hope you find someone that treats you the way that you deserve. Someone Taehyung would approve of hopefully! You deserve it more than you can imagine. Take care, Jungkook

Your gaze is blurry behind the tears again, yet you manage to blink them away. You think, maybe you’ve run out of tears. Maybe you’ll go dry and desiccated like you died in the desert, and you think, maybe you deserve it.

You’ve never received a love letter. And though Jungkook didn’t confess, you feel like perhaps you’re holding his heart in your hands like he’s holding yours in his. Perhaps he did care for you, perhaps Gabrielle really was just a momentary mistake.

You take a deep breath in, and though it’s shaky, it does ease some ache in your heart. Not everything - the hole is still gaping wide open, and you reckon only time can fix it.

You put the letter down, picking up the jewelry box instead. Your hands are still trembling, yet you manage to open it to reveal a thin, shiny gold chain. The pendant that sits on the velvety cushion breaks you all over again, yet you don’t hesitate before putting it on.

Your fingers, suddenly steady, secure the necklace around your neck, and then your hand falls to the pendant. 

The peach sits light in your palm, a reminder of what your relationship with Jungkook should have been.

Prev | Chapter 12.5 | Next

☆☆☆☆☆

:'''''') the letter right? Did I cry writing it? Yes I did. Did I cry the fifteen times I've reread it? Yes, I also did. What did you guys think of this chapter?:')

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Got My Doll Back » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Wife/Enhanced!Reader with Steve Rogers/Captain America, Sam Wilson/Falcon, and Natasha Romanoff/Black Widow

Summary: Bucky gets his wife back after thinking that she was dead for years.

Warnings: Fluff, language, mentions of past memories & trauma, fighting, crying, kissing, pet names (doll)

A/N: Y/N has the same powers as Wanda.

A/N #2: Thank you to @buckys-wintersoldier for helping find the first aesthetic picture🩵

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes and typos.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

“These 4 people are your mission. Get these 3 out of the way.” Pierce shows you pictures of Captain America, the Falcon, and Black Widow. “And bring the Winter Soldier back to us alive. Understand?” He says, showing you a picture of the Winter Soldier.

“I understand, sir.” You reply.

Alarms at the base you’re at went off, along with a flashing red light in the room. Pierce went to the security system to see four people walking through the hallways of the base separately. Pierce chuckles and smirks before turning to face you.

“This mission may be easier than we thought. Go to the south end of the base and bring the Winter Soldier to the room.” He tells you.

You nodded and headed towards the door. An agent opened it for you. You headed to the south side of the base. Your walk was cut short when you heard a woman’s voice. You turned around to see a woman with red hair and wearing a black mission suit, one of your targets. She rose one of her arms, getting ready to shoot one of her widow bites at you. Your powers glowed red in your right hand, along with your eyes glowing red. She began to walk towards you, but you used your powers to throw her against the wall, making her groan in pain when she landed on the floor. You ran away from her before she could get up and get you.

“Rogers, Barnes, Wilson. There’s a woman wearing all black with a red jacket is going to the south side of the base. She’s enhanced.” Natasha says into her ear piece.

“I’m on it!” Sam replies, running to the south side.

You rounded the corner to see your second target causing you to stop in your tracks, seeing a man standing across from you.

“I’m not about to fight a woman so let’s do this the easy way.” Sam says.

“That’s a shame.” You say, slightly tilting your head.

Your eyes turned red, along with a ball of red appearing in your hand. You threw it at him causing him to fall to the floor. You ran past him to find your other two targets.

“She’s going east now!” Sam says into his ear piece.

“I see her!” Bucky replies.

Bucky shoots at you. You quickly ducked to the floor to avoid the bullet. You chuckled and stood up with your back facing him.

“Got outsmarted by a woman, didn’t you, Soldat?” You say.

Bucky froze and his eyes went wide. The voice sounds all too familiar. It sounds like someone he knows. Someone from his past.

Steve rounded the corner and caught up to Bucky. He waved his hand in front of his face to snap him out of his thoughts.

“Bucky!” Steve shook him. “Did she do something to you?” He asks.

“N-No.” Bucky stutters.

Steve looks at you to see you facing away from him and Bucky.

“Turn around.” Steve orders.

Steve got his shield ready as you chuckled and turned around.

“You know, the last man who ordered me around, got thrown off of a building. I’m sure you don’t want that to happen to you, Captain.” You say, slowly turning around.

You looked up to see the two men with surprised looks on their faces. Bucky put his gun in the hostler and Steve lowered his shield.

“Oh my god.” Steve says, completely speechless.

“Y/N?” Bucky says with hopefulness in his voice.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, tilting your head to the side.

“Who the hell is Y/N?” You say.

Bucky couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His wife from the 40s was standing a few feet away from him. He slowly approached you which was a mistake on his part cause the next thing he knew was being thrown into the wall. Steve threw his shield at you, but you stopped it with your powers. It fell to the floor in front of you.

“Listen here, Captain and Soldat, but I’m not who you guys think I am.” You say.

Bucky stood up from the ground in time to see your eyes glowing red and a red light glow in your hands, making his eyes to widen.

“I was given a mission and I need to finish it. I’m sure you can relate to that, Soldat.” You say.

Before you could use your powers on them, you felt shocks to the back of your neck causing your body to tense up and lose consciousness. Bucky was quick to catch you before you hit the floor.

“While you two were busy dilly dallying with her, me and Sam got the file.” Natasha says, holding up the file.

Bucky moved your hair from your face to get a closer look at your face causing his breath to hitch in his throat and his eyes to tear up.

“What did they do to you, doll?” Bucky asks, talking more to himself.

Sam and Natasha furrowed their eyebrows in confusion as they looked down at Bucky.

“Doll? Barnes, do you know this woman?” Natasha asks.

“He’ll explain later. We need to get out of here.” Steve says.

Bucky stood up with you in his arms and carried you to the quinjet, holding you like his life depends on it.

A couple hours later, you woke up in a room that you didn’t recognize. You looked around the room, gathering your surroundings. Your eyes landed on a man sleeping in a chair next to the bed you’re in.

“Hello?” You say, raising an eyebrow.

Bucky woke up immediately. A smile grew on his face when he seen that you’re awake.

“Thank god you’re awake.” Bucky says relieved.

He reaches to grab your hand, but you backed away from him. You felt yourself beginning to panic.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” He says in a reassuring voice.

You took a moment to yourself to think. You felt yourself starting to become overwhelmed, your breathing became uneven.

“Wh-Where am I?” You asked, looking around the room again.

“My apartment.” He tells you.

You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to calm yourself down. That’s when memories flooded your brain. Visions of a man appeared in your mind. The man looks exactly like the man sitting next to you. You opened your eyes and looked at the man. There was a few different features about this man compared to the man in your vision. He has long hair, stubble, and a metal arm.

“I know you from somewhere, but I don’t know where.” You say.

“Take your time. It’ll come to you.” He says softly.

You took your time and thought. You kept thinking until your head started pounding by more memories flowing back into your mind. You put your hands on the sides of your head and squeezed your eyes shut. You jumped slightly when you felt a hand on your back, but you didn’t move away. When your head stopped pounding, you opened your eyes and looked up at the man with tears in your eyes. It didn’t take long for you to realize that the man next to you is your husband.

“Bucky?” You say in almost a whisper.

“It’s me, doll. It’s your Bucky.” He says with a smile.

Tears spilled from your eyes as you hugs him. Bucky pulled you onto his lap, holding you close to him. His eyes teared up. Bucky never thought he would get the chance to see or hold his wife again.

“I missed you so much.” You cried against his chest.

“I missed you too, doll.” Bucky says, tears rolled down his cheeks.

You sniffled and looked up at your husband, looking into his beautiful blue eyes.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was told to—” Bucky silenced you with a kiss.

“You didn’t hurt me.” Bucky says, looking into your eyes.

“I-I blasted you with my powers.” You say.

“It wasn’t you, doll.” He says, cupping your cheeks.

You shivered when you felt cool metal against your skin.

“What happened to your left arm?” You asked with concern in your voice while looking at his metal arm.

Bucky didn’t want to upset with the details of how he really lost his left arm so he came up with a different way to tell you what happened.

“I got hurt years ago and when I woke up, I had this.” He explains, showing you his metal arm.

Bucky watched as you carefully touched it, watching as your fingers traced the plates of it.

“I’m sorry for hurting your friends with my powers.” You say, feeling ashamed for your actions.

“They’ll understand that it wasn’t you, doll.” Bucky says.

“I didn’t hurt Steve, did I?” You asked.

“No you didn’t.” He says.

You smiled to yourself, knowing that you didn’t hurt your best friend.

“Is it ok if I see Steve and meet your friends?” You asked.

“Of course.” He smiles.

You got off the bed and followed closely behind Bucky while holding his hand as he led you to the living room where Steve, Sam, and Natasha are.

“Someone would like to see you guys.” Bucky says to them.

You slowly stepped out from behind Bucky and looked at everyone.

“Do you remember me?” Steve asks, trying his best not to overstep.

“How could I forget my best friend?” You say.

Steve smiles as you approached him to give him a hug. You looked at the two people standing next to him.

“I’m sorry for hurting you guys.” You tell them.

“It’s ok. We understand.” Sam says.

“Don’t worry about it.” Natasha says.

All of you talked for a while until you got tired and wanted to go to bed.

“I’m happy that I got my doll back.” Bucky says, making you smile.

You smiled and laid your head on his chest and played with his dog tags.

“I love you, Bucky.” You say sleepily.

“I love you too, doll.” He almost whispers. “Get some rest.” He says.

“Will you be here when I wake up?” You asked, looking up at him.

“Of course I will. I’m never leaving you out of my sight again.” He says, leaning down and kissed you passionately.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[cantstops1mping]

Bored

꒰ᐢ. ̫ .ᐢ꒱

𐙚𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 ⋆ᡣ𐭩

// 🖤 - smut//

2121 words

{ao3}

§Yang Jeong-in | I.N. x m!reader x Christopher Bahng | Bangchan, m!reader x OT8 Stray Kids§

[male reader, bottom!reader, top!Yang Jeong-in | I.N., top!Christopher Bahng | Bangchan, 9th member!reader, maknae!reader, reader gets called: dove. jagi. jagiya. slut. whore, skirt, stockings, overstimulation, sub/dom dynamics, crying during sex, oral sex m.receiving (reader & bangchan), anal sex, unprotected sex, punishment, femboy not really, humiliation kink, groping, free use, couch sex, threesome, size kink, porn with plot]

«Jeongin got bored and you were the only one who could cure his boredom.»

This is my first smut! hope you all like it! (>/////< " )

Lee Know had put you in a skirt as punishment for being a brat while you all were filming Skzcode last week. 

The skirt punishment, one you hated with your entire being. No underwear, stockings, and this very small skirt which left little to the imagination. It only covered half of your ass and left your dick fully revealed at the front. 

The skirt meant free use, not that free use isn't always a thing, but it's more than usual. Over the couch, on the floor, pressed on the wall, on the counter, in the shower, everywhere.

Depending on how bad you were, a time limit was given for how long you had to wear the skirt. Sometimes it was a day, sometimes it was a week, sometimes even 2 weeks.

This time, it was only a week; a week of pure humiliation from all the other members. 

“Aww look at your tiny dick just hanging there; do you have no shame?”

“Dove, I dropped this mind picking it up?”

“Did that get you hard? Everything just goes straight to your dick doesn’t it?”

That's just a few of the things they say, along with sneaking pictures of your ass; the entire time is a nightmare for you.

Today you were happy to find out that 3racha and Seungmin were out to the studio to record and edit, while danceracha was out practicing, leaving you in an empty house. 

Well, almost empty. Everyone was out except Jeongin, your youngest hyung.

You wish you could take off the skirt but Jeongin was still here. You knew you would get spanked if ever tried taking it off and hiding it so you kept it on. You just opted to just stay in your room all day.

…

“Jagi, mind getting me water?” Jeongin yells from the living room

“Ok!” you yell back unhappily.

Slowly you walk out of your room and to the living room. You see Innie playing a game. Trying to quickly pass by him he grabs your arm and yanks you on his lap. “had to distract me didn’t you? Walking by like a slut in that short skirt.” he says while groping your ass.

As he gropes your ass, you can't help but get hard.

“already hard? You only think with your dick, don't you?” he says into your ear slyly.

He quickly manhandles you to lie on the couch. Ass up on the arm of the couch leaving your legs hanging off the side of the couch. “Hyung! Wait!” you yelp as he moves you around like a ragdoll.

“Wait? Why? Let me make you feel good, jagiya. You clearly want it” he smirked making you blush.

He lifts your skirt up to reveal the entirety of your hardened dick. He wraps his hand around the base of your erection. Jeongin’s hand almost covers your entire dick. Just leaving the tip out. “Look at how small your dick is. You can barely see it.” He says as he fakes a pout. 

You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks as Jeongin continues to taunt you about the size of your dick. He starts to stroke you slowly, his grip firm but gentle. You can't help but moan softly at the sensation, the embarrassment mixing with pleasure in a confusing whirlwind of emotions.

Jeongin leans in closer, his hot breath ghosting over your ear as he whispers, "Do you like that, whore? Do you like being teased and humiliated like the naughty little slut you are?" His words send shivers down your spine.

You can feel yourself getting closer to the edge, the pleasure building up inside you. Jeongin's hand works magic on you, his movements, calculated and precise, driving you wild with need. You grip the edge of the couch tightly, your whole body tingling with anticipation.

As you reach your peak, Jeongin speeds up his strokes, his thumb rubbing against your tip in just the right way to send you over the edge. With a strangled cry, you come hard, the intensity of your release leaving you breathless and dizzy. Jeongin smirks triumphantly, his hand still wrapped around your spent cock.

You lie there, panting and flushed, feeling a strange mixture of shame and satisfaction wash over you. You see Jeongin go down on his knees. “Wait what a-” You're interrupted by a moan escaping as Jeongin puts your dick in his mouth. It immediately hardened as you felt his wet mouth. 

“W-wait I just came!” you whine as he starts bobbing his head up and down. 

He quickly releases your dick from his mouth with a pop. “you're telling me your dick isn't hard?” he says quickly as he goes back to sucking your cock.

You can't help but moan at the sensation of his warm mouth enveloping your sensitive length once again. Jeongin's skilled tongue swirls around you, expertly teasing and coaxing another wave of pleasure from your body. Despite just having come, your cock responds eagerly to his ministrations, hardening once more under his touch.

The feeling of Jeongin's mouth moving up and down your shaft, the wet heat and suction creating an overwhelming sensation that leaves you gasping and writhing beneath him. You can't believe how good it feels.

As Jeongin continues his relentless assault on your cock, you can feel yourself reaching the edge once again. The pleasure builds and builds, spiraling out of control until you can't hold back any longer. With a guttural moan, you release once more, into Jeongin’s mouth. Your body shuddering with the force of your climax.

Jeongin pulls back and swallows, a satisfied smirk on his face as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "Such a naughty little slut, coming for me twice in a row," he says, his voice dripping with amusement and satisfaction. You can't help but blush at his words, feeling a mix of embarrassment and arousal coursing through you.

As you catch your breath, Jeongin leans in close, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "Don't think this is over, baby. I'm just getting started with you." as he says this his hand engulfs your cock again.

“Wait! Hyung, please it's too much! Hyung!” you begged in between moans, almost crying.

“Why would I stop when you're already hard?” He says with a smirk on his face.

You feel yourself being pushed to the edge once again, the pleasure overwhelming your senses as Jeongin's hand works its magic on your sensitive length. His touch is relentless, driving you wild with need and desire. You can't help but moan and writhe beneath him, the intensity of the moment almost too much to bear.

As Jeongin continues to stroke you, his movements becoming faster and more urgent, you can feel yourself teetering on the brink of another release. Your body is on fire, every nerve ending tingling with pleasure as you spiral closer and closer to the edge. The rings on his hands leaving a cooling effect on your heated length, making you weak.

You try pushing jeongin's hand off of your overstimulated cock. Trying to not burst into tears from the overstimulation.

“Hey, has anyone seen m-” Chan gets interrupted with a moan from you.

“Chan, can you hold his hands?” Jeongin asks the older man.

“No, no! Please!” You weep. Begging Chan to stop Jeongin from any further assault on your dick.

Chan hesitates for a moment, looking conflicted as he sees the distress written all over your face. But ultimately, he complies with Jeongin’s request and takes hold of your hands, preventing you from pushing Jeongin away.

As Jeongin continues to pleasure you, Chan watches with a mixture of curiosity and arousal, he can feel his dick hardening. His grip on your hands was harsh. He can see the tears welling up in your eyes and the way your body trembles from the overwhelming sensations.

Jeonging slips two fingers into your ass. Adding to the simulation, making you cry harder.

The mixture of pleasure and pain overwhelming your senses. Jeongin's expert touch on your cock, combined with the intrusion of his fingers into your ass, sends you spinning into a whirlwind of pleasure. Tears stream down your face as you fall completely to the mercy of your youngest hyung and Chan, who holds your hands in place, preventing you from escaping the intense pleasure coursing through your body.

Your moans and cries fill the room, the sound of your desperation and need echoing off the walls. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, the pleasure building to a fever pitch that threatens to consume you entirely. The humiliation mingling with the overwhelming pleasure in a way that excites you.

As Jeongin continues to pleasure you, his fingers moving in and out of your ass with a relentless rhythm, you feel yourself teetering on the brink of another release. The combination of sensations is almost too much to bear, the overwhelming pleasure threatening to consume you entirely. You can't help but cry out in ecstasy, your body trembling with the force of your impending climax.

With a final, guttural moan, you feel yourself climax once more, your body shaking with the force of your release. You're left panting and breathless, completely spent and overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through you. Jeongin smirks triumphantly, his hand still wrapped around your quivering cock.

As you try to catch your breath, Jeongin leans in close once again, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "You're such a good little slut, aren't you? Coming for us like that, over and over again." His words send a shiver down your spine, a mix of shame and pleasure washing over you.

Jeongin flips you over on your stomach with one swift motion, making you yelp. He presses your face into the cushions of the couch, your ass exposed and vulnerable. You can hear Jeongin shuffling behind you, while Chan gets his rock-hard cock out. 

With a sudden thrust, Jeongin pushes his dick into you, making you cry out in a mixture of pain and pleasure. The sensation of being penetrated so suddenly and forcefully sends a jolt of electricity through your body, causing you to clench your muscles in response. You can feel every inch of him inside you, stretching you to your limits and filling you in a way that leaves you breathless.

Meanwhile, Chan positions himself in front of you, his hard cock bobbing in front of your face. He taps your cheek gently, indicating that he wants you to open your mouth for him. You comply, feeling a sense of submission and obedience as you eagerly take him into your mouth. The taste of him is musky and slightly salty, but you find yourself enjoying the feeling of him against your tongue.

As Jeongin continues to thrust into you, his movements becoming faster and more urgent, you can feel yourself being pushed to the brink once again. The sensation of being taken from both ends is overwhelming, the thrill of the situation only adding to your arousal. You can feel the beginning of a familiar tension building in your body, the pleasure and pain mixing together in a heady cocktail that threatens to drive you over the edge.

You can hear the sounds of skin slapping against skin, the groans and moans filling the room as you're being used by both Jeongin and Chan. The air is thick with the scent of sex and sweat, the intensity of the moment almost suffocating in its power. You can feel yourself surrendering to the sensations, losing yourself in the pleasure of being taken so thoroughly and completely.

As Jeongin's thrusts became more erratic and desperate, you could feel yourself teetering on the edge of another climax. The pressure building inside you is almost unbearable, the need for release driving you to the brink of oblivion. You can't help but cry out, the overwhelming sensations taking hold of you completely.

With a final, desperate cry, you feel yourself plummet over the edge, your body convulsing with the force of your release. You can feel Chan pulsing inside your mouth, his own climax adding to the intensity of the moment. You're left trembling and breathless, completely spent and overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through you.

