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Yandere Alphabet: Ren Hana

I just love that dude, mkay! He has me heart and soul! This is specifically BtD2 Ren, so yeah. Favourite route of that game! This got quite long, it´s around 6k because I thought I would try something else for this, and I´m actually quite happy how it turned out! Hilariously enough I started to write this, around January 2023 and just finished it (April 2024).

I´ll hope you will like it too, because it was already one of my favourite things to reread every once in a while! Have fun!

Ren Hana

He is insane. He hates you. He loves you. He lives only for you. He would kill you in a heartbeat. Full of contradictions he tends to be a rather mercurial character. You are the first one to know that. Did you maybe, just like me, hunt down every last line of dialogue, every last image in his route. He hides away from sight, and only catches you when he is sure, that he will be able to.

„Let´s be perfectly clear, shall we. The fox is not a little orange puppy dog with doe eyes and a waggly tail. It´s a disease-ridden wolf with the morals of a psychopath and the teeth of a great white shark.“ ~ Jeremy Clarkson

For he was truly raised, tortured and formed by a psychopath. By a sadist without any morals. And on you, this little fox will discover his sharp claws and great teeth once more.

„Beware the fox that makes the ravens fly“

Run little one, run. For you will be his prey.

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

When Ren gets it into his head to shower you with affection, it can get quite uncomfortable rather quickly, as he tends to ignore any personal boundaries you ever tried to communicate. He is intense in the way his eyes track you, and in those moments you wonder how you could ever miss the way. that he is a clear predator. And in the next moment he pounces on you with a sweet giggle to simply share his warmth with you. Sometimes when you´re eating, his body is pressed close to yours, with no way left for you, so that you could escape from him. He will hold food up to your mouth, expecting you to take it. His eyes just daring you to refuse him, and with the way his other hand plays with something in his pocket, the threat is clear. Other days he will hand you something, and only give you a small moment to appreciate his gift, before he will pounce on you, nearly bowling you ever, and only his hands behind your head saving you from a concussion, as he demands his reward. Cuddling you on the floor, as he lowly purrs into your ear, his tail wrapping around your waist.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

On some days you will come to the painful realization, that Ren is more animal, than human. Those are definitely the days, he comes back home with blood still splattered all over his face, and the sound of something being dragged in behind him. It´s those days, when he calls for you to come with a playful uncanny trill in his voice, that makes listening to it so unpleasant. It´s those days, when he rips the still bleeding, still warm corpse apart in front of you. Sometimes off-handedly offering you a piece of flesh he just tore out of what had been a living breathing person moments before. On other days you will realize, that while he is clearly brutal, he holds you dear. At least, it´s what you need to believe, when he violently goes for the throat of that guy who tried to touch you when you refused, and then thought you would be more agreeable when he shakes you around. It´s what you whisper in the sudden quiet in your mind, when Ren comes to you. Blood dripping of his fangs and claws, and tenderly holds onto your bruised wrist. He is cooing at you, and the rapidly cooling body behind him, stares at you with unseeing eyes. You try to desperately believe what you tell yourself, as Ren carefully leads you away, humming slightly to calm you back down. It´s what you need to do, because you thought you saw accusations swimming in those dead eyes.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Ren does crave your love and your companionship more than anything else. So, in order to achieve that, he will try to be kind to you, after all that could help him earn what he wants. Right? He will be kind and accommodating, and his reward will be you. Though, when he realizes, that you still reject him, he won´t hesitate to be cruel to you in return. If you´re throwing everything, that he gave you simply away, well then he doesn´t need to give it to you in the first place. In the end your companionship can simply be achieved through obedience as well, no? When it comes down to it, he will mirror you. Throw back at you what you show him first. If you are kind, he will be as well. If you are cruel, he will be cruel. An almost perfect mirror, that will throw your own attitude back at you, but so much more dangerous than you could ever be.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Ren will force his need of skinship onto you, if you want to or not. The one time, that you struggled as if trying to free yourself, you stopped out of self-preservation when his grip grew tighter and tighter, making it hard to breathe for you. Sometimes he will come to you, to simply hold your face, gently tracing it´s shape, his claws nothing but a whisper on your skin. These are the things you could tolerate. The ones you can´t are when he shushes you, more growl than calming purr, when he pulls you down the stairs towards the basement. The smell of blood, already coming over you, and you already know what will await you. You don´t kick or scream, only sob quietly, hoping that you will not make him angry. His next shush comes with him, wiping away your tears. But you shiver in fright and disgust, when you see how he licks his hand clean afterwards. Chasing the taste of your tears on his fingers. Though, this is still the lesser evil, than the dead man walking, that will await you down there.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

It would annoy you how much he talks with you, if he wasn´t the only one breaking the silence. And as long as he is chatty, he isn´t brooding either. He will talk about the most inconsequential things, throwing in stuff every once in a while that is so heartfelt, that it becomes jarring to you. You would hate how open he is with you, as if you aren´t a prisoner of his. You would maybe even react, if you didn´t knew, that he is still trying to gauge how much he can trust you with. And every time, he decides to trust you, you have to believe that this is a good thing. For your own sanity. Though you hate one specific time with a burning passion. It´s when he pulls you towards the couch, and pushes you into the pillows he already laid out. When he then stands up, to push a self-titeled disk, the ink already worn away in places, into the player. When he comes back to cuddle you, as you watch with horror living in your ribcage, how a man you never saw, but instinctively put at fault for your situation, ripping into another being with glee. When he whispers softly, about those day, when the body in the cooler, was still a man, and of all the things he did, as Ren watches you. When you wish he would just shut it all of, and he would be the only thing again, that is breaking the silence.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

The moment you try to use force against him, is also the moment you already lost. There is nothing left of the boy you knew, as the gentle cooing that haunts you in your nightmares, turns into a vicious growl, that is more fitting to belong there. You hit the ground hard, and your vision swims for a moment, till the growling suddenly become muffled. It takes a moment to pull yourself back to consciousness, and for you notice the claws sinking deeper into your shoulders, and the sharp pain, that comes from your neck, which gets so much worse, when Ren pulls back again. Blood dripping from his mouth onto your face, he gnashes his teeth at you. You don´t even scream, still numb from it all, when he pulls you down those dreaded stairs, to a place you never wish to set foot in, and yet visit time and time again. You know he will show how „kind“ he has been the whole time. He will hurt you like in those movies. But the only thing going through your mind, is the image of the pleasure he seemed to feel, when he licked your blood from his lips. Then you remember the heartless corpse downstairs. You scream.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

Ren bristles when you ask him that. He can feel how his tail bushes up, and curls around you without him consciously willing it to happen. His teeth gnash together, as he squints at you. He only stops the growl that already started up somewhere deep in his chest, when he sees you flinch away from him. He huffs instead at you, and lets himself fall relaxed back onto you. He waits patiently for you to go back to carding your fingers through his hair as you had done, before asking this, quite frankly, offensive and stupid question, before he starts purring again. He doesn´t know who he is trying to calm down at this point. He wonders, if he has forgotten to show you how much he loves and adores you. His sweet, precious thing, that stays with him, that listens to him. You, who keeps that damn ghost, that still haunts him every day away. He wonders if he should tell you, that he wants you to stay with him for forever and ever and ever. Though, that might frighten you. So he simply nuzzles you, as he purrs softly, ignoring how you flinch away from him with practice.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

You were careful. And o how careful you had to be, to not accidentally set him off. But you wanted him so badly to realize, that this was not how a relationship worked. He had mentioned time and time again, and yet you couldn´t quite believe it. And when you asked – gentle, careful, don´t anger him – he had looked at you funny, before grinning. A sly smirk, that reminded you rather suddenly, that you weren´t talking to a human. As if the ears and tails hadn´t clued you in. Though, this didn´t feel like the grin of a fox, more like a hungry wolf, as he contemplated out loud, that he was behaving rather strangely, at least to his kinds standards. After all, he was being patient and accommodating to your own behaviour till now, though, he could change if you wanted to. You shook your head, and instead thanked him. You knew he hadn´t lied.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

He whispers his vision to you in the death of the night. His quiet voice, soothing were it only makes you so afraid. He paints a picture, that makes him sink deeper into the cushions, makes him feel safe and content, while you can do nothing but watch in horror. If you were just a bit more like him, you would be sure, that your hair would be standing upright with the terror chasing down your spine. Though, what he describes isn´t so far off, what he already has with you. Have you grown this complacent, to simply give in to his every wish? He wants to lay down with you, in the sun spots inside the house, side by side, curled around each other. And your hand just burrows deeper in his hair, careful to only scratch and not pull. His vision, is already your reality.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

He knows that there is nothing for him to get jealous over. Where would you go? Who would you be able to turn to? If you ran, would you ever be able to run far enough? Or would he catch up to you before you knew it? He knows the answer to these questions. And they will never worry him, as much as you seem to worry about them. He knew he won. It´s once more proven to him, when he finds you kneeling by the door. Tears running down your face, spit slowly dabbling from your chin. Now and then a small jerk going through your body. Your eyes look vacant, as he walks past and opens the door for you. His victory only becomes more certain, when you turn away from the light, the breeze, with an anguished cry. What does he need to be jealous of?

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

His behaviour tends to closely mirror your own. He doesn´t seem to be aware of it most of time. At other points, it seems more than intentional. He repeats phrases, that you have said. His speech patterns begin to more closely resemble your own, the more time you spent with each other. Or do yours resemble his? It seems, that the two of you bleed more and more into the other, as time passed. Over time though, while you grew more and more subdued. He became louder. Where you grew into something, that cowers away. He became something, that would be impossible to miss. He mirrors you, but he plays into every extreme there is. Your melancholy becomes something loud and heart wrenching. Your happiness wraps into demented glee and shrieks of joy. Your gentle affection on his face turns into a punishing grip. Ren clings to you. He knows, that he is adapting to your personality, though where this might frighten you, it only brings him joy. He always knew, that you were the perfect fit for him. His perfect other half, and now he only got to prove it. He won´t let you go. Oh no. He never will. And why should he? With all the work he put in, to be your counterpart? He will cling to you till the end of time.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

You were bored, when he approached you. His soft voice nearly scared you half to death, when he started to talk to you. You hadn´t even heard him coming close. There was a sharp wit lacing his every word, as he waved your anxiousness away with a quiet humour twisting around his mouth. You and him talked nearly for the whole night. You were no longer bored. Drink after drink gets shared between the two of you, as dawn slowly comes around. You don´t even notice, when they start to taste funny. Maybe you simply drank too much? Your sudden tiredness is blamed on the late hour, and even when it feels like you can´t keep your eyes open any more and his smile is so full of sharp teeth. Maybe your fear was reasonable. Maybe you should have listened to that first instinctual response of absolute terror, when you noticed at first. These thoughts run slowly and languid through your mind, as he hoists you up over his shoulder, and simply walks out. No one stops him.

Mask: Are their true colours drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

There is a quiet confidence, you observe, that seems to find him in the strangest moments. His mood is quick to change. Laughter can turn into angry screams, faster than you can keep up with it most of the time. It´s no secret to you, that Ren is unstable. It´s also pretty obvious to you, that he is aware of that fact as well. Whenever he actually decides to take you outside, Good behaviour need to be rewarded dear, he has to concentrate. He can´t be too domineering over you, and so he falls back into patterns, that make him seem shy and unassuming. He knows, where those habits formed, and while he wouldn´t thank Strade for them, he still finds them useful for this. He knew what a charmer Strade was, just as he is now as well. A good trait to have, if one is like him. So he puts on the mask, that helps him to navigate the outside easily. Voice timid and shy. Never taking up more space, than he needs to. He basically vanishes into the background. It´s easy for him to watch every little move that you make. After all, you also tend to forget that he is here, whenever he gets like this.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

You don´t even know why he suddenly slams into you. Tearing you down to the ground with him. He is hovering above you, lips pulled back into a cruel snarl. Teeth gnashing and spit slowly dripping from the corners of his mouth. Right now he resembles more than ever, the violent and feral animal, that he always pretends not to be. There is the clinking of chains, as your breath only comes shortly. His teeth violently snap shut just inches from your face. When he speaks, a melodious hum, you can barely understand him, but the little you do frightens you. It freezes the blood in your veins, as you try to shake your head at him. Tears are already rolling down your face. He pats your face, then your head. His grip on the chain wrapped like a collar around your throat not loosening. He chuckles out But what a pretty star you would make. It would surely be my new favourite film. You can only cry harder, as you think of the man in cellar. You try to plead and beg with him, as he yanks you down the stairs. Your limbs kicking out in every direction, as you pull at the chain and try to stop him. The wooden steps bruise your back, and his laugh rings in your ears. When you swipe at him accidentally instead of the chain, his laughter stops. He doesn´t pay your terrified shrieking any mind, as he fished a little button from his pants pocket and presses down. You don´t really move, when he pulls at the leash again. Drool and spit slowly dribbling from your mouth, as fine tremors run through your body. You don´t even know what brought this on.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

You wake up with a groan. You definitely drank too much last night. Your head pounds, and every little movement you make makes you wince. When you finally open your eyes, you don´t recognize the room. Carefully lifting the blanket you realize that you are only half-dressed. You can´t even remember how you got here. It takes you stumbling around the room, ripping open the curtains and seeing your reflection in the barred up windows to realize that there is something on your neck. It´s bulky and heavy, and no matter how much you fiddle with it, you can´t get it off. When the door suddenly opens, you nearly scream. The boy, red hair and kind of small, seems vaguely familiar to you, lets out a surprised yelp. His smile seems kind, but when he notices you still fiddling with the collar, his expression grows dark. It´s a low Stop that! that gives you a momentarily pause, before you ignore it. The next thing you know is pain. The boy holding a remote, as he comes to a stop standing over you. He crouches down next to you, a small smile playing around his lips, as he watches you drool and shake. There is a worried crease between his eyebrow, that you can´t help but feel like it´s fake. He pats your head, with a smile, as he licks his too sharp teeth. O this is gonna be fun. I love you so much my dear!

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

You looked at his hand, as if he would bite it off, when you took it. Come here, he crooned, curling his fingers in slowly. His patience was slowly running thin. You couldn´t see it from your position, but he had started to fiddle with the remote of your shock collar. He was contemplating to just shock you into complying with his simple request, but something about the way you looked at him – shaking, scared – stopped him. His patience was rewarded when you finally reached out for him, curling your fingers around his as he helped you up from the floor. He nuzzled close into your neck, and patted your hair. Good job, darling! So good for me~, he couldn´t help a little moan slipping out with the words. He led the way to the basement door, and opened it. Walking down the steps first, he sighed as he heard how your footsteps had stopped. With just one glance over his shoulder, he knew that this time you wouldn´t come that easy. It wasn´t fear and hesitance – both very under stable to him – that stopped you this time, but stubbornness. Without even hesitating, he pressed the button on his remote. Keeping it pushed down, only giving you short breaks to let you catch your breath, he grapped you by your shirt to drag your convulsing body down the stairs with him. Dropping you down at the pole, he leaned in close If I want something, you do it!, with that he tapped you on the nose, before standing up again.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

You better hope and pray, that something else will kill you before he gets his hands on you. He stares down at the broken collar, then at his open front door. The laughter, that escapes him at this moment is strained. With a deep breath, he already knows where you went, and moves to follow you. The hunt is on. It was hard to get him to this point in your conversation, but maybe you actually got through to him. He looks at you with wet and wide eyes, before he suddenly sobs. Collapsing into your open arms, he burrows close to you. You try not to flinch, as his hands suddenly snake around your throat, but the click you hear, stuns you. We will meet each other again, right? Do this the right way again?, he asks as he gently puts the collar to the side. You can´t help yourself but to whisper a Of course! against his twitching ears. Blood covers his hands, his chest. He can feel how it already started to dry on his face, flaking off. This wasn´t supposed to happen. He didn´t intend to do this! Carefully, he pushed his hands beneath your body, to lift you up. He stumbles down the steps to the basement. It´s a bit of a fumble to get the lid open, but he finally manages it, as he lays you next to Strade. Huh. That looks almost cute. Flexing his claws, he tears open your chest cavity, and rips out your heart. As he bites into it, he gently closes your eyes, only to slide down to the floor and lean his back against the freezer. He starts to talk to you both. When he is finished, he will close the lid, and maybe watch a movie. Doesn´t he have something with you in it?

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

It´s with a spring in his step, that he carries you out of the bar. He waves off the concerns of the other patrons, whispering instead in approachable manner Drank a bit too much, you know how it can be. The rancorous laughter than follows tells him, he hit the right tone. He has to adjust you once or twice, hefting you higher up on his shoulder. The same lie becomes easier for him to tell over time. Such a good boy, one older lady comments, and he can´t help but giggle to himself. His hands only start to shake with adrenaline, after he deposited you on the bed, he had prepared for a guest. He fumbles with the collar, that he became very familiar with under Strade, before he gently clicks it around your neck. Carefully he adjusts, so that it won´t be uncomfortable for you to wear. It is with a smile, that he removes your shoes and jacket. He wonders if he should remove your jeans as well, before deciding that they must be terrible to sleep in. He hums lightly as he unbuttons them. His hands hovering over your body. Still asleep, the drugs he had put in your drink, still doing their job. He smiles, as he pulls the blanket over you. Shuts the curtain of the barred up window, and with a smile as he looks back at you, closes the door. It would have been nice, if you would have come to him, but this is perfect as well. He is giddy, as he runs down to the basement, to tell Strade about what happened today.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

He suppressed the instinctual snarl, the gnashing of his teeth, as another stranger bumped into him. Instead, he forced his lips into a kind smile. Holding tightly onto the mask, that let him seem like any other person in this bar. His skin was itching for blood and it had become such an overwhelming need to him, that he couldn´t tell any more if it was his instinct or his experience urging him to get blood to flow. He let his eyes sweep over the bar, when something suddenly drew all his attention. Your were just sitting there, looking at your drink as if it held all the answers to this world. Flinching away from every stranger, that would press themselves to close past you. A look of disgust openly on your face, when some would come to touch you in the process. It was almost cute to watch. Ren could feel his tail slowly swaying behind him, this could be a chance for him to pretend to be normal. After all, it looked like you wouldn´t even be able to tell the difference anyway. Something in him was still screaming for blood. It felt like a physical ache in his fangs and claws, and his ears twitched to take in every little sound you made, as he slowly stalked towards you. But there was something else as well. A ghost of someone – long dead, his heart gone – urging him forward with a gentle smile to reel you in. It wanted to see you cry. He shivered in delight as he imagined for a moment, what you would look like on your knees, face bloody and bruised, tears still streaking down your face, and mixing with your spit, as it dribbled down you chin and onto his old collar and your eyes wide as you looked only at him. He knew this would be fun, when he saw you flinch, when he greeted you.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

His ears perked further up, when he heard a faint sobbing coming from your room. For a moment he wondered, if he should lock the knife away, before shutting the stove off, and simply leaving it on the cutting board. Wiping his hands on a towel, he made his way to you. Gently knocking on the door frame, he announced his presence to you, as he had already made his way halfway into the room. He ignored your muffled Go away!, and sat down next to you on the bed. There, there he hushed you, as his claws gently carded through your hair. He busied himself with pulling some of the knots out, and pulling the matted parts gently apart, completely ignoring your wince or how you tried to pull away from him. When he deemed you decently groomed – as he would sometimes term it with a laugh on his face – he dropped down onto your bed next to you. Pulling you to lay on his chest, he hugged you close. He was still petting you, as he slowly dozed off. Dinner could wait for a bit longer.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

There is doubt in his heart, whenever he sees you cry. He is sure that you are his, in every shape and form that matters, but to see you cry breaks his heart every time. Maybe it would be better, when the two of you would part ways. Maybe it would be better of he could simply watch you from far away, instead if staying constantly by your side. Or maybe he should just make sure, that you stay forever with him. Heart by heart. No matter how bloody it would be. You recognize easily, that while Ren tends to be a bit overbearing, he never seems to touch you longer than he needs to. You caught him countless times staring at your mouth, only to laugh and blush when he realizes that you noticed it. His hands only ever seem to land on skin that is covered by clothing, or at least his touch never seems to demand more. It´s strange you think, idly watching how he is staring at you again slowly licking his lips, how he never acts on his desires. Almost as if he doubts himself.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

It´s when he gently kisses your forehead, as he tucks you in for the night, that you finally realize something. For all his bluster, for all the pain he causes you, he also always turns rather quickly back into a facsimile of kindness. He amps it up for you, when ever it seems that you´re playing into his delusions. You might loose yourself in them, but you have nothing else to loose any more. So you try it. And suddenly it seems that this vicious fox is at your every beg and call. You don´t ask about the basement or the screams and he never threatens to take you down there any more. You compliment his cooking and suddenly food seems something you never seem to lack. You never step into hall for the door outside, and he wants to take you on a thousand walks. You even stop fiddling with your collar and with time forget that it´s still active. He will give you everything that he can. You shall lack nothing, not even your freedom. He is of service to you. Especially now, that he can have this soft life with you, that he had always dreamt of.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Sometimes Ren watches you with such a cold calculating look in his eyes, that you can´t help but shiver. You know, that in those moments he is debating with himself. His grin sharpening, while he flexes his claws. As if he can´t quite decide if he should rip your throat out with his fangs or his claws. As if it would matter in the end. Your blood would be on his hands either way. In the end, he will relax again. He knows, just as well as you do, that there will come another opportunity for him to let go of his pent up aggression. Another misstep of you, which allows him to have a go at you, without feeling all guilty about it afterwards. You overstepping the bounds, he always lays so carefully out for you. And if you fight back, he might even get a taste of that precious blood of yours.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

He loves, loves, loves you! From the moment, he first saw you, when you so trustingly, so full of blind faith, drunk the glass he gave to you, he knew it. He knew you would be perfect for him. He wants you to be there, by his side, for the rest of your lives, and he swears to himself, that he will do whatever it takes to make sure, that he can ensure, that your paths will not lead apart. He wants you to be there so badly, that he reassures himself, that the end will surely justify the means. Though, he will still very much react to the way you treat him. He will pull get you the moon if you so much as wish for it, but he also wants to make you aware, that all of this doesn´t come for free. He wants his love to be reciprocated by you, and he makes it abundantly clear to you as well. Otherwise, he won´t mind training you like a wild animal to simply love him. Hey, if it works, it works, right?

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

He had already talked with you for so long, and know he was nearly shaking with excitement. The bar was quiet, nearly deserted as was the usual for The Jackalope, and he knew nobody would watch him too closely here. He waited with bathed breath for you to finally arrive, as he had finally managed to weasel the promise of a real meeting from you. The bottle of Rohypnol in his back pocket, that he tucked away, when leaving already told him how this night would go. Tonight, he would make sure, that he wouldn´t be alone any more, that the ghost would hopefully stop hounding his every step, as another person would fill this empty house once more. He just has to be patient, just has to be careful. Buy a drink, crush one or two, and then bring it back, with an innocent smile. He could do this. His eyes snapped upwards, as an angel walked in, and a sly smirk, quickly a gentle smile curved his lips, as he stood up and waved towards you. He would do this.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Ren will, if all else fails, scare you into compliance. He will hold out for as long as he can for a relationship for the two of you, like the ones in his stories. But if it all falls through, he will be satisfied with Stockholm syndrome setting in one day. And while he stills hope for that, showing kindness to you whenever he can without undermining himself, he shudders at the other options. Sometimes, not that he would ever tell you of it, he thinks about how he could break you apart. Though, he will think of what might follow in the end. He realizes rather quickly, that he would never want to see you break. He saw it too often. How only a shell it left, a hollow puppet that doesn´t respond any more. When he looks at you, he can never imagine being satisfied like that, and so he nourishes his hope, and makes kindness is weapon. He will get what he want, without breaking you. He just has to be a bit more patient.