As you lie there, panting, you can feel Jeongin and Chan's hot breath on your skin, their bodies pressed against yours in a tangle of limbs and sweat. “Honestly I called you over to get me water because I was bored and hard,” Jeongin says to you smirking 

“And I forgot what I came here for,” Chan says with a groan.

© cantstops1mping 2024; please do not copy, steal, repost, modify, translate, or recommend on any other platform without giving me credit or without my permission!

[spiderfunkz]

heyy could you do a peter parker blurb based on him asking you out on the last day of school? i love ur writing btw

✧ LOVE ON A LAST DAY.

summary : someone has a pretty crush on you!

word count : 0,7k

contains : fluff, fem!reader, super cutesy stuff.

a/n : next month i'll be graduating so this prompt is actually perfect omg omg, thank u for requesting anon i hope u like this !!! 🤭 i used the word 'smile' so much in this i apologize

"hey, peter!"

you waved cheerfully,

it was the last day of school. the final bell just rang and everyone is running out of the building yelling, cheering, crying, and smiling. papers were scattered, pens fell out of backpacks, shirts were signed, and flowers were exchanged.

you were going to hangout with your friends but that's when you spot peter at the end of the hall. hair messy, backpack full, his hands were in his pocket, he looked very nervous.

but you weren't going to leave him alone like that, it's been a while since you two have catched up.

you have been friends since middle-school, but as friends do, they drift apart, though you've never lost that spark with peter. you loved his company & he loved yours.

"hi!" peter waved.

you catch up to him, "hey, i didn't see you anywhere today! you haven't gotten a chance to sign my jacket yet. here," you pass a marker.

"i saved you a spot to sign." he nods, signing it.

you smile, "aw, this looks perfect."

he smiles too, he seems to be very smiley every time he's around you.

sometimes he forgets that you can see how much he smiles when he's near you, or how you can see that he's clearly staring at you.

"what? do i have something on my face?" you rub your cheek,

"oh, no. no you don't, sorry."

"you sure?"

he nods.

"you're weirdly quiet. you okay? i'm still going to the same college as you if that's what you're worrying about," you giggle.

peter has always loved how easy you are to talk to. in a way that there's never awkward pauses between conversations, and how your smile makes everything feel so calm and nice.

"i know. i just, uh-" he fiddles with something in his pocket, "there's something i wanna say, if that's okay."

"yeah, why wouldn't it not be okay?"

he shakes his head, smiling.

he passes you a picture from his pocket along with a small flower he picked.

you take it, your hand softly brushing his hand for a second.

it was a picture he took 2 months ago. you remember the day very well.

it was hot, awfully hot for new york. there were no clouds, the skies were clear and everybody was talking about it. how eager they are to take a walk and how excited they are to enjoy time outside.

though you and peter wanted nothing more but to stay inside, but this doesn't happen everyday. so why not try your best to enjoy it?

you were at the park and just finished your 2nd cup of lemonade (it was peter's), peter brought his camera for memories. your hair kept sticking to your face and it didn't help that you were smiling a ton so it got in your lipgloss as well.

suddenly wind came and flew past you. the air felt cool for a second and your hair went all over your face, you still smiled though.

peter saw and took a picture immediately, the sun perfectly leaving a glow on your hair, also giving your lips a nice glow.

"did you just take a picture?" he quickly shook his head, "yes you did! let me see!" — "no! i know you're just gonna delete it."

you finally saw the picture. at the bottom you can see a handwritten note on it. a beautiful day with the most beautiful girl!

"peter, this is so cute. you- you took this?" you asked, he nods shyly.

you couldn't hide the fact that your face grew red. "i was wondering... if maybe the most beautiful girl in the world would like to maybe.. like to.. go out with me sometimes..?"

peter said, whispering the last few words, looking down at his shoes, the doodled converses you once drew on.

you smile, "i'd love to."

he looks up, shocked. "really?"

"yeah! i mean all of this coming from the most prettiest, talented, caring boy in the world? how could i say no?" you smile, teasingly.

peter smiles.

he thinks for a second before taking the small flower from your hands and tucking it behind your ear, "pretty." he says, stated actually.

"so are you going to walk me home now, most beautiful boy in the world?" you ask. he nods almost immediately, "absolutely, most perfect girl in the world."

you walk outside the building, your hand holding his.

"just so you know i'm gonna draw a big red heart around your signature on my jacket."

[owliellder]

The Finer Details

Post DI! Leon Kennedy x f! Painter Reader

MDNI 18+

(Session 1, Session 2, Session 3, Session 4, Session 5, The Reveal)

Description: Leon realizes that retirement is in his best interest now that he's getting older. All of his accomplishments as an agent mean he's truly earned a painting to commemorate..

Warnings: Not Proofread, Age gap! (reader is anywhere between mid-late 20's and Leon is 40), Porn w/ Plot, Use of she/her pronouns, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Alcoholism, mentions of trauma/PTSD/depression, P in V smut (wrap it NEOW), Leon cries during sex 💔

Tags: Older Leon Kennedy, Younger afab!Reader, Leon is SAD but he is your muse, Crying, mentions of Leon masturbating, starts off with Dom! Leon and Sub! Reader, falls into switch territory because that man needs some serious TLC, Praise kink, Hickeys, Handjob, Nipple play, Oral sex (m! and f! receiving), and a heavy dose of Aftercare

Author Note: I wanna say there's some pretty descriptive talk about depression in this chapter, just as a heads up. Anyways, it's my weekend and I'm going to be absolutely zooted every single day so the next chapter will most likely be out Monday morning PST lol.

Cross-posted on AO3

Session 3: Blocking In Color

It was nearly three weeks until you saw Leon again.

You tried to call him a couple days after he'd left that day, a few more times over the following week, but to no avail. The man was unreachable.

Even though you did your best to convince yourself that you just wanted to get his painting started, "It was an important one", you knew that you were really just worried about him.

You've seen this kind of dismay with the other retired agents that've had a portrait painted in the past, but they at least recognized what they'd been through.

Leon hasn't. You could just tell.

Looking over the sketches you made of his face, you couldn't help but wonder what exactly he'd been thinking about the last time he was here. He seemed so bothered, acting like he was hiding it so well, too.

Then again, you did drop a rather large bombshell on the guy while he was in a pretty vulnerable state, but you thought he knew what the portrait he was going to receive was suppose to mean. Again, most of the retired agents you'd seen were similar to Leon in that regard and even they at least had a basic grasp on the finality of it all. So why didn't he?

You nursed your bottom lip, still staring at the sketches laying in front of you while you sat at one of your desks in the corner. You normally don't come to your workspace unless you're actively painting, yet you'd shown up everyday in hopes Leon would randomly pop in. He seemed like the kind of guy to just kind of show up, anyways...

If you had just gotten a picture that day you've could've at least started working out the positioning for his portrait. Unfortunately, he wasn't in any position mentally to put up with anymore of your shenanigans at the time, it seemed.

You really did try your best to get ahold of Leon, eventually giving up a few days ago. You'd already emailed the President, who had been the one to personally commission you unlike with previous ex-agents, letting him know that it's going to be longer than expected. Thankfully he was understanding, knowing rather well how much the whole retirement thing was weighing on Leon.

You'll come back tomorrow and try again. Even the next day, and the day after that if you have to, and so on and so forth.

Guilty. That's all Leon felt right now.

He's been shelled up in his house since the moment he got home after leaving your building, withering away by the minute.

He hadn't showered, barely eaten, only ever really pulling himself from what little comfort his room offered to grab whatever bottle he touched first in the cabinet. Leon didn't care, just as long as it was something.

Chris had been over a couple times after he stopped responding to his messages, doing his best to get him out of the house. Claire had been over a few times more than her brother had, bringing groceries once she'd heard about the sad state Leon was keeping himself in.

It broke both their hearts, but they could only do so much for him. Leon was stubborn, head strong, he wasn't the kind to sway to many forces. He had somehow gaslit himself into thinking he was doing well. "Just peachy", even.

Clearly that wasn't the case, both Chris and Claire could see that. They'd have to be blind not to.

Having been in contact with Leon's government-assigned therapist, Chris tried to set up an at-home meeting for him one day. That turned out to be a disaster seeing as Leon was bordering on blackout drunk and could barely keep his eyes open. Not to mention the vomiting.

Claire even tried to bathe Leon. She only got far enough to wash his hair in his kitchen sink, using his vomit-covered mouth as an excuse to keep him over the sink long enough to shampoo his greasy, stringy hair.

All of it was weighing on him too much. He felt so guilty for making his friends feel like they had to babysit him, ignoring everyone's calls and messages, your calls and messages. That kind of thought process quickly spiraled into him reliving the worst days of his life, having to through suffer so many flashbacks and nightmares, not sleeping because of it. He rarely ever felt safe enough to get under the covers on his bed.

None of this is what he wanted. If it were up to him, he'd start all over; be twenty-one again, work as a cop, maybe get promoted a few times, find a girlfriend, start a family, have a normal life. Why couldn't he have that?

Staying awake night after night, Leon would stare at the ceiling in his bedroom and fantasize about the wonderful life he could've had, the happy memories he could've made. It would make him weep, longing for something that never could've been.

Instead, Leon was stuck with endless images of horror, death, and gore every time he blinked, and oh was he bitter about it all. So bitter, so angry, so...

Feeling sorry for himself was all he could do now. Sure, he killed all those monsters and zombies, saved all those people, not once did he think about himself through the years. Now he had all the time in the world to question and wonder, and having to think about himself and what he wanted most made him feel like a needy, greedy bastard.

But wasn't he allowed to be greedy, if only just a little? He had wants, needs, and though he wanted so desperately to change his past, he knew he couldn't. So, what did he want now? That, he didn't know.

Guilty for feeling this way, guilty for wanting different, guilty for wanting anything good for himself.

It took the better part of those two weeks for Leon to finally muster up some form of energy to stumble into his bathroom and shower one afternoon, dizzy and nauseous. The light emanating from the rest of his house was blinding, not having even bothered to close the shades he had on any of his windows. His room was kept a cave and that's where he stayed.

Leon now found himself sitting down in the shower just like before he'd decided to retire, only this time it was mostly to keep from slipping and dying. The last thing he needed anyone to see was him naked and dead in the shower. Embarrassing.

His thoughts at the moment were shallow, still pretty drunk from his bender, head lulling back and forth a bit as his vision spun. He was finally hungry again, the heat from the shower making that all the more obvious as he grew lightheaded, but he didn't know what he wanted.

After managing to actually crawl his way out of the shower, he dug through the pile of dirty laundry at the end of his bed, finding a pair of boxers that didn't smell too terrible to put on.

Leon used the wall heavily for support to walk out into his kitchen, muttering curses under his breath at just how bright it was. Opening his freezer, he stared at the meal prep containers left by Claire, grabbing one to attempt and read what she'd wrote on the sticky note attached to the lid.

That's right... She made him little meals, even putting them in the freezer so they didn't go bad as fast. All he had to do was put it in the microwave.

Simple enough, he could do that.

The one he chose was meatloaf and mashed potatoes. Just the sound of it had his stomach rumbling and his mind craving the comforting taste of a home cooked meal.

The first few bites in made Leon feel nauseous again, but once those bites hit his stomach the feeling immediately gave way to just how hungry he actually was.

He tried to pace himself, he really did try, yet he managed to devour the food in front of him in a matter of minutes, only pausing every few seconds to breathe. It felt so good, something warm in his stomach. Filling in all the right ways. Once he finished, he pushed the empty container away and just laid his head down sideways on the cool countertop, closing his eyes as he let the food settle.

As much as he wanted to degrade himself for acting this way, reducing himself to such a weird and pathetic state, Leon didn't have the mind to. All he knew right now was that the warmth that the meal Claire made him. Not to sound cliche, but he genuinely believed he could taste the love cooked into it.

For the first time in what was now two and a half weeks, Leon was awake and alert when Chris and Claire came over again. He'd eaten everything Claire made, holding all the now cleaned containers out to her. It was a silent plea for more, and lucky for Leon, she had just made another grocery trip for him.

Unbeknownst to him, Claire had been cooking here at his house. This entire time he thought she'd been bringing the meals over, assumed to be leftovers from cooking for her family. She did confess to hoping the smell of the food cooking would pull him from his room. It didn't, much to her dismay, but now she was just glad he was up and eating again.

As soon as Leon tried to apologize for dragging her away from her family, she was quick to shut him down with that mom stare she'd developed after having her kids. It worked, especially on him.

Chris was busy chatting up Leon while Claire cooked him another set of meals for the next week. It was hard to converse, but Leon did manage to nod and him as the other man talked about some random encounter he had the other day while out driving.

It was strange to feel so lively again. Those thoughts still clung to the back of his mind, though all he could focus on were his friends taking care of him like one of their own. Leon feels like he's been a terrible friend lately, seems as though the siblings standing in his kitchen didn't feel the same. He wasn't showing it, but Leon was definitely holding back a smile.

A couple hours had past, Chris opting to stay with Leon and eat lunch since Claire had to head back and help her husband with something.

The hug Claire gave Leon was phenomenal. After the hug he shared with you he's been craving that physical contact more than ever, so finally getting another good squeeze from a friend was boosting his mood.

Chris and him sat, ate, and talked about whatever came to mind, eventually asking about you.

"How's the painting coming along? Do you like the painter?" He smiled, looking at Leon with wide, curious eyes. That man always had a smile gracing his features.

Leon shrugged, taking a sip from the water he poured himself not too long ago. He was pretty dehydrated after solely drinking alcohol for the past couple weeks. "She's alright. Haven't started the painting yet."

Chris raised an eyebrow, placing his arms on the counter and crossed them as he leaned forward slightly. "Just 'alright'?" he emphasized the word "alright" with air quotes, which caused Leon to scoff.

"What else do you want me to say? I've seen her twice so far and its been fine." Leon lifted his hands up in confusion, palms facing the ceiling as he watched the man sitting next to him rolled his eyes dramatically. "C'mon, she was amazing for Claire and I- Okay, how about this..."

Chris repositioned himself so his entire upper body was facing him now, leaning in a little closer to ask another question. "Do you like the room she works in? Cause I thought it was pretty comfy. When she was focusing on Claire's part of the portrait, I took a nap over on that rug she had. All those pillows mixed with the classical music knocked me the fuck out."

He laughed, shaking his head at memory before looking over at Leon again. "So...? And don't lie to me, I saw that pillow on your couch."

Leon sucked on his teeth and hummed, glancing over his shoulder at his couch. "It's cozy, yeah." He brought his head back forward, patting his hands gently against the counter.

The two chatted for awhile longer before Chris eventually had to leave, giving Leon a firm pat on the shoulder while shaking him a bit. After he left, Leon was left to sit alone and think again, only difference now is he felt better. He was crazy tired, his social battery quickly drained from having his friends around, but he felt good nonetheless.

He wasn't ready at the time, yet after a sober night with solid sleep, Leon woke up the next morning and decided to just text you, hoping you weren't mad at him. Calling would've been too much at that moment, not even have listened to the voicemails you left, or anyone's, for that matter.

His chest felt tight after sending the text, but it was quickly eased about ten minutes later when you responded with nothing but enthusiasm. The smiley face you added at the end of your message made him smile, quickly wiping it away with his hand.

Your next session was arranged two days ahead of time in the late afternoon. Leon wanted to give himself enough time to recollect since he needed to look his best the following weeks. You told him it was time to start with the main painting, which you still needed a picture for.

During that time he finally shaved his stubble, went out and got his hair trimmed, tackled all the laundry he'd neglected, and got his best suit dry cleaned. All thoughts aside, he felt good and wanted to stay this way.

Needless to say, Leon was jittery when he pulled up to your workplace again. He was finally letting himself feel excited again about this painting. If it's anything close to what Chris and Claire's portrait is, then that excitement will only continue to grow the further along you get.

You were already there waiting for him at the door, a gentle smile on your face. That wonderful soft perfume that he missed reaching his nose once more as you lead him up the stairs and through the other door. Chris was right, if he had the opportunity, he'd take a nap on your rug. It looked mighty comfy.

Leon was thankful you didn't ask any questions on his whereabouts, he wasn't ready to talk. You were just as excited as he was about getting the painting started, if not more. Watching you eagerly move back and forth between the larger easel and your desks was a refreshing sight to the man.

You stood at your easel for a couple minutes, just silently looking from the blank canvas to where he was sat. You told him to get into a comfortable position, prompting him rest his right leg on his left knee, leaning back and to the side so he was sitting at a slight angle, arms resting on the chair's armrests.

You stared at him for a few seconds, tilting your head side to side with your eyes squinted. "Let me just-" you spoke in a hushed voice, walking over to Leon before cautiously reaching out to rest one hand on the underside on his chin while the other hovered over the side of his face.

You weren't an idiot, you knew what his absence was from. So you made sure to be careful with him, knowing he was probably still pretty fragile. Only gentle and cautious touches for Mr. Kennedy.

So close yet so far. His skin tingled in your hands wake, and god he hoped you couldn't notice his blush.

You could, but you wouldn't say anything. Besides, you weren't faring well yourself, hands a little shaky as you touched his face.

Leon just let you move his head to whatever position you wanted, his eyes now half-lidded as you had walked back a couple times to get just the right angle. You pulled away for a final time with a small "aha!" and he wished you would hold his head for just a little longer.

The floor where your easel sat was marked with an 'X' made with painter's tape, making it easy for you to stay in the right spot for the photo once you pushed the easel out of the way.

"Don't move." You held your hands up after analyzing his position, quickly hurrying over the corner opposite of your desks to grab a bulky camera that sat atop a tall tripod. You worked as fast as you could, knowing as long as you had a picture with him in this position then this whole process would go so much smoother.

You didn't even have to ask Leon to smile or look up at the camera since he was sitting there with a rather dopey smile, his eyes remaining trained right on yours. Nice and natural. He looked relaxed which is exactly what you wanted.

Just as a precaution, you took multiple pictures, giving him a thumbs up once you figured you'd gotten enough. His head back to rest on the chair at the okay, listening to the sound of you walk over to your laptop after untwisting the camera from the tripod. You printed out 3 copies of the photograph and taped one to a stand you had brought over to sit next to the easel, making sure it sat eye level to you.

The ball was finally rolling, now having what you needed to start with the main sketch. When Leon lifted his head up, he noticed that you were ready, sucking in a sharp breath through his nose while he shifted a little to get back in just the right position.

You twirled your pencil between your fingers before beginning to roughly sketch out the chair, eyebrows furrowing as you focused. Leon could see your expression, how intensely you zoned into your work. It was incredibly admirable and he found himself fully content in just watching you do your thing.

It didn't take long before you had sketched out his general shapes, now walking over to take the sketches you made of his face out of your sketchbook to clip up right next to the reference photo. The more finer details would be added later, but you wanted to get just the basic shapes of his face.

That didn't take long either, because before Leon knew it, you were telling him it was okay to talk. He was pretty animated with his hands when he talked, so you kept him quiet until now.

"Am I easy to draw?" Leon spoke with an almost sultry tone after a few seconds of you telling him he could speak. It threw you off only a bit, carding your fingers through your hair as you took one step back to look at what you had so far.

"I wanna say yes and no." You responded, catching his questioning look from the corner of your eye. "You're easy to sketch out, yes, but your hair is giving me trouble." You could hear a low chuckle rumble from his chest as you stepped back forward. "Hey, you asked." You laughed back.

"I know, I know." He shook his head with a poorly hidden grin, tilting his head down to try and hide it a little better. You immediately pointed your pencil at him, not taking your eyes off the canvas. "I said you could talk, not move." Your sarcastic tone made him chuckle again, slowly lifting his head back up with a sigh.

"Yes, ma'am." You could just hear the smirk in his words, causing you to let out a sigh of your own.

By the time the sun had started to set, you had blocked out all the simple colors for the painting. Right now, it just looked like a very bland and abstract painting. It'll come together, slowly but surely. Trust the process, as people say.

Leon was in awe already, having stood up to look at your progress as you washed your hands over in the small bathroom. Oil paints smeared something fierce and as much as you loved your job, you did not want feel oily at home.

"It already looks stunning." You heard the man say from where he stood in front of the easel. It wasn't quite registering in his brain that it was him on that canvas just yet, but hopefully soon it would.

He wanted to recognize himself in something as wonderful as your art.

[aphroditesmoon]

lacrymosa [part 2]

clarisse la rue x fem!hecatecabin!reader [boarding school au]

PART 1

summary: you were sent to a prestigious boarding school to be rid from your father as a burden, but when strange things begins to happen upon your arrival, you wonder what truly lies behind the school walls. And as you attract attention from an infamous student, your plans to lie low is disrupted for the semester.

warnings: nightmares, a lil argument, enemies to lovers in a way.

a/n: under a special request, Olivia's name has been CHANGED to Tella, i hopenyou guys don't find the change too weird! And thank you for the love for this series so far, I hope u all can be patient with me writing every part in my own time🩷

wc: 6k

taglist: @bbybubbles @asvterias @kyuupidwrites @lyzsaphrodite @priyajoyy @yourmom-25s-blog

Something was not right. The thunderstorm outside felt unreal, the lightning struck again, and you only saw white slashing in front of you through the glass. 

“Get away from the window, sweetheart.” A female voice you’ve never heard of, advised you. You turn around at the same time you felt her hand grip your shoulder. 

“Mama?” You’ve seen her before. Of course you had. In pictures, and albums. But you’ve never heard her speak. She pulls you back onto the velvet chair that sat in the middle of the living room. Everything was unrecognizable. She and the place both was. 

“What did I tell you about standing too close to the window? It’s already cool enough here- Oh, see? Your fingers are freezing.” True to her words, your fingers were pruning up. 

Your mother’s hands loosened from your arm as she walked back into the kitchen. “I’m making some hot cocoa, do you want some?” 

You didn’t respond, too busy examining your surroundings. The structure of the building gave you a sense of deja vu. And the view outside, even through the rain and storms, brought out a sinking feeling in your chest. 

You walked back towards the window and saw a glimpse of yourself and flinched back. You’re a child. 

It registered to you then that it was all a dream. And more fear erupted from your chest. Were you supposed to be this aware in dreams? It’s never happened before. And yet as you eye the pavement outside being splashed with water whilst your mother called for you from the kitchen, you knew it couldn’t be real. 

This is a dream. This is a dream. This is a dream. 

You pinched yourself, and still found yourself unmoving. 

There is a statue outside on the grounds. A tall white something, you can't tell. But even in the fog and drizzle, it stands magnificent in all it's glory.

The third time your mother called for you, you turned towards her. 

Her face glitches as she nears you with a mug in hand. A colorless mug, changing colors the same way her face changes too. You took a step back, frightened. But as your mother cocks her head to the side in question, your feet halts in its place.

“What did I tell you about the window, darling?” 

“Mama?” you asked again, against your own resistance.  Your mother smiled and moved closer. She wore a necklace with a circular shaped object that laid on her chest. It had rubies on it’s edge, and a triangle cut out in the middle, like a button you could push. It stood out like your mothers dark black eyes that bore no reflection. 

“What did I tell you about standing too close to the window, sweetheart?” She asked again, stoically despite her toothy smile.

She glitched again, and for a moment, you thought her face had cracks all over it, filled with red burning glow that looked like lava. 

Your hand itched to touch her, to pull her by her collar and scream, you are not my mother. To hug her, to cry in her chest and ask her why she left you. 

But instead, you just stood there and hear her calling out for your name again.

The last call clashed with the sound of a thunder, and you felt yourself jump as your shooked out of your nightmare.

The earth below you felt like it had broken into two.

It was raining. It was actually fucking raining.

And for some reason, you looked up to the sky and felt rain water pouring down your whole entire body as lightning struck again from the clouds.

You were standing outside your school building at god knows what hour, in the rain.

“What the hell are you doing?” A thunderous voice shouted from behind you.

You twist your neck to look back, and found the last person you wanted to see in this kind of situation. “Clarisse.” You breathed out with tired eyes. 

She stands under the roof of the dorm building, far from you, but close enough to be able to hear her yelling.

Clarisse sprinted towards you from your left with an umbrella that wasn't really standing a chance with the heaviness of the wind and water. Immediately,  she pulled you under the pathetic excuse of a shelter and stared at you in disbelief, open mouthed and weirded out.

“Are you insane?” She bellowed out, somehow loud enough to hear.  “I- I don't know what happened.” You shouted back.

“What do you mean?” She was beginning to pull you by your arm towards your dorm building, the two of you skipping quickly until you're finally in safety. 

“I just woke up and I'm here.” Clarise took the umbrella and harshly flapped it to her side and tried wringing the water out from it. “You sleepwalked?” She asks as she's squeezing the umbrella.

“Yeah.” She then placed the umbrella against the walls of the ground floor, along with the other umbrellas placed there for emergency before taking you by the hand again towards the elevator. 

“This has got to be the craziest case of sleepwalking, you could've had hypothermia.” She says it like it's your fault. You almost snapped back at her to say that she shouldn't be awake at this time too, but had the sense to keep your mouth shut. “It's never happened before.” You say instead.

“What never happened? Sleepwalking, or sleepwalking out of a building?” 

“Both.” She nodded with an ‘ah’. 

The elevator dings open, and her hand slips away from yours as she enters it before you.

“What were you doing awake anyways?” You finally ask her.

“I went down to use the water dispenser to fill up my bottle, then I saw a crazy girl in short shorts in the middle of a storm.”

Your cheeks heated up when you remembered that you were still in a tank top and shorts. A city girl's definition of pajamas.

“Thanks.” You muttered awkwardly, she acknowledges it with another nod.

Once the elevator stops at her level, she exits it and stops in her tracks when she realizes you weren't following her. “Come on.”

“I'm on level 20.” You say dumbly.

“I know, I've seen your dorm. You should come change at my place, unless you want to have to explain to your roommates why you're soaked at 3am.” You considered her proposal quickly and steps out before the doors could close.

“What about your roommates?” You asks.

“Don't have any.” She responds, clicking her tongue. 

“Seriously?” She hums positively. “Legacy students have solo rooms.” 

The walk towards her room was silent. You let your eyes wander through the red coloured halls and the decorations hung on them. She was an Ares girl, that one is obvious. 

There are shields and trophies inside glass boxes along the way to the corridor, and you could assume that the Ares dorm kids are known for their competitiveness, alongside their ferocity. 

Once you reach the end of a corridor, she unlocks the singular door that exists in this corner of the level and shoos you inside, following you right after.

Her room was unexpectedly neat, not that you let yourself really look around. 

But it was difficult not to notice the air conditioner along with her much-larger-than-yours closet. 

She passes you a new and folded towel for you to dry your hair and body while she searches for something to wear. 

“Do you want to take a shower first?” She asks whilst rummaging through her closet. “No, it's fine.” It would be too suspicious if you skipped a shower a few hours after your friends woke up.

“Suit yourself.” She answers before handing over to you a thick Princeton sweater with long sleevss and cuffs with a pair of long cotton trousers.

Clarisse had the decency to turn around as you changed and only turned back around once you were done. “Just give me the towel.” She says. “It's laundry day tomorrow anyways.”

You stand near her bedside table after that, eyeing the small picture frame that sat there in solidarity. There was a picture of her, much younger than she is now, and an older woman with her hands around her shoulder.

“Is that your mom?” You asked. Clarisse walked over and shoved the frame down on the table, a CLACK noise following the action. “Someone's chatty.” She noted. But you thought you heard a slight tremble.

“Right, sorry. I should go now.” You feel whatever friendliness that managed to slip through the cracks ofnyour interaction with her, begin to dissolve. 

It was easy to be reminded of who Clarisse La Rue actually was.

“What's the rush, I'm sure the rain water have woken you up quite well.” She replies, sitting down on her bed. “Look, I appreciate the help. But if my roommates wake up and they see that I'm gone, they-” 

“They'll think you're using the bathroom.” She cuts you off. “For 20 minutes?” Clarisse shrugs. “Some people have issues.”

You sighed at her answer and felt your feet beginning to hurt from standing up for too long without shoes outside the school. You're tired and easily irritated after what just happened, and her push and pull behavior isn't helping.

“I don't know why you want me to stay, I'm tired, you're tired. And it's almost 4am.” You throw your arms up in exasperation. “I just wanna go back to sleep and act like this never happened.”

“You know, I'm just trying to make sure you're alright. Because despite your objection, that did happen. And that's not normal. So a thank you would suffice.” Her demeanor had changed into frustration, she was not someone who takes rejection well.

“I already thanked you. And I don't need a free counseling session from a bully- who by the way, ripped a drawing out of my sketchbook.” Clarisse's head jerked back at your words. She stood up to properly face you before you could run out of her room.

“Oh that's it, isn't it? I'm such a terrible person and your moral righteousness can't stand it, and yet you dedicated a whole page to my face.” You could no longer tell what she was feeling from her tone of voice. Was she amused or defensive?

“That book isn't yours to see, let alone to take.” You snapped back. 

“It has my face on it, of course it's mine to take.” she scoffed, folding her arms together.

“Oh wow, I wonder what else you assume is yours to take with that kind of pretentiousness.” You retorted, laughing dryly at her face. 

The smugness disappeared, and for a second, you felt proud.

“You know, for someone I can easily make life living hell for, you're starting to get way too daring. It's not cute anymore.” Clarisse's feet stepped closer to you, until your noses were inches away from each other. 

There is fear in crossing the point where you can never go back when it comes to her anger. But you have never been the kind of girl to lay back and take a kick from anyone else.

You're also not the type of girl to think that you owe anyone anything for some common decency.

“I’m so genuinely curious Clarisse, who do you think you are? You're just another girl in this place, like the rest of us. Legacy student or not.” 

An unhumourous smile paints her face as she shakes her head at you. “You have no idea who I am. And at this point, I'm starting to think that I should've just left you in the rain to freeze and die.” 

“I would've woken up and left anyway, even if you weren't there.” As upset as you are with her, that part specifically caused you guilt to say aloud. She was obnoxious, but she did help you. 

“Oh sure, miss tortured artist galloping in the thunderstorm-” 

“I wasn't gallop- you know what?” It felt like the 100th time you were telling her off. “I'm actually leaving this time. So, thank you, for helping me, and thank you for your narcissism.” 

You gripped the door handle tightly and spared her no glance as you pull it open and walked out away from her. You wanted to slam the door on her face but thought twice when you remembered that it's 4am and someone could've heard you.

You tiptoed your way back into the elevator and up to level 20. The dorm room was unlocked, unsurprisingly so.

The dark room's only source of light is the bright moon glowing numbly through the closed curtains behind Harper's bed. The rain have subsided, all the nightmarish lighting qnd thunder have stopped.

You gently climbed up onto your bed, eager to get under the covers. You could see the shadows of your friends from where you lay. Their silhouette giving you a peace of mind. 

If either of them had heard of what just happened to you, they would panic. It's been 2 days, and yet they care for you so easily.

You rub your feet together, trying to diffuse the coldness away.

Tonight, whatever that had happened, felt unreal. But tomorrow all will be well. It had to be. 

-

You had not slept a wink for the rest of the hours before your alarm went off.

There were times where you almost dozed off, but for some reason it felt like your tired body was unable to fully shut down and let go of the main control.

You know that sleepiness was evident in your face, but your roommates said nothing of it as they rose up, preparing to rush for the bathroom before the other girls could.

"Did you change clothes last night?" Harper asks absentmindedly. She pulls her hair up into a bun and grabbed her towel from the spinning chair by her table. 

You looked down at the sweatshirt and back up at her. "Oh-uh, yeah. I got cold last night, with the rain and all." 

"I figured. I just know the chill out there is gonna be crazy today." The both of them left after that for their shower and secured you a booth to get in to after they were done. Thankfully, there was a bit of hot water left for you to indulge in.

It was exactly what you needed after the horrifics you've experienced through a few hours before.

You had spent the hours before getting up, going over the dream you had. It was rare for you to remember your nightmares, let alone be aware that you were dreaming while you're doing it.

You could also remember small details like the glass window with the giant statue, your mother's necklace and the way her face appeared and disappeared. You've never been a superstitious person, but was there a possibility that dreams like that meant something? Or was it just another lucid dream?

You'd thought that you'd feel comforted, seeing your mother that way, and the way she fussed over you. But all you felt was a strong distinction. An awareness that she was not real, and that she'd never be.

There were 2 other girls in the bathroom with you when you were done showering. One was using the sink on your left, and another was still cleaning themselves up.

You forced the freezing water all over your face, trying to refresh yourself and hopefully make your face look less beated. Looking into the mirror felt like a challenge. The dream still haunts you even now. You almost expect a child to stare back from the glass. And god, how you feel like a child right now, out of place and confused.

After a few more splashes, you wiped the droplets off with your towel and clenched your toes as you walked back to your dorm.

The girls were halfway done getting ready when you entered. Their bags were stacked by the door on the way out. "You're a bit slow today." Tella noted as she struggles to keep her hair up without the strands falling out.

"Couldn't really sleep last night." You told them as you began putting on your plaited skirt. The zip had completely fallen off as you tried to pull it up. You swore aloud and had to restrain yourself from banging your head on your table. Everything was going wrong today. From the 3am sleepwalking to your stupid skirt dysfunction.

"What? What is it?" Harper asked in response to your outburst.

"My zip fell off." You mumbled in annoyance. Her head tilted towards you in concern. "I have a safety pin, I think it'd work. Do you want it?"

"Yes please." You answer. She pulls out a tiny box of safety pins from her drawer and hands you one to use. "Thanks."

"Don't sweat it." Harper was the first to finish. She helped Tella fix her ponytail for the 5th time, slapping her hand away when she tried to tighten it herself. 

Once the three of you were all done, you left together, locking the dorm doors and going down through the full elevator.

You had stuffed Clarisse's still clean clothes inside your school bag when they were showering. You planned to return it to her owner, and let that be the last time you'll ever owe Clarisse La Rue anything. 

The girls had probably assumed your behavior had something to do with homesickness, as they went on without question. You were grateful for the lack of conversation. The last thing you wanted to do today was talk. 

You had questions bugging your mind and the need to isolate yourself. It's what you always do whenever you're feeling disturbed and overwhelmed, you black out from the rest of the world.

Carefully walking down the school halls to your locker, you half expected people to stare at you differently, afraid that someone else might've seen you from last night, but everyone minded their business, and so uou did too. 

You were pulling out your books from the locker when you hear Tella turning around to greet someone, taking a step further away from you and Harper. You twist your neck to meet the mystery man who's in conversation with your friend.

Sharing a look with Harper, she only shook her head nonchalantly before leaning closer to you. "That's Luke Castellan." She whispered.

The name was recognised quickly, old conversations with Tella being brought back in memory. "That's the guy she likes?"

Harper nodded. "Well, does he like her back?"

Harper shrugged. "They compared hand sizes, so I think so. But who knows with boys." You made a face at her and nodded warily. "As long as she's happy." You tell her. It wasn't that Luke was unattractive, it's that he sounded so much like a regular teenage boy that you have grown to have an automatic dislike for. 

It wasn't his fault that the species of his sex have failed in their entirety. 

Harper was about to say something else when Tella suddenly called for you and had gotten closer. "This is our new roommate I was talking about." She says to Luke, gesturing to you.

Up close, you could see that he has a scar on his cheek. He also had dark curls and brown eyes that seemed to fit the whole american sweetheart vibes that Tella was obviously into.

"Hey." You greeted him without any animosity. He smiled and returned the greeting, giving you a small wave. "How do you like it here so far?" He asks.

"Well, it's only been 2 days but I think it's alright." You answer dishonestly. Obviously you weren't going to tell him that this place has conjured some deeply problematic things from inside of you like sleepwalking and attracting assholes. 

His grin doesn't falter as he takes in your words. "Not exactly an exciting place, is it? At least you're in good company." You forced out a tight smile for him. God only knows just how exciting it's been for you, and it hasn't even been a week. 

You thought of cutting to the chase by telling him it's nice knowing him and walking off before your eyes landed on a girl walking past the lot of you.

Clarisse La Rue kept her eyes straight ahead as she headed for the classroom at the back. Her clothes are still in your bag that's sat on the floor. You picked it up and slung it over your shoulder and excused yourself from all three of them, making Luke and Tella move to the side to give you space. “I gotta go.”

"See you in recess." Tella called out. You raise your arm and give her a thumbs up and keep walking down the same path Clarisse did.

What a coincidence that you two are on the same class today? History is an interesting subject, one you're fully prepared to enjoy. But the thought of being anywhere close to the curly haired girl, makes your stomach feel like they're tied in knots.

You managed to chase after her before she was seated on her desk. And the class was thankfully still half empty since the bell hadn't rang yet. Your mind is racked on how you're supposed to just pass her a plastic of her clothes in the most subtle way possible. 

But of course, your mouth had a mind of its own when you impulsively shouted out her name.

Clarisse had just dropped her own bag down against her table when she heard your call. She instantly turned around to face you. "New girl." She addressed you. 

She widens her eyes in question. You push the plastic bag in your arms into her chest, and your fingers brush as she takes it from you to examine it. "Oh, this." 

"Thank you for the clothes." You say monotonously. Neither of you looked pleased to see each other, but what's unexpected still, is that she also didn't look like she wanted to kill you like she did last night. 

Clarisse waved it off and crouched down to keep the plastic inside her own bag.

You stood there waiting until she was gone and stood back up to see you. Something is supposed to be said in a moment like this, but none of you did.

And so with a small nod to enclose the interaction, you spun on your heels to egt to your table. Your feet was locked in place when you felt her hands on your shoulder. 

You looked at her with raised brows in expectation.

"This is yours." She says, passing you a folded A4 paper. Your first thought was that this was your drawing that she took. But you hadn't used the kind of paper she was giving. You took the paper suspiciously. “What's this?” You asked.

She only says: “You'll see,” with a shrug.

The moment her grip was lifted from your shoulder,  you walked and sat yourself at your desk, and tried your hardest not to turn around. 

The bell had just begun to ring outside of the class, and other students were filling into the small space. 

Whatever it was, you'd look at it later. For now, it's folded four times more and stuffed into your pencil case. 

-

When one grows up, constantly having to take care of themselves without adult supervision or emotional support, they are also forced to belittle and diminish their own fears in an attempt to rise over their struggles to survive in a hostile environment.

And so you’ve had to learn to do things such as walking home from school alone and risking unwanted attention from men and how to hide a knife under your knuckles for prevention purposes. 

And yet as you overcame these fears one by one, only two you had found impossible to fight. And that is your fear of moths and butterflies, and your fear of heights. 

And yet, standing up here on the roof, arms placed against the railing and looking down, all you could think of is how beautiful the view was from up here. You could see the closed area of the school from above here. Green grass filled the large space that is guarded behind white walls and a large sign that said ‘NO ENTRY.’ 

The railing shook slightly, making you jerk back. The cringing noise it made hurts your ear as it vibrates. Taking a few steps back, you figured it’s safer to watch from a distance. 

You cocked your head down again, taking one last glance down and tried to memorize the image of the flowery laced garden. Your friends would be looking for you now, you thought..

Your feet moved you to the closed door that awaits for your exits, and yet, as your hand wraps against the holder, the heaviness of it suddenly becomes unbearable. You wiped your hands on your skirt and tried to open the door again, but it wouldn’t budge. 

“Shit.” You muttered under your breath. There wasn’t even a lock on this thing. Or was there? You couldn’t remember. You completely let go of the door and sprinted back towards the railing. Was there anyone that could help you? 