#yandere #yandere ren hana #yandere alphabet #xreader #boyfriend to death #btd #ren hana #yandere headcanon #btd ren #ren headcanons #ren hana x reader #yandere btd

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sunkissedbedard · 4 months

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fortnight [ethan edwards x reader]

a/n: hey lovelies !!! AHH this is my first LONG fic and smut piece. please be nice, i am new to writing smut so cut your girl some slack !! i really enjoyed writing this & a big thank you to @homestylehughes for proofreading for me !!! i hope you enjoy and please remember to reblog creators works !! 🫶🏻

summary: i love you, it’s ruining my life

warnings: smut 18+: oral (m&f receiving), fingering, p in v protected sex

word count: 7.9k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

it may be an understatement to some, but you loved the back to school season. with the transition into autumn as the environment's colour palette turned from vibrant greens, to warm browns and yellows, you found yourself content as the pumpkin spice and apple pie scents cascaded through the atmosphere.

walking across the campus as the dried leaves crunched underneath you, you mindlessly took in your surroundings, observing your fellow students and seeing the excitement fall upon their faces as new friendships blossomed, and friendships rekindled after spending the last few months back to where their stories were created.

your headphones were plugged in, allowing you to enter a trance of tranquillity, finding all your worries in the world disappear into an abyss. you were relieved, given your last semester, you were faced with an unkind welcoming that most people would question you for being so dismissive of.

ethan edwards, 5’11 defenseman for the university of michigan’s hockey team. enrolled in the same physiology class last term, the pair of you were assigned partners at the start of the semester for your final examination project, which entitled you to countless hours outside of class to be spent together. and maybe that wasn’t something you would complain about initially.

the close proximity your assignment brought upon you, may have been a blessing in disguise, but neither ethan or you were going to be the ones to admit it. the brunette had caught your eye when he entered the classroom shortly after it had begun, looking out of breath as if he had sprinted to the lecture hall. there was no denying you felt your stomach do a summersault when you found your name printed next to his, looking up and meeting his eyes as you followed from where his finger had pointed. and when you first began the foundational stages of the project, you couldn’t help but acknowledge the flutter you felt in your chest when he’d chuckle at something you said, or got caught gazing into your eyes a second too long for anyone to consider there was no chemistry.

as the project unfolded, and you began scheduling times within the week to work on the requirements, you noticed yourself more frequently checking the day and time of the week, anticipating the moment you would meet the brunette again. you mentally frowned upon yourself, he was just another one of your classmates, you questioned yourself, why was he so different than all the rest?

maybe it was the way he’d wait for you after the class had a quiz or midterm if he finished before you, or would always save you a seat in the classroom, every single class, or even when he copied his notes from the days you missed class from being sick with strep throat.

you had to convince yourself he was just another one of those hockey players. they had that natural charisma, he was used to charming the ladies, society had just instilled that hockey players drew all the attention, and there was just something so intriguing about them.

you had come to realize the impact his hockey commitment had on his academic availability was a bit heavier than you had anticipated, so when he had missed a meetup one week without informing you, he received a lengthy message about punctuality and responsibility, which earned you your favourite drink and dessert as an apology.

you knew hockey players though, you had family immersed in the community and when you began your continuing education, you made a promise to yourself to steer clear of hockey players at all cost. however, that was inevitable, considering UMich had quite the popularity surrounding the NCAA hockey team. you’d hear about the team from your roommates and classmates, about the big win from the night before, or how a player made a stylish play, it’s as though it suffocated you, which led you to think that was the reason ethan left you so entranced by his presence.

you didn’t want to like him, but your heart cried out to you when there was unexpected rain in the weather forecast, and you ended up arriving to the project meeting drenched by mother nature. ethan immediately rushed to you, asking about what had happened and if you were okay. he insisted that you take his navy blue hoodie that had a yellow “M” embroidered into the front, with his number 73 stitched into the arm. much to your dismay, he pushed past your protests, and forced you to change into the warm, dry piece of fabric, that you hated to admit smelt like the best cologne you could ever imagine.

you went home that night thinking about all the encounters you had ensued with ethan, and a tiny seed had planted in your imagination, that maybe he was acting in a way that was more than a group-project partner, more than a friend who simply looked out for you. maybe he was different, there were so many questions that raced through your mind when he appeared in your head, that you considered letting your hockey player-driven guard down.

you assumed it was nothing, but when your roommate had caught you smiling at your phone like a mischievous child, and proceeded to interrogate you at who could possibly be taking away this much of your attention, maybe ethan seemed to be more than a group partner to you, and a liking had sprouted in your heart for the hockey player.

every so often when you would catch his eye in class when the professor was in the depth of the lecture, you would smile to yourself as if one look meant a million more words. ethan was so genuine, in class and out, there was no way he couldn’t be sincere. and when he sent you a message thanking you endlessly for surprising him at his hockey game, the three red hearts that trailed along at the end of the grey text bubble made your heart pound in your chest, wanting to burst.

ethan

y/n!! there’s no way i saw you up in the stands today.. i thought you hated everything hockey?? what changed?

y/n

i was forced against my will. 😐

y/n

i’m kidding, my roommate dragged me out of the dorm and said i needed to experience one of the games, and i guess since i knew someone on the team it made it a bit more exciting to go to

ethan

oh, so when your roommate asks you it’s an immediate yes?

ethan

i’ve been asking you for months to come to one of the games!!!

y/n

allie is much more convincing than you are.. 🤷

ethan

seriously tho, it made my night to see you there. and you even got to see me score!!

y/n

it was pretty cool how you did that one move, and i saw you look up after so i knew i had some sort of part in your celebration after

ethan

hey well what do you say you come to the next game next thursday? i can bring one of my jerseys to our meetup on wednesday for you to wear to the game

ethan

but again, thank you so much for coming to the game y/n. it made my night seeing you there ❤️❤️❤️

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

your semester had come to an end, and ethan and you aced the project, receiving one of the highest grades in the entire class. as a ritual, your fellow students gathered for the end-of-semester party that was held at the hockey team’s shared housing unit. it was only the middle of november when your classes had ended, so you found yourself picking out a black dress that you knew accentuated your body in all the right ways, and would definitely catch the attention of some.

your friends and you entered the house that held the hockey team, being welcomed to the loud, vibrating sound of music playing all over the inside, the smell of sweat from nerves and dancing, and suddenly becoming aware of how sticky your shoes felt against the hardwood floor as you stepped farther in.

your roommate allie had found herself reconnecting with another one of her friends from her classes, while your other friend, taylor had already ventured to find the nearest source of alcohol. you scanned the layout before you, seeing the stairs on the left that would lead to the frat houses’ bedrooms, and to your right was the living room where the furniture was pushed to the perimeter of the room to make a makeshift dance floor, while also giving seating for couples and drunk college students to make out, seeing a couple heavily entranced by each other’s mouths while the girl straddled the guy’s lap, you let out a breath, having this be a reminder of why you hated highschool and college parties.

there was really nothing entertaining about walking in to an occupied bathroom unbeknownst to you because the random strangers were too concerned with where each other’s hands and lips were, or how you had to hyperfixate on the drink in your hand, not knowing who or what could be around you.

you walked down the hallway, sliding between bodies, mumbling an “excuse me” and placing a soft hand on the backs or shoulders of the students you were passing by. you had turned the corner to which revealed the kitchen you had been searching for to mix yourself a drink, but rather than excitement unfolding, you were hit with a wind so cold and frigid, you almost stumbled back on your feet.

right before you was the infamous brunette, ethan edwards, leaning forward towards a short unknown figure, having each of his arms on either side of her body, almost trapping her into his embrace.

you didn’t know why it felt like there was no air to breath anymore, why it felt like your throat was closing up, or why it felt like you were choking on your own throat. you didn’t know why you felt your hands numb or why your stomach dropped rather than somersaulting. you blinked, trying to clear your vision at the sight before you, and you shook your head at yourself, not only because you couldn’t comprehend the sight before you, but also because you knew it didn’t matter that ethan was consumed by the unknown girl. you weren’t talking in that type of way, you weren’t pursuing him, and you most certainly didn’t like him, so why did it matter?

you knew you were in over your head and you felt heat fill in your cheeks in embarrassment at yourself for thinking any of the things ethan had done or said to you were sincere, or that he actually meant any of it.

to him, you were just another girl that was at his feet giving him attention, another stack on his shoulder to feed his ego, another notch on his belt. you knew it was too good to be true. how could he be any different than all the other hockey players, you just hadn’t seen it coming, being blinded by the thought that maybe this one would prove you wrong.

you were ashamed, feeling the ache of your heart, heat rushing through your body and the euphoric feeling spreading to the tips of your fingers as it felt like you dissociated from your own self, watching from a bird’s eye view at what unfolded before you.

you swallow the lump in your throat and blink heavily to avoid any tears spilling from your eyes as you turned to your left to walk around the far side of the kitchen counter. you had found taylor, drink in hand, who was mingling with a girl she had met a few weeks into the semester. you wiped a bright, cheerful expression on your face approaching your blonde friend, who smiled brightly as she opened an arm to you and pulled you into her side.

“y/n! this is chloe, we were just talking about how allie and i had finally convinced you to go to that one hockey game back two weeks ago, she was there, literally right near us and i totally missed her!” taylor exclaimed as she smiled back towards chloe who was leaning against the white kitchen cabinets. you gave her a polite, small smile which she returned, but it was hard to focus with the loud, indistinct voices that echoed throughout the house, and the evident tension in the room as you heard the giggles from the unknown girl below ethan, fighting the urge to look over at the pair.

as they immersed themselves back into their previous conversation, you stood beside the two girls before excusing yourself to prepare a drink. if you were going to have to manage seeing ethan and another random girl mesmerised by his charm, you would need to have some alcohol in your system to make it more tolerable.

you grabbed a red solo cup from the edge of the island that stood in the middle of the kitchen, and reached for the bottle of spiced rum, adding the liquor into your cup a bit over what a normal amount would be for a cocktail. you shrugged to yourself, as you eyed the amount of alcohol entering your cup, before you set the glass down and begin to walk towards the fridge quickly stopping in your tracks when you were reminded by the sight of the obstacle you would have to avoid in order to make your drink less of a concern to if you were going to down it immediately.

the unknown brunette was now sitting on the counter with her legs widened enough for ethan to stand between them, his hand clearly on her waist, gripping her sides which you knew would cause a flutter in the girl’s stomach.

you hesitantly inhale, wanting to make your manoeuver as nonchalant as possible, it would only be easier to forget about ethan being a close distance from you if you didn’t bring attention to yourself, so you emerge towards the fridge, keeping your eyes locked at the metal appliance, and reach to open the right door when a voice stops you in your tracks.

”y/n?” of fucking course. just like everything else with ethan and the timing of how things play out, of course he had to notice you while the unknown girl had her arms draped around his neck. “no way you’re here! what are you doing here?” as he questioned you, you watched with a blank stare as he turned to have his body facing you, and in doing so, let the girl’s arms fall from his shoulders. his eyebrows were raised in surprise and his mouth was held open in excitement, but his response is what shocked you the most, given he seemed to be pretty occupied before. he raised his arms out as if he were to go in for a hug before you shut down his opportunity to brush over what his actions unknowingly did to you.

“well what would a student who just finished her exams be doing at a frat party?” you asked dryly. ethan’s head jolted back quickly in confusion at your rhetorical question, surprised by your shift in demeanour.

“i, uh- well, y’know, i’m just surprised to see you, i didn’t know this was your type of scene,” ethan trailed off, stumbling over his words. you hummed in response, giving him a tight-lipped smile with a small squint of your eyes before reaching into the fridge to grab a can of coke to add to your drink that was waiting for you.

you hummed with a tight lipped smile written on your face, “i’ll see you around ethan,” turning your body away from him and leaving him in a trance.

closing the fridge door and pivoting on your feet to walk back in the direction of where your drink was, you made sure to keep your eyes in a forward stare, knowing any slight aversion of your eyes would cause the tears that had been pooling to spill. you begin to fill your red cup with the soda, keeping your head down as you felt your emotions rush over you. the sight of ethan close to another girl only caused your stomach to tighten in a knot, resulting in you taking a long swig of your drink, tasting the kick of the extra alcohol fall down your throat.

this was going to be a long night.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

a few hours had passed and the drinks had become significantly more easy to finish in a short amount of time, and you had found yourself conversing with a few students you had recognized from your classes from the previous semester, laughing drunkenly over jokes being made and other remarks, and as you gossiped over your professors, each time your drink had emptied, another was placed in your hand without you having to leave where you were seated. needless to say, when you quietly excused yourself to the washroom, having broken your seal about 30 minutes prior, you felt the buzz erupt through your body as you walked to find the nearest bathroom.

your head was spinning lightly, so you balanced a hand on the wall as you tried entering the main floor’s bathroom, only to be blocked by the noises you would only assume would be coming from a frat house’s bathroom, so. eager to release the pressure that was filling your bladder, you wandered back towards the stairs that led to the second floor that displayed all of the bedrooms. following what you hoped to be the right path to the bathroom upstairs, you find yourself leaned up against the wall opposite of the closed door, waiting for vacancy.

taking in your surroundings while you waited, you squinted your eyes to suppress the drunken state you were in and noticed the majority of the doors to the bedrooms were opened, with one at the end on the left being closed. as your gaze lingered down the hallway, you heard the lock of the bathroom unlatch, to which you pushed yourself off of the wall you were leaned against.

and as if your night couldn’t have gotten worse, you stood opposite to the tall, muscular figure, who you wanted no more than to slap across the face for the way he made you feel, whether it was unbeknownst to him or not.

you rolled your eyes as you watched his expression lighten over his face at the sight of you, and you crossed your arms over your chest, waiting impatiently to enter the room you came for initially.

“y/n! there you are! you disappeared after i saw you in the kitchen- you alright? you seemed kind of off when i talked to you,” ethan spoke in excitement, clearly the alcohol was buzzing through his system as it was yours, causing his bubbly, and overly chipper demeanour.

you scoffed at his oblivious remark over your previous encounter, trying to dodge a conversation with him and attempting to sneak past his figure, only to be blocked by his reflex to stop your movement, which caused you to lightly bump into his frame. you couldn’t look him in the eye as he spoke to you, knowing that if you did, you would cave and you would forget the sight of seeing him with another girl, and melt at the knees when you held eye contact with him. it happened every time you were with him. it was as if everything around you disappeared into an abyss when you looked in his brown eyes, nothing else being as important as the way he looked at you. and you hated the way that it was an act as simple as eye contact that made your heart warm, your cheeks fill with heat and butterflies to erupt in your stomach.

ethan reached an arm up to grab onto the side of your arm, causing you to stop your attempt to pass by him, and making you avert your gaze up to where he towered over you, looking down with his infamous soft eyes. you could smell his cologne that you hated because of how much you loved it, and you bit the inside of your lip, stopping yourself from making any impulsive, drunken decisions that you knew you would regret when the alcohol had worn off.

“nothing’s wrong,” you said blankly, peaking around his body towards the empty bathroom that was calling your name. “come on, let me go, i need to pee.” you urged, shrugging your shoulders in defeat with a slight pout forming on your face. ethan had only grinned to himself without any other words being spoken and he pushed you behind him towards the bathroom as he stepped to the side, and you quickly stepped in, shutting the door behind you.

you used the washroom as you needed, but before exiting, you peered at your reflection in the vanity mirror, taking a deep breath to compose yourself as the alcohol slowly took over more of your system, making everything feel a slight bit more distorted than normal. you closed your eyes as you reached for the door handle, knowing there was a fifty-fifty chance that ethan would still be waiting on the other side, and much to your dismay, the odds weren’t in your favour as the one and only brunette hockey player was leaned up against the wall you once were standing against, locked into his phone screen as you watched him scroll mindlessly.

you sneaked past the bathroom door, veering to the side of the wall as you tried to escape another confrontation from ethan, but his awareness overruled as his arm reached out to stop you, grabbing your wrist and pulling you back towards him. his pull had been slightly stronger than it needed, so you stumbled over your feet towards him, steadying yourself by grabbing onto his biceps with both of your hands and looking up at him with an unimpressed look as you gathered yourself. maybe the extra liquor added to your drinks wasn’t the best idea after all.

“so can we talk? or are you gonna keep acting like you’re a criminal trying to escape the police,” ethan lightly chuckled, again looking down at you with the smile that you had grown to adore too much.

“i’m not avoiding you, ethan,” you argued.

ethan hummed, “i’m pretty sure you are,” he said quieter as he took a step closer to you, “just because the semester’s over, doesn’t mean we have to be.” he said, and you almost choked on your breath. your mouth had slightly opened in shock, taken aback by the words that had just fallen from his tongue.

“w-what do you mean we don’t have to be over?” you awkwardly chuckled, stumbling over your words. maybe it was the alcohol that was clouding your judgement, but you truly did not understand ethan’s intentions.

“all i’m saying is that just because the class we had is over, doesn’t mean we have to stop being friends.” he said with a shrug of his shoulders and once again, the cold air of realization hit you like a brick wall, as you processed his words. you knew you didn’t hear him correctly, you knew there was a misunderstanding, and you knew you were in over your head, yet again. you mentally frowned upon yourself at how stupid you felt in the situation, knowing you probably looked like a fool standing opposite to ethan.

“right, yeah.” you trailed, looking down towards your feet as you tried to compose yourself, knowing if you dwelled on the current situation, tears would begin to form. “look- i gotta go find my friends, we’re probably gonna head out soon anyway, i- uh, it was nice seeing you i guess. we can keep in touch too, but i know our schedules are both pretty busy.” you said looking back up at the brunette, you gave him a soft, sad smile as you tried to make it seem like your mind wasn’t racing and the utter sadness at the situation wasn’t beginning to fill your body. you turned to head back down the stairs to where the party was still going, but yet again, ethan stopped you in your tracks.

“y/n,” he repeated more sternly, and you hated how your heart ached in your chest, how you wanted nothing more than to scream at him that you were falling for him, but in doing so you hated how it made you feel, you hated how you wanted to kiss him like the world was ending and there was no tomorrow, but if you did, he’d probably turn away. all because of the stupid project that had to be such a large portion of your grade, you had slowly fallen for the boy who occupied every wednesday of your semester. “follow me,” was all ethan said as he took your hand in his, and you felt the texture of his skin beneath your own, how his hands were somewhat dry, but not overly coarse, and how they were warm and encapsulated your own.

you let ethan guide you down the hallway, as you trailed behind his large figure like you were a lost puppy. he turned the corner into one of the opened bedroom doors, and your eyes widened in shock at what you assumed entering his room meant. you had been in his room before, one of the times you had planned to work on the project and the library had been closed due to maintenance, ethan offered to have the meetup be held at his place. that was the reason you had been familiar with the layout of the house when arriving at the current party.

panic settled in as you watch him reach behind you to close the door, and your eyes followed as he walked towards his desk, silently reaching into the third drawer on the desk and pulling out what looked to be a picture. your brows pulled together in confusion as he turned back to where you stood, close to the door with your hands fiddling with each other as you anticipated what he had to show.

he reached out to pass you the print, and you met his eyes again for reassurance that it was okay to take it from him, to which he nodded in encouragement. you took it in your hands, and looked down only to see that it had been a picture of you in his team hoodie, the day that you had been rained on, with your hair wet, makeup slightly smudged. you stood opposite of him, with the hoodie engulfing your frame making you look much smaller compared to ethan’s larger frame. you smiled at the picture, but were only even further confused as to why he had it, so as you hand it back to ethan, you look up in confusion, only to see a small blush forming on his cheeks.

“i know it’s kinda creepy to just have this picture of you, but you looked so cute in my hoodie and that day we had together, was probably one of the best days i’ve had all year, maybe even the best day since i first got here.” ethan shyly explained, making your gaze soften as you watched him explain.

“yeah, i remember that day, it was one of my favourites.” you responded softly, smiling to yourself as you reminisced. but before you grew too distracted by his romantic act, you came quickly to remember how you felt when you first arrived, conflicting your feelings as you stood in ethan’s room. there was a silence that was held between you two, and you didn’t know what to say, and you knew it would probably be best if you didn’t open your mouth to speak, knowing you would most likely regret what words formed. ethan placed the picture back on his desk, before placing himself on the edge of his bed, clasping his hands together, and you stayed put where you were standing, watching him before you.

“come,” ethan gestured to the mattress beneath him, patting the spot next to him for you to sit.

“i don’t think that’s a good idea.” you responded quickly, allowing your blunt and cold facade to take over yet again. “really, i should probably go find my friends, they're gonna think i got kidnapped or something.” you awkwardly laughed. taking a step backwards closer to the door as you tried to escape,

“oh, come on,” ethan whined, throwing his head back in protest. “don’t make me come over there and make you sit on my bed.” he warned. you rolled your eyes yet again in annoyance at how easily convincing he was, and you took the few steps forward to reach his bed, and ethan scooted himself over to the side to give you more room.

“what’s up?” ethan asked quietly, the close proximity between the two of you becoming more evident as you were now sitting shoulder to shoulder in his bedroom. it intensified every thought and feeling you had run through your body. you noticed his eyes were hooded from the alcohol, his hair looked freshly washed and you could see his silver chain slightly peeking out from the collar of his crewneck hoodie. you took in his appearance slowly, before meeting his gaze that had already landed on you, looking into your eyes with a soft, alluring gaze.

“i said nothing’s wrong, ethan.” you exclaimed, letting out a breath as you grew more annoyed with his persistence. you didn’t want to let your guard down, you couldn’t. not while you were in his room, drunk, at a party.

“that’s bullshit, come on, you’ve been off since i first saw you.” ethan countered, and you then felt the weight of his hand being placed on the middle of your thigh, immediately making your breath shift into slower, more heated breaths. you looked down at the hand on your exposed leg, becoming aware that the fabric of your black dress had slowly rode up your thighs. you then met his gaze, again, as he was still maintaining eye contact with you.

“ethan,” you pushed, not wanting to continue the conversation any longer than it had already been happening, you sighed and began to stand up to leave, but you were prevented from doing so as his hand pushed against your thigh to keep you placed on his bed.

“y/n,” was all he responded.

your eyes darted to the side, contemplating whether or not you would cave, before letting go another breath, “okay, look-” you began before you stopped yourself, wanting to find the correct words to describe your feelings. if you had finally decided to have the conversation you had envisioned every night before going to bed, you wanted it to be relatively similar to the way you had planned it to be. although, you didn’t expect it to be happening at the actual moment it now was.

“fuck,” you mumbled under your breath, looking down into your lap, but was quickly guided to continue looking into ethan’s eyes by his hand that had slipped under your chin and tilted your head up. “i’m confused.” you blurted, no other words coming to mind as you looked at ethan with an expression of confusion and distraught written over your face.

ethan paused before responding, “why?”

“because of this!” you gestured between your bodies that were inches away from each other. “i come to this party against my will, because we both know i hate this type of scene, and low and behold, i come to find you invested in some random girl i’ve never seen before, with her hands all over you, and i can only assume what words were being exchanged.” you said in a single breath, your chest heaving as you explained your dilemma to the brunette in front of you.

ethan went to his open his mouth to justify his actions, but you beat him to it, “no, you don’t get to say anything,” you pointed with your index finger, “and then when all i need to do is pee, god forbid i run into you and you end up showing me a picture you’ve been hiding in your drawer and you look at me in a way that makes me feel so weird!” you rushed, your brows furrowing in your own confusion as you spoke.

“y/n, i’m lost, what are you trying to say?” ethan said softly, looking at you with his own brows stitched together in confusion.

this was it, this was the moment you’d confess your secret to the man who had occupied your brain 24/7. the one you thought of immediately when you did well on an assignment, and the one you would stand in the freezing arena every game to watch him play. the one you pictured yourself with when your friends and you gushed over the desire for a relationship. the one you searched for in a crowd of people at a school event, and the one you wanted nothing more than to be with.

“i love you, okay?” you bursted, slightly raising your voice with your face strained, “and it’s ruining my life.” you said as you ran a hand over your face to wipe away the hair that had obstructed your view, “and it killed me to find you here with another girl, and having to imagine myself going onto the next semester and not having you in my life.”

your chest continued to heave up and down, out of breath as you admitted to your internal conflict, and you searched in ethan’s eyes for a response. he was silent for a moment, his eyes darting from side to side as he collected his thoughts. you inched forward on the bed as a way to encourage him to say anything, but the longer the silence settled, the more you began to regret your sudden confession. as you went to place your head in your hands with your elbows resting on your knees, ethan’s mouth opened.

“are you drunk?” was all he asked, but given the amount of time you had spent in ethan’s room, and your body trying to compose yourself, you hadn’t felt the effects as strongly as before.

you shook your head, “if i am, drunk words are sober thoughts.” you chuckled to yourself.

“in that case, are drunk actions, sober thoughts?” he asked quieter, and you tilted your head in confusion, not being given a moment to process his words before you felt his hand reach for your jaw and lightly pull you in to meet his lips.

your mouths connected, and you inhaled sharply at the contact, melting into his touch as you adjusted yourself to face more towards his figure, you reached your arm to rest on his shoulder. ethan held your cheek in his hand, with his fingers reaching the nape of your neck to pull you in closer, and your body went weak, quickly to be supported by ethan’s free arm reaching around your back.

he pulled away, lips swollen from the contact, and his chest rising and falling rapidly. you looked up at his with doe eyes, wetting your lips without saying any words being said, and he reached back down to connect your lips again, his arm around your back sliding to your side to take hold on your waist. he pulled your body closer to him as a wordless action to adjust your position, and with your eyes closed and lips still mangled, ethan pulled you farther on the bed, and leaned your figure back to where he now hovered over your body with your back against the mattress.

he detached his lips again, breathing heavily with his chain dangling over your face, you stared up at the sight before you, “should we really be doing this?” you questioned softly, gripping his forearm with your hand.

ethan sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, “i’ve been wanting this for a while, and trust me this is not how i envisioned this happening, but i can’t hold out any longer,” he confessed, and before you can say anything in response, he delved back in, placing a kiss on your jaw near your ear, the sound of his wet mouth suctioning your skin made your entire body erupt in euphoria, and caused you to squirm underneath him. he trailed his wet, sensual kisses along your jawline as your hand found itself intertwined with his soft, brunette hair. he continued kissing down your jaw onto your neck, sucking slightly on your skin, as his arm held the weight of his body over yours. he looked up at you, with pleading eyes to adjust the strap of your dress, and without words you allowed him to move the fabric to the side, but in your own confidence, you sat up and lowered the dress to your waist, exposing your black lace bra you had worn underneath.

ethan took in the view, sighing in delight at your figure before him, and he leaned back down to continue his mission to cover every inch of your skin with wet, slow kisses. your hands found themselves interlocking behind ethan’s neck as he kissed your collarbone, and he looked up to your face with his eyes only, silently asking for permission to remove the piece of clothing that restrained your breasts. you nodded and lifted your back to allow for his hand to reach beneath you and unclasp the lingerie, freeing it from your body as he pulled it off of you. immediately his hands fell to your chest, cupping his large hands over your front and kneading your breasts as if they were dough.

your head fell back in pleasure at the contact of his mouth to your nipple, as he curled his tongue around the sensitive end. your hand tugged at his hair, arching your back in desperation for more.

ethan looked up at you yet again, and you reached forward, guiding ethan to stand on his knees, grabbing the end of his crewneck hoodie and pulling the fabric upward over his head, revealing his toned, broad figure. you mentally gawked at the sight and looked up at him as he towered over you, with your face being perfectly aligned with his waist.

you held eye contact with him as you reached for the waistband of his pants, noticing the growing bulge that began to protrude against his pants. you slipped a finger into the space between his body and the pants, gliding it along his v-line before tugging at his bottoms to expose his lower half. he had quickly stood up off of his bed to remove his pants, and while doing so, you shimmied out of your black dress, letting the clothing fall to the floor beside his bed, leaving you in nothing but the matching underwear to your top. ethan then climbed back on the bed, on his knees like prior, and you took in the sight of his bulge beneath his underwear, constraining the fabric and tauntingly wanting to be freed.

you looked up at ethan who watched your every move intensely, and then averted your gaze to the sight before you. you slowly grabbed the waistband of his boxers on each hip and pulled the fabric down, releasing his cock to be free as it sprung up, throbbing in anticipation to find a release.

your mouth practically salivated at the sight, and you instantly reached a hand to wrap around the base of his cock, feeling the warmth beneath your hand. stroking your hand twice up and down the length of ethan, you heard him groan above you, as he reached a hand to steady himself on your shoulder.

you adjust yourself beneath him, looking up to reach his eyes with your own and his bottom lip was tucked under his top row of teeth as he watched you take his cock in your mouth. you slowly wet his length and pushed your mouth farther down and closer to his stomach, until your eyes began to water, feeling the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat.

you pulled back slightly and quickened your pace as you began to bob your head along his length, ethan throwing his head back and gripping the back of your head softly in response. he held you there as he attempted to hold himself together, fighting the urge to release at that moment.

“fuck, y/n,” he breathed, holding your head closer to the rest of his body for a moment hearing the noises of your mouth taking every inch of his cock, as you slightly gagged on his member. you release him from your mouth with a small ‘pop’, and grin at ethan’s flushed face. he began to compose himself before he pushed you backwards until your head met the pillows of his bed and his face was inches away from your stomach. he maintained eye contact, which in response evoke an incline of your breath, chest heaving up and down as you grew impatient for ethan to make some sort of move to aid your frustration.

ethan looked at you with concerned eyes, in a way to silently ask you if he was allowed to continue and you eagerly nodded your head, your hips buckling upwards anticipating any sort of stimulation.

ethan flip the waistband of your underwear under his finger and dragged it over your hips and swiftly pulled the fabric off of your legs, tossing the piece to the side and focusing his attention back at the sight before him. his hands immediately found the inner space of your thighs, lightly rubbing the soft skin with his calloused hands, his tongue running over his bottom lip in hunger and desperation to delve into the lust.

“god, you’re perfect, y/n,” ethan mumbled, but before any other words were exchanged, he pushed your legs softly to the side, exposing your core and his head leaned into your body, immersing himself in you and suffocating himself with the taste of you. you moaned at the contact, your hips caving at the contact. ethan continued to stimulate your clit, his tongue lapping over the skin between your legs. your hand found his hair, tugging the brown locks in pleasure, and biting your lip to restrain yourself from making too loud of noise.

ethan moaned against your body, sending vibrations through your body, almost sending you over the edge, earning a whimper to escape from your mouth.

“oh my god, ethan,” you whined through gritted teeth as ethan held your legs down to the side with his arms and your hips bucking at the pleasure. he pulled away, the missing feeling making you crave more to put you over the edge, your legs bent up to the rest of your body as you watched ethan hold eye contact with you, reaching to his side table drawer and pulling out a condom.

you watched before you as he slipped it on, his body coming to hover on top of yours and aligning his cock with your entrance. your hands found themselves gripping onto his shoulder, and you bit your lip as ethan began to lower himself into you, the pressure causing your eyes to flutter shut. ethan went slow, no words being exchanged other than the wordless eye contact that was held between ethan and you, and when he bottomed you out, your mouth fell agape, causing ethan’s own mouth to fall open in pleasure.

his movements began slow, thrusting in and out, watching as your body responded in sync to his moments, and as it became more comfortable, ethan earning a nod from you to quicken his pace, your mouth hung open, small whimpers escaping as each thrust was complete.

ethan’s one hand remained by your head, lowering himself onto his elbow to inch closer to your face, while his other hand was placed on your hip, tightly gripping your skin as he continued to thrust harder and deeper into you.

“fuck, ethan, yes,” you moaned as he hit the right spot to cause an eruption of pleasure through your entire body, you felt the knot in your stomach begin to tighten when his hand on your hip reached between your legs to rub circles on you clit, and your moans sounded in sync with his thrusts, the sounds of two bodies erupting in pleasure filling the room.

“god, you’re so tight, y/n,” ethan moaned in response, his eyes squinting shut in concentration as he held himself together, your hands pulled at his neck, bringing his face to yours and your lips meet his, tightly interlocked as his thrusts still moved your body beneath him.

you could tell ethan was reaching his own climax, his determined thrusts becoming more and more sloppy, and his breath shaking against your lips. his fingers kept rubbing on circles on your clit, determined to bring you to orgasm, and when you adjusted your hips slightly, allowing for ethan to hit a deeper, more pleasurable spot in your body, the noises that came out of your mouth in response caused ethan to release into the condom, his own moans filling your mouth as his thrusts came to a halt and you felt the pressure hit your walls as he filled the condom with his cum. determined to bring you to your own climax, ethan’s fingers still worked their efforts on your clit, bringing his free hand to your mouth, trailing over your bottom lip, awaiting entrance.

his middle finger slipped into your mouth, and instinctively you sucked on the member, watching ethan look at you in amusement. when his finger was lubricated to his liking, he reached to your sex, running his finger along your folds to collect the wetness before pushing his finger in, immediately curling his finger towards him.

with both hands in action to put you over the edge, you raised your arms above your head in pleasure, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten even closer to being released.

“yes, ethan, just like that,” you moaned when ethan fastened his pace.

he hummed in response, “yeah? is that what you want, babe? you want to cum for me?” ethan asked softly, holding eye contact as his fingers worked magic against you. your eyes closed in pleasure, your head slightly tilting back, and when ethan slipped a second finger into your sex, and pulled his fingers in and out while maintaining curling inside, a loud moan escaped your mouth as you felt the knot come undone in your stomach, your legs shaking lightly as you rode out your orgasm.

your breath uneven, a grin erupted on both of yours and ethan’s faces, as he reached for his boxers and your matching set of undergarments, helping you put on the pieces of fabric, and quickly slipping under his covers. you follow suit, and find yourself curling up against his figure, your head resting on his chest, listening to his heightened heart rate.

ethan pressed his lips against the top of your head, “you really meant all those words from before?” he questioned, earning a giddy smile from you as you looked up to meet his gaze.

“and a thousand more.”

#ethan edwards #ethan edwards x reader #ethan edwards x y/n #ethan edwards imagine #ethan edwards fic #ethan edwards smut #umich x reader #umich fic #umich imagine #umich smut

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reverie-starlight · 6 months

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jk I watched one of my favourite keigo edits on insta and I got inspired. happy birthday 2 me 🫶🏻 (the main fic I was working on is still coming, but idk when exactly 🥹)

fem!reader, no physical descriptions. pure birthday fluff with tiny little minuscule amounts of angst sprinkled in bc. well. it’s a birthday. I’m sick for my 20th, so reader is too 😔

you wake up to the sound of squeaky bedroom door hinges and a quiet but still enthusiastic rendition of happy birthday.

barely awake but just alert enough to realize what’s going on, you smile and turn over on your side to face keigo. he walks in slowly with a large bag around his wrist and a cupcake with slightly squished frosting in his palms.

he sits on his designated side of the bed (the one closer to the door since he insists on being your hero at all hours of the day) and waits for you to sit up against the headboard before sticking a candle into the dessert and lighting it for you.

“make a wish, baby,” he says. with how dark the room still is in the early morning, his face is lit up from the soft glow of the flame. warmth settles in your stomach as you watch the flickering reflection in his eyes and you can only think of one thing worth wishing for.

please let this last forever. don’t let me mess it up.

you blow out the candle and he cheers, moving to sit right next to you against the headboard. you lean your head on his shoulder and he happily feeds you pieces of cupcake, feathers working overtime trying to catch all of the crumbs before they reach the bed.

when you finish chewing a piece, he says, “how are you feeling?”

you shrug. “okay today, I think. better than yesterday, for sure- I feel like I can breathe again.”

you don’t miss how he winces at your voice, definitely less congested than the last few days, but sounding even more rough from lack of use overnight. you try to clear your throat, but it turns into a coughing fit. “drink some water, angel, don’t strain yourself.”

the stream of water soothes the itch and you sigh in relief. keigo, not phased one bit by your sickness, kisses your cheek, your nose, and then your lips. “I’m sorry you’re sick on your birthday, sweet girl.”

you shrug and try to play off how his nicknames are affecting you so early in the morning. “it’s okay, keigo, it could be a lot worse. a cold on my birthday isn’t the end of the world.”

his eyes soften. “yeah, but I know you were feeling more hopeful about things this year… it’s not often you get like that about your birthday, so I just wish the universe was on the same wavelength as us about that.”

you look down at your lap and pick at a loose string on the comforter. he must see your lips wobbling, because he slings an arm around your shoulders and pulls you closer.

it’s quiet for a second, but soon enough you’re sniffling in his arms and he knows it’s not your cold acting up.

“it’s okay, sweetheart, let it out.”

he understands birthdays are hard for you. he’s never pried into it, but he has his suspicions.

he could push, but he knows that your issues with your own birthday are far too deep-rooted to unpack in one morning before work. he’ll save it for a later date. right now all he wants is to see you smile again, so he’ll have to distract you from your thoughts.

“baby, you deserve the whole world. you know that, right?”

you shake your head. “I don’t, though. I don’t do anything deserving of what I’ve gotten so far… I don’t work hard enough, I don’t always make the best decisions for myself, I guess I’m a good person, but I could do so much better… I’m just so average. I barely even deserve-“

you end your rant with a half-hearted gesture in no particular direction, but he gets the idea and he frowns in concern.

“me? you don’t think you deserve…me?”

guilt keeps you from meeting his gaze again and he sighs.

his angel, his baby, the love of his life. the one. he just wants to take it all away.

you take things to heart too easily sometimes, so this moment might just be things you’ve let bubble up more recently… but his instinct and familiarity both tell him that these aren’t new feelings.

“sweet girl, I think it’s the other way around. I don’t think I’m very deserving of someone as incredible as you.”

you blink and finally meet his eyes again. “but…”

he doesn’t let you continue. “I would give you anything you asked for just for existing, baby. you don’t have to do a damn thing for my love.”

reaching over to grab the bag he had around his wrist earlier, he presents it to you with a wide grin and an excited glint in his eyes. “but I’ll start with this.”

you take the bag and pull out what looks like a scrapbook. the cover is decorated with foam stickers that spell out both of your names and badly cut paper hearts that look to be taken from sparkly card-stock. the book itself is made from faux-leather in your favourite colour.

your eyes travel up from the photo album to keigo, curiously. he’s happy to see a small smile forming on your face and he wipes away the last of your tears with a feather. “keigo, did you-“

he chuckles a little nervously. “I know it’s not the best work you’ve ever seen, but I wanted to make something by hand for you. I, um, I’ve never really done arts and crafts before.”

he recognizes the sound that comes out of your mouth to be the same one you make when you see a stray animal. he’s not sure if that’s a good thing or not, but the smile on your face as you examine each page (twenty pages total, all hand decorated with printed pictures of you both documenting significant moments over the course of your relationship) makes him think the latter.

“I have other gifts for you, of course, but I know you’ve been talking about having a physical photo album instead of a digital one for a while now, so I thought I’d try it. If you don’t like it, that’s totally okay we can-“

you cut him off by throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him. “keigo, shut up, this is the sweetest gift I’ve ever received. there are songs associated with every picture. you’re literally so cute, where did you even get the idea for that?”

he laughs against your lips when you say that and shakes his head. “you’re joking, right? you always have a song for every occasion, how could I pass up on the opportunity?”

you press your lips against his again and he melts into it, relived that you like his first (of many) gift.

he watches you flip through it a couple more times with a smile before taking it and placing it on the nightstand. “alright, birthday girl, you can go back to sleep if you’d like.”

“you’re going to work?” you try to keep the disappointment out of your voice, but he hears it anyway and he’s so happy he planned for this.

“nope! I’m all yours today. I booked it off months ago, I just want you to rest up a bit more. you’re still sick, remember?”

he snickers when your hopeful smile drops at the mention of your cold. “ugh don’t remind me. but if I’m going back to sleep, you’re coming with me. you don’t have an excuse anymore and it’s my birthday, so I have some sway.”

“you always have sway, baby,” he says while getting under the covers with you.

“yeah, but I’m extra convincing today,” you argue, and he knows if he doesn’t curb the conversation right now, you’ll never fall back asleep.

“alright, alright, come here. just rest,” he tugs you down to lay on his chest and reaches under your shirt to caress your back.

“hey keigo?” you ask after a minute, voice once again riddled with sleep.

“mhm?”

“when you eventually get sick and I have to take care of you, can we add to the scrapbook some more?”

it’s a given that you would continue it together, but he doesn’t say that because he knows you’re too tired for the realization to hit you yet. so instead he presses a kiss to the top of your head. “of course, angel. that sounds great.”

you’re lulled to sleep a few minutes later to the sound of his voice whispering the sweetest of sweet nothings.

“happy birthday, baby.”

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okay this is unedited bc it’s not even 7 am while I’m typing this and I don’t have time later to change anything, so I’M SORRY 😭

the other bday fic is coming I swear 🥹

#keigo takami x reader #hawks x reader #hawks x reader fluff #keigo x reader fluff #mha x reader #bnha x reader

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piratefishmama · 1 year

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Finders Givers | Part 1

“—But maybe someday when my ship comes iiiin~ She’ll understand what kinda guy I’ve been, an then I’ll win”

“Chrriiiisss!!” Eddie whined as he tossed himself onto his front, burrowing his head under the pillow

“And when she’s waaalkin, she’s loookin, so FI-I-IIIINE!!”

“CHRIS!!” It was no use, she couldn’t hear him. Too busy belting out Billy Joel in their little kitchenette at… he shoved his pillow aside, realising it was a fruitless endeavour to try and block out the dying cat that was his roommate.

They’d gotten in at just gone two in the morning after blowing the very last of their ‘rainy day’ fund on ten for two dollar shots at a local student haunt, and now it was… ten in the morning, they didn’t have jobs left to get ready for, he still hadn't been able to find his wallet anywhere.

And Chrissy was. Singing.

As if they didn’t have to start job hunting again or risk the fury that was their greasy landlord and his mission to extort them of all their hard earned money. They’d be out on their asses by months end if they didn’t find something soon and the band wasn’t raking in as much cash as he’d have liked for it to be raking in.

Last he heard some big shot was looking to buy the Hideout too, probably shut them down for good. That’d be just their luck.

“An when she’s TAAALKIN she’ll say that she’s MI-I-IIINEE!” He threw his covers off, accepting defeat. At least it smelled like eggs and bacon, so she was clearly cooking the last of their breakfast foods.

Chrissy was of course in her sleep shirt, legs bare, with naught but slipper socks to keep her toes cosy on the tile floors of their kitchenette, swaying to the vinyl player belting out Billy Joel by the open window. Many a man’s fantasy come true, Chrissy was a vision while lost in her favourite music, but to him, Eddie Munson resident flaming homosexual, okay she was still beautiful he had eyes, but those leggy legs and swaying hips didn’t do it for him, thanks. “CHRISS!!”

And she jumped, barely managing to save the bacon from winding up as a sacrifice to the dastardly floor gods. Whipping around to face him, she graced him with the signature Chrissy ‘sunshine smile’ which… didn’t track for the killer hangover she ought to have had given she had three rounds of those shots all in that tiny-ass body of hers.

“Eddieee!!”

“Chrisssyyyy, what’cha doin, Chriss?”

“Breakfast! And Billy Joel!”

“I see that, at… ten in the morning, after student night!” They weren’t students, Chriss could pass for one though “Whaaat’s going on?”

“Letter! The letter, on the top there, read it!” And she was turning her back again hips swaying, moving the foods over to two plates, the only two they currently had clean, oof, it was his turn on dishes, damn what he wouldn’t give for a dishwasher.

Curiosity piqued, he crossed the short distance (it wasn’t a large apartment) and plucked up the neatly tri-folded piece of paper, letterheaded with a real fancy SH logo, a business address and corporate phone number, the letter reading,

“Dear Tenant” he didn’t do inner voices, he had to read it out loud “This is to inform you that as of the week commencing June 12th the building will be under… under new… new ownership?!” He looked up, eyes wide with alarm.

“Keep reading!!” She prompted as if predicting his alarm, she wasn’t even looking at him, clearly jazzed about something, new ownership? The building had been sold from under them and she was happy? He looked back at the paper.

“At this time, we will be… suspending… suspending?” She nodded, turning with two plates in her hand to their tiny little table that Wayne had donated when they moved in “suspending your required rent payments as we… look toward renovating the building and all apartments within.”

“Keep reading, there’s more!” He sat down at his usual chair, paper held in both hands, eyes fixed to the print as he read.

“Any rent arrears accrued in the duration of the building renovations will be… hold up—”

“Yep.”

“You’re joking.”

“Nope, not joking, it’s official I called them this morning, took me ages to get through to someone but it’s legit, Eddie.”

“But—but shit like this—this doesn’t happen Chriss, and you know what the Police said that one time you got scammed, right? If it seems too good—” he was still looking at that word, that one little word that made all the difference.

“Then it’s probably too good to be true! I know, I know, but I got the confirmation from their office, I GOOGLED the number too, I didn’t just call the one on the letter cause I know scams can get’cha that way.” Although what kind of scam it could be was baffling as it wasn’t asking for money it was saying they wouldn’t be asking for money for a while “sobered my ass right up let me tell you, best hangover cure in the world, and Mrs Jablonski next door got one too! And Dottie across the hall, I’m pretty sure I heard upstairs yelling earlier, an I mean like happy yelling, not yelling yelling like usual. Cheering! I think it’s legit, Eddie…”

“So… we just… we don’t have to pay rent, at all… for however the fuck long these renovations take to happen? Do we have an expected completion date to these renovations? Or start date?”

“Nope, just a from week commencing, the lady on the phone had no idea about them but she got the confirmation from ‘upstairs’ and just said there’d be more information sent to us eventually and not to worry about it.”

“Not to worry—not to worry about it?” He wanted to worry about it, every fibre of his being demanded he worry about it. Not that they could even pay rent if it was asked for, they had no money and no jobs after he’d decked their line manager for calling Chrissy fat, she was not fat, and she’d only just stopped staring at herself in the mirror as if every inch of her was wrong. She’d passed the month mark since she‘d last forced herself to throw up. She was finally getting some plump back into her cheeks.

She was on the mend. She was recovering. And he’d just—Eddie had seen red. He just wished he’d have been wearing his rings at the time.

“You can call them if you want!” She spoke around a mouthful of sunny side up eggs. “I think whatever it was, was a really random decision high up, like… it wasn’t something decided upon by a board of directors or anything because she took a while to get confirmation about it, but—but I dunno Eddie, maybe… maybe things can be good for a while.” They wouldn’t have to panic about getting jobs.

Wouldn’t have to deal with grease trap Carl the guy who collected their rent every month who seemed to just… always be greasy. Hands, hair, face, clothes. Who’d look at Chrissy like she was a piece of meat, or make disgusting comments about how lucky Eddie was to live with her, while she was stood right there holding Eddie’s arm back stopping him from launching at the guy.

Wayne had offered to run the guy over one time “Would be a one an done, son, would catch him at just the right time as he left the place an be gone just as fast, wouldn’t even know I was there.” Like a grade A parent, with all the gold stars available at the local craft store. But Eddie could deal with Carl.

They wouldn’t have to anymore though. If this was legit, it meant Carl was gone. No more Carl.

“…Screw calling them, I think we should go down there and see what’s up.”

“M’kay, but eat your damn breakfast that’s the last of the maple bacon an you got the bigger piece.” If he immediately traded the bigger piece on his plate for the smaller one on hers, well… she only smiled over it, she liked the maple kind more than him anyway.

Or so he'd told her.

Part 3

#PirateWrites #FindersGiversFiclet #Steddie #Mob Boss Steve Harrington #No Upside Down AU #Shady!Steve #CW: Lighthearted stalker vibes #Robin gonna judge Steve /SO/ hard.#cw: mentions of past eating disorder

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inventedfangirling · 8 months

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My friends i watched love for love's sake and I swear i don't have a fckin clue where even to start.

I know a lot has been said about the show already and i know a LOT more would be said about in the future, but i just can't help adding my own two cents to one of the most thought-provoking, moving and brilliantly executed pieces of art i have ever seen.

I'm not gonna go on about just how much I loved Tae Myungha's character and how he is one of the most interesting people I've seen on screen in a long time. I'm not gonna talk about how unbelievably squishable Yeowoon is and how his duality totally ruined me that I need him to get into my pocket and NEVER leave. And oh I need him to put Myungha in his pocket while at it. I'm also not gonna talk about precious 'of course i'm gay, i've always liked girls, you don't know how to be loved' Sangwon is to me, cos if i start I can promise you I will most certainly never stop.

So for the sake of the rest of this post, I'm moving on. (NOT REALLY THO)

I just LOVE LOVE LOVE all the interpretations that people are coming up with, LOVE LOVE LOVE the show for filling in the gaps but LOVE it more for still leaving room for pretty thought-flowers to bloom around.

You know those artworks or puzzles that have something obvious hidden in a maze of confusion and haze until somebody points out the pattern, you zoom out and realize wow it was this clear all along?? That's a LOT of what watching the show felt like to me. The pattern being how inexplicably inter-connected Myungha and Yeowoon are. Not because they are each other's blorbos, but because why they are eo's blorbos. Why they don't care for each other from a sense of sympathy, but from empathy, despite not knowing the depth of their connections explicitly.

Eventhough we do see glimpses of it from the start, it only gets more clear later how Myungha and Yeowoon really are mirror versions of eo. How the first time Myungha sees Yeowoon he's stopping him from killing himself, and then we later find out that Myungha ends up killing himself. How both of it was triggered by a series of disappointments in life, starting with a troubling family and ending with a grandmother who passes away. Of how both of them seem to really have no one else to call their own in the world. Of leading very lonely depressing lives, that seem to never have a glimpse of hope. How both of them seem closed off, but inside they really are so fragile it hurts to perceive the depth of their feelings. It all comes and hits you once you've taken the whole show in and have gotten a few 1000 seconds to think about it.

We start off with myungha's character wanting to make his blorbo's character happy, and he's in it cos he cares about him, he doesn't have to think about himself. A 'pathetic' character experiencing a lot of pain, what's not to love, Myungha thinks, not realizing that it's his own mirror self that he is feeling so much for. Myungha sees Yeowoon's problems as someone from outside and is therefore able to objectively look at it, and approach it proactively, taking so many steps to help him, my favourite (and arguably most important) of which is the effort he puts in to help form yeowoon a friend circle. Something that he couldn't do for himself cos he never even considered a possibility of that. Why would anybody want to be around him? He ruins everything right?

And then to go on despite believing that, to falling in love, to deciding to choose to save both his grandma and yeowoon, finally FINALLY taking control into his hands even if for a bit to say what he wants, to spending the last few days together, to breaking up cos he just thinks the worst of himself, cos he doesn't know better. And then to the eternal darkness, where moments before leaving, just like in his real life, he realizes he wants in, he wants to live, he wants to love, but more importantly this time, he wants to try being loved. Even if it's difficult, he wants to try.

I love how eventhough the show is heavily Myungha focused, we get meaningful dynamics with multiple characters. Round eyed gasp inducing moments dont just belong to the two mains but also to sangwon whose line to myungha post the stalker incident just ruined me and really set the tone for whatever the show was later revealed to be all about.

I love how complicated the narrative got while still telling a more or less coherent story, how in hindsight, a lot of it makes even more sense now. How as Myungha gets closer to yeowoon his self-hating tendencies manifest in the form of debuffs and errors, because of his own brain's inability to perceive himself as somebody deserving love. His childhood trauma and the numerous rejections life has given him, because of the kind of person he turned out to be because of those rejections, all appear to stand in his way of happiness, as if he can't help being a bundle of sadness and a harbinger of problems. Even as he says he doesn't believe in destiny or fate. Or as we initially are made to believe in the game as, yeowoon's happiness, when in reality this was never about yeowoon at all. Yeowoon never existed in the first place and in "real" life, he never does.

I was blown away by how Myungha is in fact no longer in the mortal world but that fact doesn't hurt as much as that he would have to leave a world where he could finally feel happiness, feel loved, feel cared for, even if he consciously tried avoiding them. They still came to him, they still cared for him, they still fiercely wanted to protect him, (Cos he is just a tiny meow meow, who has been hurt a lot in his life, who wouldn't wanna caress and nurse him back to health HUH) just as much as he wanted to protect them.

And coming to the question of what's the game, where is it happening and who orchestrated it? It's definitely set in the afterlife or the limbo between life and the life after. It could be the author friend doing it, or the author friend has given myungha's brain the power to control the game OR of course the possibility that this has all been happening in myungha's head the whole time.

Whatever it is, the whole point has been to take Myungha from a person not wanting to live his life, feeling so devoid of love and happiness, to a journey of love and friendship, of the importance of fostering connections, of making efforts, of helping others, but equally of letting others help you, of putting your hand out and asking for that help. And in my head I love it most when I think of it as entirely Myungha orchestrated. Of it being a desperate cry of pain to himself, from himself, to save himself. Yeowoon and the game and the missions and all of it was for him to see himself in ways he never allowed himself to be seen as, to take care of himself in ways he never has, to love himself like he has never known to. To finally run towards himself, even if pathetic and sad, the Cha Yeowoon of the game, the person waiting at the end of the finishing line was the Tae Myungha in him all along.

You know that tumblr quote 'do it for her' but its about your future self, right? Myungha rooting for Yeowoon is sort of like that? When he's protecing him, he's protecting himself? When he's cheering for him, he's actually cheering and rooting for himself? When he's loving him, he makes space and place to love himself?

I just love the idea of a (self) love story.

Eitherway Yeowoon x Myungha supremacy.

Extreme(ly accurate?) Interpretations apart, Love for Love's Sake is truly one of the, if not THE finest (self) love story I might have ever seen.

As a person who avoids fics/books with mcd or shows with tragic endings, it felt absolutely revolutionary to me that my biggest joy and relief came from the fact that the main character is dead (the thought of myungha having to leave the game was too much to handle) and he gets to live in this game where he has a cute boyfriend, a supportive, caring friend group and his grandma back. it wasn't the game that was temporary or non-existent, it was actually his life outside. And that's not bad? Cos this is a story and Myungha isn't real, but as real as he is, he got his happy ending.

The show taught us to love, to see love, to be loved and to share that love. It told us that maybe the afterlife is a videogame simulation where we all get to live in friendship and love forever, with our blorbo and our friends. There are a lot worse lives to live. And I'm glad he found it in himself, enough love, courage and hope to write himself a better one :')

#love for love's sake #love supremacy zone #bless this show #tae myung ha #cha yeowoon #korean bl #myungha x yeowoon #kbl #already 2024 favourite #i'd be shocked if anything could beat it #this is ofc just my own interpretation #meta #love for love's sake meta #okbai i have to post it now or i will be writing for EVER

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pinkslaystation · 8 months

Text

Ghost of A Connection

Ghost and Staff!Reader

In which you work at the nearest store at base, Ghost being your least favourite and unfortunately, most frequent, customer. Is there a connection there, or is it in his head? yALL - all these COD stories on tumblr got me hyped! So here I am tryna catch some clout ;) Be warned, this is possibly a very inaccurate version of military life, but then again, it's just a story. Word Count: 2.5k

Man, post-graduate life is hard.