No, of course not. The area was prohibited for anyone to cross. The same grasses and dying flowers watching you from underneath. 

The railing shook again as you scanned the place thoroughly. This time it jerks so harshly that the left side of it completely pulls away from its metal and threatens to fall off. You jumped back just in time to not fall off, but your heart drops so strongly that it feels like you’ve already fallen. 

You consider trying to pull back the railing and somehow pressing it back on it’s screw, but the damage was unfixable when you observed it in closer view. You think back to your main problem, escaping this place. 

There was no other choice than to simply try pulling the door harder, and to scream for help.

You give all of your strength into pulling. “Help!” You shouted. “I'm stuck on the roof! Hello?”

The door felt like it shook a little, your cramped fingers kept on pulling until you were sure it really was opening. You paused for a minute to squeeze your fingers inside your palms.

“One last try.” You breathed out. Your hands give your best tug while your feet stay on the ground, unmoving. You hear a creak and your heart almost bursts out of hope.

Consistently pulling still, you could actually see the edges of the door sliding through, opening slowly. One, two three- 

It opens widely with a slam, you're pushed back until your back hits the ground. Getting back up onto your knees, you rose up and aimed for the door. But the emptiness on the other side of the door held you back.

You gasped loudly. There was no staircase on your opposite. There was no concrete or flat ground for you to land your feet on. Only air and steepness. It was like a never ending hole to fall into, the kind of hole you imagined Alice had jumped inside of to arrive in wonderland.

Panic washed all over you. And as you're pacing around at the roof, you hear someone calling your name. It was help, somebody had arrived to help. The shouting was faint,  but you heard it clearly anyways. You returned to the railing and searched for any spot of people, but no one wasn't there.

You hear the voice again, calling your name. It's getting louder,  but you're not sure where it's coming from.  You yell back on the top of your lungs.  “I'm here!” And the response became more vivid.

“Miss?” You hear it like it's behind you.

You snapped your head to your back, nothing. 

“Wake up.” The voice insisted. “I'm not dreaming.” You pushed. “This isn't a dream.” 

“Wake up. Wake up. Wake up.” The shouting was shrilling, your ears could be bleeding and you'd believe it.

“Wake up.” It screamed into your ear as you knelt down on the ground, covering your ears with both hands.

“Wake up!” You felt hands shaking your back. Your head looks up in a state of disorientation. 

“Miss?” It was your biology teacher, bending down to meet your eyes,  skeptically watching you.

“Everyone left, sweetheart.” She says, pointing at all the empty tables in the classroom. You hate that pet name. It always sounds so mocking.

This was the last class you had for today, the lack of sleep must've caught up with you. You straightened your back and apologized to Ms. Rhodes for keeping her waiting. She only shook her head and tells you to take care before leaving the classroom.

You looked around the class and tried to remind yourself that whatever you had seen in your mind, was just a dream. It wasn't real. And yet it felt like it, just like the dream you had last night. And in both dreams, you had been aware of the surroundings in ways you shouldn't be.

You wiped your hands over your face and yawned quietly. The clock above the board shows that it's already past 6pm. You cracked your knuckles together and lifted your bag onto your shoulders. If you're quick, you could still make it to the dorm showers before 7.

You stopped by your locker to stack your books inside of it. The hallway is empty, you're not sure how long you fell asleep, but everyone else seems to dread being inside this building more than they needed to.

You think of the vividness of the school landscape from your dream. The place had a staircase that led to the rooftop by the janitor's closet at the back. A small voice encourages you to try and retrace the steps in your dream, just to see how different iit was compared to real life. 

But instead of going up the stairs, you notice the space behind it, and ducked your head down underneath instead. 

There is a closed door a few steps away from the roof entrance staircase. It was a glass door covered with black plastic and a No Entry sign plastered on it. Those words ring a bell in your head.

You pushed it open gently and was pleased to see that it wasn't even locked. Whoever's trying to guard this place from students obviously isn't very good at their job.

The door opened up just enough for you to slide yourself inside. You weren't surprised to see a room of forests hidden inside.

This must be the garden. It wasn't quite like you dreamed it, but it was accurate enough.  It's smaller than expected,  and it's much more empty than I envisioned. 

You circle the place, paying attention to the roots and veins that have crawled up the walls, stepping your feet on the overgrown weeds and leaves. 

You flinched when you hear the leaves ruffles and turn to see the invader. Your shock immediately subsided and morphed into irritation when you saw her.

“Are you following me?” You ask in disbelief. 

Clarisse frowned and denies it. “No? I was-?” She takes the time to think of an excuse until eventually she just sighs and shook her head. “Yes, okay maybe I did follow you here- but only because this is forbidden ground.”

“And you're so good at obeying rules?” You sarcastically question, earning an eye roll. “No, really though, what are you doing here?” 

“I had a dream about the garden.” Clarisse waved her hands in confusion and frowned deeper. “Okay…that’s great?” You gave up trying to explain to her and focused back on your surrounding.

You tilted your head up at the sky, almost expecting to see the roof and a broken railing, but there is tinted dark glass coves the school roof for the safety of the mids, you thought.}, so all you saw staring back down is a closed building.

“You know, there you used to be a weeping angel here.” Clarisse spoke suddenly. “Hm?”

“A statue. Right in the middle.” She clarifies.

“Did they remove it because of Samara?” You asked. Clarisse's eyes widen and she looks you up and down with her hands on her hips. “Who told you about Samara?” 

“My roommates.” 

“Of course they did. Can't keep their mouth shut for shit.” Clarise scoffed. You feel overprotective over your friends, knowing them to have good intentions. “Don't talk about them like that.” 

Clarisse ignores your warnings and instead moves like she's about to leave. “We should go. The teachers like to do a 360 before locking shit up.” She walks out without waiting. And despite your annoyance, you followed her still.

The two of you quietly walked side by side until you're out of school grounds and entered the dorm building together.  There were some girls hanging out on the water fountain and near the elevator, but they paid no mind to either of you.

Clarisse's head is aimed straight ahead, and you consider it the longest she's gone without saying something stupid to you. 

Once the elevator stops at her level, she gives you one last glance, her fierce eyes boring deep into yours for that split second. You thought you saw a shadow of a smile ghosting over her face, but before you could confirm, the door closes, and you're on your way to the Hecate level. 

After unlocking the door of your dorm, you threw your bag onto the ground and basically swung yourself on your bed, making Harper jump while she's putting on her skincare. “You look like shit.” She tells you.

You snorted and rolled over until you're facing the ceiling. “I feel like it.”

She hummed casually and went on with her business. 

You lifted your head up slightly to see Tella, but she's nowhere to be found.

“Where's Tella?” You asks Harper. “Showering.” She responds. “I don't know what's taking her so long, but you'll probably see her when you go to the bathroom.”

You nodded in understanding and began to undress yourself from the school clothes, putting them on the side for washing later. 

You then started pulling out your notebooks that had homework in it and stacked it on your desk. Only after you pulled your pencil case out, you remembered about the piece of paper Clarisse had given you.

Curiously, you basically snatched it from inside your case, and unfold the paper from its small size into a large white A4 again. 

Inside was the ugliest cartoonish image you’ve ever seen in your whole life.

It's a drawing. A badly drawn girl, half up only, with hair that supposedly, looks like yours. And a nose that didn't have the right proportions for the face size. 

You smiled at the image subconsciously. You're sure Clarissebhad given this to you as some sort of trade, her picture for her, and your picture for you. It could even mean a truce between you two. 

But instead of stressing over what deeper meaning does her doodles really have, you folded it back and kept it by your night lamp.

“Why are you smiling like that?” Harper asks, you meet her eyes through the mirror. “Nothing, I just remembered something funny.” You lied. She squints her eyes really hard as if she’s trying to read through you for any lies but then gives up after a few seconds of it.  

Your smile disappeared as soon as it came, you picked your towel up and acted as if nothing happened and made your way to the bathroom. 

What is your stance towards Clarisse? Inconclusive. She’s there behind every ostracizing event that has occurred to you so far. And you wonder just how big of a part does she really play into all of this. Her gaze still burns in the back of your mind, it’s almost impossible to escape her even when she’s not centered around any of the issues. 

Should you let things play out in her way or should you keep fighting her off, stubborn to break the cycle of a moth to a flame,

[nsharks]

white bandages (the process of healing) | simon "ghost" riley

part 2 to this fic. I will very likely have a part 3 to wrap things up. —tags: tw blood, ghost + therapy, mild angst, fluff too —running out of pictures to use of this man so this is an edit by @ave661

Fluorescent light falls over an unmasked face. It highlights every ridge of every scar, his shorn stubble, his pale skin. When was the last time Simon Riley took a good look in the mirror? He can't remember— there are many things he works hard to avoid, and his own name is scribbled at the top of the list.

That first night without you, he finds himself in front of the mirror and half expects to see a ghost staring back at him. A corpse, maybe.

But, instead, he sees a man who lives and breathes. A man whose need for sleep is evident in the grey blotches under his eyes. A man whose eyes are anything but empty.

I feel nothing.

No—a ghost feels nothing. A ghost would've been able to forget how you looked at him, your eyes wide with the same fear he used to stare at his old man in. But Simon is not a ghost, and he remembers the fresh images with a pain that starts in his ribs and works its way to the pit of his stomach. Burning. It is a pain so unfamiliar that he doesn't know what to do with it—

—so he seeks a pain that he does know.

Pain that bursts in his hand the moment it meets the mirror. Pain accompanied by the splintering of glass as he hits the mirror over and over, and not once does he make a sound or cry or anything of the sort. He just breathes heavily and, once the mirror is not much of a mirror anymore, he looks at his hand and sees the bits of glass and the blood, and - fucking hell - it does nothing to mask what he feels in his chest.

"Jesus Christ."

He sighs.

His breathing slowly begins to settle.

And then he gets out the medical kit he keeps in the cabinet, sits with it on his bed, and carefully picks out the glass from his hand.

He knows how to take care of this wound. Knows exactly what to do to fix it.

But there are some things Ghost— Simon— doesn't know how to fix; wounds that are far too deep for him to reach. And as he wraps his hand up with some gauze, he remembers what you'd said to him earlier that day, so damn caring and gentle, even in your desire to get away from him:

I think you need help. You deserve it, Simon.

------

You loved the snow.

One time, you made Simon build a snowman with you. Well— it was more like you building the snowman while he watched and critiqued it. Your snowman looks like he's seen some rough shit, pet. Jesus, where is his smile? You had pouted through your laughter, nudging his shoulder. You can't judge him for not smiling, Si. Just like I don't judge you for it.

Of course, you ended up with a handful of snow in your hair for that one.

Quite the mouth on you today, huh?

And then he was rolling his eyes and lifting up his mask to kiss you as your hands combed out the ice from your hair, and you swore you felt him smiling against your lips— but you could never know for sure.

You loved that snowy day with him.

But now—

Now you're not sure if you're so happy about the snow you wake up to.

It's been a week of space. Work has been your main distraction, and you know you need to get the fallen snow off your windshield before you can make it there today.

But when you walk out into the white morning with a coat slipped over your pajamas, you find that your car is already being cleared off by a familiar silhouette with broad shoulders and a black, winter coat.

The cold squeezes your chest. Your heartbeat is swallowed up.

Seven days ago, you had begged him for space. Seven days ago, you left his place with defeat thick in your veins.

Today, you're not sure what you feel as you simply stand there for a moment. Your cheeks bitten to pink by the air and your arms crossed over your body. You watch him draw the brush over the hood, so easily, with one hand stuffed in his pocket, but then his eyes are drifting up— up until they land on where you stand a few meters away, and your fingertips dig into the palms of your hands.

He's the first one to speak. A man of few words who leans the brush against your car and utters a simple:

"Hey."

"Hey," you clear your throat, "Um, why are you doing this?”

He takes a step closer to you, but only one. A tentative step that keeps a good gap between your bodies, where faint flakes of snow fill the space.

“I know we are havin’ space right now," he murmurs. Gentle, murky eyes hold your stare. He slips the hidden hand out from his pocket, only for a short moment, to brush off the snow from his other hand, and you spot the flash of white bandages before it disappears into his coat again.

"But I also know you're workin' today so I thought I'd just... make your morning easier.”

"Thanks," your eyes drift to the ground. "But I don't know— I'm not sure if I'm ready..."

"S'okay," he says, gruff yet incredibly careful, a tiptoe over what lays damaged. "I'm not askin' anything of you, alright?"

“Alright,” you say quietly before your eyes drift to his pocket. “What happened to your hand?”

You’re not sure why you are asking him, and you doubt if the truth will even leave his lips. Wounds— over a year with him, and you’d witnessed plenty. Wounds that you only ever found out about when your fingers would graze under his shirt as he fucked you, and you’d carefully ask what happened as you both lay there breathless. Nothin’ worth telling you about, was his usual answer.

But today, with a peppering of snow on his mask and a sigh pooling from his breath, he tells you earnestly, “Broke my bloody mirror, is what happened.”

“What?”

“Look— it’s not important, yeah? There’s somethin’ else… somethin' else I wanted to tell you before you go to work, and I don’t expect anythin’ from you, but I just thought I should tell you.”

“I— okay,” you blink rapidly, still hung up on the mirror part. But you nod your head and shift your weight from foot to foot, willing yourself to listen to what he wants to tell you because maybe your heart is beginning to thump firm, expectant beats against your ribs, and maybe there are flakes of hope peppering the defeat in your chest, just like the snow that dusts Simon’s shoulders.

But what Simon has to tell you feels like pebbles in his mouth. He’s not good with words; his failure with them seven days ago is a testament to that. These pebbles sit behind his teeth for a lingering moment, before he finds the strength to push them out between the cracks.

(Perhaps, it’s all your patience and care for even the darkest parts of him that has finally given him this strength.)

“I talked to someone yesterday,” he tells you.

He exhales immediately.

You’re not sure if you’ve heard him correctly at first - there is no way? - but the words hang in the cold air as he stares at you with lowered brows, studying the expression on your face, and your lips part open like a bloody koi fish because this is not at all what you expected him to say.

“Really?” you finally breathe, a lilt of relief catching at the end. “You did?”

“Get it free through the military,” he mumbles with a nod, clearing his throat. “Thought a lot about what you said, yeah?”

Numbly, you sputter again, “You did?” But then you shake your head and rub your arms, “Sorry, I mean— that’s so good to hear, Simon. That’s just… How was it?”

“Bloody difficult,” he admits in a mumble, and only you, the person closest to him these days, are able to detect the minor tremor in his voice. “But - fuck - I’m gonna keep doin’ it.”

“Maybe it’ll get easier,” you tell him, drawing an arm over your eyes.

“Yeah.”

“I’m… really proud of you.”

You’re not even fully aware of your crying— no, you’re too focused on the sudden warmth that floods your chest because it is now you realize that if there is no worse feeling than watching someone you care for refuse to help themselves, then there is also no better feeling than hearing that help is something they are finally seeking.

And you care about Simon.

You have for so long, even when the agreement was just sex. Even when you'd flinched away. Even when you spent a week distracting yourself from thoughts of him.

This agreement you shared had turned into care. And you care, you care, you care. You care so much that you forget about the space you'd begged him for in this moment that you rush over to him, closing the cold and hesitant gap as your arms wrap around his neck and your forehead presses into his coat.

But the body against you is stiff and unmoving.

Your smile of relief turns into something apologetic and confused when two strong hands gently push you away.

You peer up at him.

"Don't think that's a good idea, pet."

"What?" you exhale, frowning.

He puts his hands back into his pockets. "I've hurt you, yeah?"

"I know, but—"

"I never want to do that again," he murmurs firmly. "Need some more time before I can make that promise to you."

Your heart sinks and floats and tries to swim through everything you feel. You can't discern all the feelings— there's so much. A flood. He's looking down at you as if you are the most fragile thing and as if, even by just getting too close, he might frighten you again.

"More space, then?" you whisper, stepping back.

Where you'd been the one to start it, now you are the one disappointed by it.

The short nod he gives is confirmation, but before you can get too down about it, he allows this: his good hand reaching out to grab yours. He kisses your knuckles with warm, masked lips.

"I care about you," he murmurs against your hand. "So goddamn much."

"I care about you, too."

"I know," and he lowers your hand, carefully rubbing the back of it. "Wanna be the kind of man you deserve. But I need to—" and his bandaged hand lifts up to tap a finger against his temple, "Need to sort through all the shit in here, yeah?"

"Okay," you whisper, nod, and sniffle. "They'll help you with it. You just have to let them in, Simon."

But he doesn't have anything to say to that— his source of words is a bit depleted. This week has drained him in every way possible, visible to you in the bags under his eyes. A squeeze of your hand is the last thing he has to offer before he lets it go, and then he is off to finish clearing your car.

(Although, you already know you will have a hard time getting to work on time this morning.)

[l33bang24]

Healing Hearts (Chapter 2)

Pairing: Single Dad! Chan x Fem Reader

Summary: Y/N, desperate to leave her troubled past behind, decides to start fresh in a foreign country. Struggling to secure a job, she stumbles upon a babysitting opportunity offered by an elderly woman who lives nearby. Babysitting the daughter of a famous idol is the last thing she ever expected to be doing. What will she do when her past comes back to haunt her just as she begins to find peace?

⚠️CW⚠️: Self-hatred, depression, crying, dreams, angst, death of a minor character (lmk if I missed anything)

🏷: @manuosorioh @palindrome969 @real-life-dwaekii @nebugalaxy @itzzyyyyyyydaaaa @catlove83 @ivydoesit23 @resi4skz @vinumque @ntlmundy @rose-w-00-d @rundontwalkshesaid @jennibahng @lailac13 @gn4bnahc @addies29 @greyyeti @joyofbebbanburg (Taglist open)

(All dividers are made by @saradika , all credit goes to her)

<Prev

Y/N’s POV

I look up at the towering building ahead of me, its glass façade reflecting the sunlight. Glancing at the paper in my hands, I mutter, "These are the coordinates Eun Ji gave me. I hope she shows up.” I find a nearby bench and settle down, trying to calm my racing thoughts. It's still early, but I needed the extra time after the unsettling nightmare I experienced.

This morning reminded me that no matter how far you run away from your past, it still follows you. I tried going back to sleep, but I was terrified of going back to that hellhole again. My eyes eventually closed right before my alarm clock went off. I rubbed the fatigue out of my eyes and focused on the world around me: cars going and people walking to their destinations.

I sat on the bench, my mind consumed with worry and anticipation, when a figure approached. A lady, slightly older than me, called out, "Y/N?" I looked up and nodded in response. "Hello, Y/N! I'm EunJi. We've been in touch via email regarding an apartment complex." I rose from the bench and greeted her warmly. "I apologize if you weren't able to reach me by phone. I haven't turned it back on just yet." That wasn't entirely true. I had turned it on briefly, only to turn it off again at the sight of missed calls and voicemails.

"It's perfectly fine! Would you be interested in stepping inside for a closer look?" I agreed, and we made our way to the front entrance. As we stepped inside, I noticed the interior was elegantly simple, featuring cream-colored walls and tiled flooring. Directly ahead was the front desk, flanked by elevators on either side and a couple of staircases. After a short wait, Eun Ji returned with the keys to the apartment. As we stepped into the elevator, she pressed the button for the 3rd floor.

As we approach the apartment door, I eagerly anticipate stepping inside. Upon entering, I absorb the details of the space. The apartment spans approximately 30 square meters, with the kitchen positioned to the left and the bathroom to the right from the entrance. Continuing past the kitchen, I encounter the combined bedroom and living area. The bed is on the opposite side of the wall from the kitchen, with the entertainment area conveniently located across from the bed. A storage area is thoughtfully positioned between the bathroom and the TV. Notably, there's a charming balcony straight ahead from the entrance, adding an inviting outdoor element to the living space.