Graduating top of your cohort of nearly 300 students in your masters degree within Psychology was impressive. Saving enough money from shadowing your senior Psychology professor and moving out to your apartment was impressive. Owing your own car was impressive.

What wasn't impressive though, was nearly hitting the 6 month mark of unemployment.

So here you are, stuck calling all your classmates for any open roles. You're so desperate at this point, you'd go for anything!

"Hey, Mahir! I know we didn't quite end of good terms...um-you know...when you asked for the mid-terms answers last year, and I- um...left you on delivered, and you had to retake the exams...but um, I hear you started working at the University as a Researcher and you're looking for a assistant? Well gee, don't forget how smart I a-"

Disconnected.

"Yooo, Josephine, it's me! From the Psychopathology group project! Yeah, I'm sorry I shouted at you for not doing your part on the project, and filing a complaint against you, haha...although, like, come on, it's your fault - you're 25, not a 5 year old bab-"

Blocked.

Wow. You were not liked.

So one evening, when you were on the phone to your childhood friend, Jordan Biggs, and had managed to slip out how desperately broke you were, he kindly offered a potential role at his workplace.

"Shop keeper? What, like a convenience store?" Remind me where you work again? Aren't you in the navy? What stores are you talking about?" You rambled, I mean a possible job - finally?!

On the line, Jordan chuckles, "Slow your roll, man. I've been been with the army for around 3 years now, I'm currently on a mission but we'll be home soon. Our base has a shop, that sells, you know, tactical gear-"

"GUNS?!" You interrupted.

Jordan laughs, then in shushed by, what you assume to be his teammate, "No, not any weapons. Just, tactical gear, MREs, bits and pieces of uniform. Sometimes you might be asked to clean the base, set up rooms for meetings. And ooh my favourite - work at the canteen. We serve the country, you serve us food." Jordan explains.

So you complied.

I mean, yeah, your degree isn't being utilised, but we're in a cost of living crisis, for Christ's sake.

And here you are, clad in a plain dark grey fleece, and straight black trousers, trying to look as professional as possible.

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

Your first day was silent. You found that you lived only 30 minutes away from the base, so you didn't struggle with the early shifts, working almost full days at the base, with a surprising decent salary.

You learnt you had replaced the previous worker, Katherine, a grumpy senior who quit, being fed up with the stench of these sweaty unkempt soldiers, and their rowdy behaviour after missions.

You also met your staff at the base, being the youngest one there gave you no surprise, with most your colleagues being double your age. You liked it. It was quiet, having met a few of the soldiers.

Your role was relatively simple. Consisting of various tasks such as ordering enough food to satisfy the recruits, more training equipment, when a recruit seemed to damage one. All in all, you were satisfied, especially when the first pay day rolled in.

You also noted that your colleagues, without fail, always seem to talk about a specific group of soldiers, such as Friday evening, when you all found yourself eating an early dinner.

"Soap is so sweet! He's always so generous when we talks to me, although I can't lie, I don't know what the fuck he says half the time." Your colleague rambles, shoving a spoon full of Friday's roast dinner into his mouth.

Another agreed, "Nothing beats the dilf of a man - Captain John Price. I may be chewing steak but that ain't the meat I want in my mouth, if you get what I mean-"

You choked, "Margaret, you're married with grand-kids, lord."

After a quiet but much needed conversation, you learnt about the most well-known team within the base, Task Force One-Four-One, lead by Captain John Price, forming of Johnny 'Soap' Mactavish, Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick, and the one you were most curious about - Simon 'Ghost' Riley.

"But like, why Ghost? If he's close to this Soap dude, why not call yourself Shampoo or something?"

Your colleagues laughed at your naivety glancing at each other.

"My dear, I don't dare to call him anything other than Lieutenant. He's entered a 10 metre radius of mine, and I've already pissed myself." One stated.

"I've heard he threatened to attack Katherine, just because she overcharged him, long story short, she quit." Another replied.

It seemed you didn't understand how feared Ghost really was...

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

By the time you all had finished dinner, the staff split up, some going back to the canteen to prepare dinners for the soldiers finishing training, some going to clean up the barracks, and you found yourself going back to your designated shop.

Aah, this is peaceful. You mumbled, drinking your hot chocolate, whilst sorting out all the army boots on display.

As the clock strikes 10 p.m. though, the silence is broken and you hear a stampede of soldiers, once you assume had come back from a month long mission. The majority of them, from what you'd heard, sprinted to the canteen to rid themselves of their strictly MRE diet, and finally eat some home cooked food, whilst others ran off to their freshly cleaned barracks to get some well-deserved sleep.

Your little shop also seemed to be quite busy, a long queue waiting to buy water bottles, bandages, blankets, you name it. From nearby chatter from the tired soldiers, it seems most of the teams had arrived back from Afghanistan, a successful mission with no death and a few minor injuries.

An hour goes by and the queue dies down to around 6 people, with one at the till: Jordan.

"So a water bottle, that would be £1.50, payin- my God, Jordan?" You smiled, getting in front of the counter and pulling into a hug. He smelt like dusty and you joked that 1 bottle of water wouldn't suffice to rinse him of the smell.

"I haven't seen you in forever, it's been like 6 months? How's the job been treating you?" He enquiries, placing a kiss against your forehead. By now, the nearly empty shop turns to face the both of you, many assuming the situation to be a couple reuniting.

You and Jordan continue to catch up on everything - his mission, your job...Margaret's obsession with which positions she can take Captain Price in...

"Bro, she was going so in depth into the many ways she can contort her waist for, what she calls, the Price penis?!" You pull your most fake-disgusted face, as Jordan cackles loudly.

But his laugh falls short as a deep scruffy voice interrupts him-

"The only thing being wasted right now, is my time. Hurry the fuck up and pay for your shit. You act like we have all the time in the fucking world."

You jump slightly at the harsh words, although this is a military base, you should be used to this foul language.

"My guy, she said waist, not waste-" Jordan begins, before straightening his back and realising who he was talking to.

He turns around to face the man's voice, his back now turned to you, obstructing your view of the unknown soldier.

"Lie-Lieutenant. My apologies! Lemme grab this water and get out of your way," Jordan nervously chuckles, you can't see who he's talking to, but you can tell this was a man of higher authority, given how Jordan stutters. "Ooh, I see what you wanted to buy! Gloves, nice, socks, cool, Coc-Coco pops?!"

"My fucking God Biggs, the only thing big about you is your stupidity and your pussy attitude, grab your shit and go. Stop holding the fucking line, mate." The male's British accent is so prominent with every word enunciated, and you wish to never run into this stranger again.

"Sir!" Jordan turns to you, handing you a fiver and awkwardly side hugging you, "Have fun with this jerk wad." He whispers into your hair, before running out the shop, his water bottle still on the counter.

"Jordan your bottle-"

Holy shit.

After Jordan moves, your eyes feast before you, revealing a godly 225 lb man, standing at an impressive 1.89 metres, dressed in his dark and intimidating casual attire, his face hidden behind a skeleton mask, his piercing eyes squinted and penetrating into your shorter frame, his biceps bulging out of his sweatshirt, his shoulders broad, his trousers failing to hold his impressive bulg-

"Are you going to continue gawking at me like a fuckin' donkey or should I not pay for this shit?" He huffs out in disappointment.

Rude. Plain rude. Sexy...but rude.

Now you know why Jordan couldn't move a muscle when faced with this guy. Putting 2 to 2 together, you clocked. The way other soldiers left the shop as he entered. The way one look from him gets them to shut up so quickly. The skeleton mask-

This is Ghost.

"We- I- Um-" What the hell? Why can't you form a damn sentence?

"I- I- I don't give a damn. My shit, here." He mocks you, slamming his items on the counter. By now, the other customers have scurried off in fear. It's now you and Ghost in the shop.

You nod, humming a yes, eyebrows furrowing at his unkind words.

The next few moments are followed by near silence, the only sounds being the scanning of the items and your quickening breath. His foot begins tapping rapidly, as sign that you're taking to long.

It's uncomfortabl-

"The old hag before you's gone then."

Yes, Ghost, she is. And if you keep acting like this, I will be too. You grunt a response, unable to find the right words.

"£28.50" You say curtly, after a while. He hums in response, pulling his wallet to pay.

You watch him nervously, you did not expect to see one of the most respected soldiers in front of you so soon. Someone so handsome, someone so fucking sexy, but someone so fucking bitchy...

Oh. You said that last bit out loud.

Ghost pauses his actions, his head slowly craning upwards, his gaze drinking you in.

Your eyes meet his, quickly looking back at the counter, unable to meet his furrowed but amused glare.

"'m so bitchy, but you seem to love it, sweetheart. So red, like you're fucking in love with me or something." He scowls, slapping a £20 note on the counter.

"Maybe next time stopping droolin' over other men when you have your own cunt of a boyfriend." He mutters, before taking his shit and leaving. You don't fail to catch the smirk in his voice, as he exits your shop, loud footsteps booming behind him.

Oh my god.

You were at a loss of words. You were also at a loss of £8.50.

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

"Jordy, you don't fuckin' get it! Dickhead left the place, without paying the full fucking price, mind you." Frustration was evident in your voice.

"Bitchy and broke," Jordan snickers.

"And the audacity to call you my boyfriend? Bye." You huff in annoyance, whilst Jordan chokes on his spit. If anything, he was a like a brother to you!

A week has gone by since that first encounter and your conversations with Jordan at the shop, when he passes by, always seem to end up at the topic of Ghost. The way he glares at you as you walk past him in the corridors. The way he sees you struggling when you carry boxes upon boxes- oh he won't help you, by the way. When you ask, he simply scoffs, "You're getting paid and you don't even want to do your job?"

Since that day, you've met all of the Task Force members. Price was as Margaret mentioned, sexy. Soap, comical, Gaz, kind-hearted, Ghost...yeah, he's there.

"But you don't get it man, he's so big- like over 6 foot! And those eyes- man those eyes. So condescending...but so hot..." you continue.

"Damn Margaret wannabe, we get it." Jordan jokes, drinking his can coke - which he didn't pay for. You'll tell him later.

As you both converse, loud footsteps enter the store.

Ghost. Again.

Did I mention he's been in here every day since the first time?

8 a.m. sharp, the moment you clock in for your shift, and 10 p.m. on the dot. Fucker's so annoying, he'll stay around the shopfloor, lazily looking at the various protein bars, even after you state the shop is already 10 minutes past closing.

But you don't mind. His silently stares at you, as if trying to remember the exact location of every beauty spot on your face, the consequent reddening of your cheeks, the slight touches of his rough callous fingers brushing against your own. All this unspoken tension, leads to your every thought being consumed by Simon Riley.

And when he enters the shop, wow. Buys the most random unnecessary shit ever. You notice how he walks in and purchases his singular Coco Pops cereal bar, day after day. This man isn't sick of them?

I mean, come o-

"Your obsession with me is flattering." He states.

Oh, forgot to mention, he's still an asshole. But at least after rehearsing to yourself in the mirror, you can actually speak up for yourself.

"Guh- buh- we- u-" Fuck's sake.

But he actually laughs this time. A loud imploding chuckle exits his mouth, and you actually smile a little at this unfamiliar emotion.

You can't tell what his face is doing under the mask, but his voice suggests a small smile rests on his face, but it soon disappears before he coughs awkwardly.

"Your boyfriend's in the infirmary by the way." He looks away, emphasising boyfriend a little too roughly.

You stare in confusion. Boyfriend? He picks up on this.

"Biggs. Rolled his ankle or some shit. Dunno why he can't just man it up. I've had worse injuries." He mumbles, smiling under his mark slightly, assuming Jordan isn't in fact your boyfriend.

Your eyes widen, "Jordy? Wha-who-how?"

"He-" But before he can answer your question, you're running out the shop to the infirmary, stealing a snack from the shelf for Jordan.

You fail to notice that you'd left a dejected Ghost at the counter, who'd picked up 2 coco pops instead of 1 this time, his smile faltering, as he planned to give you the 2nd, as a token of apology for his impolite behaviour.

In the end, he realised he'd been holding onto a ghost of a connection, overshadowed by the presence of another man.

He winces, being left alone at the till, hoping to actually strike up a conversation with you, as he gathers his (unpaid) belongings and walks out the door, off to shout at any rando that dares get in his way.

yALL its 2.30 a.m. and i'm craving coco pops-

#ghost angst #simon riley #call of duty #task force 141 #simon riley angst #simon riley fluff #cod #john price #ghost

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musicforastylesrestaurant · 11 months

Text

A Love Beyond Time.

fictober masterlist || ask me anything <3

authors note - this one is my personal favourite hence why i saved it for last, this is heavily tvd inspired so enjoy!

word count - 19.5k (core blimey…🫣)

in which, in 1864, a serene town was the canvas for your budding love story, as you joyfully prepared for a life together with your beloved husband. However, the tranquility shattered in one heart-wrenching moment during an unexpected town assault. Witnessing your husbands lifeless body crumple to the ground, your world came crashing down, forever altering the course of your existence. You were left haunted by that fateful day, struggling to piece together a life in the aftermath of the tragedy, while whispers of a supernatural twist and the possibility of a reunion with your once-lost love lingered on the edges of your consciousness, marking the passage of years and bringing an enigmatic undercurrent to your existence.

trigger warnings: vampires, mentions of death, blood, and panic attacks, and lots of flashbacks.

trope: vampire!harry

The year was 1864.

You were running through a dense forest, heart pounding with fear and determination. The moon casts an eerie glow, illuminating the path ahead as you desperately seek your husband.

The events that led you here began when your peaceful town of Holmes Chapel came under attack during the night. A sudden intrusion into your shared bedroom left you in shock as masked assailants dragged your husband away to defend the town.

With your lantern held tightly, you forge ahead, leaves crunching beneath your boots. The forest whispers with the secrets of the night, but your thoughts are solely on your husband's safety. The echoes of distant gunshots pierce the air, driving you to move faster.

Time blurs as you push deeper into the woods, clutching the locket he gave you on your wedding day. It's a beacon of hope in the darkness, a reminder of the love that propels you forward. Branches claw at your dress as if trying to halt your progress, but you press on.

The forest seems to come alive with eerie sounds, but you remain undeterred. Your mind races with memories of your life together. You recall the way he looked when he first kissed you, promising to always protect you. Now it's your turn to protect him.

The adrenaline was coursing through your veins is your only guiding light. The eerie shadows cast by moonlight make it difficult to see, and your heart is pounding with the urgency of finding your husband. With each step, you feel your breath quicken and the weight of worry pressing upon you.

Amidst the chaos of your pursuit, your foot suddenly catches on a hidden rock. Time slows for an instant as you stumble forward, unable to maintain your balance. You crash to the ground with a sharp gasp, and the pain in your knee shoots through your body like a lightning bolt.

The forest floor is unforgiving, and you scramble to your knees, wincing in pain. A searing sensation courses through your leg as you assess the damage. Moonlight reveals the crimson stain of your blood on your torn dress, a stark reminder of your fall. Your trembling fingers press against the wounded knee, and you hiss in pain.

Seated on the forest floor, the pain in your injured knee sends sharp jolts of agony through your body. The wound on your leg continues to bleed, a painful reminder of your fall. Breathing heavily, you clench your teeth to stifle the pain, still fixated on the task at hand—finding your husband.

In the oppressive silence of the night, a gunshot shatters the stillness, echoing through the trees.

Your head snaps in the direction of the sound, dread seizing your heart.

The forest seems to hold its breath, and in the pale moonlight, you catch a nightmarish glimpse of your husband's body falling to the ground in the distance.

Time itself seems to freeze as you watch in disbelief. Your heart, already heavy with fear and worry, now carries the unbearable weight of witnessing his lifeless form crumple to the forest floor.

A haunting numbness washes over you, and you can't believe what your eyes have just witnessed.

Your husband's stillness in the moonlight is a stark contrast to the vibrant and caring man you know.

He lies motionless, and you can't tear your eyes away from him. The forest, which once felt full of life, now feels like a desolate and eerie place, bearing witness to a tragedy.

Shock paralyzes you, keeping you rooted to the ground where you sit, knees trembling. The wound on your leg goes unnoticed as your mind grapples with the devastating reality that has unfolded before you.

Every moment feels like an eternity as you struggle to accept what you've seen, unable to comprehend the loss that has befallen you.

Tears well up in your eyes, but you can't bring yourself to move. Your mind races, emotions tangled in a web of grief and disbelief. The forest becomes a haunting backdrop to the pain that now consumes you, as you continue to stare in anguished shock at the lifeless body of the man you love.

As if jolted awake by a cruel nightmare, you suddenly snap out of your daze. The image of your husband's lifeless body lingers in your mind, but there's an urgency now, an unrelenting force pushing you to your feet. Ignoring the searing pain in your wounded knee, you rise unsteadily and turn away from the devastating scene.

Determination courses through you, propelling you forward into the heart of the forest. Every step, though painful, is infused with purpose. The leaves underfoot crunch with a mournful sound, like the breaking of your heart, while twigs snap like the fragile threads of your resolve.

Moonlight filters through the dense canopy, casting ghostly, dancing shadows that accompany you on your desperate journey. The night is filled with the symphony of the forest - the hushed whispers of the wind, the distant calls of nocturnal creatures, and your own labored breaths.

You press on, driven by the need to understand what happened and to seek justice for your husband. The forest, once a place of serene beauty, has transformed into an ominous labyrinth of uncertainty. Each rustle in the underbrush keeps you on edge, as the sounds of the night seem to conspire against you.

Branches reach out to snatch at your dress, as if attempting to hold you back, but your determination allows no interference. The path you follow is shrouded in darkness, with only the faintest hint of the trail your husband might have taken. Your heart beats like a drum, echoing the urgency of your quest.

The forest around you is now a battleground, the cacophony of gunshots and cries of conflict growing louder as you approach your husband's lifeless form.

You cast aside the fear and pain, crouching down beside him, your hands trembling as they reach out to touch his still-warm cheek.

"H, it's me," you whisper, tears streaming down your face.

"I'm here, love. Everything's going to be okay. Help is coming. You'll be fine." Your voice wavers, but you try to sound strong for him, to provide him with the reassurance he needs.

His breaths are shallow, his eyes half-lidded, but they flicker open as he hears your voice. He manages a faint smile, bloodstained lips trembling as he reaches for your hand. His wedding band rubs against your fingers, a testament to the love you share, and it's a stark reminder of what's at stake.

"I love ‘ye," he rasps, the words barely audible over the chaos that surrounds you. His grip on your hand tightens, and you feel the fleeting warmth of his touch.

Your heart aches with love and grief as you squeeze his hand in response, your voice choked with emotion.

Tears blur your vision, but you lean in closer, desperate to make the most of the precious moments you have left together.

"I love you too, baby. More than anything in this world. We'll get through this together. Just hold on a little longer." Your voice trembles as you speak, your forehead touching his, a gesture of love and connection in this dire moment.

Around you, the battle rages on, but in this fragile bubble of time, it's just you and him. You whisper soothing words, your fingers tracing his cheek, brushing away blood-soaked hair from his forehead.

The forest, once a place of tranquillity, is now the setting of your heart-wrenching farewell.

Harry's breathing becomes more laboured, and his eyes lose focus, but he clings to your hand as if it were his lifeline. He musters a smile, his love and strength shining through even in the face of death.

You can see it in his eyes, in the way he gazes at you, that he's saying goodbye.

With trembling lips, you press a gentle kiss to his forehead.

"You're my everything, Harry. I'll carry you with me always." Your words are tender, a declaration of love and a promise to cherish his memory.

His last breath escapes him, and his hand slowly falls from yours. Your world crumbles in that moment, and you're left alone with the lifeless body of the man you love, in a forest transformed by tragedy.

The forest, once echoing with the sounds of battle, falls silent as you let out a heart-wrenching scream of heartbreak. It's a primal, agonising sound that pierces the night, a cry of loss and despair. Your voice carries your pain to the heavens, but it's met with a cold, uncaring silence.

Tears flow uncontrollably as you lay your head on your husband's motionless torso. His body is still warm, but there's no life left in it. You can feel the rise and fall of his chest no more, and the reality of his absence bears down on you like a crushing weight.

Sobs wrack your body as you clutch his lifeless form, fingers tangled in his blood-stained shirt. The forest watches in mournful silence, the moonlight casting eerie shadows upon your anguished figure.

You sit alone in your dimly lit bedroom, the only source of light being the faint glow of the moon seeping through the curtains. Your eyes are fixed on the calendar hanging on the wall, its pages marked with the passage of time. It’s getting closer and closer to what would have been your husband's birthday, a day that used to be filled with joy and celebration, but now it's a painful reminder of what was lost.

As you trace your fingers over the date, your mind drifts back to that fateful day, fourteen months after your wedding.

Tears well up in your eyes as you remember his warm smile and the touch of his hand. He was your rock, your confidant, and your soulmate. The love you shared was profound and unbreakable, and his loss left a void that no one could fill.

But there's something different about you, something that sets you apart from the rest of humanity. It's the reason you sit here tonight, 159 years later, in a world that has long moved on without you. You hadn't died with your husband because of a twist of fate. It was a vampire's bite that had saved you from death's grasp that day, turning you into a creature of the night.

In the stillness of the night, you can feel the ancient power coursing through your veins. The thirst for blood is a constant reminder of your new existence, and the conflict between your longing for humanity and the supernatural urges that consume you is a torment that never fades. The isolation you've felt for over a century is crushing, but it's nothing compared to the loneliness of losing your beloved husband.

You reach for your left hand, where a delicate silver band still rests on your finger. It's your wedding ring, and you've worn it every day since that fateful day in 1864. The memories of your wedding day flood back—the vows you exchanged, the laughter, and the love that was so pure and genuine.

As you sit in the darkness, the anguish of your existence as an immortal being intensifies. The passing years have done nothing to ease the pain of your husband's absence. You've watched the world change, evolve, and progress, all while you remain locked in the past, bound by your unending love and grief.

The calendar on the wall stands as a cruel reminder of the passage of time, and each passing day only deepens the chasm in your heart. You know that you can never truly move on, but you continue to exist, trapped between two worlds, clinging to the memories of a life that was taken from you too soon.

you carefully pull out a small, weathered box from under the bed. It's where you've kept the cherished notes you and your husband used to exchange, fragile pieces of the past that still hold the warmth of his words.

The first note you pick up is a simple, heartfelt one.

It reads,

𝑀𝓎 𝒟𝑒𝒶𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓉 (𝒴/𝒩),

𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝒾𝓈 𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓁𝓁, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐼'𝓂 𝒶𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑒, 𝓊𝓃𝒶𝒷𝓁𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝓈𝓁𝑒𝑒𝓅 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒾𝓃 𝓂𝓎 𝒶𝓇𝓂𝓈. 𝒜𝓁𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊'𝓇𝑒 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓃𝑒𝓍𝓉 𝒹𝑜𝑜𝓇, 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓌𝒾𝓃𝒹𝑜𝓌 𝓈𝑒𝓅𝒶𝓇𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓈 𝓊𝓈 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝒶 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓈𝓂. 𝐼 𝓂𝒾𝓈𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒶𝒻𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓃𝑜𝑜𝓃𝓈 𝓌𝑒 𝓈𝓅𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓉, 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝒹 𝑜𝓃 𝓂𝓎 𝒸𝒽𝑒𝓈𝓉, 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓁𝒹 𝒻𝒶𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝓌𝒶𝓎.

𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝑔𝓇𝑜𝓌𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒸𝑜𝓁𝒹𝑒𝓇, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓂𝓉𝒽, 𝐼 𝒻𝑒𝑒𝓁 𝒶𝓃 𝒾𝒸𝓎 𝓋𝑜𝒾𝒹. 𝐼 𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑔 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓁𝒶𝓊𝑔𝒽𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓉𝑜𝓊𝒸𝒽. 𝒯𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓁𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒷𝓇𝒾𝒹𝑔𝑒𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑔𝒶𝓅 𝒷𝑒𝓉𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓃 𝓊𝓈, 𝒸𝒶𝓇𝓇𝓎𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓂𝓎 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓊𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓁 𝓌𝑒 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝒷𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝓊𝓃𝒾𝓉𝑒𝒹. 𝐼 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓈 𝓊𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓁 𝓌𝑒 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝒶𝑔𝒶𝒾𝓃 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝓈𝑜𝓁𝒶𝒸𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝓃𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓈𝑒 𝓉𝓇𝑒𝑒𝓈.

𝒰𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒹𝒶𝓎, 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓂𝓎 𝑔𝓊𝒾𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝓊𝓃 𝒾𝓃 𝓂𝓎 𝓈𝓀𝓎.

𝒴𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈 𝒶𝓁𝓌𝒶𝓎𝓈,

𝐻.

A bittersweet smile tugs at your lips as you remember the nights you spent wrapped in each other's embrace.

The next note brings back memories of a time when your husband fell ill. In his distinctive handwriting,

It reads,

𝑀𝓎 𝒟𝑒𝒶𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓉 (𝒴/𝒩),

𝐼 𝒽𝑜𝓅𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓁𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒹𝓈 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒾𝓃 𝑔𝑜𝑜𝒹 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓁𝓉𝒽 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒽𝒾𝑔𝒽 𝓈𝓅𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓉𝓈, 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝐼 𝓂𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓇𝑒𝑔𝓇𝑒𝓉𝒻𝓊𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝒾𝓃𝒻𝑜𝓇𝓂 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝐼 𝒶𝓂 𝒻𝑒𝑒𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓊𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝑜𝒹𝒶𝓎. 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝓉𝑒𝓁𝓁𝓉𝒶𝓁𝑒 𝓈𝒾𝑔𝓃𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒻𝓁𝓊 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝒸𝑒𝓃𝒹𝑒𝒹 𝓊𝓅𝑜𝓃 𝓂𝑒, 𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓋𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓂𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝒶 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓉𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝒹𝒾𝓈𝒸𝑜𝓂𝒻𝑜𝓇𝓉 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒻𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑔𝓊𝑒.

𝐼 𝓌𝓇𝒾𝓉𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒶 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓋𝓎 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝒾𝓉 𝒾𝓈 𝓂𝓎 𝓈𝒾𝓃𝒸𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓌𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒹𝑜 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒶𝒻𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓃𝑜𝑜𝓃 𝒶𝓈 𝓌𝑒 𝒽𝒶𝒹 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝓃𝓃𝑒𝒹. 𝐼 𝒻𝑒𝒶𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓂𝓎 𝒶𝒾𝓁𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝒾𝓈 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝒶𝑔𝒾𝑜𝓊𝓈, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓁𝒶𝓈𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝐼 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝒾𝓈 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝑜 𝒻𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒶𝓈 𝓌𝑒𝓁𝓁. 𝐼 𝒸𝒶𝓃𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒷𝑒𝒶𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝒷𝑒𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓈𝓊𝒻𝒻𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔.

𝒫𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑒 𝓊𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓂𝓎 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓇𝑒𝓂𝒶𝒾𝓃𝓈 𝒶𝓈 𝓈𝓉𝓇𝑜𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝓈 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒾𝓉 𝒾𝓈 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓊𝓉𝓂𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝒸𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝒸𝑒𝓇𝓃 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓌𝑒𝓁𝓁-𝒷𝑒𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝐼 𝓂𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓇𝑒𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉. 𝑅𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝒶𝓈𝓈𝓊𝓇𝑒𝒹, 𝐼 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒹𝑜 𝓂𝓎 𝒷𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝓇𝑒𝒸𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝓈𝓌𝒾𝒻𝓉𝓁𝓎, 𝓈𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓌𝑒 𝓂𝒶𝓎 𝓈𝑜𝑜𝓃 𝒷𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝓊𝓃𝒾𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝒶𝓃𝓎 𝓇𝒾𝓈𝓀 𝓉𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓁𝓉𝒽.

𝒰𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓃, 𝓂𝓎 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽𝓉𝓈 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐼 𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑔 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝒶𝓎 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓌𝑒 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝑜𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝒶𝑔𝒶𝒾𝓃 𝓈𝒽𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒶𝒻𝒻𝑒𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝒽𝒶𝒹𝑜𝓌 𝑜𝒻 𝒾𝓁𝓁𝓃𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝒽𝒶𝓃𝑔𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝓊𝓈.

𝒲𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝓎 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒,

𝐻.

With a delicate touch, you unfold the last note, which is filled with affectionate words.

𝑀𝓎 𝒟𝑒𝒶𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓉 (𝒴/𝒩),

𝒜𝓈 𝐼 𝓈𝒾𝓉 𝒹𝑜𝓌𝓃 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓅𝑒𝓃 𝒾𝓃 𝒽𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓂𝓎 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓇𝒻𝓁𝑜𝓌𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒶𝒻𝒻𝑒𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃, 𝐼 𝓂𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝑜𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝒶𝑔𝒶𝒾𝓃 𝑒𝓍𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓃𝒹𝓁𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝐼 𝒻𝑒𝑒𝓁 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊. 𝒲𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎 𝓅𝒶𝓈𝓈𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒹𝒶𝓎, 𝓂𝓎 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒹𝑒𝑒𝓅𝑒𝓃𝓈, 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝒶 𝓇𝒾𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝒸𝒶𝓇𝓋𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒾𝓉𝓈 𝓅𝒶𝓉𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝓇𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓁𝒶𝓃𝒹𝓈𝒸𝒶𝓅𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝓂𝓎 𝓈𝑜𝓊𝓁.

𝒴𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓈𝑒𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝓂𝓎 𝓁𝒾𝒻𝑒 𝒾𝓈 𝒶 𝒷𝑒𝒶𝒸𝑜𝓃 𝑜𝒻 𝓁𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝒶𝓇𝓀𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒𝓈, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓈𝓂𝒾𝓁𝑒 𝒽𝒶𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝑜𝓌𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝑜 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓈𝑒 𝒶𝓌𝒶𝓎 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝓎 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈. 𝒲𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝐼 𝑔𝒶𝓏𝑒 𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝑒𝓎𝑒𝓈, 𝐼 𝓈𝑒𝑒 𝒶 𝓊𝓃𝒾𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝒷𝑒𝒶𝓊𝓉𝓎 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝒹𝓃𝑒��𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒶𝓀𝑒𝓈 𝓂𝓎 𝒷𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒽 𝒶𝓌𝒶𝓎.

𝐼 𝒶𝓂 𝓈𝑜 𝒾𝓃𝒸𝓇𝑒𝒹𝒾𝒷𝓁𝓎 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝓉𝓊𝓃𝒶𝓉𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒷𝓎 𝓂𝓎 𝓈𝒾𝒹𝑒, 𝓉𝑜 𝒸𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑒. 𝒴𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓁𝒶𝓊𝑔𝒽𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒾𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓉𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝓂𝓊𝓈𝒾𝒸, 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓉𝑜𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓂𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝑒𝓂𝒷𝓇𝒶𝒸𝑒, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒, 𝓂𝓎 𝒹𝑒𝒶𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓉, 𝒾𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑔𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝑔𝒾𝒻𝓉 𝐼 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝓇𝑒𝒸𝑒𝒾𝓋𝑒𝒹.

𝐼 𝒸𝒽𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓈 𝓌𝑒 𝓈𝒽𝒶𝓇𝑒, 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓆𝓊𝒾𝑒𝓉 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓈𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈, 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝑜𝓁𝑒𝓃 𝑔𝓁𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒𝓈, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓂 𝑒𝓂𝒷𝓇𝒶𝒸𝑒𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓈𝓅𝑒𝒶𝓀 𝑜𝒻 𝒶 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓈𝑜 𝒹𝑒𝑒𝓅 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹𝓈 𝑜𝒻𝓉𝑒𝓃 𝒻𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓇𝓉. 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝓂𝓎 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓁𝒹, 𝓉𝒽𝑒 ��𝒾𝓈𝓈𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓅𝒾𝑒𝒸𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒽𝒶𝓈 𝓂𝒶𝒹𝑒 𝓂𝓎 𝓁𝒾𝒻𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝓅𝓁𝑒𝓉𝑒.

𝐼 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓃 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹𝓈 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓋𝑒𝓎, 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓃 𝒶𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝑒𝓍𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓈. 𝑀𝓎 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒾𝓈 𝒶 𝒻𝓁𝒶𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒷𝓊𝓇𝓃𝓈 𝑒𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓃𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎, 𝒶 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝒸𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝑒𝓍𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓊𝒾𝓈𝒽. 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝓂𝓎 𝓁𝒾𝒻𝑒, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐼 𝒶𝓂 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓉𝑒𝒻𝓊𝓁 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓈𝑒𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝓂𝓎 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉.

𝒲𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝓂𝓎 𝓈𝑜𝓊𝓁,

𝐻.

The room is filled with a mixture of emotions as you read through these notes. You can almost hear his voice in your mind, feel his presence in the room, as though he's still with you. The memories of your time together, both the joyful and the challenging, flood your mind.

As you continue to flip through the notes, a sense of nostalgia washes over you. Each piece of paper tells a story of your love, a love that transcends time and space. These tangible remnants of your past are a lifeline to the happiness and connection you shared.

You can't help but hold the notes to your chest, as if doing so will bring him back, if only for a moment. The handwritten words become a connection to a love that remains eternally alive in your heart.

he room is filled with a mixture of emotions as you read through these notes. You can almost hear his voice in your mind, feel his presence in the room, as though he's still with you. The memories of your time together, both the joyful and the challenging, flood your mind.

As you are in your trance, the door to your bedroom creaks open. Your best friend, Zayn, your steadfast companion in this new world of immortality, enters the room.

His vampire senses allow him to sense your emotional state even before he takes in the scene.

Zayn's eyes meet yours, and he can see the raw emotions that you've been holding back. He knows that this time of year is always difficult for you, a reminder of the love and loss that defines your existence. Without a word, he moves closer and takes a seat beside you on the bed.

Gently, Zayn wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. His touch, cold yet reassuring, provides a sense of comfort that only someone who shares your immortal life can offer.

He doesn't need to speak, for he understands the depth of your pain and the heaviness of your heart.

Time seems to stand still as you both sit there, the only sound in the room being the soft rustle of the notes you're clutching. Zayn's presence is a soothing balm to your aching soul, a reminder that you're not alone in this eternity.

You lean into his embrace, finding solace in the silent companionship that has defined your centuries together.

The room is bathed in the soft, silvery glow of the moon, casting a gentle light upon the two of you. Zayn's immortal eyes reflect a profound empathy as he gazes at you.

He may not share your specific pain, but he comprehends the depth of your sorrow, and his unwavering support is a testament to the strength of your friendship.

You feel a sense of unity in this quiet moment, connected by the unspoken understanding of your shared existence. Zayn's presence, like the memories in those letters, is a constant in your life, a source of reassurance that you cling to when the weight of your solitude becomes unbearable.

Zayn's fingers brush gently against the back of your hand, an unspoken gesture of sympathy and empathy.

As the night unfolds around you, you find comfort in the silence, in the shared understanding between two immortals whose lives are forever marked by the passage of time and the enduring power of love.

The minutes tick by, but in the arms of your friend, time loses its urgency. You don't need words to communicate your pain, for Zayn's presence is a reminder that, in this unending night, you have someone who stands by your side, even when the memories of your husband's birthday bring waves of sorrow.

Zayn eventually breaks the stillness.

He clears his throat softly, turning his gaze to you, his vampire eyes expressing concern.

"Are you ready to get going soon?" he asks, his voice a gentle yet encouraging nudge.

You release a soft sigh, nodding your head slowly, and your voice trembles slightly as you reply, "Just a few more things to pack, and then I'll be ready."

Zayn senses the fragility of your emotions and offers his support, asking, "Can I help you with anything?"

He watches you idly fiddling with the bracelet around your wrist.

Noticing your restlessness, he reaches out to softly hold your hands, halting your nervous actions. Concern etched on his face, he asks, "What's wrong?"

Your eyes meet his, and you hesitate for a moment before finally voicing your uncertainty.

"Do we really have to go there today?" you inquire, your tone tinged with a hint of vulnerability.

Zayn's grip on your hand tightens, not in a romantic manner, but to convey his steadfast support.

In a comforting tone, he begins to explain, "You know we go every year. It's a tradition. It helps you remember and honour the past, and it always seems to make you feel better."

His words are laced with a sense of understanding, a reminder that he has been with you through many of these anniversaries.

You contemplate his words, the weight of your annual pilgrimage tugging at your heart. The place you're about to visit holds bittersweet memories, a reminder of the life you once shared with your husband.

Each year, you return there to pay your respects and keep his memory alive.

Zayn's grip on your hand offers reassurance, a silent pledge that he'll be there with you, providing the strength and support you need. The drive ahead is long, but it's a journey you make together, year after year, as a testament to your enduring bond.

As you begin to pack your belongings, you can't help but wonder about the emotional rollercoaster that lies ahead. The memories that await at your destination are a mix of joy, love, and sorrow, and you find solace in the fact that Zayn is there to accompany you on this annual journey.

The room slowly fills with the soft rustling of your belongings, a tangible representation of the steps you take to prepare for this day. Zayn doesn't need to say much more; his presence and unwavering support are all the encouragement you require.

In the year 1865, the world outside was marred by the horrors of war, but your own battle was one fought against a relentless adversary: cholera. It was a wretched disease that had laid its icy grip upon you, and the diagnosis had been grim.

You had been confined to your bed, frail and weak, under strict orders not to venture out. The days had blurred into one another, marked by the agonising pain that twisted your body.

As night descended upon your small, dimly lit room, you found yourself unable to bear the separation any longer.

Weak limbs, trembling with fever, carried you out of the house, driven by an insatiable yearning to be close to your husband's resting place.

He had been taken from you too soon, a victim of the brutality, and the thought of joining him beyond the mortal coil was a solace that beckoned you.

The moon's pale glow guided your unsteady steps as you stumbled through the darkness, clutching at the fragile shreds of your existence.

Tears rolled down your cheeks, mingling with the dirt on your face as you reached your husband's grave.

The earth beneath you was cold and unforgiving, much like your fate, and you could hardly breathe as your vision blurred.

In the silence of the night, you lay there, your life slipping away like grains of sand through your fingertips.

It was then that Zayn, a lone vampire with a heart that had not yet been completely hardened by the centuries, stumbled across your frail form. His immortal eyes, adapted to the darkness, were drawn to your prone figure, wracked with pain and suffering.

Zayn had seen countless lives extinguished by cholera, innocent humans who met a cruel fate. He couldn't stand the thought of witnessing yet another life claimed by the merciless disease.

The decision was made in an instant; he would not allow you to die alone in the dirt.

Biting into his wrist, he let his own blood flow freely, a crimson elixir that held the power to grant life beyond the brink of death. Gently, he brought his wrist to your lips, the metallic taste of his blood mixing with the dirt on your tongue.

As the tears continued to roll down your cheeks, you accepted the gift, and as your world faded to black, you knew that you would wake once more.

When you did awaken, it was with a newfound strength, but also with the realisation that you were no longer the same. You had been turned into a creature of the night, a vampire like Zayn.

You could feel the ancient power coursing through your veins, and you knew that you had been given a second chance at life.

Zayn, ever the silent guardian, watched over you as you adjusted to your new existence. He had saved you from the clutches of cholera and given you a gift that had bound you together for eternity.

The pain of your past remained, but it was now mingled with the promise of a future, one that would be marked by a different kind of immortality.

The moon that had witnessed your despair now bore witness to your rebirth, casting a silvery light upon the world. Your husband's grave, the place where you had once sought solace in death, became a reminder of the choices that had brought you back to life. In the embrace of the night, you and Zayn forged a bond that would endure through the ages, a bond forged in the crucible of darkness and the unyielding desire to protect a fragile, mortal soul.

The day of your husband's funeral is shrouded in a thick blanket of gray clouds, a reflection of the somber mood that hangs in the air.

You stand at the front of the gathering, holding the hands of your husband's sister, Gemma, and his mother, Anne. You are positioned in the center, a symbol of the family's strength, while the world grieves around you.

Harry, your husband, remains hidden in the shadows of a nearby bush, concealed by the dense foliage.

His heart aches as he watches the mourners, his loved ones, weeping for him. The weight of his decision to become a vampire bears down on him heavily, and guilt gnaws at his conscience.

He longs to step out from the darkness, to hold you in his arms and console his grieving family, but he knows the consequences would be dire.

The insatiable bloodlust that courses through him is a risk he can't take.

Liam, the one who turned Harry into a vampire, stands beside him, aware of Harry's internal turmoil. As the mourners begin to weep more openly, and your tears flow, Harry's eyes glisten with unshed tears.

He is desperate to be by your side, to share in your pain, to say his final goodbyes. But Liam knows that he's not ready to control his primal instincts, and he grabs Harry's arm, holding him back.

Harry's eyes lock with Liam's, and there's a silent understanding between them. Liam's grip tightens, and he speaks softly, a voice only Harry can hear.

"You can't go over there, Harry," Liam insists. "Your thirst will be uncontrollable. You need training, discipline. You're not ready to face them without putting them in danger."

Harry's heart aches with the truth of Liam's words. He knows he's not in control of his newfound vampiric instincts, and the potential harm he could cause to those he loves weighs heavily on his conscience. A tear escapes his eye, rolling down his cheek as he gazes at you and his family from the shadows.

In the distance, Gemma sobs quietly, her shoulders trembling. Anne clings to you, her grief profound and palpable. Harry's anguish deepens as he realizes he can't comfort them, can't wipe away their tears. He wants nothing more than to hold you all, to whisper words of love and reassurance, but the consequences of his presence are too dire.

Harry clenches his jaw and nods slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. He understands that he must control the beast within him, no matter how much it pains him to stay away. He watches as the mourners continue to grieve, knowing that he must focus on his training to become a responsible vampire, even if it means sacrificing his desire to be with you one last time.

Harry's memories of those early days with you were etched into his heart, timeless and evergreen. The two of you had been young, so young that it felt like you both had the world at your feet.

It was the norm back then to marry young, and so you had, vowing to spend a lifetime together.

At the tender age of seventeen, the two of you had become husband and wife, and Harry had been just eighteen when he was taken from you.

The day you said your vows had been a blur of emotions, a whirlwind of love and promises.

The sun had shone brightly, casting a golden hue on the small chapel where you had gathered with their families and friends.

Harry couldn't have been more proud or more in love as he watched you walk down the aisle, a vision of grace and beauty.

The year that followed had been filled with joy, adventure, and love. You had faced the world hand in hand, growing together as you navigated the challenges and joys that life presented.

Harry's love for you had only deepened with time, and he couldn't imagine a life without you by his side.

The night he was dragged out of bed to defend the town had been a harrowing one.

The chaos of the attack had thrust him into the front lines, where he had fought valiantly to protect his home and loved ones.

In the midst of the battle, he had been taken from you leaving your heart with a void that could never be filled.

Harry found himself back in his hometown in the year 2023. It had been a long and winding journey that had brought him here, to the place where he and you had once shared a life together. The memories of your youth had been a bittersweet comfort, and he couldn't resist the pull of returning to the town you had both had once called home.

A year had passed since his return, and Harry had settled into the rhythm of everyday life in the town.

His immortality was a secret he guarded closely, and only told a certain group of people, but to fit in with the world around him, he had made the decision to attend the local high school.

His appearance, frozen in time, allowed him to blend in as an eighteen-year-old, a senior in high school.

The hallways of the school were bustling with youthful energy, and Harry navigated them with a sense of nostalgia. The students around him were so different from the world he had once known, but their dreams and aspirations remained the same. It was a peculiar feeling to be an immortal amidst those who still had their entire lives ahead of them.

Harry stood by his locker, surrounded by the familiar sights and sounds of the high school. He was in the process of organizing his books for his next lesson when he felt a presence approach.

Turning around, he was greeted by the smiling faces of his two closest friends, Sarah and Mitch, who were dating.

They had been his unwavering support since his return to this town, and they were among the few who knew his secret.

Sarah and Mitch shared an unbreakable bond, one that had grown even stronger with the knowledge of Harry's true nature. They had embraced him with open arms, offering friendship and a sense of belonging that he had desperately missed.

"Hey, Haz," Sarah chimed, her warm smile lighting up the hallway. "You coming to the Grove later?"

The Chapel Grove.

A local hangout spot for the families of Holmes Chapel, they sold food such as greasy burgers, loaded fries and even served drinks such as Milkshakes and of the alcoholic kind.

Mitch nodded in agreement, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Yeah, It was Ricky’s idea."

Harry, still playing with his books, shrugged his shoulders. He let out a sigh, his voice tinged with a hint of regret. "M’not sure, v’ got a ton of homework t’do. Y’know how it is."

His two friends exchanged knowing glances. They understood that Harry's commitment to his studies was both genuine and a cover for the reality of his existence. They respected his choices, knowing that the weight of his immortality was a burden he carried alone.

Sarah reached out and gently placed a hand on Harry's shoulder.

He watched as Sarah and Mitch walked away, their laughter fading into the distance.

It was a bittersweet moment, a reminder of the normal life he had once shared with you and the sacrifices he now made to honour her memory.

Harry turned his attention back to his locker. As he opened the door, he was met with the image of a photograph hanging on the inside.

It was a picture of you, a snapshot taken in the year 1864, the year you had become his beloved wife.

The sepia-toned photograph had faded with time, but the memories it held were as vivid as ever.

Harry's fingers traced a delicate path along the edges of the photograph, a gesture born out of love and longing.

He couldn't help but marvel at your image, at the way your eyes sparkled with joy and your smile radiates warmth. It was a portrait of a life that had once been filled with hope, dreams, and love.

He was transported back in time, to the days when the two of you had been inseparable. The image before him held the essence of the happiness you had shared, a happiness that had been taken from him too soon.

As he gazed at your face, he fought to hold back the tears that threatened to escape.

The wedding ring he still wore on his finger served as a constant reminder of the love that had transcended time and space. He had never taken it off, a symbol of his eternal devotion to you.

As he looked at the photograph, his heart ached with the weight of your absence, a pain that had not diminished over the years.

In the hushed stillness of the hallway, Harry found himself caught in a silent moment of reflection.

He knew that you were gone, that he could never hold you again in the same way, but the photograph served as a lifeline to the love and memories that continued to endure.

With great care, he closed the locker door, leaving the photograph of you hanging there. It was a bittersweet reminder of the life he had once known, the life that had been stolen from him.

You're seated in Zayn's car, the soothing hum of the engine merging with the rhythmic patterns of the road.

It's been four long hours of cruising from London to Manchester, a journey you've made year after year, a pilgrimage to Holmes Chapel.

The miles seem to stretch on endlessly, and your thoughts are a chaotic whirlwind, just as they always are on this annual trip. Memories, emotions, and longings intermingle, creating a storm within your mind.

Traffic comes and goes, a constant ebb and flow of vehicles on the motorway. The occasional slowdowns test your patience, but you find solace in the companionship of Zayn and the knowledge that the destination is worth the journey.

Zayn pulls the car to the side of the road, when the two of you are driving through the last bit of the journey, through a nice little down adjacent to Holmes Chapel, the two of you hadn’t fed before leaving.

Rookie mistake on your part.

And now, your mouth was dry and you desperately needed something to refresh it.

The oblivious passerby, a stranger to you, continues on their path, unknowingly approaching the enigmatic pair standing by the roadside.

In a carefully orchestrated dance, you and Zayn approach the passerby, a swift and silent exchange between predator and prey, and walk with him to a secluded alleyway.

The "snack" begins, a feeding that is essential for your survival. Your senses sharpen as you draw from your chosen source, the warmth of their life pulsing beneath their skin.

The passerby remains blissfully unaware, their consciousness undisturbed as you and Zayn fulfil your needs.

You both take only what you require, leaving no lasting harm, and then compel them to forget the encounter.

And so, you continue your journey.

The landscape outside the car window changes gradually as you travel. The urban sprawl of London gives way to the open countryside.

Fields stretch to the horizon, painted in shades of green and gold. It's a serene contrast to the chaotic thoughts that whirl within your mind.

The journey continues, and the passing scenery carries with it a sense of nostalgia. The familiar landmarks along the way bring back memories of years gone by, each one tinged with the bittersweet remembrance of the life you once shared with your beloved.

As you approach Holmes Chapel, your heart quickens, and the sense of longing intensifies. The town's quaint streets and charming houses feel like a trip back in time, a reminder of the life you once knew.

The car glides into Holmes Chapel, and you can almost hear the echoes of your past. The weight of your annual pilgrimage rests heavily upon your shoulders, a testament to the enduring love that has never dimmed.

Zayn expertly guided the car into the driveway of the house that had once belonged to your parents back in 1864.

It was a place steeped in history, a relic of a time long past, and it had become yours after your parents' passing in 1895, after sneaking back into the town and compelling your way to be the owner.

For nearly 130 years, this house had been a silent witness to your existence, a sanctuary where you and Zayn retreated to every year.

The exterior of the house retained the charm of another era. It was a grand Victorian home, adorned with intricate wooden details and gabled roofs. The red brick façade bore the marks of time, and the lush ivy that crept up the walls had woven its own stories.

The front garden was a riot of colour , with flowers in full bloom. The fragrant scent of roses, lilacs, and lavender filled the air, a testament to the diligent care you had taken to preserve the beauty of the landscape.

The path leading to the front door was lined with cobblestones, their edges softened by the passage of countless seasons.

As the car came to a stop, the familiar sight of the house, with its large bay windows and wrought-iron balconies, stirred a sense of nostalgia within you.

The years had passed, but the house remained a time capsule, preserving the memories of a bygone era.

You and Zayn stepped out of the car, and the front porch welcomed you with open arms. The old oak door, with its ornate brass knocker, felt like an old friend.

You had kept everything inside the house unchanged, maintaining the decor of another centuryc and wanting to keep your parents' memories alive. The rooms were filled with antique furniture, tapestries, and framed photographs of family members long gone.

The fireplace in the living room, where you and Zayn had shared countless conversations, was a focal point. The mantel held a collection of aged books and trinkets, each with its own story to tell. The ticking of an antique clock on the wall served as a reminder that time had, in some ways, stood still here.

The past clung to the house's very walls, an unspoken testament to the enduring love and memories that you had carried throughout the ages. As you stepped inside, the echoes of your footsteps were met with a quiet sense of reverence, a recognition of the bond you shared with this place.

Within the house, amidst the antique furnishings and treasured memories, there was a room that held a special place in your heart. It was a room where time seemed to stand still, a room that honoured both the past and the present.

On one wall, there hung a meticulously painted portrait of you and Harry on your wedding day in 1864. The image captured a moment of pure happiness, the two of you standing side by side, radiating love and promise.

The colours were vivid, as if the artist had painstakingly tried to preserve the very essence of that day.

Beside it, you had placed a modern touch, a photograph of you and Zayn. It was a selfie taken during a visit to the Colosseum in Rome, a few years ago.

The picture was a snapshot of friendship, of laughter and shared experiences, and it served as a tribute to the bond you and Zayn had forged over the centuries.

The juxtaposition of the two images on the same wall was a reflection of the passage of time, a reminder that love and connection endured even as life moved forward.

The painted portrait of your wedding day was a testament to the love that had once defined your existence, while the photograph of you and Zayn symbolised the friendship that had evolved to fill the void left by Harry's untimely departure.

It was the very same house where Harry had asked you on your first date, a memory etched into the very walls of the building.

The familiarity of the place had been the perfect backdrop for that special moment. It was here, within the walls of this house, that Harry had shown the first signs of his affections for you.

The room, adorned with vintage decor and an antique chandelier, had been bathed in the warm glow of candlelight, creating an atmosphere of intimacy and romance.

You stood in the modest kitchen of your family home, the warm and comforting heart of the house. The scent of freshly baked bread lingered in the air, mingling with the earthy aroma of the stew that simmered on the stove.

It was a simple yet fulfilling meal that you were preparing, a meal that would soon be shared by your mother, your father, and you.

The kitchen was a cosy space, with worn wooden counters and shelves lined with jars of preserved fruits and vegetables.

Sunlight streamed through the small, lace-curtained window, casting a soft, golden glow on the room. The sounds of your mother's apron softly brushing against her dress and the rhythmic chopping of vegetables filled the room.

You worked alongside your mother, your hands expertly kneading the dough for the bread. The flour dusted your fingers, creating a playful mess that made you both smile.

The warmth of the hearth, with its crackling fire, chased away the chill of the approaching winter.

The two of you shared a quiet understanding as you moved in synchrony, the bond between mother and child woven into the very fabric of the kitchen.

The wooden table, which had seen countless meals and conversations, stood as a witness to the love and care that went into each dish.