I recognized immediately from the captivating pictures that this space exuded beauty. Still, the moment I set foot inside, seeing my favorite comforting colors in person, was a truly unforgettable experience. The color schemes artfully combined shades of black and gray, creating a sophisticated and inviting atmosphere. Unable to contain my delight, I couldn't help but smile and express to Eun Ji, "It's even more stunning in person than I could have ever imagined." Her response was a warm smile as she remarked, "Well, I'm thrilled to hear that."

Once Eun Ji and I reached an agreement on the cost and signed the contract, I handed over the deposit for the apartment. She assured me she was finalizing the details and promised to contact me as soon as possible to arrange my move-in. As I left the apartment building, a sense of contentment washed over me, marking a gradual but significant step forward in my life.

Bang Chan’s POV

I awakened suddenly, jolted out of another restless night plagued by the recurring dream that seemed impossible to shake. Glancing at the clock on my nightstand, the red digits displayed 4 a.m. I let out a weary sigh and pushed the covers aside before heading to the bathroom. After splashing my face with cold water and drying it with a nearby towel, I stared at the reflection in the mirror, filled with discontent. My features seemed to taunt me - the emergence of fine lines, thinning hair, a prominent nose, and the dreaded dark circles under my eyes. I averted my gaze, unwilling to confront the image staring back at me.

Heading to the closet, I opened the door and scanned the neatly arranged rows of clothing. I reached for the stack of neatly folded gym clothes, feeling the soft fabric between my fingers as I selected the perfect outfit for my early morning workout. Anticipating a restless night ahead, I chose something comfortable and breathable. After carefully selecting the clothes, I closed the closet door and headed to the dresser to pick a fresh pair of socks. Once dressed, I grabbed my gym bag and began to neatly fold and pack my post-workout attire, placing the towels on top to ensure I had everything I needed for the morning. Heading into the kitchen, I opened the pantry and selected a couple of granola bars and an apple for quick, on-the-go snacks. Then, I went to the fridge to refill my stainless steel water bottle, ensuring I would stay hydrated throughout the day.

As I gathered everything I needed, I tiptoed down the hallway to check on Miryung in her room. Peeking inside, I noticed her peacefully asleep, which put my mind at ease. I knew I would return before she woke, so I didn't linger too long. With my bag slung over my shoulder and keys in hand, I stepped out of the front door, locking it behind me, ready to tackle the day ahead.

As I made my way to the gym, I quickly realized that it was conveniently close to my house, which made the drive there pleasantly short. Upon arriving, I was pleasantly surprised to find Changbin already there. I couldn't resist asking him, "What brings you here so early?" His response was a nonchalant shrug accompanied by a warm and friendly smile. "I could ask you the same thing, but then I'm reminded that you don't sleep," he quipped. I playfully rolled my eyes and headed to the locker room. I found a vacant locker and retrieved my lock, key, headphones, water bottle, and a granola bar. After stowing away my belongings, I headed back out to meet Changbin.

I began my workout by slowly easing into it with some stretching. I wanted to make sure I wouldn't strain any muscles today. Once I finished my stretches, I started a timer on my watch. I headed to the Chest Fly machine since I had focused on my legs during my last workout. Changbin joined me, and together, we found our rhythm as we moved from one machine to the next, spotting each other along the way.

The timer on my watch went off, and I stopped it. By the time I was done, my hair was clinging to my forehead, my shirt was soaked, and sweat dripped from places I didn't even know I could sweat. I made my way to the locker room, pulling out my fresh change of clothes and shower essentials, ready to clean up after an intense session.

Feeling refreshed after my shower, I checked the time to see that I finished on time, which was great timing. I grabbed my belongings and waved to Changbin as I left. The house was quiet when I unlocked the door, meaning I still had time before Miryung woke up. I threw my workout clothes and towels in the washer and turned it on. I moved to the fridge to make breakfast for Miryung and myself.

I open the fridge to see what I can make. I found a container of leftover rice and a pack of ground beef and decided to make Gyeran Bap with beef Bulgogi. I pulled out all the needed ingredients: an iron skillet and a saucepan. I place the saucepan on the stove and turn to low heat. I add the leftover rice and add three tablespoons of water. I break up the clumps and add some butter to it. Putting a lid on the pan, I place the skillet on the stove next and turn the dial to medium heat.

As I worked on cooking the meat, rice, and eggs, I carefully plated everything with a side of kimchi that Mrs. Kim had left for us. My little angel had already woken up and was perched on a stool at the countertop, her curious eyes following my every move in the kitchen. "Do you want milk or pineapple juice?" I asked, placing her meal in front of her. "Pineapple," she replied with a sweet smile. I couldn't help but smile back, thinking, "Just like her Daddy." As I turned to serve her, I saw her patiently waiting for me to say a blessing so she could start eating.

My heart swells with emotion as I sit beside her, preparing to say the blessing before our meal. As we both dive into the delicious food, there's a comfortable silence between us, filled with contentment. Once we've finished eating, I gather our dishes, and that's when she surprises me with unexpected praise. "Your cooking has improved, Daddy," she says. I'm taken aback, wondering whether to be pleased or insulted. Miryung then comes down from her stool and offers to help me with the dishes, her sweet gesture melting any uncertainty away. I smile at her and reply, "Of course, Pumpkin, let me grab a stool." I show her how to handle the smaller tasks like utensils and bowls while I take care of the skillet and saucepan.

We relocated to the living room and suddenly engaged in a spontaneous tickle fight. It all began with her playfully poking my sides, which led to me retaliating by tickling her, causing her to erupt into fits of joyful laughter. After a while, I relented, and Miryung then climbed onto my lap and nestled herself into the warmth of my chest. The kids and I have some vacation time before our comeback. I had already made plans for both of us; I just needed to tell her, but Miryung beat me to it. “I had a dream about Mommy last night.” I look down at her with a sad smile. “What did you dream about?”

She picks her head up from my chest to look at me. “She was waiting for me at the big tree on a hill. She told me how beautiful I am and that I look just like she did when she was younger. She also told me that I look like you too. She wished she could be with us, but God had a different plan for her.” I feel a stray tear run down my cheek. “She said she would want us to move on with our lives. We desire to be happy and know she's in a great place now.” I was fighting back tears, but a couple spilled through. Miryung looked down at her hands, and her body started shaking from her troubled sobs.

“Mommy held me, Daddy, and told me it would be alright that she loves me and you. She even sang me my favorite song.” She wraps her tiny arms around me, and I pull her to me tightly. “I miss her so much, Daddy. Why did she have to leave?” I closed my eyes and tried not to reminisce about the day's events. “I don't know, Pumpkin, but do you know what?” She pulls back to look at me with tear-stained cheeks. “She brought the most beautiful little girl into this world. She loved you so much. She sang to you daily and told many stories about her childhood. How she wanted to raise you, how she was raised. She had these crazy pregnancy cravings I had to fix for her. Your mom was a fighter; she fought until she couldn't anymore. But she is right; she's in a much better place and no longer in pain.”

I kiss her cheeks, smiling at her. “We’re not always given tomorrow; that's why we should always be thankful for today and never take anything for granted.” She smiles at me and kisses me on the cheek. “I love you, Daddy.” I kiss her forehead, “I love you too, Pumpkin. More than you'll ever know.”

We both lay there for a while before I remembered the good news. “Do you want to go see your grandparents?”

(Finally got a new chapter up! I decided to add Changbin since it was his birthday when I wrote it. So Happy Birthday, Changbin! I hope you all like it. LMK in the comments if you want to be added to the taglist. Thanks! ❤️)

[glader13]

Meet Me in Malaysia

A/N: Spoiler warning for season 2

- Wedding is the same day, but not the same year as the Shibuya Incident

Nanami always felt heavy on this day, as if his soul was being pulled down by an anchor. On this day, he could never shake the constant cold that hung over him like a cloud. His bed feels much larger, too big for his room. Too big for him, but he’ll never bring another into it. It’s a place only meant for you and him, it’s a place where your memory and scent lingers in the cloth of the sheets and blankets, in the seams of the mattress. It is on this day, when his soul seems to cry the loudest, yearning for its other half. He feels your presence the most on this day, feeling closer to you, more than ever. Feeling so close that he can pull you back down and into the security of his arms. He can’t bear to look at the wedding picture of the two of you on his nightstand, or any picture of you that he has around his house.

His wedding ring felt like a weight on his finger, encasing him in shame and anger at his failure to protect you. He can still feel the stickiness of your blood splattering on his tuxedo. He can still taste the iron, the bitterness, that got into his mouth. He should’ve been faster, been stronger. Maybe, if he wasn’t there, you would be here. October 31st, the day when his life simultaneously started and ended. His whole future was snuffed out by an attack that went through your chest. He only had you as his, officially, for a couple of hours. The two of you were married for only a couple of hours before he lost you. Instead of showering you with love, he visits the places that you like, that are important to the two of you. Nanami got out of bed, feeling sluggish and dull as he got ready for the day, remembering you, trying to chase remnants of you.

He began his day by parking in a neighboring city next to his first destination. Underneath the sun, he felt alienated. The children were too loud, people were smiling too easily. He felt colder than ever. He walked a couple of blocks to what he thought was an abandoned building but now has been turned into luxury apartments. Nanami felt his heart drop slightly, everything and everyone moved on, but he remained stuck. The history that you two shared was an anchor. He sat on a bench in front of the apartments, thinking of the memory that this place holds. The two of you went on your first mission together here, to exorcise a curse. Nanami smiles to himself at his memory of being in awe of your technique. It was a lightning type, instead of having a domain, you were able to summon lightning. But what made Nanami speechless was your swordsmanship. You moved like air with your katana, as if you were dancing.

You went through curses like they were paper, in milliseconds. It was a guilty pleasure of his, watching you move. His face warmed thinking of the times when you would teach him how to use your katana, your hands over his. Just as he was in awe of you that day, you were in awe of him. He hit his first black flash that day, and your stare made him feel like a knight. But what happened after, started something in his heart that he couldn’t have avoided.

“Damn,” you hunched over your phone, “It’s broken.”

“Your phone, right?” He placed his (broken) phone in his pocket as walked back to you. You dejectedly say “yea” causing him to lightly laugh, at least the two of you didn’t break anything. The two of you gave the cursed spirit one last look, you even kicked it, to make sure that it was dead before walking into the afternoon light. The sun was still shining, as you both stood on the edge of the road, not sure what to do.

“That was all we had to do?” You asked, beginning to walk towards the city area.

“Yes,” he kept pace beside you, “We got done early though.”

“That’s good,” you look at him, “Right?”

“I mean,” he said, “Yes, it shows that we’re efficient, so good job.”

You smiled, “Well, since we have a lot of the day left, we should get food to celebrate.”

Nanami frowned, believing that the best thing to do was to stay put because both of your phones were broken. But as he looked at your smile, he felt the fight in him disappear, suddenly feeling hungry. His face began to burn as he felt himself being led by you toward a random food destination. He noticed how your hand held his like he was going to slip away, and he noticed that his hand was extremely clammy, you were always adjusting your hand to his sweaty one, to make sure that his grip wouldn’t falter.

You led Nanami to a ramen restaurant, it was a cute one, with indoor and outdoor seating, and even a bar. The walls were painted black, coming to life with painted pictures of cherry blossoms. The two of you sat at a booth, near the window, the cushion a welcomed feeling after exorcising a curse. It was silent as you watched the city life bustle underneath the clear sky, drowning in the ambient noise of restaurant chatter.

Drowning in how you felt his eyes watched everything that you did. Every tap of your finger, to how he was ready to ask you huh, after your lips would move. In the silence, he noticed that one cheek was slightly larger than the other resulting from the mission, a scar forming on the other. He noticed how the sun turned your eyes into pools, trapping him in something that he could not understand, but it felt like he had always seemed to miss it.

“Do you have plans for the break?” He asked you, causing you to look up from your ramen.

You focused your attention back outside, looking at the families as you swirled your noodles, you just shook your head, causing Nanami to mentally facepalm as he remembered how your family pretty much dropped you off in a new country, not communicating with you. He thought back to when he found you in a hidden corner at the school, crying at the isolation caused by your parents. Lucky for him, you haven’t left his side since, forming a trio with him and Haibara.

“Just staying at school,” you smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes, “What about you?”

“We have an extra room,” he said without realizing, “You can stay with us, I can’t imagine you being alone for all of the break.”

“Seriously?” You asked, and he nodded, not knowing that he was planting the seeds for something that grew beyond the reach of both of you.

Before he could answer, a loud thud on the window next to the two of you caused you to laugh and him to roll his eyes. Gojo’s face was pressed against the window, his blue eyes animatedly moving back and forth as he mouthed “found you.” Geto called over Shoko and Haibara and your private lunch celebration became a party. But in the loudness, and in between the laughter and jokes, Nanami was the eye of the storm. Complete serenity and the two of you shared secret smiles that went unnoticed by the friends around you.

Nanami chuckled to himself at the memory as he sat in that same booth after visiting the apartments. Though he had nothing beautiful to look at, no one’s hand to hold across the table. It was just him and his thoughts, and he was feeling crushed like his lungs were ready to collapse at any given minute. He didn’t know that he was setting himself up for failure, when he opened his home to you, perhaps if he didn’t, you would be sitting across from him, poking his leg with a smile. He wouldn’t be reminiscing over the same memories every year on your wedding anniversary, sitting in the same restaurant by himself.

After paying for the bill, he walked to his car, still feeling cold. He mindlessly scrolled through the messages on his phone, most of them wishing him a happy anniversary and expressing condolences. He turned off his phone, not having the energy to respond to the messages. As he looked up, he stopped, just now, he heard you. He heard your voice, clear as ever. He spun around, searching the crowd for your eyes, for your face. Just for something to tell him that you’re there, but he found nothing. He sighed, giving the crowd one last look before he went to his next destination, the place where the two of you shared your first kiss.

Nanami drove to Hitachi, the seaside park holding onto the core memories that he had made with you. He walked through the pathways that were surrounded by the flowers in their autumn bloom, remembering the nervousness of that day when he went there to propose to you. He couldn’t talk as he fell to his knees, causing you to think that he tripped. Nanami chuckled, twisting his ring as he made his way to the Ferris wheel, towering in the distance beckoning him.

He stood in line, tapping his foot on the ground, getting lost in a place between the past and present as he thought of the first time that he was on this ride, how softly you kissed him for the first time. You gave him a promise that you never should have made, and he should’ve known better than to hold you to that promise. Nanami settled into the ride, watching the people in line slowly become smaller. As the ride inched up, Nanami closed his eyes, the salty air bringing him closer to that night.

You decide to get Nanami away from the school after Haibara’s death, not being able to stand the distraught look on his face when Nanami passes Haibara’s old dorm. You didn’t go on that mission with the two of them, but you’ll never forget the fear in his voice when he called you asking for help with Haibara. He sounded like a child, each question being broken up by a desperate attempt to keep Haibara’s attention on him. Each time you said “I don’t know” the pit in your stomach grew larger, hating yourself for being so useless.

Then, when he did return with Haibara, the only way that you were useful to him was by holding him. That was all you could do, was hold him, protecting him in your arms. During Haibara’s ceremony, he was silent, with no reaction besides his hand holding yours like a prayer. He was so close to you then, before pulling away. Days filled with conversation, turned to him barely speaking a word to you, leaving you alone. Each day starts with you praying that the two of you will go on a mission so he can talk to you. But he was distancing himself, each time he looked at you his eyes lingered on you, as if you would fade away, ultimately leaving him alone.

You missed him. You missed the times when you would train together, which would turn into you watching him practice his cursed technique. Or when the two of you would study together in your dorm, which would turn into you being wrapped up in his arms, legs intertwined. In those moments, you felt safer than you ever had, feeling as if your souls were being tied together. In the low light of your dorm, he looked like an angel with a soft blush, his lips in the smallest of smiles. You missed having him near, and each night you saw him in the back of your mind, you felt the ghost of his touch.

You missed your friend.

“Let’s go,” you said walking into his dorm, “We’re leaving.”

“To where?” He turned away from his work.

“Out,” you stepped up to him, placing a finger on his lips, “And no arguing.”

The drive to the Hitachi Flower Festival was quiet besides the music that was playing low on the radio. Nanami kept his eyes on the view outside, only commenting about how the two of you would be in trouble once you got back, in which you laughed. The sound of your laughter would have made him crack, but it sounded harsh in his ears. It reminded him of Haibara, how he lost him due to his failure to protect him. He’ll never hear his laugh again, and seeing you laugh made him realize that he doesn’t want to be around when you meet the same fate.

If he distances himself now, it’ll hurt less when something happens. He tells himself that he’s protecting himself, doing it for the benefit of others, of you, if something were to happen to him, he doesn’t want you to bear the burden of guilt. He’ll die happy if you resent him, it’ll be one less person who will be affected by him. Yet, when you reach over and hold his hand, he doesn’t move it, he welcomes the calming touch.

The flowers were beautiful, a sea of baby blue. The breeze in the air created the effect of waves, as they rolled. You and Nanami kept the conversation light, only talking when you felt the need to. But what he lacked in talking, he made up for in his touch. The two of you never left each other’s side, usually walking with your arms linked together, or hand in hand, and it leaves you feeling confused and relishing in the tenderness.

Before Haibara’s death, you and Nanami were cautiously growing closer, beyond friendship. You were on the verge of asking him what those moments were, what they meant, but everything came crashing down and you didn’t, giving him the space to grieve. In the flower fields, Nanami snapped some photos of you (which he still has), and you begged some poor stranger to take pictures of the both of you (which he still also has).

During those pictures, it was the first time that he genuinely had smiled, and looking at you smile as you leaned into him, he swears that he was falling in love. But, he was so scared of losing you. You dragged Nanami to the Ferris wheel, tentatively thinking that the day was going well, he was smiling more than he ever had following the weeks of Haibara’s death.

As you sat across from him, looking at everyone and the flowers losing their shape the higher you went up, you felt your mind wander back to him, to the two of you. You felt your mind buzzing with words, and yet your mouth was unemployed. You wanted to know that you weren’t alone in your feelings, that he sees you, and desires you as you desire him. His hazel eyes were pools in the sunlight, each time his eyes made contact with yours, the air felt heavier, and you felt breathless.

As the Ferris wheel reached its peak, you felt it shudder to a sudden stop, a static-filled voice telling everyone that the ride had temporarily stopped working. You heard Nanami sigh, looking everywhere but your face, as if losing the small confidence he had to look at you. You turned your attention outside, first looking at the ride operators trying to start the ride, then to the ocean, the gentle waves rolling.

“Thank you, for today,” he whispered, “I … I needed it.”

You smiled, before getting up and sitting next to him. It was a tight squeeze, but he created more space by lifting his arm causing you to be glued to his side. In the shifting sunlight through the Ferris wheel box, his eyes were pools of honey. They seemed to have been looking past you, into your soul. In the silence, the air seemed to have come alive, breathing slowly and heavily. In the silence, you noticed everything about him. How your legs were touching, how his arm was draped over you. You felt your eyes being drawn to his face, noticing every beautiful detail. The only thing that you knew was that you wanted to hold him close, never letting him go. He’ll be safe with you. You saw him lean closer, the small space between you becoming ever more smaller. You closed your eyes, expecting his lips, when you opened them he was staring at the floor.

“I can’t,” he mumbled, “I … I don’t want to hurt you too.”

“Hurt me?” You asked, “What do you mean? You’ve never hurt me.”

“I don’t want you to end up like … like him,” he moved his hand back to his side, still not looking at you.

“I don’t want to lose you too.”

“Well,” you began, “That’s unfortunately part of the life that we were born into,” you said, slowly taking his hand, “Everyone dies, but that doesn’t mean you have to live in fear.”

You smiled, feeling your cheeks warm, “I am afraid of losing you, but I can’t stop my heart from wanting to be with you. I can’t convince my heart that I want someone else. I just want it to be the two of us.”