As you stirred the stew, the rich aroma filled your senses, a comforting reassurance that the family would soon be gathered around the table, sharing not only a meal but also the love and connection that made your home a sanctuary.

The rhythmic sound of chopping vegetables continued, the sharp knife slicing through them with precision.

The knock that sounded throughout the house was unexpected, and you glanced towards your mother as she wiped her flour-covered hands against the countertop, her footsteps echoing in the kitchen as she went to answer it.

You continued your culinary task, focused on the rhythmic motion of the knife, when your mother returned to the kitchen, a look of curiosity in her eyes.

"It's for you," she said, her voice carrying a hint of mystery.

She gestured towards the visitor waiting by the door, and you turned around to see Harry standing there.

Wiping your hands against your apron, you approached him, a smile spreading across your face. It was a pleasant surprise to see him, and you greeted him warmly. "Harry, what brings you here?"

He returned your smile, his eyes reflecting a mixture of excitement and sincerity. "I was wondering if I could talk to you, if possible.”

You nodded and led Harry into the living room, explaining to your mother that you'd be back soon.

With you leading Harry into the living room, you both found a quiet corner, away from the bustling sounds of the kitchen. He looked at you with a hint of anticipation, and after a brief pause, he spoke, his words soft and filled with sincerity.

“So what did you want to talk about?” You question, head tilted to the side as you toyed with the strings on your apron.

There was a pregnant pause before he began speaking.

Harry's voice trembled as he gathered the courage to speak.

"S’wondering if, um... would y’possibly like t’go on a date one day this week?" His words were hesitant, and his hands shook with nervousness.

You met his gaze, your heart warmed by his vulnerability.

A soft smile formed on your lips, and you replied, "Yes, Harry, I'd love to."

His eyes widened in pleasant surprise, but his hands still trembled from the jitters.

"Really?" he asked, seeking confirmation.

You could see the genuine nervousness in his eyes, and you decided to ease his worries.

With a gentle touch, you reached out, taking his hands into yours, your fingers gently entwining with his. His hands stilled under your reassuring touch.

You leaned in and pressed a tender kiss to his cheek.

"Definitely," you whispered, your words carrying a promise.

After a long day at school, Harry's footsteps carried him up the driveway of the house he had called home for so many years.

It was a place where memories of you still lingered, the house that you had lived in during your one year of marriage, an old Victorian house with an enduring charm.

The memories within those walls were a bittersweet comfort.

He had invited Niall over after school, a friend who had practically been a brother to him since they had met in the early 1900s.

Their friendship had grown strong over the years, and they shared a bond that transcended time.

As he approached the front of the house, he couldn't help but notice a car parked in the driveway of what had once been your parents' house.

It was a sight he had expected, knowing that someone would eventually move in.

He sighed and shook his head, the changes around him a reminder of the passage of time.

His fingers instinctively brushed against the wedding ring on his finger, His friends, Niall included, didn't question his marital status, as they were all privy to his secret.

They had secrets of their own, secrets that bound them together.

Penny, Logan, Daniel, Toby, Ricky – they were all werewolves, their fates intertwined with the lunar cycles.

And Brooke was a witch, her magic a well-guarded treasure.

Their supernatural natures were shared with an unspoken understanding, a bond that went beyond the boundaries of the ordinary.

As he entered the house, with Niall by his side, the memories of the past and the secrets of the present coexisted in the space around them

You sit alone in the garden, the air tinged with the scents of flowers and the distant echoes of life in the town.

Your journal rests open on your lap, and the inked words spill onto the pages as you reflect on the passing of time and the season that has come around once more.

It's that time of year again, the time when you return to the town that has brought you so much misery and yet holds a powerful grip on your heart.

The memories of days long past and the ache of what was lost permeate your thoughts.

The garden, once vibrant and filled with life, now stands as a silent testament to the years that have passed.

The flowers you once tended with care bloom without your touch, a reminder that life continues, even in the face of heartache.

The journal in your hands is a chronicle of your existence, the pages filled with the hopes, dreams, and heartaches that have defined your immortal life.

It is a mirror to your soul, a place where you pour out the emotions that you can never truly share with anyone else.

As the pen moves across the pages, the memories of the town come rushing back. The streets, the houses, and the people who once filled your life with joy and sorrow, they are all here, etched in the recesses of your mind.

As you sit in the garden, tears silently cascade down your cheeks. The memories and emotions of this time of year have caught up to you, and you're trying your best to keep your crying from alerting Zayn inside the house.

You wipe away the tears, but more continue to fall, a relentless stream of anguish.

You know that if Zayn hears you sniffling, he'll be out in an instant, concerned for your well-being. And while you appreciate his care, you're not ready to discuss the depth of your sorrow.

Just when it feels like your heart can't bear any more, you notice a presence at the fence of the house next door.

A boy with vibrant blue eyes and blonde hair is leaning over, peering at you with a curious expression. It's someone you've never seen before, and the sight of a stranger surprises you.

He tilts his head to the side and gently drums his fingers against the fence, a gesture of concern.

"Are you alright?" he asks, his voice soft and filled with empathy.

You hastily wipe away the evidence of your tears and give him a small, trembling smile.

"Yeah, just feeling a bit emotional today," you admit, not wanting to go into too much detail with someone you've just met.

Niall nods his head in understanding, his eyes reflecting kindness.

"I'm live opposite, I’m not breaking into someone’s house, promise, this is me mates house, if you ever want to talk," he offers, his sincerity evident in his words. "I'm a good listener, and sometimes sharing with a stranger can help."

You appreciate his gesture and nod in response, feeling a strange sense of comfort in the presence of this kind-hearted stranger.

As Niall walks away, you find yourself leaning against the tree once more, your heart a little lighter with the knowledge that there's someone nearby who is willing to lend an understanding ear.

You and Harry found yourselves in the shade of the very same tree you now sat under, the same oak tree that had watched over the passage of time.

The leaves rustled in the gentle breeze, and the sunlight filtered through, casting dappled patterns on the grass below.

You were nestled comfortably in the crook of Harry's arm, your head resting in his lap.

He held a book in one hand, the pages filled with words that transported you to far-off places and into the world of imagination.

Harry's voice was a soft, melodic cadence as he read aloud, each word falling from his lips like a soothing lullaby.

His free hand played with a strand of your hair, his touch gentle and affectionate. The strands of your hair slipped through his fingers like silk, and he couldn't help but smile as he continued to read.

As you lay there, the world around you faded into the background.

The characters from the book came to life in your mind, and the only reality that mattered was the bond you shared with Harry.

His voice, the rhythm of his breathing, and the touch of his hand were the only things that existed in that moment.

The two of you had shared many quiet afternoons like this, escaping into the world of literature and into each other's presence.

It was a sanctuary, a place where time seemed to stand still, and the troubles of the world could not reach you.

February 1, 2023.

The next day, as the sun broke through the morning clouds and painted the world outside in hues of gold, Harry entered his classroom.

The usually vibrant features that adorned his face had now transformed into a pale, tired countenance.

His exhaustion was palpable, and the faint shadows beneath his eyes bespoke of a restless night.

For Harry, the morning had not begun like that of his fellow classmates. He hadn't woken up to the smell of breakfast, nor had he enjoyed a hearty meal with his family.

Instead, he had reluctantly skipped his morning feed, a vital part of his daily routine. The reason was simple: he had to make an early visit to the hospital to replenish his supply of blood bags, a ritual he had kept hidden from the people around him, only his close friends knew.

As he stepped into the classroom, he hoped to remain unnoticed, to blend into the sea of students and escape their inquisitive glances.

They were unaware of the struggles he faced each day to maintain his facade of normalcy. They didn't know the secret he carried, the very essence of his existence as a creature of the night.

Mr. Addams, the teacher, was a kind and observant man who had developed a certain fondness for Harry.

As Harry entered, Mr. Addams couldn't help but notice the stark contrast between the bright morning sunlight and the dull pallor of Harry's skin.

Concern etched his features, and he couldn't ignore the evident weariness that clung to his student.

"Is everything okay, Harry?" Mr. Addams inquired, his voice laced with genuine worry.

His intuition was often a strength, and he couldn't ignore the visible signs of distress.

Harry's throat constricted, and he struggled to uphold the facade that he had carefully constructed.

"Jus’didn't get much sleep last night," he replied, his voice trembling as he stuck to his story.

He didn't want to reveal the true reason behind his tiredness, the missed morning feed, and the ensuing visit to the hospital to restock his supply of blood bags.

Mr. Addams, understanding and respecting Harry's privacy, nodded sympathetically.

"I hope you find some rest soon. If you need any help or have any questions, don't hesitate to ask," he offered, his words brimming with warmth and support.

Harry took a seat next to his friend, Daniel, whose knowing glance acknowledged the truth hidden beneath the surface.

Daniel was one of the few people who were privy to Harry's secret, and he leaned over, whispering softly, "You okay, mate? Need anything?"

Harry gave his friend a faint, grateful smile but shook his head, not wanting to involve Daniel further in his complex situation.

"I'll be fine, jus’a rough night," he murmured back.

After Mr. Addams had expressed his concern and Harry had responded with a somewhat convincing explanation, the teacher proceeded with the lesson.

He launched into the day's subject matter, his voice clear and engaging, filling the classroom with knowledge and enthusiasm.

Harry did his best to stay focused, his eyes fixed on the board as he diligently transcribed the notes.

With every stroke of the pen, he tried to divert his mind away from the gnawing hunger that simmered within him.

The lesson was essential, and he couldn't afford to let his cravings distract him from his studies, even though he had done the exact same lesson plenty of times before, he still liked to brush up on his knowledge.

As the minutes passed, the thirst grew more insistent, like a relentless drumbeat in the background.

Harry took frequent sips from his water bottle, the cool liquid helping to quell the ever-present desire. The sensation of quenching his thirst was a brief respite from the yearning for something more potent, for blood.

The classroom was filled with the rustle of paper and the scratch of pens on notebooks, the students engrossed in their work.

Harry, however, struggled to ignore the tantalising aroma of his classmates, the rhythmic beating of their hearts, and the temptation that surrounded him.

The battle within him was a quiet one, an internal struggle he had grown accustomed to over the years.

He knew that his need for blood could not be satisfied during the school day, and he was determined to endure until he could seek solace in the hospital.

In the midst of a history lesson, Mr. Addams posed a question to the class, inquiring if anyone knew the date of a particular historical event. There was a collective silence as the students exchanged glances, their minds drawing a blank.

Amid the hush that enveloped the classroom, Harry raised his hand, offering a tentative, “M’think I know, sir."

Mr. Addams, intrigued, nodded and invited Harry to share his answer.

Harry responded confidently, "The event y’referring t’happened in 1066, sir, the Battle of Hastings."

The teacher was impressed and decided to take it a step further.

"You have quite a knack for history, Harry," he remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice. "How about a quick quiz? Let's see if you can recall the years for a few more events."

With a twinkle of curiosity in his eye, Mr. Addams began to fire off random historical events, challenging Harry's memory and knowledge.

"The signing of the Magna Carta?"

"1215," Harry replied without hesitation.

"The American Declaration of Independence?"

"1776."

The classroom buzzed with admiration for Harry's extensive knowledge, and Mr. Addams continued to test him, event after event.

Harry answered each question with unwavering confidence and accuracy, displaying a remarkable understanding of history that fascinated both his classmates and teacher.

As Harry confidently and accurately answered each historical question, the class sat in collective astonishment.

Their eyes were wide, jaws slightly agape, as they gawked at him in disbelief. The room was filled with a sense of awe and wonder, a profound appreciation for the depth of Harry's knowledge.

Harry's classmates were left both amazed and somewhat envious of his remarkable grasp of history.

He sat there, a slight, knowing smirk gracing his lips, his expression a testament to the satisfaction he derived from outshining their expectations.

You walk into the kitchen, the scent of freshly brewed coffee wafting through the air. Zayn leans against the kitchen island, a cup of coffee in his hand, his morning ritual.

The sun filters through the windows, casting a warm glow over the room, making it the perfect morning to go for a run.

You're dressed in exercise leggings and a cropped sports bra, even though your body shape will never change.

It's a habit that makes you feel better about yourself, a semblance of normalcy in an otherwise extraordinary existence.

Zayn looks up as you enter, his gaze lingering on your attire.

"Morning," he greets, a hint of curiosity in his eyes.

You offer a warm smile and respond, "Hey. I thought I'd go for a run this morning."

He takes a sip of his coffee, nodding in understanding.

Zayn knows today is Harry's birthday, and he can sense that you're trying to distract yourself from the inevitable visit to Harry's grave. But he doesn't press the issue.

"Sounds like a good idea," he comments.

As you pour yourself a cup of coffee, Zayn leans against the island and says, "You know, it's okay to take some time for yourself today. If you want to go visit Harry's grave, I'll understand."

You appreciate his understanding and consider his words. "I know, Z. I just... I need this run right now. It helps clear my head."

He nods in agreement, his support unwavering. "Take all the time you need. I’ll be here when you get back."

You nod your head in response to Zayn's understanding and head toward the fruit bowl, where your AirPods are nestled among the colourful array of fruit.

You pick them up and slip them into your ears, the familiar feeling of music bringing you comfort and distraction.

Walking out of the kitchen and through the front door, you take a deep breath of the fresh morning air.

The sun shines brightly, casting long shadows on the path ahead. As you begin to jog, the rhythm of your steps aligns with the beat of the music, creating a comforting synchrony.

Your run takes you past the old streets you once walked along to get home, streets that have seen a world of change since 1864.

The buildings have evolved, and the town has grown in ways you could never have imagined back then.

Though the surroundings have transformed, the nostalgia lingers. Memories of a bygone era rush back, and you can't help but reminisce as you jog past familiar landmarks.

The echoes of time blend with the music in your ears, and it feels like a journey through the pages of history.

The town that you once knew so well is a blend of the past and present, a testament to the inexorable march of time.

Your run becomes a meditative experience, allowing you to process your emotions and escape from the complexities of the day.

As you continue your jog, the music in your AirPods becomes the soundtrack to your thoughts.

The collision with the girl was unexpected, and even though your enhanced hearing usually keeps you aware of your surroundings, the soothing melodies have drawn you into your own world.

Turning a corner, you suddenly collide with the girl, her ginger hair and freckles prominent features that catch your eye.

The impact is swift, and you quickly come to a halt, the surprise evident on your face.

You offer a quick apology, realising that the music in your ears prevented you from hearing her approach.

The girl, on the other hand, is struck by recognition.

Her gaze locks onto your face, and her freckled cheeks flush with a mix of surprise and nervousness. It's clear she recognizes you, but she remains silent, her words stumbling as she tries to regain her composure.

She stammers, "Oh, s-sorry, I didn't mean to... I mean, it was my fault too."

Her voice quivers with a hint of unease.

You appreciate her acknowledgment, and when you see her favoring one ankle, you instinctively reach out to steady her.

You grab her arm gently, preventing her from toppling over from the sudden collision. In this moment, you connect in a way that goes beyond words.

That's when something extraordinary occurs. As you hold onto her, your connection seems to transcend the physical realm.

A vision unexpectedly floods your mind, and you're pulled back in time to the year 1864.

Her ancestor was someone you once knew.

Your head tilts back, and you're briefly lost within the vision.

A chilling night had fallen over the quiet town. Your husband had been dragged from your shared bed, called upon to defend the town against an unexpected attack.

As you lay in the dark, the weight of the situation pressing down on you, you couldn't bear to stay inside.

Quietly, you slipped out of your house, the wooden door creaking softly as you closed it behind you.

The dim moonlight illuminated the cobblestone streets, casting eerie shadows as you began your walk.

You needed the solace of the night air, the stars above providing the only comfort in these tumultuous times.

As you strolled through the quiet town, you noticed a familiar face watching from a window of the house opposite yours.

Jane, a neighbour you knew well, had her gaze fixed on you, her expression a mix of curiosity and concern. She leaned out of the window and called out to you, her voice laced with worry.

"What are you doing, dear?" Jane's voice rang out in the still night.

You hesitated for a moment, her question hanging in the air. Then, you replied, "Just getting some fresh air."

Jane raised an eyebrow, scepticism written across her features. "Fresh air? When the town is under attack? You should be seeking shelter, not strolling the streets."

A sigh escaped your lips, your shoulders deflating under the weight of her words. You continued walking, ignoring her pleas for you to return to the safety of your home.

You choose not to reveal the contents of the vision to the girl.

Instead, you offer her a sheepish smile, releasing your grip on her arm, allowing her to regain her balance.

For a brief moment, you both stand there, the connection between you now a complex tapestry of unspoken understanding.

Your thoughts are filled with the vision you've just witnessed, and it lingers in your mind, a fragment of a distant past that somehow intertwines with the present.

With a polite nod and a brief farewell, you resume your jog.

You cast a final glance over your shoulder, curious to find the girl still standing there, her eyes following you.

As the bell for the end of the lesson rang, the classroom filled with the collective sound of chairs scraping against the floor and students shuffling in their seats.

Harry, like the rest of his classmates, gathered up his books and swiftly began to place them into his backpack.

The air in the room was filled with an anticipatory energy as students prepared to leave the classroom.

Harry's movements were efficient, his hands deftly organising his materials. He carefully slid his textbooks into the main compartment of his backpack, the pages neatly aligned. His notebooks followed suit, each fitting perfectly into their designated space.

With a practised ease, Harry zipped up his backpack, ensuring that everything was secure.

He slung the bag over his shoulder, feeling the weight of the books against his back.

As he stood up from his desk, he joined the stream of students heading for the exit, ready to move on to the next part of the day.

As the two friends, Harry and Logan, walked out of the classroom together, they joined the bustling flow of students in the hallway.

All around them, people were coming out of their own classes, talking and laughing as they headed to their lockers to prepare for the next lesson.

The school day was in full swing, and the energy in the hallway was palpable.

Logan, genuinely curious, turned to Harry. "Mate, what's the plan for your birthday tonight?"

Harry's response was a nonchalant shrug. "Not much, Lo. S’just another day, really."

Logan, determined to see his friend enjoy his special day, was relentless. "Come on, Haz, you can't just let it pass by like any other day."

Harry's smile was a mixture of sarcasm and resignation. "Logan, birthdays stopped mattering to me a long time ago."

Unwilling to give up, Logan clasped a hand on Harry's shoulder, his voice earnest. "We want to make it matter, Haz. We want to see you happy."

Harry let out a sigh, his gaze focused on the linoleum floor. "V’not been truly happy since 1864."

With genuine concern, Logan gave Harry's shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

He met his friend's eyes and spoke with conviction. "That's why we're having a small get-together at Chapel Grove later. We really want you to be there."

As they navigated the hallway's hustle and bustle, the invitation hung in the air, a chance for Harry to embrace a moment of joy and connection with his friends.

The vibrant energy of the school seemed to underscore the significance of the celebration, offering a glimmer of hope amid the weight of Harry's long, complex existence.

Harry, although deeply touched by his friend's determination, couldn't help but maintain a sense of reservation. "M’appreciate it, Lo, I really do. But birthdays ‘ave just become another reminder f’how much time ‘as passed."

Logan's expression softened with empathy as they reached the entrance to the boys' bathroom.

He leaned against the tiled wall, still focused on his friend. "We understand, Haz, but that doesn't mean we should stop celebrating your existence. You mean a lot to all of us."

Harry, while genuinely grateful for his friends' loyalty, couldn't help but express the unspoken burdens he bore. "Logan, y’guys mean the world t’me. I just... sometimes s’hard t’feel like I belong."

Logan nodded in understanding, offering a warm smile. "You'll always belong with us, mate. Your past doesn't define who you are now. We're your family."

Harry's eyes met Logan's, a complex blend of emotions within them. "I'll think about it, Lo. Maybe I'll stop by f’a little while."

Logan's face brightened with hope, and he clapped Harry on the shoulder. "That's all we're asking for, mate. It'll be good to see you there."

As they stood by their lockers and went about their business, the weight of the invitation and the potential for a night of camaraderie hung in the air.

Harry and Logan stood side by side at their lockers, an everyday occurrence in their high school lives.

The lockers were nestled close together, their shared space where they stored their books, sports equipment, and the remnants of their shared experiences.

Logan, while absentmindedly organising his books, couldn't help but steal glances at the photo Harry kept inside his locker.

His friend had positioned the photograph with utmost care, the image of you from a time long past.

He stared at the frozen moment in time, where happiness radiated from the smiles on both of your faces.

A sigh escaped Logan's lips as he realised the depth of Harry's love for you. It was a love that had spanned generations, enduring through hardships and transcending the boundaries of life and death.

Logan knew that your absence weighed heavily on Harry's heart, and he understood the profound sense of loss that his friend carried with him.

Harry, unaware of Logan's quiet reflection, continued to look at the photo, lost in his thoughts.

He traced his fingers over the image, his eyes filled with a longing that Logan knew all too well. It was in this moment, by their lockers, that Logan recognized the magnitude of Harry's enduring love for you.

A profound sadness settled over Logan as he realised that, perhaps, his friend might never truly find happiness again.

The love that bound Harry to you was a force of nature, a connection that had persisted through centuries and across lifetimes.

Logan couldn't help but wonder if anyone could truly fill the void left by your absence in Harry's life.

With a heavy heart, Logan closed his locker, the weight of his friend's unending love and the complex emotions it carried lingering in the air.

He was determined to be the support that Harry needed, but he also knew that some wounds were so deep that they might never fully heal.

Two weeks after you and Harry had exchanged your vows and embarked on your journey as a married couple, a photograph was taken that would forever capture the warmth of your love.

The setting was the quaint parlour room of your shared house, a cosy and intimate space where the walls bore witness to your growing bond.

Harry, the ever-doting husband, stood behind a large wooden camera, his steady hands adjusting the focus and angle.

He was a man of few words but abundant actions, and his choice to capture this moment was a testament to his enduring affection for you.

You, the picture of grace and elegance, sat on a plush, tufted sofa, your wedding attire still adorned as a symbol of the promises you'd made to each other.

Your eyes sparkled with the thrill of your new life together, and your radiant smile spoke volumes about the happiness that had taken root in your heart.

The room was bathed in soft, diffused light from the lace-curtained windows, casting a gentle glow upon your features.

The flickering flames in the fireplace added an inviting warmth to the scene, illuminating the tender connection you shared.

As Harry focused the camera and adjusted the settings, the two of you communicated without words, a silent understanding that transcended the need for speech.

The air was filled with love, tenderness, and a profound sense of commitment that emanated from the very core of your beings.

As the camera's shutter clicked and captured the image for posterity, you and Harry tried valiantly to maintain an air of stoicism, a facade of solemnity befitting a formal photograph.

But the sheer absurdity of the situation, sitting so still and holding expressions that were foreign to your otherwise joyful selves, proved too much to bear.

Your eyes met, and the spark of laughter that had been simmering beneath the surface suddenly bubbled up.

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and the restrained giggles escaped from both of you.

"Y’doing great, m’sun," Harry said, his voice laced with a hint of mirth.

Your response was a chuckle, the sound bursting forth like a long-held secret. "And you, my love, look positively dashing in your stern photographer pose."

Harry's own laughter joined yours, filling the room with a joyous sound that mirrored the happiness you both felt. The absurdity of the moment, the irony of trying to remain composed when you were anything but, was simply too amusing to resist.

"Alrigh’, one more time," Harry declared, his eyes crinkling with amusement as he prepared to take another shot.

You nodded, still unable to suppress your laughter.

It was a shared, spontaneous moment of pure delight, a testament to the deep connection you shared and the unwavering happiness that had bloomed in your hearts since the day you said "I do."

You walk into The Chapel Grove, your steps reluctant as Zayn had practically pulled you out of the house.

He insisted that you shouldn't be a loner, especially on a day like this. The town had seen so many changes over the years, and you had watched it all from the shadows.

As you step inside the cosy establishment, the familiar scent of aged wood and warm hearth greets you.

The patrons seated around the room, sipping on their drinks and engaging in quiet conversations, all turn their heads to look at the two of you.

Your arrival, so unexpected in a town that rarely saw newcomers, had drawn their attention.

Their stares bore into you, curious and contemplative. They weren't used to strangers in Holmes Chapel, especially those who had an air of mystery about them.

You can feel the weight of their collective gaze as you navigate the room, trying to remain composed despite the discomfort of being the centre of attention.

The ambiance of The Chapel Grove is timeless, much like the town itself. The worn wooden tables and antique décor create an atmosphere steeped in history, a place where stories were told and secrets were shared.

You can't help but feel like an intruder in a world that was so familiar to its regular patrons.

You turn to Zayn and offer a half-hearted smile, your voice low as you speak. "I just need to use the bathroom. I won't be long."

He nods in understanding, sensing your unease. "Take your time. I'll be right here."

As you step into the dimly lit bathroom, you immediately head for a stall, your hands trembling as you lock the door behind you.

The walls seem to close in around you, and the weight of the unfamiliar world outside becomes almost suffocating. In moments like these, you realise just how much you relied on your husband in the past to help you navigate such situations.

You sit on the closed toilet lid, attempting to regulate your emotions. The sound of your own breathing fills the small space, each inhale and exhale a reminder of the isolation you feel. It's not that you don't have Zayn; he's a dear friend and confidant.

But he's not Harry, the one person who could always get into your head and reassure you that everything would be okay.

The pressure of the unfamiliar world outside bears down on you, and your chest tightens with anxiety.

You remember how, in the past, you would lean into Harry's comforting presence, his calm words of reassurance soothing your troubled soul.

Now, you find yourself yearning for that same sense of security and understanding that only he could provide.

Your home was filled with tension. You and Harry had found yourselves entangled in a heated argument, the kind that made your hearts ache and your words sting.

"Harry, I hardly ever see you anymore," you lamented, your voice fraught with loneliness. "You're always cooped up in that office, and it feels like you've forgotten about me."

He shot back, his own voice rising in frustration, "Well, maybe I would ‘ave more time if I didn't ‘ave t’ come home t’constant nagging!"

The argument had been building for days, fueled by your sense of abandonment and his feeling of being trapped by responsibility.

Harry's harsh words were like a dagger through your heart, and he instantly regretted them when he saw your face pale.