“But what if something happens to you, and I’m not there, or able to save you,” his voice was shaky, “I don’t know what I’ll be able to do without you.”

“That’s why we take things a day at a time,” you leaned into him, “I can’t promise that anything won’t happen to me, but I promise to be there for you, always. Let’s not have the future overwhelm the now. Overwhelm us.”

“You promise?”

“You have me, Kento, always.”

It was a sweet sensation when the two of you kissed. You loved how his hand gently held your face in place, you loved feeling his smile. His lips were soft, tasting like the candy that the two of you shared, drew you in, making you lose your breath. The somewhat sloppy kiss turned into something more passionate as you felt him deepening the kiss, leaving you breathless. You were lost in him at that moment. Lost in the way he was holding you so close, you were lost in his touch. You were lost in his kiss, which was sending your mind into a sensory overload. You were lost in him.

Before Nanami knew it, the ride was over. He looked back inside the box, and for a moment he saw you there, smiling and waving to him. Yet, when he blinked again, you were gone. Nanami looked at the sky, seeing that the sun was slowly setting, he still had places that he needed to go.Nanami found himself wandering the gardens of Jujutsu High, finding it strange how empty it was. He walked underneath the trees, noticing the autumn bloom that made the wedding day beautiful. He still has your wedding dress in his closet, along with all of your clothes. Sometimes, he pulls it out, just to get a sense of you. It’s one of the ways that he feels closer to you. He remembers how the dress looked stunning on you, hugging you perfectly.

The dress had a lace corset top that was off-shoulder. The bottom of the dress was mermaid style. You were comparable to a queen, or something more gorgeous. To Nanami, as he saw you walk down the aisle, he could’ve sworn that you were the goddess of beauty. If only he could have stopped time right there, then maybe you would still be here, instead of in his dreams.

You stood in one of the spare rooms at Jujutsu High, sitting on the windowsill overlooking the wedding down below. The students that were there slowly trickled in along with your friends from your teen years at the school. Your eyes immediately found Nanami, who was listening to an animated Gojo whose arms were flailing as he snapped pictures of everyone and everything. You smiled, opening the note that Nanami left you in the room. It was short, only a sentence, but it still caused your heart to race: only a couple of steps until forever.

Despite the nerves and the packs of gum that you have been chewing to fight the queasiness, there was an undertone of excitement and happiness. The time for you to walk down the aisle couldn’t come fast enough. You went back to the mirror, looking over yourself. Your hands ran over the dress, your fingers rubbing the lacy material, getting lost in thought. Your mind came to life with fantasies of the future: the honeymoon to Malaysia and the sun-soaked days, and then to eventually starting a family, you felt your face burn at the thought. But, waking up with Nanami the next morning, not just as your lover, but as your husband, is what excites you most, more than anything. That moment can’t arrive fast enough.

“You ready?” Gojo peeked into the room.

“Yes, but my hands are gross,” you rubbed them off on a tissue.

“You nervous,” he laughed, “You’ll be fine. He’s waiting,” Gojo offered his arm, “And once you see him, your hands will fade from your mind.”

Gojo was right, the moment your eyes locked with Nanami’s time stopped, just like when you first kissed him. You felt your legs weaken, causing you to grip Gojo’s arm even more. His face lightened up at the sight of you, shining like jewels. Looking at him in your weakened state, you realize that you never wanted to leave. Nanami took your hand, kissing it with a smile. He held your hand throughout the ceremony, sneaking glances and smiles your way which caused your heart to jump. He looked so handsome you couldn’t stop staring. You were trapped in his eyes, feeling flushed whenever you stared into them. His love was consuming you like a fever. But there was forever in his eyes, and it was an ignition.

The two of you finally faced each other, his hands wrapping around yours. You kissed his hand, your lips leaving behind a faint stain. Nanami cleared his throat, preparing to speak. At that moment, everything and everyone disappeared, it was just him and you.

“I guess I can go first,” he quietly chuckled, “Y/N, ever since I met you, I knew that getting rid of you would be impossible, and being here is a testament to that. I love you to the point of self-deprivation. I want to be the one who worships your body, I want you to fade into me, for our DNA to be intertwined. You’re all that I’ll ever want. All that I’ll ever need. I promise to protect you, to always be there.”

Once again, you were too stunned to speak, but you were floating. Feeling so radiant that you swear you could’ve outshined the sun. In his eyes, you were the only person that he could see. He is the answer to your restless heart and aching soul. Only he can put it at ease.

“Kento, your love runs through my veins, the source of my heart,” you smiled, pausing briefly because of the tears threatening to fall over, “I can’t get enough of you, you have become the air that I breathe. When you are near, the air changes, and when you’re far, I do not recognize myself.”

Your hand gently wiped away a tear that fell from his eyes, causing him to smile as he kissed your hand. You took a breath before talking again, “If my sight fails me, I will recognize you by touch alone. Kento, I will always burn for you. I promise to be your heart’s friend, its lifelong song.”

Nanami lifted the veil, revealing your precious face. He could’ve sworn that he died, you were suffocating him, and he hasn’t even kissed you yet. His lips felt like safety, causing your body to erupt in ecstasy. His lips were soft, drawing you in, causing you to lose your breath. He was holding you so close, causing you to be lost in his touch. It was you and him, and you have never felt safer.

Nanami’s heart sank, the happiness that he felt that day was destroyed hours later. He should’ve forced you to stay at the reception, locked you in a room. He should’ve kept you safe. But you insisted, as his wife, you needed to be there with him. Despite trying to force that memory out, he can’t. It’s embedded in his soul.

You played with your ring in the front seat as Nanami drove to meet up with Gojo and the others. In the silence, you were aware of everything, and how your future that was in reach, suddenly felt out of it. Nanami’s face was in a tight frown, his only smile was when his hand squeezed your leg. His smile would disappear though when you would grab his hand, staring into his eyes for some type of comfort.

But you found none, just a look of trying to keep every together. You’ve never been scared to exorcise curses, but as your relationship with Nanami grew deeper and more intimate, you felt your fear blossom. You wanted nothing more than to turn around. In the silence, you were aware of his cologne, now suffocating you. The wedding garter that you spent the whole day imagining how he would take it off, felt like it was cutting off your circulation. You got the foolish idea to pray, but something in you felt dead, an endless pit in your stomach.

“Hey,” you reached for his hand, “I need to tell you about our honeymoon,” he didn’t look at you, so you continued, “It was supposed to be a surprise, but I need to tell you-”

“Don’t,” he squeezed your hand, “Tell me after.”

“What if,” you felt the fear spread across your chest, as a truth settled over you.

“You’re going to tell me after,” he repeated as if saying it again would make it come true.

You only nodded, your mouth stuck together. The rest of the drive was done in silence until you arrived at the destination. It was a massacre of a town. A mess of bodies for the hordes of curses to feed on. You bit back your disgust, steeling your nerves. You felt Nanami quickly grab onto your waist, whispering in your ear to be safe.

The two of you began to split the difference between the curses for that area. It was effortless, your movements were graceful, your weapon driving through the curses before they even realized. You and Nanami fought side by side, his smile was small at the times when you would take his kill. You were cautiously beginning to feel optimistic. You felt enraptured by Nanami watching him move. He was beautiful, looking like a knight. As the fighting dragged on, more hordes replaced the ones that you had cut down. Your energy was waning fast, and looking at Nanami’s heaving shoulders and sluggish movements, you could tell that he was feeling the same. “Just a couple more,” you breathed. He didn’t respond, his eyes were focused on the slow horde that was moving in your direction.

You quickly turned his face in your direction, kissing softly, “Just a couple more, and we can go back to enjoying the rest of our night.”

The two of you tried to continue to stick together, but it was overwhelming. You lost him in the horde, as you desperately searched for his blonde hair. You yelled his name, but your voice was washed away by the noise. You steadied your breathing, trying to convince yourself that he was fine, he promised that everything would be fine. You stumbled through the horde, your eyes open for him, your ears only listening for him, until you found him. You don’t save him and he dies, save him and you’re out of luck, either way, your wedding night will be beyond ruin. You shouted his name again over the chaos, begging him to get up, for his arm to reach for his weapon, but he was gone. He was a vegetable, completely paralyzed, staring blankly in front of him. His eyes were hazy, clouded over, seemingly looking at everything and at nothing at the same time.

You continued to fight through the horde of curses, all while keeping an eye on him and the curse in front of him, which seemed to taunt him by walking around him, playfully pulling out its pointed tail. Every time you seem to get closer to him, another one replaces the curse that you just killed. There always seems to be more. You leaned on your katana, your breathing heavy as you counted how many were in between you and Nanami. It seemed like everything in you had been ripped out and torn apart. You couldn’t move, your legs were made of cement, but you had to move, you had to save him. You felt yourself go on autopilot, slashing through the hordes of curses just to get to him. The world faded out into nothingness, it was just you and him. You blocked the curse’s pointed tail from stabbing Nanami’s chest with your weapon, grunting from the weight of it or from your low energy. You took a protective stance, praying that he would get up soon. Just as quickly as the curse attacked you, you were meeting those attacks with your katana, each connection making your wounds scream out in protest. You knew that you could keep up, but you didn’t know for how long.

Each minor mistake of letting the curse’s spiked tail graze you as a reminder that you’re still fading. You need to find an opening, but it’s not giving you any. You grunted Nanami’s name, urging him to get up, you felt your movements getting sluggish, the curse almost bringing you to your knees multiple times. You needed to end this, to protect him at least. The air around you began to come alive, creating a low hum. The hairs on your body began to stand on end, your katana also seemed to come to life. A low glow and hum came from it, and electric tendrils fizzled in and out, covering the metal. You strengthened your stance, waiting until the curse revealed its opening to you. Then, you saw it.

The attack was supposed to kill the curse, and it did, but there was more. You drove your katana into the curse, summoning lightning as you did. The electricity that was wrapped around the blade, covered the curse when you pierced its chest, making it convulse as it shrieked, covered in the tendrils of lightning. You killed it, but you felt pain, so much pain. It was unbearable, the environment around you was void of air. You looked down to see your wedding dress slowly turn red from where your chest was impaled. Your hands weakly grasped at its tail, your hands slipping until you were able to pull it out causing more blood to fall. The world was swimming, and confusion flooded your senses. The only thing you knew was that you wanted to be in his arms. He caught you before you fell, and he was lost, hopelessness crashing down on him. He whispered your name, pulling out his handkerchief and pressing it against your wound. He hated the haziness in your eyes, how weakly your hand held his.

He should have been able to fight. He hated himself, he hated the mobility of his limbs, how he was able to move when it didn’t matter. The handkerchief was a useless tool, his hand was covered in your blood instantly. All he could smell, all he could see was your blood. He couldn’t talk, every promise of your well-being got caught in his throat. He was losing you after he just got you. He picked you up, shielding you as he began to go back to the car. He’ll take you to a hospital, somewhere where someone can save you because he can’t seem to do it properly. As he held you close, you were fading, slipping away slowly. The moments were rushing past you, infinity seemed closer than ever. You have to talk before you won’t be able to. You coughed, trying to breathe and form words, but he hushed you, telling you to not waste any of your much-needed energy. But you were fading, his promises of tomorrow were not meant for you.

“Malaysia,” your words were barely a whisper. Nanami looked down, unable to hear you over his heart. You repeated the same word, feeling everything in you drained.

“What about it?” He asked though he wasn’t focused on you. He was erratic, he could have sworn that his car was right there. He looked at trees and destruction around him, the place looking like where he had just come from. In the dark, he felt small, everything was looming over him, closing in. When it comes to you, he can never save you. When it comes to people that he loves, he can never save them.

“Our … our honeymoon,” you murmured, “It was supposed … supposed to be in Malaysia.”

You looked up, weakly smiling at him. In your eyes, he felt his heart break. In your eyes, he saw the beginning of the end. His future was brief, snuffed so easily like the flame of a candle. Nanami felt his lips quirk upwards, smiling just to mirror you, even though he felt nothing inside but crippling loneliness, he smiled just to ease your heart. He kissed you again, ignoring the breaking of his heart, this will be the last time that he will kiss you. As he kissed you, he swore that he’ll never forget you. He’ll commit everything that is of you to memory. He’ll tuck you away in his heart where the forgetfulness of time and age can’t touch you.

“I love you,” you whispered, “I’m so happy that you made me yours,” you reached out for his face, turning it towards you. You saw his smile, despite the tremble of his lips, the tears pooling in his beautiful eyes. You saw him, as if for the first time, and he looked even more handsome. Like an angel.

He dipped his head down, softly kissing your forehead, unable to move his mouth. Unable to accept that you’re leaving him. Impossibly, he could still smell your perfume, as he held you, he remembered the feeling of grabbing the lace of your dress when he kissed you earlier that day. He kissed your lips, dying at the shape of a smile on your lips.

“I love you,” he whispered back, holding you closer than ever as if that’ll give him more time with you.

But it didn’t.

-

“Try it again Shoko,” Gojo said, standing on the other side of the medical table. He was gripping the edges of the table, using his six eyes to catch a glimpse of your soul, of anything.

Nanami was sitting on the floor behind them, unable to stand, unable to be present. He was stuck. Stuck in his mind, stuck in the situation, stuck in his failure. He didn’t clean your blood off of him, in a twisted way it was the last memory that he had of you, and he didn’t want to depart from you any more than he had to. He watched them with glazed eyes, everything in the room was distant and hazy. He felt hopeless, another person who he loved was dead because of him. He looked up, and through the haze of tears and grief, he didn’t see your lifeless body, but he saw Haibara.

“We’ve been here for almost two hours, I don’t know why, but I’m having no effect,” her voice trembled.

“We aren’t leaving her, try harder Shoko,” Gojo said, looking back at Nanami. After another grueling hour, which felt like an eternity to Nanami, Shoko stopped, quickly cleaning her eyes.

“We can try again-”

“No, I’m not doing this anymore, not unless he wants me to continue,” Shoko said before sitting next to Nanami on the floor. She took his hand, finally causing him to be drawn into the present, “Do you want me to continue, or do you want her to rest?”

Nanami died twice that day. He died watching you get stabbed, and he died now, once again your life being in his clumsy hands. He hid his face, crying into his hands. His chest was in constant pain, as he was torn between letting you go and being selfish. He could never find another, you’re his other half. That alone was a good enough reason to keep you, to make Shoko keep trying to revive you. But, would you be the same? Would you still be his love, or would you just be a walking corpse, without any emotion? To live is to feel, and he knows that he can’t take away what makes you sentient.

He can never harm you, will never harm you. He values you too much. He can never stop loving you, no grave will ever shake the foundation of his love for you. You’re too entwined in his DNA, in his soul.

“Let her rest,” he whispered. Even though he knew that he did the right thing, he felt like he made a mistake. He felt responsible for your death again. And, he wept for you in totality. His cries were echoing throughout the empty room, as he cradled you. He apologized profusely and confessed his love until his voice gave way. Until his words were just cries. And when he got back to his empty home, he found the tickets for your honeymoon to Malaysia.

He burned the tickets, there was no point in going without you. But as he watched the flames consume the tickets, felt the heat on his face, he felt colder, emptier than ever.

He was drunk on the day of your funeral, he even kept a flask on him, hidden away underneath his unkempt suit. He was so drunk that Gojo had to get him out of bed, had to force him to get ready. Nanami didn’t stop drinking that day, he had to make sure that he didn’t feel anything, and that he wouldn’t dwell on the fact that the funeral was happening because of his decision. The decision that he constantly thinks about, floating between uneasy peace and regret. He keeps thinking what if, and it drives him insane. He wasn’t able to talk at your funeral. The words that he had written were blurred, forming together. He couldn’t breathe up there, everything was too loud and he just wanted to take you and hide. Each time he looked at you, it felt as if a noose was around his neck. Instead of talking, he stepped away from the podium, looking at you and he felt himself automatically stumble towards you, falling to his knees. His tears staining your clothing as he wished you would tell him that it’ll be okay.

Nanami left the garden, driving to where he could always talk to you. Nanami did his normal routine when he got to your grave. He moved away any dead leaves and picked up any trash that may have flown over to your grave. He dusted off the stray dirt, before lighting a candle. It was rose-scented, drowning him in your presence. For a moment he thought that he felt the soft touch of your lips on him, and heard your laughter in the breeze. He didn’t know what was in the air today, but he felt closer to you as if he’d run into you at any moment. He then went over what he did that day, talking quietly to not disturb the other people who were visiting their loved ones. As he talked, he felt himself pausing at certain points, imagining your laugh or comment. Nanami then got situated, pulling out a book to read. This is how he would end his anniversary, sitting by your grave. He could spend hours here, hell, he would live here if he could. He would do anything to not be separated from you, to see you again. That would be a gift.

Death would be a gift.

The ringing of his phone caused him to stop reading, a message that he was needed in Shibuya. He sighed, packing up his things, “Happy anniversary, love. Sorry that I can’t be here for a little bit longer. Talk to you later.” And, as he walked away he swore that he heard your voice. It was a mirror of his message, your voice whispering back see you soon.

Shibuya Incident after Jogo:

He walked along the shore, taking in the sea breeze, and listening to the trees rustle lightly. Overhead, birds dotted the sky, even diving into the water to catch their prey. Nanami knew the place immediately, seeing this beach a million times on your computer when you thought that he wasn’t looking or paying attention to you. Then, he immediately knew where he was because of your last words to him, revealing the location of the honeymoon. A beach house that was free from curses, free from reality.

It was going to be a beach house dedicated to loving you, which Nanami had all planned out. He continued to walk along the shoreline, getting lost in the area of infinity, where the sea meets the sky, getting lost in his thoughts of you. The hole that you created felt larger than ever in this place, his soul seemed to ache with fervor as if signaling that you too were in this place.

He had always planned on visiting here more than once, maybe even starting a family tradition, he chuckled to himself imagining you holding his child’s hands at the water’s edge, pointing in the distance talking about the birds trying to get the fish. He could imagine how beautiful you would look, with your skin kissed by the sun, and your sundress bunched up so it wouldn’t get wet. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his wallet, opening it to the picture of you. He pulled out his ring from his pocket, turning it over in his hand, the once feeling of pride being overwhelmed by pain. He needs you by his side, it’s been too long since he felt your arms, your kiss, hearing you call him Nami.

“I just want to hold you,” he whispered, kissing his ring, “To never lose you again.”

He kept on walking along the shore, humming to himself when he saw someone kneeling at the edge as if looking for gold. He didn’t know who this person was, but he couldn’t stop his feet from taking him in that direction, as if he were stuck in this person’s gravitational pull. Drawn to them like the sea to the shore.

~

Nanami slashed through the horde of curses, not thinking, just fighting. He was tired, so tired of the fighting. He wasn’t even himself, he felt out of his body, watching himself continue to fight as if he were possessed by another being. His mind was torn in half, being in two different places. He wanted, no needed to focus on saving the others, breaking down the barriers to allow none sorcerers to escape.

But he kept on slipping to the beach, to the mysterious person standing in the water. Slowly, the curses disappeared again and he was on the beach, able to breathe again and his body free from pain. He saw that the mysterious person was a woman, her face covered by a sun hat, the red bow matching her sundress. He quietly watched her run her hands through the sand, noticing that she had a sand dollar in her lap.

“Excuse me,” he said, “Do you know where we are?”

“Nanami?”

~

There he saw you, in the horde of curses. Looking just as beautiful as you were when he last saw you. You turned to look at him, smiling, ignoring the curses around you, and he was stuck, dead to everything and everyone. All he could see was you, impossibly close, beckoning him. Moonstruck, as memories of you flooded his heart, caused him to drop his weapon, and stumble to you. He stumbled to the place where his mind could focus on, he didn’t sense Mahito, all he sensed was you. Your perfume, your soft touch, it was all you.