His anger was replaced with regret, and he stammered, "I didn't mean that, (Y/N). M’jus’ overwhelmed lately, and I took it out on ye’. M’sorry."

But in that heated moment, you weren't ready to hear apologies. Hurt and vulnerable, you turned away, unable to hold back the tears.

His regret was genuine, but the pain was still raw.

As the argument reached its peak, his temper flared, and he stormed out of the living room, his heavy footsteps thudding up the stairs.

You, lost in the heat of the moment, believed he had gone outside, that he had actually left you, not realising he had gone upstairs.

"Harry!" you cried out, running to the door. But he was nowhere to be found, and the anguish of thinking he had left you alone in the house was almost unbearable.

As the echoes of the argument with Harry still resounded in your mind, you sank down onto the floor, your back against the wall.

Your heart raced, and panic set in, a suffocating sensation that tightened its grip on your chest.

The world around you seemed to blur, and your breaths grew rapid and shallow.

Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision, as the fear of Harry actually leaving overwhelmed you.

The room felt like it was closing in, and the walls seemed to press closer. It was the fear of abandonment, the thought of being left behind, that haunted your thoughts.

Every second felt like an eternity, as you clutched at your chest, trying to slow the pounding of your heart.

Your mind raced with scenarios, none of them comforting. The idea that he might never come back hung heavy in the air.

Your throat constricted, and your sobs grew more pronounced as you battled with the intensity of the panic attack. It was a storm of emotions that had been building over time, now unleashed in a torrent of tears and despair.

But deep down, a part of you still held on to hope, a hope that Harry's anger and frustration would pass, and he would come back to you. You clung to that hope, a flicker of light in the overwhelming darkness of your panic.

As you sat on the floor, vulnerable and scared, you whispered to yourself,

"He'll come back, he has to."

It was the lifeline you desperately needed in that moment of despair, the belief that your love was stronger than any argument.

In the throes of your panic attack, your trembling hands reached out, inadvertently knocking a small vase from a nearby table. The sound of shattering glass echoed in the room, intensifying your fear and confusion.

Upstairs, Harry had heard the crash, and his heart sank. He assumed you had escalated your anger to smashing things in frustration. He rushed downstairs, fear and worry gnawing at him.

Instead, the sight that met him was you, huddled on the floor, overwhelmed by your panic.

"God, S’happened?" Harry exclaimed, his initial worry turning into a desperate concern. He approached you cautiously, uncertain about the best way to help.

You, lost in your panic, barely noticed his arrival. Your voice trembled as you repeated, "Don't leave me, Harry. Please, don't leave me."

His heart ached at your words, and he knelt beside you, his voice gentle and reassuring. "M’right ‘ere, m’sun. M’not going anywhere. I promise. Y’safe."

But in the grip of your panic, it was hard to believe those words. You stared at him with wide, tear-filled eyes, as if questioning his presence.

"Look at me, (Y/N)," Harry implored, his voice unwavering. "M’not leaving ye’. We'll get through this together, okay? Just focus on y’breathing."

His hands gently touched your face, urging you to make eye contact with him. The warmth of his touch and the sincerity in his eyes began to break through the layers of your panic.

As you slowly locked eyes with him, his face came into focus, and the realisation that he was indeed there with you started to sink in.

"Harry?" you whispered, your voice still shaky.

He nodded, offering a small, reassuring smile. "S��right. M’right ‘ere."

With his comforting presence, the grip of panic began to loosen. Your breathing gradually steadied, and your sobs turned into quiet sniffles.

Harry continued to speak softly, "Y’doing great, (Y/N) Jus’keep taking deep breaths. M’not going anywhere, I promise."

As the minutes passed, the chaos in your mind began to subside. The shattered vase remained on the floor, forgotten for the moment, as your focus shifted to the security of Harry's embrace and the reassurance that he wasn't leaving you, not now, not ever.

Through whispered words and steady embraces, the panic attack slowly lost its grip, and the room filled with a sense of calm. You clung to Harry, grateful for his unwavering support during your darkest moments.

In the present moment, you snapped out of your daze, realising that you were still inside the bathroom.

You flushed the toilet, an attempt to cover the time you'd spent in silent reflection. The sound of rushing water filled the room momentarily.

Moving to the sink, you stared at your reflection in the dimly lit bathroom mirror. The exhaustion in your eyes was evident, a testament to the emotional turmoil you had experienced earlier.

It was a stark reminder of the weight of your past, a past that felt both distant and eternally present.

You turned on the tap, allowing the water to flow over your hands. The cool liquid was refreshing, and you splashed some onto your face, hoping it would wash away the lingering traces of anxiety and sadness.

It was a brief respite, a moment of self-care in a life that often felt too long.

As you dried your face, you couldn't ignore the gnawing hunger that had been growing within you. It was a reminder of your unending need for sustenance.

The reality of your existence as a creature of the night was undeniable, and your hunt for sustenance was a constant, ever-present part of your life.

You walked out of the dimly lit bathroom and made your way back to the bar where Zayn was still seated.

With a subtle nod, you leaned in close to him and muttered,

"I'm going outside for a smoke."

It was your secret code, a discreet way to convey that you were heading out to satisfy your unique appetite.

Zayn, who understood the hidden meaning behind your words, simply nodded in acknowledgment, concern etched in his expression.

He knew that this part of your existence was both a necessity and a burden, and he respected your privacy.

As you turned to leave, he called after you,

"What drink do you want?" His voice was gentle, and it carried an underlying understanding of your needs.

You paused, glancing back at him, a hint of gratitude in your eyes.

"Malibu and Coke," you replied, a hint of a smile tugging at your lips.

Zayn signalled to the bartender, ordering the drink you'd requested, before turning his attention back to the bar.

You stepped out of Chapel Grove, the warm afternoon sun casting long shadows on the street. Leaning against a nearby wall, you scanned the area, looking for the perfect taste tester.

The hunger gnawed at you, urging you to satisfy your insatiable appetite.

As you observed the passing crowd, your eyes fell on a perky girl with obviously dyed green hair. She seemed carefree and lost in her own world, the daylight concealing your supernatural nature. It was the perfect opportunity.

With quiet determination, you approached her, your eyes locking onto hers.

Compelling her to follow your commands, you exerted your supernatural influence, making her believe that following you was the most natural thing in the world.

Her gaze glazed over, and she nodded obediently as you led her away from the bustling street, into a secluded corner where no one would witness the act that was about to unfold.

In a soft, persuasive tone, you said, "Come with me. You trust me completely."

The girl replied in a trance, "I trust you completely."

In that quiet corner, you could feel your fangs elongate, your senses sharpening as the anticipation grew.

With a quick, fluid motion, you bit into her neck, and she murmured, "I trust you."

As you fed, your eyes closed in ecstasy, the taste of her blood unlike anything else. It was a mixture of fear and excitement, vulnerability and surrender.

It was a dark pleasure, a forbidden indulgence that coursed through your veins.

The girl in your grasp remained lost in a trance, her voice murmuring softly, "I trust you."

But even as you indulged in this dark act, a sense of guilt gnawed at the edges of your consciousness.

You were a creature of the night, bound by your need for blood, but it came at the cost of another's innocence.

Finally, you pulled away, your lips stained with crimson.

The girl remained in a trance, her memory clouded. She gazed at you, her voice still murmuring, "I trust you."

As you watched her stumble away, you felt the weight of your existence, the eternal struggle between your nature and your humanity.

The hunger had been momentarily sated, but the guilt and the darkness that came with it lingered, a constant reminder of the price you paid for immortality in the afternoon sun.

You headed back inside Chapel Grove and spotted Zayn seated at a table next to a group of high schoolers.

With a nod of acknowledgment, you walked over and took the seat opposite him. The dim lighting of the place masked the remnants of your recent escapade.

Zayn glanced at you, a knowing look in his eyes.

"How was your smoke?" he asked with a hint of amusement.

You let out a small laugh and picked up your drink.

"Oh, it hit the spot," you replied, taking a sip and savouring the familiar taste of your Malibu and Coke.

As you settled into the conversation, Zayn asked, "What's on your mind, my friend? Anything special you'd like to do when we get back to London?"

You leaned back in your chair, considering the options.

"Well, I've been thinking about that new art exhibition at the Tate Modern," you said thoughtfully. "I've heard it's incredible, and I wouldn't mind spending an afternoon exploring the world of art."

Zayn nodded, intrigued. "That sounds fantastic. Art has a way of stirring the soul. Anything else on your list?"

You tapped your fingers on the table, pondering. "How about a night at that jazz club we used to frequent? The live music there always hits the right notes."

Zayn's eyes sparkled with anticipation, and he smiled. "I'm in. A bit of jazz, good company, and some fine wine. It's a perfect plan."

You paused for a moment and then said, "Actually, I was thinking, what if we took a little holiday? Maybe Spain? It's meant to be really nice this time of year."

Zayn's eyes widened in excitement. "Spain? That sounds incredible! I'm in immediately. A holiday is just what we need."

As the conversation about Spain continued, you both delved into the details of the trip. The destinations, the activities, the relaxation.

Planning a getaway rekindled a sense of adventure that had been somewhat dormant.

"I've always wanted to explore the historic streets of Seville," you mentioned. "And then there's the beauty of Barcelona, the beaches in Costa del Sol, and the vibrant culture of Madrid."

Zayn nodded eagerly. "All of that sounds amazing. Let's make sure to experience it all. It's been too long since we had a proper adventure."

Zayn mentioned, "We should also talk about when you'd like to visit the grave."

You glanced at your watch and replied, "I'll head there right after this. It's his birthday, and I want to pay my respects."

Zayn had been trying his best to be a comforting presence for you, offering distractions and support as you dealt with the emotional weight of the day. He brought you out for a quick drink to help you focus on something other than the memories of your late husband's birthday.

Zayn nodded, understanding the significance of the day. "Of course, I'll be here if you need anything. Just take your time, and when you're ready, you can head over to the grave."

He never came with you, he always wanted you to go by yourself, so the two of you could have a moment together.

You offered a small, grateful smile. "Thank you, Z. Your support means the world to me."

As you continued your conversation, you took comfort in the presence of your friend, appreciating how he had been trying to distract you from the weight of your late husband's birthday. The evening offered a brief respite from the emotions that had been haunting you.

As you engaged in conversation with Zayn about your upcoming plans, you couldn't help but notice the group of high schoolers at the adjacent table.

Their curious glances and hushed whispers did not go unnoticed, thanks to your keen vampire hearing. You exchanged a quick, amused look with Zayn, acknowledging the attention.

The teenagers were clearly intrigued by your presence, and their chatter focused on you, not Zayn. Your enhanced senses allowed you to catch snippets of their conversation.

They speculated about your age, your appearance, and what might have brought you to Chapel Grove.

Zayn, who was well aware of the situation, tried to steer the conversation back to your holiday plans. However, you couldn't help but be amused by the curiosity of the young onlookers.

You exchanged a playful grin with Zayn and decided to let them wonder a bit longer.

As the group of high schoolers continued to whisper and speculate about you, their curious glances and hushed remarks grew increasingly irritating. You were trying to enjoy your evening out and discuss your plans with Zayn, and their relentless scrutiny was getting on your nerves.

Feeling the frustration building, you couldn't help but let out a small, exasperated sigh. You turned your attention toward them and asked with a hint of annoyance, "Is there something you're all looking at?"

For a moment, they remained silent, their expressions frozen in surprise. It was only when you glanced closer that you recognized one of the girls – the same ginger-haired one you had accidentally bumped into during your run earlier in the day.

A hush fell over their group as they realised you had noticed their focus. It didn't take long for you to piece together the reason behind their stares.

They recognized you from the picture of you in Harry's house, the same photo that they had seen when visiting with Harry.

You sighed and rolled your eyes, unimpressed by their attention.

You exchanged a knowing look with Zayn, who had been aware of the situation all along. It was clear that these young locals had discovered your connection to Harry and were now watching you with a mix of curiosity and recognition.

With a final, dismissive glance at the group, you decided it was time to leave. Downing the remainder of your drink, you stood up from the table, Zayn following suit.

You didn't want to engage with strangers who were more interested in your past than the enjoyable evening you had planned.

Together, you and Zayn walked out of Chapel Grove, leaving the high schoolers behind in their hushed discussions.

Walking away from the restaurant, you were deep in conversation about your plans for the future, oblivious to the door on the other side of the establishment.

On the other side of the door, Harry and Niall entered the restaurant, their timing almost perfectly synchronised.

Harry, had been hesitant about going out in, but Niall had convinced him to join for a brief visit.

If he had arrived just a second earlier, your paths would have crossed, and you would have seen each other.

Harry made his way to the table where his friends were gathered, the anticipation of their usual camaraderie evident on his face.

He looked forward to spending his evening with his closest companions, especially on his birthday, he may have been reluctant to come but now that he was here he was in the celebrating spirit.

As he approached the table, however, he immediately sensed that something was amiss. The atmosphere was heavy with tension, and his friends' expressions were not as cheerful as he had expected.

Harry stood next to Toby, a sense of unease gnawing at him.

Normally, on his birthday, they would greet him with cheerful exclamations of "Happy Birthday!" and share a toast in his honour.

But this time, there was a palpable awkwardness in the air, as if they were all tiptoeing around a subject they were hesitant to broach.

Harry couldn't help but feel that there was something unsaid, a looming question that hung in the air.

Harry's growing impatience was evident as he looked around at his friends, who all appeared rather sheepish.

He couldn't understand why their usual camaraderie had taken such an awkward turn on his birthday.

His curiosity and concern had reached a tipping point, and he finally blurted out, "S’the matter, guys? S’everyone acting so strange tonight?"

A silence settled over the table, and Harry's friends exchanged hesitant glances.

Growing increasingly impatient and concerned about his friends' strange behavior, Harry couldn't contain himself any longer.

He leaned forward, looked at each of them, and asked once more, "Seriously, S’wrong, guys? Y’acting like something big s’going on. Y’can't keep m’in the dark like this."

The awkward silence at the table continued, and his friends exchanged nervous glances. Harry was determined to get to the bottom of this sudden change in atmosphere, and he wasn't going to let it ruin what was supposed to be a celebratory evening.

The girl in their group who Harry was closest to, Penny, apart from Niall and Logan, finally broke the silence.

She met Harry's gaze with a mixture of sympathy and apprehension. She took a deep breath and said, "Harry, you might want to sit down for this."

Harry's heart began to race as he listened to her words. His friends had always been open and supportive, and this sudden change in their demeanour had him genuinely worried. He quickly found an empty seat, his mind racing with all the possible scenarios for the unexpected revelation that was about to come.

She chose her words carefully, looking into Harry's eyes, and said, "Harry, something... something has come up, and it's not easy for us to say. It's about... well, it's about her."

Penny continued, her voice trembling with a mix of confusion and concern, "Harry, we were sitting at the table right next to ours, and we're one hundred percent sure it was her. Everyone here recognized her, and there's no mistaking it."

Harry's confusion deepened, and he shook his head in disbelief. He exhaled heavily and said, "S’impossible, Pen. She... she died over a hundred years ago. S’no way it could ‘ave been ‘er sitting there."

The news was so baffling and contradictory to everything he knew that Harry couldn't wrap his mind around it. He looked at his friends, hoping they would provide some clarification or a reasonable explanation for the impossible scenario they were describing.

Penny saw the disbelief in Harry's eyes and realized that her words were hard to digest. She took a deep breath and elaborated further, "Harry, I know it sounds impossible, but we're all certain. She was sitting there, just a few feet away. It was her face, her eyes... Even the way she moved, it was like... like you were seeing a ghost."

The gravity of the situation began to sink in for Harry, and he leaned in, his brow furrowing as he asked, "Y’absolutely sure it was ‘er? S’no way it could ‘ave been someone who jus’ looks remarkably like ‘er?"

Penny nodded, her voice resolute, "Harry, I wish it was that simple, but there's no mistaking it. It was her. The way she looked, her expressions, everything. It was as if she'd walked straight out of the past and into this bar. "

Harry couldn't deny the unease that crept over him. It defied all logic and reason. The love of his life had died over a century ago, and now, he was confronted with the inexplicable notion that she had reappeared in this world.

Brooke let out a heavy sigh and further perplexed Harry by adding, "I even saw her earlier today on my way to school. She was jogging, and I accidentally bumped into her. She probably didn't even notice me, but it was definitely her."

Harry's confusion deepened even more. The last time he had been in your presence was when he had silently entered your bedroom, a week after his "death," to see you one last time before leaving for good.

The circumstances surrounding their separation had been heartbreaking, and the notion of seeing you once more was something he could never have expected.

He ran his fingers through his hair, feeling a mixture of emotions swirling within him. The situation was surreal, and he couldn't fathom how you could possibly be here, in this town, in this century.

With silent steps, he entered your bedroom, and there you were, asleep, lost in dreams that he could never share with you again. Harry approached your bed, his heart heavy, and sat down on the edge. He gazed upon your peaceful face, the face he had once woken up to every morning.

In a hushed voice, he began to speak to your sleeping form, as if you could hear him in your dreams.

"M’wish I could hold y’one more time, m’sun," he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. "M’wish I could tell y’how much I love ‘ye and how much it pains m’t’leave. But this is the only way, the only way t’protect ‘ye."

He reached out and tenderly brushed a strand of hair from your face, his fingers tracing the contours of your features, memorizing every detail. "Y’the most beautiful thing in m’life, and I'll carry y’with me in m’heart, always. I just hope you can find happiness and peace without me."

He continued to pour out his heart, knowing this would be the last time he could express his love for you. "M’never thought I'd have t’say goodbye like this, m’dearest. But I promise, even though M’not by y’side, I'll always watch over ‘ye, protect y’from the shadows, and love y’with all m’being."

The room was bathed in a soft, warm glow from the moonlight filtering through the curtains.

Harry's voice was barely above a whisper as he confessed, "I wish we could have had more time together, more days f’laughter, and more nights f’love. But fate ‘as different plans, and I must follow s’path."

He traced the outline of your lips with his fingertip, almost expecting a response, a sign that you could hear his words in your dreams. "I'll carry the memory of y’smile with me, and I'll cherish every moment we spent together, every stolen kiss, and every shared secret."

Tears welled up in his eyes, threatening to spill onto your pillow. "I don't know when, or if, we'll ever meet again, but know that I'll be waiting for that day. Until then, m’sun, be happy, be safe, and know that y’were the best part of m’life."

Harry leaned down, his lips brushing against your forehead once more, as he whispered his final goodbye. "Goodbye, m’sun. I'll always love ‘ye, no matter where I am or what time separates us."

With that, he silently left the room, leaving you to your dreams, unaware of his tearful farewell.

Harry couldn't help but feel a surge of agitation. He turned to Brooke, his expression a mix of confusion and frustration, and asked, "Y’were with me at lunch, and y’didn't even mention anything? Y’knew it was her, and y’kept it to yourself?"

Brooke shifted uncomfortably in her seat, realizing the implications of her silence. She stammered, "I... I didn't know what to say. It was just so bizarre. I mean, how could it be her, right?"

Harry ran a hand through his hair, trying to wrap his head around the situation. "Brooke, she's supposed t’be long gone, over a century ago. If S’really ‘er, I need to find out how this is possible. I need to know."

He couldn't hide the urgency in his voice.

Ricky spoke up, "I did see her wearing a wedding ring. Toby's right; there's a high chance that it was her. If you want to find her, you'll likely find her at the cemetery."

Harry's heart raced, his emotions spiralling into chaos. The thought of seeing you, after all these years, overwhelmed him. He knew he needed to find you, but the uncertainty of what to say or how you would react left him paralyzed.

Toby's voice was gentle as he offered his advice. "Harry, if it's really her, just tell her that you love her. She must have so many questions as well, and love is a good place to start."

Harry nodded, his mind a whirlwind of emotions and doubts.

As Niall returned with the drinks, Harry's face was a mix of turmoil and disbelief. Without a word, he abruptly pushed his chair back and bolted from the table.

His friends watched in surprise as he dashed out of The Chapel Grove, leaving them all bewildered.

Niall’s eyes widened and his mouth was agape as he stared at his friends body that had just ran out of the door.

Penny let out a heavy sigh and leaned back in her chair. "It's a long story,"

You walk through the ornate iron gates of the cemetery, your steps slow and measured, as if each one carries the weight of a lifetime.

In your hand, you cradle a bouquet of geraniums, their vivid hues contrasting with the sombre surroundings.

These were Harry's favourite flowers, the ones you picked for him on your very first date all those years ago.

The geraniums are fresh, plucked from your garden this very morning. For 159 years, you've nurtured these vibrant blooms, tending to them year-round.

They've become a symbol of your love, a living reminder of the bond you shared.

And every time you visit this place, they grace his final resting place, an offering of love from a heart that can never forget.

The graveyard is serene, bathed in a soft, golden glow of the setting sun. The world seems to stand still here, as if time itself hesitates to intrude on the sacredness of this space.

Your presence here is a ritual, a pilgrimage to the past that you continue year after year.

The gravestones stand tall and silent, each one a marker of stories untold. As you navigate the narrow paths, you eventually reach the familiar spot, marked by a weathered headstone.

The engraved letters spell out his name and the years he walked this Earth.

𝙸𝙽 𝙼𝙴𝙼𝙾𝚁𝚈

𝙾𝙵

𝙷𝙰𝚁𝚁𝚈 𝙴𝙳𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙳 𝚂𝚃𝚈𝙻𝙴𝚂

𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝙳𝙴𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙴𝙳 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙻𝙸𝙵𝙴

𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝟸𝟻. 𝚂𝙴𝙿𝚃𝙴𝙼𝙱𝙴𝚁 𝟷𝟾𝟼𝟺.

𝙰𝙶𝙴𝙳 𝟷𝟾 𝚈𝙴𝙰𝚁𝚂.

𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚂𝙾𝙽 𝙾𝙵 𝙳𝙴𝚂𝙼𝙾𝙽𝙳 𝙰𝙽𝙳

𝙰𝙽𝙽𝙴 𝚂𝚃𝚈𝙻𝙴𝚂,

𝙷𝚄𝚂𝙱𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙾𝙵 (𝚈/𝙽).

Standing before his grave, your emotions surge like a relentless tide.

The floodgates of grief open, and tears well up in your eyes, betraying the ache in your heart. The weight of memories and longing bears down on you, just as it does every year when you come here.

The tombstone before you remains steadfast, an enduring monument to the love you once shared.

The chiselled letters and numbers on the stone serve as a stark reminder of time's passage, a relentless march that has left you on this side of the grave.

The world around you fades into insignificance, and it's just you and the memory of him.

His laughter, his smile, the touch of his hand, they all come flooding back, as vivid and poignant as if they happened yesterday.

The breeze stirs the flowers in your hand, the geraniums swaying gently as if to offer solace. In this sacred space, you're allowed to mourn, to let your grief wash over you like a cleansing rain, purging the pain of his absence.

You stand before his grave, your voice quivering as you whisper, "Happy birthday, Harry."

Although, he wasn’t just Harry to her.

He was her sunshine, her darling boy, her angel sent from heaven, he was her everything and more.

The words hang in the air, heavy with emotion. The bouquet of geraniums trembles in your hands as you continue, the tears welling up in your eyes.

"I miss you more with each passing day," you confess, your voice choked with sorrow. "Every moment, every heartbeat, it's all filled with thoughts of you."

The weight of your grief becomes palpable, pressing down on you as you speak to the headstone before you.

"Life moves on, but I can't help but feel stuck in this moment, in this longing for you," you admit, the tears streaming down your cheeks. "There's a void in my heart that will never be filled. It's as if you took a piece of me with you, and it can never be replaced."

As you share your feelings, you feel a connection to him, as if he can hear your words from beyond.

It's a bittersweet solace, knowing that even though he's gone, you can still speak to him, even if only in your heart.

With your birthday wishes and your confessions hanging in the air, you take a deep breath, as if sharing your pain has lightened the burden, if only just a little.

Your voice trembles with emotion as you share your words, tears streaming down your face.

"I miss you more with each passing day," you manage to say before your voice breaks, your sobbing making it impossible to continue.

The weight of your grief bears down on you, and you lean forward to place the geraniums gently on his grave.

With your fingers, you press a loving kiss to his name engraved on the stone.

It's a silent declaration of your undying love and an unspoken promise that, even in death, you will remain connected.

The sobs shake your body, and you find solace in the simple act of being here, in this moment of remembrance.

The cemetery is quiet, and your heartache reverberates through the stillness.

Harry's heart raced as he sprinted through the gates of the cemetery.

His friends had told him you'd be here, and he couldn't bear the thought of missing the chance to see you.

He kept his pace steady, not wanting to draw any unwanted attention.

The graves of countless people passed by him as he ran, their stories and lives unknown to him. The cemetery was a place of quiet reflection, a sanctuary for the departed, but today it held a special significance for him.

His mind raced with a whirlwind of emotions. He didn't know what to expect when he saw you, and the uncertainty gnawed at him.

He had fantasised this moment countless times.

As Harry ran past the silent graves, his mind was filled with thoughts of what he might say to you. He pondered on the possibility that you might be there, that this wasn't a dream or a figment of his imagination.

What if you were really there?

His heart raced with a mixture of hope and trepidation.

After all, he hadn't seen you in over a century, and time had changed them both in many ways.

He wondered if you would recognize him, if you'd even remember the promise he had made to you all those years ago.

The weight of his emotions pressed on him, but he couldn't afford to hesitate. He was determined to reach you and, if it truly was you, to let you know that he was here, that he had come back to the place where it all began.

With each step, his resolve grew stronger, and he whispered to himself the words he had rehearsed for this moment, words of love and longing, words he hoped would reach you if you were indeed there.

Harry came to a stop a few metres behind you, his heart aching as he saw your shoulders shake with the weight of your grief.

He watched in silence, as you stood in front of his grave.

Your tears fell freely as you whispered words of love and longing, words that were meant for him but felt distant and unreachable.

His own emotions swirled within him, an overwhelming mix of joy at seeing you and pain at the knowledge that he couldn't comfort you in the way he wanted to.

“(Y/N)?”

Harry couldn't contain his overwhelming desire to reach out to you any longer. He called out your name, his voice trembling with a mix of love and sorrow.

But when you heard your name on the wind, you froze, your heart pounding in your chest.