~

She turned to face him and he fell to his knees, crying, though not from sadness. His mind couldn’t comprehend what he was feeling, who he was seeing, who he was holding. You were immediately swept into his arms as he fell over with a splash. He held you against him as he nuzzled your neck, warmth spreading over you feeling his lips graze desperately against your skin. You fell to pieces staring into his eyes, you felt as if you were free falling into hues of safety and love. He pressed his lips against yours, tentatively at first, as if you would disappear if he kissed any harder. But you didn’t slip from his hands, you stayed, and he still couldn’t understand what he was feeling, but he knew it was joy. That the part of him that you stole when you died was healing itself the longer he held you against him.

Seeing that you were still in his arms, he kissed you harder, softly biting your lower lip to open the kiss, and he missed your lips against his. He kissed you as if you were time itself, trying to barter for more moments. He felt that he could finally breathe again after years of being devoid of you. Your lips were the oxygen that he needed, and each time you pulled away to breathe, his lips would chase you, pulling you back. He couldn’t get enough of you, mumbling apologies each time he nipped on your skin.

“Kento,” you murmured, “Kento,” you said again, holding his face, “I wasn’t expecting you to be here, so soon,” you felt your face drop a little bit.

He smiled, it was small and rueful, as he leaned into your touch. You moved his hair from his face, immediately thinking of the time when he had one bang to the side of his face, secretly you rejoiced when he changed his hairstyle because it revealed more of his handsome face. You smiled once again, leaning into him causing your noses to touch lightly. You then kissed him softly, feeling him smile as he said, “Well, you left me first.”

“Not fair,” you kissed him again, “I saved your ass, remember?”

You didn’t hear him laugh, he just stared, gently touching your face as if you’re fine China. You asked him what was wrong, and he shook his head, dipping down to kiss you again. You breathed him in, trying to catch up on all the missed time when you weren’t able to smell his cologne.

“What’s wrong, Nami?” You asked again.

He smiled, “You look even more beautiful than the day that I lost you.”

“And you, even more handsome,” you kissed him again, “But we’re here now, together. We have an eternity to admire each other, to love each other.”

Nanami nodded, still unable to talk or believe that he was there. That he’s talking to you, holding you again. But it’s real, you’re real, and he has never been happier. You took his hand, beginning to walk, to where Nanami didn’t care, he’s holding your hand, and that’s all that matters. Just the two of you again, and he felt just as moonstruck when he first saw you.

“There’s someone else here,” you smiled.

Before he could form a question, Nanami was tackled by Haibara, causing you to laugh. Once again Nanami was dumbfounded, nothing but tears and happiness flowing through him. He’s reunited with the people that he loves, and he doesn’t have to worry about them leaving him or him leaving them. As Haibara joked about Nanami being an old man, Nanami looked at you sharing a secret smile. And you sat next to him, kissing him on his forehead. A kiss of promise, a kiss of forever.

[stuckymonkey]

Just A Dream

Bucky Barnes

Pairing - bucky x roomate!reader

Summary - bucky has a thing for his roomate. she'll never hear the noises he makes at night to the thought of her...right?

Warnings - use of y/n, descriptions of female reader, male masturbation, wet dreams, pretty much just bucky getting off to the thought of y/n

Word Count - 1k

a/n - part 2 coming soon!! i know this was short, but i haven't really written much from Bucky's perspective. let me know how you like it!

masterlist bucky barnes

Bucky was a good man. After leaving HYDRA and being rescued by Steve, he was allowed a room on one of the luxurious floors of the Avengers Compound. Since he was technically a newbie, Steve assigned him to the floor of Ms. Y/N Y/L/N, now his roommate.

Y/N was fairly new to the team, having been there for only two years prior to the Captain. She and Bucky got along very well and were very friendly roommates. He had a nightmare, she was there with a cold glass of water and a shoulder to cry on. She felt like everything was going to shit, he was ordering takeout and putting on a rom com.

They balanced each other out and worked in perfect harmony, both on and off the field. Luckily for Bucky, Y/N was out tonight with the girls so he had the floor to himself. This meant he didn't have to be quiet while he fucked up into his fist at the thought of her, or worrying about whether she could hear him rustling the blankets through the wall that they shared.

His breathing became laboured as he stuck his flesh hand down his sweats, getting himself off to the thought of her in that revealing baby pink crop top she wore last Monday, how the tops of her perfectly round breasts were visible to his hungry eyes.

Y/N had only been gone for twenty minutes before Bucky had begun edging himself, blankets thrown at the foot of his bed, hips bucking up to meet every twist of his hand. The cool metal of his bionic fingers soothed his heavy balls as he worked himself closer to the edge.

His hands worked in tandem as his eyes squeezed shut from the pleasure. "Fuck, Y/N," He moaned, knowing she couldn't hear a single word. It didn't take long before Bucky found himself on the verge of another orgasm, as soon as he thought he might let go, he stopped everything and released his throbbing cock from his slippery hand.

Only a few more, I can take a few more. He thought to himself as he waited for the last remains of his almost-orgasm to wash away. His hair was sticking to his sweaty forehead as he prepared to go another round. His shirt had long since been discarded, thrown somewhere on his bedroom floor, showing off his slick torso.

Bucky was so lost in the idea of letting himself get the release he knew he deserved that he didn't hear his roommate's keys jingle in the door, or her shoes being kicked aside. His hands started slowly working himself up again, soft and slow he decided. His cock throbbed in his clammy hand which now had copious amounts of pre cum dripping in between his talented fingers.

James twisted and tugged at his aching length, his toes curling as he felt every past build up to this moment become almost unbearable. He whined as his eyes squeezed shut, throwing his head back on to his pillow. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he whimpered and groaned out as he worked himself to the last edge.

In his mind he was picturing Y/N's perfectly manicured nails, which she had most recently gotten re done in a seductive red. He longed for her to use her delicate hands to work his heavy cock and help him reach his orgasm. He imagined how her dainty fingers would barely fit around his girthy shaft, giving it short experimental tugs before twisting and thrusting her hand over his length like it was what she was born to do.

He worked on doing what he thought she would do, being all slow and sweet with him, taking her sweet sweet time to get used to having his length in her hand. He tugged himself slowly, maintaining a firm grip on his red cock. "Ah, please," He moaned, begging for her and only her.

He imagined how she would make him wait, just as he had done to himself before, then she would work her hands over him faster, moving her other hand to gently fondle his tight balls, squeezing in the sweetest way.

"Ahhhh," he moaned as his thumb rubbed over his leaky tip, giving his cock a few more sensual tugs before he came all over his tummy with heavy squirts. "Mmmm," The feel of hot cum over his abdomen soothed him in a way, relief and immense pleasure washed over him, letting a wave of drowsiness wash over him.

Now, Bucky was usually a very clean man. Tonight however, he didn't get the chance to clean himself up before he was tugging the blankets under his chin and dozing off into the warm abyss of his own personal dreamland.

[sylveon-official]

Huskerdust mpreg wip 3

Part 2 here!

Lucifer chews on the finger of his glove as he mumbles, looking back and forth between Angel perched on the bed and the ultrasound pictures in his hand. Charlie sits beside him in an unwavering show of support, but the nervous shake of her hand clasped in his isn’t really helping.

“Ohhh. Mmm, okay, I see. Oh boy… again?” 

“Again?” Angel and Charlie cry out, shooting worried looks at one another.

“What the fuck do you mean again? This happen often? Isn’t not being able to get knocked up supposed to be, like, divine punishment around here?!”

Of course, Angel had always considered that logic a bit backwards, especially with his profession. He had no idea how demon biology really worked, but he’d seen enough visibly pregnant Hellborns of myriad genders in his time in Hell to be secretly grateful he’d never had to worry about it. Well, until now.

“Well, yes…” Lucifer scratches the side of his cheek, gaze nervously flitting from side to side. “But, you see, from time to time we have experienced… let’s call them… little miracles, here in the Pride Circle!”

Angel scoffs, about to reply with scathing comment about the contradiction when Charlie places a steady hand on his shoulder and gently cuts in, “When is the last time this happened, Dad?”

Lucifer blows out a breath, and tuts his tongue as he counts on his fingers. “Oh, maybe 1000 years ago? Give or take. Doesn’t happen so often, could probably count the amount of times it has on two hands, but —?”

Angel groans. Lucifer or not, this guy has a way of beating around the bush that Angel sure doesn’t appreciate. 

“Come on, cut to the chase shortstack - Why?” Angel asks, exasperated. 

Charlie reprimands him lightly with a gasp of his name while Lucifer zeroes in on him with a narrow glare.

“I’m going to chalk that one up to hormones, and let that one slide.” 

When Angel simply shoots him a dull look, Lucifer quickly gathers up his broken ego and carries on, this time in a more serious tone, “Listen, I wish I had an answer for you kid, but… I’ve never really been able to figure it out myself.”

Angel quickly deflates, sudden heat building up behind his eyes again. Great. Not only is he the first pregnant Sinner Demon in a Millenia, but he doesn’t even get an explanation?

Apparently sensing his downturn in mood, Charlie squeezes Angel’s hand and pries further, “Dad, if this has happened more than once, there has to be something you know. Even a just a theory?”

Lucifer hesitates, fiddling with his cane. “Well… there is one I’ve considered, but… don’t put too much stock into it,” he explains defensively, and Angel looks back up at him, tentatively intrigued.

“So, you know how conception happens… up there, right?” Lucifer cups his hand around his mouth and whispers conspiratorially.

Angel furrows his brows. “No, how the fuck should I-”

“Oh, um!” Charlie cuts in, her own brow furrowed in thought. “Something about ‘built-in’ birth control, right? You and your partner will only conceive if it’s something you both long for. So romantic!” She swoons, pressing her cheek against Angel’s shoulder. She quickly rights herself to add to her father’s assessment, “So if that’s how it works with Redeemed Souls, then maybe… maybe it doesn’t matter whether you’re in Heaven or Hell, since now we know that’s a total crapshoot… maybe it has to do with the goodness inside of the soul itself!”

Angel’s eyes narrow as he parses the words in his head, refusing to acknowledge the latter half of Charlie’s rambling. 

“So lemme get this straight… you’re tellin’ me, this is literally some ‘when two people love each other very much’ kinda bull shit?! Who the fuck would I—” 

Angel’s voice gets stuck in his throat as a very clear image of of the potential culprit poofs into his mind's eye. 

Luckily, Lucifer and Charlie take his short-circuiting as general shock. Charlie coos and pulls him close while Lucifer backtracks, “Like I said, it’s just a theory - I’ve got no proof to back it up. For all I know, this is the Big Whatever Upstairs’ way of fuckin’ with us—”

Angel stands up, ignoring the way Lucifer flinches as he towers over him and Charlie face-plants onto the bed without his support.

“I gotta go,” Angel says, balling his hands up into fists, nails digging into his palms uncomfortably. 

He swipes the photos from off of his desk, throws open the door and briskly walks down the hallway, Charlie’s worried shouts falling on deaf ears.

He takes the stairs to the lobby two by two, picking up his pace so he doesn’t lose his nerve by the time he reaches his destination. 

When he stalks up to the bar, heart pounding and out of breath, Husk simply glances up from the glass he’s polishing and plasters on a teasing, lopsided grin, just like he's done every time Angel has stormed up to his bar at any and all hours of the day and night. 

Husk cocks his head and lifts a brow, the deep timbre vibrating across the walls, “Wanna talk about it, Legs?”

Angel’s heart thumps and his cheeks flood with heat.

“Fuck.”

[will80sbyers]

STRANGER THINGS 5 PRODUCTION MASTERPOST

Links to 001 and 002 and 004

Part 003:

April 10 / 2024

They were filming at the Hawkins school again

April 11 / 2024

Filming in a new location & again

April 12 / 2024

New pictures around the mansion and of the van ( Joyce is driving it ) and Steve's car with the antenna + the radio station

Hints that the song Boys don't cry by The Cure is being used in s5 ? Or maybe Will is there on set?

New pictures of the mansion

New post from Ross Duffer - they are completing the writing of the last episode

April 13 / 2024

Shawn Levy will direct one of the last episodes but not the finale

New picture of Will on the roof of one of the buildings at the radio station, during the night - he seems to have the same shirt he had when he was at the mansion

My speculation about this scene

New pictures from the radio station

April 14 / 2024

New pictures from almost inside the mansion, the extra/standins are involved

Linda Hamilton's character will be in the first episode of season 5

April 15 / 2024

New video of the mansion during filming and pictures, it seems there's an action scene, ( maybe Joyce brings down the pole with her car while she speeds ??? )

I slowed down the video and I think those are Jonathan and Nancy's doubles

More screenshots of Joyce and Jonathan's doubles & maybe Nancy's

Ted Wheeler's actor talks about Ted in s5

April 17 / 2024

The St official Instagram channel posts pictures from the set, a picture of Mike that seems to have the frame broken, with two records under it of The swiss family Robinson and Treasure Island + some VHS movies in Mike's basement, a picture of all the bikes they are using, a picturw of Hawkins map and a walkie talkie + someone of the crew inside the Radio station bunker

April 18 / 2024

One of the writers talks about Season 5 in a podcast

April 19 / 2024

New pictures from the Hawkins memorial hospital

The picture of the person that's injured on their leg was taken inside the hospital

April 20 / 2024

Pictures from inside Hawkins lab after the crew left and removed the vines

Pictures of downtown Hawkins

April 22 / 2024

Video from a youtuber that went to look in various locations of filming

Pictures from that video

The production is painting the Creel house so maybe we'll have flashbacks there again

There's rumours that Holly has been recasted with the actress Nell Fisher, Holly will have a more active role and has even a stunt actor

April was probably the audition for Holly with a fake name

My interpretation of the possible timeline from what we have now from all the leaks

April 23 / 2024

The Instagram channel posts a video of the crew transporting vines of the upside down

They are filming at Hawkins school but they will go back to the radio station

April 25 / 2024

The possible Episode titles of season 5!! (Not 100% confirmed because they have fake names sometimes) Ep. 2 is possibly called The vanishing of _____ Wheeler, I think that if this is a real name for the episode then it's Holly because she's been recasted and has a action scenes

They were filming at the radio station for night shoots with action

April 26/ 2024

They were filming at the radio station

Pictures from the set: 1 / 2

The Instagram Channel posts a video of the make up crew having fun and in the background it looks like they have wigs that may be for flashbacks to 1986 at rink o mania

A video of a recording of the night shoots (probably from the 25th of April ) with someone (they say it was Will - but it could also sound like Jonathan or Dustin) screaming at someone else ( they say Steve, but it could be Mike ) to Run!!!! - seems like they are being attacked

Another video

Speculation + a new monster being spotted ?

April 28 / 2024

Maya(Robin) talks about Robin in season 5, she will have a mentor relationship with one of the younger kids etc

Video of Maya saying he'll have interactions with new people in s5 and mentoring one of the kids (Will)

April 29 / 2024

The ST channel on iG posts a video of Max on set, dressed in her hospital gown

Tate100t posts pictures from the Hawkins high ST location

April 30 / 2024

We get 100% confirmation that part of season 5 will be set in 1997 from this prop fount on set from people that broke in the hospital set

Pictures from inside the hospital set

Video from inside the hospital set

Second video from the hospital set

Screenshots from the video

May 2 / 2024

They are preparing the Creel house set and there's a big mirror in it

May 4 / 2024

Pictures from the farm set

BIG (POSSIBLE) SPOILER FOR THE PLOT OF SEASON 5 READ AT YOUR OWN RISK - A character gets hurt - the spoiler MAY be fake but idk

May 8 / 2024

TateBrookins7 on twitter posts pictures and a video of (possibly) Joyce on the farm set

Tate posts pictures from inside the Hawkins high school set

Other pictures from the set, maybe a new house for the Byers?

May 11 / 2024

Filming at the Hawkins downtown set

May 12 / 2024

ST channel on ig post a picture of Joyce's set chair lmao

Random pics of the blue wsqk van and the creel house plus UD pictures (?)

New pics from the Hawkins high school always from Tate

May 13 / 2023

People that broke in the school set found a backpack that had a patch from 1988

Video of it

Tate's video of the school

What I found interesting from the video

Video of Joyce(?) walking and maybe Will (?) on the farm set

Steve was inside the radio station set in the first episode

May 14 / 2024

Various news from production, maybe they are making a documentary about st5

May 15 / 2024

Casting is looking for people experts in hematology to play nurses, may be connected to a blood infection that may be spreading from the UD

Extras filming at the school + military

May 17 / 2024

Ross posts a FIRST LOOK AT JONATHAN BYERS, plus Nancy and Steve + Robin at the farm set + that random new character called Derek that's supposedly a 10yo child with the colorful sweater, the shoe picture it's him, but the person in the background is a double for the real actor - transformers stuff, GIjoe stuff, WSQK van, pictures from ep. 4 when Nancy and Steve and Dustin etc end up in the UD somehow

UpsideDownPictures on ig posts pics of the writers in a place that looks like it could be part of the Tunnels from s2 or new tunnels

May 20 / 2024

Tate posts new pics from the Hospital set

May 21 / 2024

ST channel on ig posts this and I think at this point a Will & Robin interaction is confirmed

Maya leaks part of the script and some people online have posted their ''deciphering'' of it:

version one

version two

in any case, Mike and Robin interaction is confirmed, tunnels are involved!

May 22 / 2024

Hawkinsfamilyphoto leak video of the set, a battle is going on

May 23 / 2024

New set of a church is being used for something + they are making the Creel playground again probably for either flashbacks or visions

The UD is taking over Hawkins maybe?

Next aka part 004

Go back to Part 001 / 002

[traveler-at-heart]

What we were

Chapter 2 

A/N: Background into the What we were story. Mentions of cheating, character death.

PS I didn’t mean to make you all hate Natasha 😭 I’ve just had this story for a long time in my mind and wanted to write it. Baby’s been through it and I promise in other chapters she’ll be better if that makes sense lol.

Six Months Earlier

It was a warm spring day. Flowers were blooming. In no time, grass would grow back to cover the grave.

As Clint’s coffin was lowered to the ground, it felt like time had stopped, or it had been altered.

You were all pretty much retired. The Avengers were a thing of the past.

So why was he on that mission with Kate Bishop?

Carol, still grieving over Maria, only sent flowers.

Natasha was away from everyone else. No one could approach her, not even you. She’d only talk to Anya or Laura.

It felt like she was punishing the team. 

You are all to blame.

Natasha almost threw Kate across the room the minute she tried to apologize.

That was the first wedge between her and Yelena.

She ignored everyone’s disapproving stares as well. And you knew what that distance meant.

Nothing and no one would get in her way to avenge Clint.

You were scared.

And rightfully so.

Natasha didn’t sleep, barely ate and simply stopped being present in your lives.

You heard her scoff and protest everytime you brought it up.

Laura is raising three kids on her own. And you think you have it hard?

One day, you begged her to come with you to therapy.

It could be good for us.

She agreed, if only to shut you up. Natasha never made it to that first session, nor did she apologize for her absence.

For the first time in your life, you could actually picture what it was like in the Red Room.

No feelings, no humanity.

Just a mission.

Before summer break, you asked Yelena to organize a family trip to celebrate Anya’s birthday.

Maybe Natasha could speak to Alexei or Melina. Maybe they’d understand.

Natasha refused.

“It’s for your daughter’s birthday,” you pleaded.

“We’ll do something else. Just the three of us. I promise”

Because she looked ashamed for the first time in months, you believed her.

It was a lie.

Yelena flew the next week, agreeing to look after Anya until school started again.

Your plan was simple; you’d help Natasha find all the information she needed. You’d finish the mission and then go back to normal.

The day after Yelena and Anya left, you went back to the Compound.

That’s where your wife was most nights, alone. Even Bucky had moved out years ago.

Still, you remembered every corner of this building.

It was your home, a long time ago.

Yours and Natasha’s.

Your first kiss, your first night together… It all happened here.

Curious about the things left in your old room, you walked over there, not even bothering to knock.

And there, you found Carol putting on a shirt and shorts, while Natasha walked out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel.

“Shit” her skin paled the second you locked eyes. “Y/N, please”

The room was spinning, you couldn’t breathe and you were certain your heart would explode any minute now.

Natasha ran behind you, pulling you by the wrist to make you turn.

She was screaming, crying, begging. All the things you had done for the last four months to keep your family in one piece.

Going to Wanda’s old room, you locked the door, barely listening to her pleads on the other side.

It was the strangest feeling in the world. Your energy was drained, as if you’d come back from a mission and were fatally wounded.

Natasha was still there when you opened the door, a couple of hours later. You couldn’t feel your face and your voice sounded foreign as you spoke.

“You have until tomorrow to move out of the house”

“Please, don’t”

You walked past her, without sparing a single glance her way.

Were you dreaming? Because you didn’t feel anything as you left the building, driving straight to Bucky’s house.

But when he opened the door and you could see how concerned he was, you finally broke down.

Your family was destroyed.

And you couldn’t save it.

/

Taglist: @wandabear, @thatonebrazilian, @canvascoloredin

[blingblong55]

Are you there? -141

part 1 is here

This is based on a request:

Reader goes missing on a mission

F!Reader, angst

R/L/N, R/N

Status: MIA

Callsign- Grim

Age: 26

Next of kin: N/A

It's been 8 weeks since you have been missing. Laswell has considered you MIA, this is after the last part of your plan hadn't worked. You were supposed to give her and only her a signal that you were still alive, this signal was suppose to occur 2 days after you had disappeared, but nothing. Now she has begun to worry, she understood why you had taken the sacrifice, but a part of her was now regretting it. Maybe if she had told Price of the risks, you'd still be around. There were so many what if's surrounding her everyday. Many emails from the team that she hadn't responded to. She knew 141 could find you, but their emotions could get the best of them and she couldn't lose another person, not under her watch.

After Price knew the injury Gaz sustained was stable and he would have a fast recovery, he and the others started to secretly plan on going back to where they last saw you. They decided to not call for backup, just so Laswell wouldn't know about this 'mission' of theirs.

Its currently T-30 before the men head out to the helipad and wait for a good old friend of them, Nikolai, he'd be the only person to know what they'd be doing, no one else. Price was a man of his word, that was for sure, so when the only person he'd let into his life as a daughter and his closest buddy was missing, he made a promise to bring you back home. Alive or dead.

When the team had marked you missing for a full week, Price walked back to his office, asking for no one to bother him. It's said that those that passed by his office heard him cry and throw things around the room. But not one person dared to check on him, not because they didn't care about him, but because they all understood who you are to him. After he had calmed down his range, he sat down, a cigar in one hand as the other caressed a portrait that had you in it.

It was you as the rookie of the team, your first week with the men. You at the time didn't know, but Price was already watching over you like a father figure. Soap had started to tell others how he had replaced Gaz with his newest best mate. Gaz, of course was upset, but once he and you made so many jokes and cried from laughing so hard, he knew why Soap was calling you his best mate, and secretly you were too Gaz's mate, a his little sister.

Ghost, although usually perceived cold, had gotten to used to Soap's bullshit, that when you came around, he grew fond of you rather quickly. He was the one that kept a picture of you, in a shit version of his mask, on his vest's pocket. No one else but you two had a matching tattoo. Which by the way was his way of knowing you two, secretly, considered the other family, something he hadn't fully enjoyed before 141.

----

The men were all now in the helicopter, making their way to hopefully you. The way there for them was rather longer than usual, maybe it was because their minds were running everywhere, or maybe they felt so anxious and scared for what they could face, which would be new to them, since in the past they had been so ready for it all.

Once they touched down, they quickly ran to the entrance of the building. After making sure no one was near or at least innocent civilians, they threw smoke grenades into the building and rushed inside.

Guns in hand as they cleared the first floor. Gaz and Soap heading to the floors below while Price and Ghost made it to the top floors. Every door they kicked, they called out for you, but after much search, they didn't find you. In the midst of finding you, they, for a second loose Gaz, only to find him sitting where he last saw you. Soap slowly approached him, Gaz looked up, he had been crying.

"I lost her, it's because of me that she isn't around." His voice low, full of regret.

"We are a team, we lost her, it's not just on you son, this happened on my watch and we will find her." Price put a hand on his shoulder, hopefully giving him some comfort. For hours and hours, they walked along the nearby village, trying to ask if they had maybe seen you. Until by some miracle, a little boy pointed to a building on the outskirts of the village.

The men, cautiously walked to it, making sure there were no active threats to them or any civilians. With much luck, they once more threw a flashing and smoke grenade, running in as soon as possible. Their guns aimed at a small group of men.

"Where is she?" Price asked the men, one oof them pointed to a room. The man had a sinister smile, grinning as Gaz and Ghost went into the room.

"She's in here!"

Price and Soap made them men get on their knees, tying them up. Nikolai, who was still waiting for them, much nearer now, called to them over radio.

"Bravo 0-6, how copy"

"This is bravo 0-6, whats the matter"

"Did you find target"

"yes, Gaz and target will go to you."

"Roger that"

Once Gaz had a steady grip of you, you two made way to the helicopter. Nikolai took you both back to base. While you were making way home, the three men stayed behind to give the men who captured you a taste of their own medicine.

For nearly 2 hours they tortured them, making them beg for mercy. And when Nikolai had informed them he had returned for them, they shot the men, killing them all and going into the helicopter. The ride back was quiet because although they were victorious, you hadn't seemed so great. According to Ghost and Gaz, it was as if you were already dead.

You had been tortured for days on end, your skin once soft, was now full of dry blood, cuts and bruises. You couldn't speak, not even a simple word came out of your mouth. The jokes that Soap would make, only had you smiling, but even that hurt to do. The machines and nurses at ever minute, panicked Price. Why were they here in your room so much?

Yes, you were injured but this many times that they had to come in was alarming. The men all took turns to take care of you. Except Gaz, no one could make him leave your room. He needed a shower? He'd shower in the one that your hospital room had. Hungry? Food would be ordered. Bored? he made sure to talk to Soap over the phone when it wasn't Soap's day to come over.

It took 2 surgeries, countless amount of medicine and many more to get you to finally recover. You were now back in your room, watching some shit show on your phone when the team knocked on your door.

Price opened the door, but didn't peak in. They were all coming back into your room. Wanting more cuddles and to watch shit shows with you as they all fought for a place in your bed, or on your couch.

"Hey kiddo, are you there?"

A/N: I hope this is the ending you guys expected:)

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Tags: @sesshomaruwaifu

[sseniita]

hero's new management

part 1 part 2

(this one is almost 3000 words sorry hehe)

The battle had lasted for hours so far. Televisions were interrupted by live updates from terrified reporters, the police surrounded the whole of downtown, and the Hero was fighting for their life. 

Supervillain had been targeting Hero for months and they had finally found them. News of Hero quitting shot the villain community by storm. The city’s shiniest and most powerful hero had left their city defenceless. Well, almost. Once Hero was out of the picture completely, City Hall was up for grabs and far, far more achievable. Almost immediately Hero had been victim to multiple attacks, but they did one thing right. They stayed hidden. The Hero dawned a scrappy new suit, dull in colour and insufficient in actually protecting the Hero but it was the best they could do without a permanent home or income. The police and military- who were usually at the Hero’s beck and call- were commanded to ignore any interactions with Hero or in between Hero and the many villains that had piled up. 

Hero was trying to get themselves back up after being shot through a wall and into an office full of cubicles and scared employees. After ensuring the civilians were safe and their wounds were bandaged they led the civilians down the building and they flew back up to meet with the Supervillain once again. 

“I’m getting bored, Supervillain. If you’re gonna ‘destroy’ me, you better do it quick before I ditch you!” the Hero yelled to the Supervillain, who was currently busy destroying some residential buildings. 

“Keep your spirit up, Hero. I’d love to smear it off your face once I get my hands around your neck!”

“Kinky.” the Hero muttered. 

Before the Hero could attack, the Supervillain hurled a car at them, sending Hero crashing again, this time into a city park. While they regained consciousness and rubbed the dirt off themselves they noticed two toddlers hiding behind a park bench quivering in fear. The Hero immediately cursed and without thinking they grabbed the two kids by the waist, hoisting them up and wincing at the new found pain on the side. They flew between the trees to try to get them to safety.  

Frantically, they looked around for a safe place to hide them. The smaller one began to cry as the older one started begging for their mother and that was all the Supervillain needed to corner the Hero. With two kids behind them and Supervillain monologuing about how long they had waited for this, the Hero panicked and began an attack. They motioned to the kids to get behind them as they finally lunged at the Supervillain and everything went black. 

The Hero awoke, with a headache and incredibly comfortable. They blinked a few times to adjust to the sunlight pouring into the room. The pleasantly decorated and cozy room. The room with exquisite taste in decoration- they recognized this room. The sheer, blue curtains, the daisy bed sheet, all things they had picked out themselves. The Hero quickly got up and once they managed to get off the bed they promptly fell to the floor, alerting a worried Villain, walking into the room carrying a silver platter with eggs, toast and orange juice.

“Hero! Geez. What part of an IV and bandages covering your body tells you to get off of the bed?” They set the tray down and attempted to help the Hero up. They were met with a swat at their hands and through tight teeth the Hero asked “Where are the kids? Supervillain? What happened?” 

The Villain gave them a pitiful stare and forced their arms through theirs to help them back on the bed. Hero accepted begrudgingly. 

“The kids are ok. They’re actually in the other room playing. We’ve located the parents and they'll be on their way shortly.” The Hero nodded. 

“Supervillain? Is the city destroyed? What happened?” They pleaded. The Villain held their hands up, as if to say slow down, it’s all ok. Just as they had many times before this whole mess. 

“Supervillain is in custody of the State. The city is -mostly- undamaged. I found you. I don’t know what you did but the Supervillain was knocked out… and so were you. I know you're technically wanted for treason so I brought you back here. Just to recap- everything is settled.” The Hero’s stare didn’t leave their lap.

“Casualties?” 

“None.” The Villain sighed appreciatively. “Thanks to you. You single handedly beat Supervillain and evacuated all civilians.” 

The Hero stood quiet for a second. They tore off the IV and began towards the door again. “I told you.” They shoved the Villain aside, rejecting their help completely. 

“Hero- wait! Let’s talk.” The Villain followed behind the Hero and they limped across the room. 

“We have nothing to talk about.” Hero sounded cold, and not only because of their weak and trembling voice. 

“Oh come on, I’ve been looking for you for months!

“Get in line.”

“Give me a chance, let me explain!”

“We have nothing to talk about!”

“Maybe we don’t, but I do.” 

“I think you’ve said enough.” 

“Well, I don’t.” Hero rolled their eyes and reached for the door. 

“There you go again. Y’know- I used to be the loud one. The one who spoke too much. When did the roles reverse?” 

“Great question! Let’s sit and talk about it! I made you breakfast.” the Villain pointed desperately at the serving platter on the bed. 

The Hero took a long look at the eggs and toast. “It’s the bare minimum of a breakfast.” The Villain exasperated, “It’s breakfast.” The Hero considered it. 

Feelings quickly began to bubble to the surface, feelings the Hero had tried their hardest to fight off. But seeing the Villain, casually dressed and smelling of burnt toast had them helpless.

“I’m angry. You can’t make me not angry.” They said, making it a point of not looking at the Villain

“I’m not asking you not to be. Although I admit I hate it.” The Hero had gotten better at masking emotions in the past few months but something about the Villain made them so desperately want to come loose, to cry, to scream. For three months the Hero had been living out of motels and dingy alleyways. Eating leftovers and a terrible amount of fast food fries. They were dirty, tired, angry, but something they didn’t let themselves feel was sad. And now, standing in front of the Villain who broke their heart- they were sad. But worst of all, they wanted to be sad. 

“Why’d you do that?” They finally asked. Pathetically, like a child asking where their parents are or a dog whining for some food. They didn’t know what they were expecting, maybe it was closure. They wanted the Villain to hammer in the last nail so Hero could close that chapter forever. 

When the Hero finally looked up, the Villain looked shattered. The Villain had expected curses, cold shoulders, even a fight. But this was so much worse. For years Villain hid behind smirks, witty comments, flirts and anything opaque enough to never, truly be seen. And perhaps that’s why the shiny hero caught their attention. They were larger than life, so tragically transparent and so regrettably brave. While nothing ever escaped the Villain- the Hero could never hold anything back. The work of hiding should have been easy, but the weight crashed on them like a ton of bricks and they finally collapsed. 

“I’m sorry.” the Villain croaked. “I’m so sorry.” The Hero stood silent holding an excruciating eye contact with the Villain. The Hero laughed incredulously. 

“What. No. No, you can’t just say that. You broke me. You finally did it. You were cruel and evil and mean. You can’t say that.” the Hero sputtered. 

“I didn’t want to be! I…” they faltered. Finding the right words took a lot. But the Hero didn’t seem to be thinking either. So even if they did embarrass themselves it’d be worth it if they got their Hero back. 

“I was scared. I saw you quit and I got scared! We- we’ve gotten so close and I had gotten careless and said so many things that should have stayed in my diary- but they didn’t and you’re so good! You are so good. And I’m not. You got to live your cushy life and people love you. You have everything and I can give you nothing. As if you wanted anything from me! I was wrong to assume but it was the only way I could think of to get you back into that life. I wish you could know how much I regretted it the moment you went away. I’ve been looking for you ever since!” The Villain ranted, they took no breaths as the Hero stared absentmindedly, tears welling up in their eyes. Villain had managed to keep their composure so far- but with fear that they might lose it they continued just as Hero opened their mouth to say something. 

“If I shot down any possibility of anything, then you could have gone back! Nothing is worth losing your prestigious seat at the top of the world! And- and I know I should have been better. I wasn’t thinking, it was all so fast and I’m a coward.” They took a breath and pushed their hair back with one hand. 

“I know the Company is a terrible place. And I know Captain is a terrible person. But in my twisted mind you were better off with them. At the very least, you were safe. With me, your reputation would have been ruined. You’d lose the city’s trust and you’d lose the one thing you love- being Hero.” The Hero held their upper lip with weakness, it was trembling and tears smeared their cheeks.

“Why do you get to decide that? What if I didn't care about that? There were some things that mattered more to me!” Hero tried to explain. “Why didn't you help me? Why send me back somewhere where you knew I hated. Somewhere I complained about time and time again?” pleaded the Hero. “I needed you.” 

The Villain didn’t know what to say. So like a venom slowly killing them, they spat out the truth. 

“You were safe there. And I couldn’t help losing you, Hero. I was so scared of losing you- even under my guidance, I would have been useless to you and I guess that scared me too. I was selfish.” They whispered to the Hero. “But regardless, I did lose you. And now you're hurt and half the city is destroyed because of me.” 

The Hero sniffled. “You said the city had minimal damage.”

“I lied- not about the kids or casualties- but I did about the city.” The Villain exasperated. 

“Oh.” the Hero sighed nonchalantly. 

They stayed silent for a moment. And it almost felt like before when silence was comforting between them, back during the nights of meeting up on rooftops, calling each other by name, knowing each other so well that fist fights turned into dances. The first time Hero appeared in the Villain’s lair with a newspaper headlined Hero and Villain spotted together they had laughed and read the article together. The second time Hero had been too shy and pretended they knew nothing, giving Villain easy access to tease the poor Hero. Years and years of a bond so strong, of being the only person the other knew so fully and honestly. Was it all a lie? Regardless, the Hero finally allowed themselves to mourn something they weren’t even sure actually existed. 

“So, it was all a lie?” 

“Ya. I’m a bad guy. We tend to lie.” they answered, timidly. 

“Yes, I know. I just didn’t think you’d lie to me. Even for something like that” 

“I would. I’m a coward, a-” The Villain confessed.

“A villain.” Hero finished. Silence. 

“How much?” Asked the Hero. The Villain perked up, raising an eyebrow. “How much of it all was a lie?” they asked, stronger this time.

The Villain shot their shot and smiled. “Well, all of…that. Um, eight years ago when I said I preferred contacts to glasses, I don’t- I just thought you wouldn’t like me with glasses. I think it was two years ago when I said I was allergic to strawberries, I actually just don’t like them, but you baked me a cake with them so I didn’t know what to say. Five years ago, when I lied and said I never read Pride and Prejudice so that you’d invite me to watch the movie-” The hero laughed, catching the Villain off guard and making them fall in love all over again. They continued.

“And everytime I said ‘I was in the area’ or anything similar. I’d go out every night with hopes I’d run into you. And in my worst days, when I said that you couldn't exist without me. The truth is, I can’t live without you.” Finally, Hero gave them a smile. 

“Promise?”

“I promise.” 

They stood silent for another minute, the dust had settled and the silence had once again become a comfort, they both relished in it. Hero was conflicted and yet ready to face her fears, it might have been childish, but Hero wanted to love the Villain almost as much as the Villain loved the Hero, they wanted to forgive the Villain so badly, but they weren’t willing to lose themself again. Before the Villain was about to start begging on their knees, Hero started, “This doesn’t change much. Villain, I’ve never loved anything. I thought maybe I did but…” 

“You thought?” Villain heartacheing whimpered. 

“I don’t think love is supposed to make me feel this way. But, I’ve never really tried to deal with my emotions, ever before. I’m willing to try, Villain. I’m starting to remember why I quit in the first place, although not entirely for you, I had hoped you’d be a part of it.” 

“I want to be-” 

“Ah-ah. Wait, let me finish.” Hero interrupted. “You made me go through three months of hell, and-” They winced at the blood beginning to seep through their bandages, Villain quickly rushed over and Hero allowed themselves to be shuffled back to the bed where they were carefully hoisted up on the bed by the Villain. “I think I need to recover.” 

“You do. You have three broken ribs” added the Villain, sympathetically. 

“Oh…” 

“Yaa… “ The Villain cringed. 

“Anyways, my point is… I really want to believe you. But it won’t be easy, but I really, really want to try.” The Hero begged, not to the Villain, but more to themselves. 

“First of all. Stop thinking on my part, I’m grown up. I can use words… Second, stop with the lies, I don’t think I could take it anymore. And third…” The Hero hesitated. “Please try. Please restore my confidence in you. I want to feel like I did when I quit.” The Hero looked down, feeling foolish and desperate. But they took that as a clue they were doing the right thing- at least that's how people in love said they felt like in the movies. 

“I want to help you. I want to be on your team, Hero. I spent a decade on you, I can spend even more trying to convince you.” The Villain smiled. “I’ll do anything to pick up where we left off.”

“Well, we gotta get there first.” the Hero reminded them.

They smiled, although insecure and uncertain, and excited and giddy, they kept smiling. “I guess I could start by reheating your eggs?” asked the Villain, tilting their head to the gross pile of eggs sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“Ya, that’d be nice.” 

The Villain rushed over with the platter towards the door, before stopping and turning to Hero, “By the way, You’re free to stay in the guestroom. However long you’d like. It's basically already yours.” The Hero could have split in half. “Ya. Thanks.” The Villain nodded and quickly went to bring some more eggs, this time when they arrived, the serving dish had french toast, a cup of coffee, freshly made eggs, cut fruits and a single rose in a tiny porcelain vase, the first of many roses to come. Except those times they meant something much, much nicer.

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pls read!! :)

I hope its good!!! its very cheesy and the villain is a simp but oh well tee hee,,, i hope u all like it! i tried to make it not easy yknow? reading week is soon so i hope to update more often to please all those who liked pt 2 lool! I also made this like super long sorri! I'll reread this in the morning to edit and stuff but i've been working on it for so long i kinda wanted to get it out hehe... also! trigger warnings,, idk how to properly label, suggestions always very welcome! thanks love u byeeeee