A part of you wanted to believe it was real, that Harry was truly here, but another part feared that it might be a cruel trick of your imagination, a manifestation of your grief.

Your feet felt heavy as you dared not turn around, as if doing so might shatter the fragile hope that had ignited within you.

At the sound of his voice calling your name, you snapped your head around, not daring to believe your ears.

And there he was, standing just a few metres away, tears glistening in his eyes as he looked at you with an intensity that reached deep into your soul.

The shock, the joy, the disbelief, all of it hit you like a tidal wave, and your legs could no longer support your quivering body.

You sank to your knees on the dirt-covered ground of the cemetery, your heart pounding as tears flowed freely from your eyes.

It was a moment of pure, unadulterated emotion, as you wept tears of joy and sorrow, the pain of separation, and the sheer happiness of seeing him again.

The second he saw you crumble to your knees, his heart ached in sympathy, and without a second thought, he surged toward you with the swiftness of a vampire.

He wrapped his arms around you as you both sat on the gritty cemetery ground. His arms held you with the same tenderness and longing he'd felt for hundreds of years, as if he was never willing to let you go again.

Both of you were now shedding tears, the emotions too overwhelming to contain.

As you wept, you inhaled the familiar scent of vanilla that had always clung to him, and he, in turn, breathed in your delicate lavender scent, a fragrance etched into his memory.

The world around you faded into obscurity, and the reality of your reunion enveloped you like a protective cocoon. It was a moment of reconnection, an embrace that transcended time itself.

You didn't need words to express the depth of your feelings; the tears streaming from your eyes were eloquent enough.

Harry's hand gently cradled your cheek, his thumb brushing away your tears as if to erase the years of sorrow that had separated you.

You leaned into his touch, absorbing the warmth and reassurance it offered.

You and Harry sat in the very same spot that was now a cemetery. Back then, it had been a lush flower field, vibrant colours stretching as far as the eye could see.

You'd decided to celebrate your first wedding anniversary amid this picturesque beauty. It was the perfect setting for a picnic, and the Geraniums you'd gathered were scattered around you.

Sitting side by side, you were dressed in a white lace dress, your hair crowned with a simple wreath of wildflowers.

Harry, in his best suit, looked at you with the same adoration he held in his eyes now, though both of you were just a year into your marriage.

Amid the colourful blooms, you shared a simple meal, strawberries and a loaf of bread. You fed each other, laughing at the sweetness of the berries, your hands touching with affection.

The bright sun bathed you in a warm, golden glow. You leaned against Harry's shoulder as he read poetry to you. The verses sounded like music as they filled the air, mingling with the scent of the wildflowers that surrounded you.

Harry's hand played with a strand of your hair as he recited lines of love. The gentle touch and the softness of your laughter mingled with the harmonious symphony of your hearts.

You marvelled at your incredible fortune in having found such a deep connection, an everlasting love.

Harry took your hand in his and looked into your eyes with a loving smile.

"Y’know," he began, his voice tender, "M’can't wait f’the day we start a family f’our own."

Your heart skipped a beat at the thought of children, and your eyes sparkled with excitement. "Oh, H, I can't wait either. I imagine our children playing in fields like this, laughing, and picking flowers."

Harry's thumb gently brushed against your hand as he nodded. "And I can see us growing old together, watching them grow and flourish."

You shared a dreamy smile, leaning in closer. "I can't imagine a more beautiful future, Harry. I just want us to always be together, no matter what life throws our way."

He pulled you into a warm, affectionate embrace. "Together, forever. We'll build our family, create our memories, and keep celebrating our love."

Harry's fingers gently toyed with a strand of your hair.

Your tears still fell, the overwhelming emotions of the past colliding with the present.

With a trembling voice, Harry asked, "Are y’real?"

You nodded your head against his, your tears landing on his shoulder as silent sobs racked your body.

Harry dared not let his thoughts drift too far. Instead, he reached for your left hand, his fingers gently brushing over your wedding ring, a small smile tugging at his lips.

The familiar band, a symbol of your love, was still there, as if time had stood still.

You, in turn, took his left hand, your thumb tracing the contours of his wedding ring.

The smooth metal beneath your touch was a testament to the love you shared, a love that had transcended the boundaries of time.

Harry's gaze never wavered from your tear-filled eyes. The years apart had only deepened the connection between you. He gently whispered,

"Can I kiss ‘ye?"

You let out a tender sniffle, the raw emotions still swirling within you.

With a soft smile, you wrapped your arms around his neck, drawing him closer.

He leaned in, and as your lips met, it was as if the world had melted away.

The kiss was a testament to the love that time had only fortified.

Your heart swelled as the moment lingered, filled with warmth and affection. In that simple yet profound gesture, you both found solace and a renewed sense of hope.

Time had played its tricks, but love had prevailed.

The two of you shared a soft, tender kiss, surrounded by the serenity of the cemetery and the golden leaves that fluttered around you.

“M’love you, m’sun.”

That nickname. The only pet name he had ever called you, it was a nickname only you would allow him to call you.

You were his sun, and he was your light.

You played with the peach fuzz at the back of his neck, locking eyes with his green eyes that you had wished to see for 178 years.

And now that has finally come true, the puzzle pieces of your heart had finally been fixed and you felt like you could finally breath again.

“I love you, my light, always and forever.”

Your love really was A Love Beyond Time.

298 notes · View notes

moonlightndaydreams · 10 months

Text

Body Language

NSFW // minors do not interact

Pairing: Lee Minho x female reader

Genre: strangers to lovers // romance and smut

Word count: 5.2k approx. mostly spicy smut 🌶️

Story: whilst attending a gathering at Felix’s apartment, you meet his new housemate, Minho. You don’t speak Korean, and Minho knows very little English, but somehow he understands exactly what you need.

Warnings: mentions of physical disability (reader has a hand impairment and wears a leg brace), anxiety and body image issues. Smut warnings below.

Note from Sorsha: This is my first piece where I talk about disability and body image issues. A person’s experience of living with disability is unique to them. I’m not implying that all people with disability experience anxiety or self-consciousness around their disability. But I do personally live with a physical disability and can only draw from my own experiences. Unfortunately my experience doesn’t include having hot sex with Minho 😫

Smut Warnings: unprotected piv sex (pull out method 🫣), oral sex (f. Rec), nipple play, aftercare.

I hope that even if you don’t have lived experience of disability that you still read this story as I think the character will still resonate with many of you.

Love you, and enjoy xxx

—————��———

You take a deep breath as you approach the door of your friend’s apartment and ring the doorbell. While you wait for an answer, You look down at your chosen outfit. A White floral print on duck egg blue background ensemble of a tight tank top and matching maxi skirt. The skirt has a split up the front of one leg, your “good” leg. You always seem to refer to that leg as your “good” one. It isn’t even all that good, it just works better than the other leg. The one with the leg brace. No heels for you, but you’re sporting you favourite white sneakers. You run your hands over the fabric, satisfied with how you look today. You look great, and this party is going to be fine. You tell yourself.

But as you wait for the door to open, you can hear many voices from the inside of the apartment, and it makes you feel sick.

It isn’t the leg brace that makes you self-conscious, or that your balance isn’t so good. You actually “embrace the brace” because it is a tool to help you do what you want and need to do. It’s your hands that are the problem. No one can really see anything is wrong, not unless they look closely and really pay attention. But they hold you back from interacting with the world the way you want. Your impairment makes fine motor tasks near impossible. You can’t even undo buttons to save your life. And writing, well that went down hill at some point in the last three years, and you can barely fill out a form these days. Not being able to play guitar anymore is pretty shit too.

But your biggest anxiety inducing situation is eating in front of strangers. Cutting up food is awkward, holding finger food is risky for the floor and your clothes, and fucking hell, if chopsticks are involved you’re doomed to starve.

You are anxious. You hadn't anticipated how anxious you were going to feel when you told Felix you’d come to celebrate his promotion. But of course Felix didn’t quite know the full extent of the dread that filled your body whenever you had to be in a “dining” setting. You’d confided in him about your fears and anxiety somewhat, and he’d promised that it would all be okay and you could use anything that would help.

“It’ll be just a small gathering, y/n.” He’d smiled at you, and you couldn’t bring yourself to say no. You didn’t want to say no.

And now here you are, at your friend’s. You have turned up. You haven’t bailed.

But you you want to run away. No. You will stay, even if you don’t get to eat.

“Y/n!!!” Felix beams at you as he opens the door. “Come in, love.” He steps to the side allowing you to enter the apartment. Sure enough there are a dozen or so people already mingling and chatting. Music was playing from a Bluetooth speaker over on the right.

“Are you feeling, okay?” Felix whispers in close to your ear, and you nod and swallow hard. You’re not really okay. You tell yourself that nothing bad is going to happen. That no one is even going to care, and as you find a place to sit and take in your surroundings, you realise no one is even looking at you. See, it’s fine. This isn’t that bad. You are okay. You don’t recognise anyone, they seem to be Felix’s work friends, whereas you are his childhood friend, but after about ten minutes of polite hellos, and introductions, you begin to feel your nerves settle just a little bit.

“Y/n, want a drink?” You look up to see Felix offering you a can of soft drink. You nod and your eyes flicker to the man standing beside him. A man you have never seen before. This must be Felix’s friend from Korea. From what Felix had said previously, he has moved here for a while for work and study. What is his name again?

“This is Minho.” Felix gestures to the man standing nervously beside him. Minho. “Hello, Minho. I’m y/n.” You smile. But Minho simply nods curtly, barely making any eye contact with you.

“He’s nervous. He doesn’t speak much English yet.” he chuckles and opens the can of drink for you before passing it to you. You use every ounce of concentration to grasp the can securely, hoping to god you don’t drop it and spill it everywhere. Satisfied you have got a good hold on the can, you look up to find Minho has disappeared.

“Oh, he’s gone?” You say surprised.

“He’s just gone to start bringing the food out. He loves cook-”

“Lix!” A voice from across the room cuts him off.

“Excuse me for a sec.” Felix pats you on the shoulder as he walks away in the direction of the voice.

Minho returns the room shortly after with trays of what looks to be various finger foods, and begins to place them on the coffee table and dining table that has been set up to the side of the living room. Mini pizzas, fried chicken pieces, some type of vegetarian situation, and several other awkward looking foods that you were not planning to attempt to eat. Although, it all looks absolutely scrumptious. You feel your stomach rumble and you regret not filling up on food beforehand.

You watch the other people pick some food and use flimsy napkins as plates. It looks so easy for them, and you feel a pang of jealousy. Stop that now. You tell yourself. How can you solve this problem? You need an actual plate, and maybe a coffee mug to have another drink in, you think, looking at your tight grip around the now empty can. You look around the room and see Minho standing to the side watching the positive reaction to the food. Everyone is absolutely loving it. You look back at Minho again and catch his gaze on you. He looks at you quizically and then turns to go back into the kitchen. Fuck! You must look like a stuck up bitch.

Okay, let’s go find a plate and a fork, and a cup, or you’re just going to miss out on eating altogether. All you need to do is get up and go to the kitchen. This is always how your internal dialogue goes. You need to plan in your mind how you are going to navigate your surroundings. Are there any obstacles you need to work your way around? Which is your quickest route?

You enter the kitchen surprised to see Minho still working away chopping food, even though there is already plenty of food in the living room. Your eyes drift over his frame, and you’re surprised by the flushed feeling in your cheeks. He is attractive. Felix had mentioned he was a dancer with a passion for cooking. Hmm.. yes he definitely has a dancer’s body. You can tell his thighs are toned from the way his trousers cling to them. You bite your lip as you eyes follow his thighs up to his taught ass and you bite down even harder on your lip. Fuck. Stop looking at him, you tell yourself. You quickly lift your gaze to his upper half, his thin cotton button down draping over his back muscles. And his arm. Fuck! You can’t stop staring at the veins in his forearm as he chops a tomato.

You are suddenly brought out of your not-so-innocent thoughts when the knife in his hand stills. Shit. You quickly remember why you came in to the kitchen in the first place, and open the overhead cupboard to fetch a mug, and opening the fridge to see what beverage options there are.

Your breath catches in your chest when out of nowhere, a veiny hand grabs onto the fridge door, opening it further and reaching in to grab two cans of soft drink. You step out of the way to give the owner of the hand room, only to find Minho standing there with a Sprite in one hand and a Coke in the other, holding them both up to you in a way that could only mean he’s asking you to choose one. But all you do is stare blankly at this gorgeous man in front of you.

Minho nods his head, gesturing for you to take one. Fuck his eyes are captivating. You reach out to choose the coke, but instead of him handing it to you, he takes both cans to the counter and places a second mug down next to yours. You watch him, intrigued, as he opens both cans - one handed - and fills the mugs part way with the drinks. You take a step closer, wrapping your hand around the handle of the mug of coke, and tentatively make eye contact with him again. “Thank you.” You whisper. He nods shyly in return and mumbles a “your welcome.” Then gets back to what he was working on.

You don’t move. You barely breathe. This can’t take your eyes off of him. You are sure he can feel your eyes on him too, because his movements are little stiffer, more hesitant than when you first walked into the kitchen and he didn’t know you were there. You wondered if you were making him nervous.

He takes two plates and begins to arrange much of the same food he’d taken out to the gathering earlier. Mini pizzas, fried chicken, but also a little salad on the side. Then he proceeds to cut up everything up into bite size pieces. On both plates. What is he doing? You are intrigued. To finish off, he gets two forks out of the cutlery drawer and takes both plates over to the little two seater table in the opposite corner of the kitchen. And then he’s brushing past you to take the two mugs of soft drink, setting them down with the two plates of food.

When he is done, he looks at you expectantly. You are unsure what is happening. His gaze alternates between the little table and you. “Eat with me?” He says carefully. Wait. What? You glance at the plates on the table. This is for you? “You want me to eat with you?” You double check, even though you’re not sure how much he understands. He nods with a smile and sits himself down in one of the chairs.

Slowly, you make your way to the other chair and nervously sit down opposite him. You can’t help but chuckle to yourself. The plates of food, all chopped up small, coupled with the cold drinks in what one would normally drink a hot beverage from, looks exactly how you set up your own dinner. At home, you have a special knife to cut your food up and you make a mental note to start keeping it in your handbag. But are you allowed to carry knives around like that?

“You don’t like?” Minho breaks your thoughts again.

“Yes… No… I mean I do like.” You say and stab your fork in a piece of chicken and pop it into your mouth. Your eyes almost bulge out of your head. “Oh my god, Minho!” You say with your mouth full. “This is delicious!” You cry. “Yum!”

Minho smirks, a satisfied look on his beautiful face. “Yummy?” He asks. You nod frantically. “So good. Yummy.” You grin back, before going in for more food.

Minho digs in too, and as you both fall even more silent than you had already been so far, you wonder why Minho hasn’t joined the others in the other room. Maybe he’s shy? Maybe he’s unsure because of the language barrier? But he seems so confident, and you imagined that if he were surrounded by his people he’d be boisterous and maybe even a little obnoxious. He has that look about him. Devious. As you place the last bit of food into your mouth, you realise that you hadn’t even thought about your anxiety for a while. Minho, a complete stranger, has made your dining experience one of the least stressful in a long time. And you hadn’t even had to explain anything to him. Felix must have mentioned something to him, you decide. How else could he have known what you needed?

You look up and give Minho the biggest, most thankful and authentic smile. “Thank you, Minho. That was so fucking good.” His eyes blink rapidly at your use of the word fucking, and he quickly breaks eye contact, and a look of confusion crosses his face. His cheeks turn a shade of pink. Hmm, so he knows that word?

“There you two are!” You both look up startled as Felix enters the kitchen and crouches down beside you both. He scans the empty plates and peeks into your coffee mug curiously.

“Thank you Felix.” You say, but he looks confused. “For what, love?”

“Letting Minho know my challenges…you know, with food.”

“Honey, I never told him anything.” He shrugs. “But I probably should have. Fuck, I’m a shit friend, I didn’t even see if you needed anything.” He scratches his head. “Anyway, I came to tell you that we are all heading into town now. Are you going to come?”

You glance at Minho who seems to be pretending to be interested in how his Sprite looks swirling around his mug, and then you look back at Felix. He shakes his head “Minho already told me he won’t be coming out.”

Oh. You take a moment to consider how your night would pan out if you went out with the group. It would most likely be fun, although your feet would hate you in the morning. A night out is extremely tiring. You cast your eyes around the kitchen. There are plates, pans, rubbish absolutely everywhere, and who knows what state the living room is in? If Minho was left here on his own, you were positive he’ll clean it all up himself.

“No, I think I’ll just stay here. Help tidy up.” You say brightly. Felix raises his eyebrows and looks to Minho and says something to him in Korean. You watch Minho as his eyes widen and when blink rapidly as he shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Eventually he meets your eyes and offers one polite nod. You nod in return, like you have both just agreed on something important, and you feel a nervousness in your stomach. Or is the feeling something else?

“Well,” Felix stands up. “I may or may not be back before dawn. If you want to crash here tonight, y/n, you know you are more than welcome, right?” He gives you a hug and then hugs Minho. They exchange a few more words, and you are sure Felix has just teased Minho, because Minho suddenly raises his voice in a loud “Ya!” making you jump, and play punches Felix in the arm. “Okay, okay. I’m going.” He laughs as he leaves you and Minho alone once more.

———

After the group has left, and after Minho cuts you a second piece of cheesecake, you watch him begin the mammoth task of cleaning up. The place feels so silent, apart from Minho pottering around collecting plates. You retrieve a garbage bag from the third drawer down in the kitchen, because you know where everything lives at Felix’s, and go about the apartment collecting any rubbish. You aren’t really sure how much help you’re going to be, but thankfully most people had only used napkins and canned drinks, so most of the washing up wasn’t the breakable kind. Pots, pans, and cooking utensils mostly, and you find you are managing quite alright with putting those away in their homes.

Once everything was relatively tidy again, you dim the kitchen lights a little, because your eyes are tired, and set to work filling up the kettle. “Minho, would like a coffee?” you gesture to the jar of instant coffee. His eyes light up. “Mmm, coffee. Yes…please.” He smiles. “Okay, great.” You chirp spooning out the coffee and open the fridge for milk. Again, just like before, Minho’s veiny arm grabs the fridge door. But instead of grabbing the milk, like you expect, he closes the door and gently grasps your arm and turns you so your back is against the bench. The gesture is soft and gentle, not aggressive or demanding, and it makes your breath stop. Your hands grip the countertop on either side of you, trying to steady yourself in this unexpected situation. He is standing directly in front of you, close, and there is nowhere for you to avert your eyes. He swallows hard and stares into your eyes questioningly. You open your mouth to speak but you don’t know what to say. It doesn’t matter though, because Minho speaks first.

“Thank you.” He whispers. You aren’t entirely sure what he is thanking you for, but you assume he means helping him tidy up. “For eating with me.”

Your heart absolutely melts. Who is this man? “You’re welcome.” You choke, staring back at him just as intently. His brown, almond eyes convey a myriad of emotions. Nervousness, desperation, hope, desire. His eyes flicker down to your lips, then lower as he takes a really good look at your body, before returning to your lips. Then his eyes drop to one of your hands. He reaches for it, closing the gap between the two of you in the process, and brings your hand to his lips. You are caught off guard at this gesture. You don’t really like bringing attention to your hands, and having Minho deliberately tending to them makes you feel exposed. You try and pull away, but Minho just brings your fingertips back to his lips and proceeds to kiss the backs of each of your digits. Slowly. One by one.

You suck in your lower lip, both frightened and aroused in equal measure. He lowers your arm down to your side, but still holds your hand securely, and he brings his other arm to rest on your hip.

“This? Okay?” he asks, trying to guage your reaction to his touch. You nod. That’s all you can do.

You feel a heat wash over your body, and you know you are blushing. The butterflies in your stomach flutter around and there is an unmistakable ache in your core. You bring your free hand to rest on his bicep, and you bravely pull him closer to you. He reads this gesture as invitation to lean in closer to you. His eyes still linger on your lips, and his warm breath on your skin makes you quiver.

“This? Okay too?” he whispers in a husky voice, sending shock waves straight to your cunt. “Yes” you squeak and Minho chuckles low before turning serious again. The silence in the room suddenly feels excruciatingly loud as Minho pauses, centimetres from your lips, and it feels like you’re frozen in time. His lips brush yours in a featherlight kiss. It is barely even a kiss, but it feels more intense and passionate than any other “first kiss” you’ve had. He pulls away slightly, only to come back in with more intensity. He let’s go of your hand and cups your jaw instead, pulling you in towards him. You part your lips in the hopes he will explore you with his tongue, and he immediately does.

You feel yourself losing your balance slightly and grip onto Minho tighter. He slides his hands around to the back of your thighs and lifts you effortlessly setting you down on the counter. He breaks the kiss, panting and out of breath, and leans his forehead on yours to compose himself. You rest one hand on the back of his head, your fingers threaded through his dark brown locks.

Once he’s composed himself, Minho suddenly drops to his knees in front of you, taking you by surprise. You watch in anticipation as he very slowly, and very intentionally, lifts your skirt and drapes the fabric over your knees. You feel a surge of embarrassment and want to hide, and you berate yourself for how easily all that hard work of “self-acceptance” has come undone in a single moment. You force yourself to look down at Minho to find he has a hand resting on the velcro fastening of your leg brace, and he is looking up at you waiting. “This? Okay?” he repeats the same sentence as before as his fingers undo the strap a fraction. You nod. “Yes, it’s okay.”

You watch Minho’s expression intently, trying to catch any glimmer of disgust, or worse, pity, but you see none of that from the man at your feet. He carefully removes your brace and shoe, placing it carefully on the floor. Then he removes your other shoe and places that neatly beside the first. Next, he peels off your socks.

You have never felt so exposed in your entire life as you do right now. But as Minho starts to kiss and caress your calves as he makes his way back up to standing, you realise he is captivated by you. And as he pushes your knees apart to makes space for him to come in close to you, you feel that he is indeed very aroused by you too. It makes you hungry for him, and you reach up to the buttons on his shirt. There is no way you can undo these yourself, but it’s okay because Minho’s hand is there and he unbuttons his shirt swiftly with one hand while you watch in awe. You help him slide the shirt off his shoulders and it drops to the floor. Minho hurries to peel your top off over your head, discarding it carelessly. He is focused on only one thing now, the clasp of your simple cotton t-shirt bra, and he undoes it like a pro. You raise your eyebrow at him, suspicious as to why he is so skilled at undressing. But he just smirks and let’s your bra fall away.

He immediately takes a nipple in his mouth and cups your other breast. You arch your back into him and hum a “yes, Minho, yes.” He moans in reply and you rake your hands through his hair, panting as he rolls his tongue over your hardened nipple.

“Minho? Your bedroom? Hmmm…” you moan. “Bed?” You throw the words around hoping he understands. He lifts his head to look at you and you nod your head towards the hallway where the bedrooms are.

He wastes no time lifting you off the counter and you automatically wrap your legs around his waist. He devours your lips with his as he carries you to towards his bedroom, stopping on the way to press you against the wall in the hallway. You moan again, and throw your head back while he hisses as he grinds his hardness against your clothed cunt. Your body is craving his, and you would absolutely let him fuck you right then and there against the wall if he wanted to.

He pulls you away from the wall, biting and sucking the skin on your neck as he carries you to his room and carefully lays you on his bed. He continues to kiss you, alternating between your mouth and breasts, like he can’t decide what to settle on.

His kisses slowly move lower down your body, peppering your stomach until he reaches the waistband of your skirt. He lifts his gaze to check in with you yet again, and you nod your head, giving him permission to remove your skirt, leaving you only in your pale lavender cotton briefs. Minho’s face hovers incredibly close to where you’re aching to be touched. He hums in approval as he traces a finger over the wet patch of your underwear and brushes it over your clit, watching the fabric cling to your lips as he does so. You suck in a breath at the sensation. He smirks, satisfied with your response, then rubs his finger over your clit again. “Fuck!” you cry out. He locks eyes on you while he rubs a little harder. You furrow your brows and beg him with your eyes to remove your panties.

He peels your underwear off and you let your legs fall open for him, offering yourself to him completely. He doesn’t go straight for your cunt, but tenderly kisses your inner thighs and slowly makes his way to your centre. He knows, he has to know, what this is doing you. How wet, how soaked you are. How much you need him inside of you. “Minho, please.” You sob his name. He replies by licking a stripe from your entrance to you clit. Your hands fling to his hair, holding him against you, and he stops his teasing. He’s on a mission to take you to the stars.

His tongue slips inside you while his fingers finds your clit again. You are barely holding on by a thread as he expertly tongue-fucks you. And then he swaps, bringing his fingers to your entrance and tongue to your clit. He crooks his fingers, somehow knowing exactly where that spot is. You whimper, cry out, moan, almost choke on air, as he digs into that spot over and over, and his tongue laps at your clit in some kind of synchronised dance. It’s relentless, and you can feel the tightness inside you about to - “Oh…Ohh…I’m…I’m coming.” You cry as your orgasm surprises you. It is fast and intense, and you feel your walls clenching and releasing rhythmically.

Minho lifts his head, his eyes glimmering with satisfaction and his lips and chin glistening with your arousal. He takes a good look at your pussy, before quickly discarding his trousers. Your eyes widen when they land on his hard cock. Mouthwatering. Veiny like his arms. Fucking perfect. You don’t take your eyes off of it, and you lick your lips when you see pre-cum leaking from the pinkish tip. Minho kneels between your legs, and you prop yourself up on your elbows to watch him rub the tip along your lips. Your vagina clenches in desperation to be stretched and filled. You swallow and look up at Minho. His gaze is fixated on the tip of his cock as it pushes against you and threatens to slip inside. His eyes are hooded and full of desire, his lips are parted, perhaps in awe. Then he looks up, catching your gaze, asking for permission. He needs to be inside you. You can tell because he looks like he is absolutely going to die if he doesn’t fuck you soon. But there is also hesitation in his eyes. You know he doesn’t want to hurt you or take advantage of you.

Your reach up and cup his cheek and nod your head. Then you reach down and grasp his length, relishing in how hard he feels in your hand, and you feel like a fucking goddess when his body shudders in some sort of primal way. You let go of his cock and return to leaning on both your elbows. He crashes down on top of you kissing you, transferring your juices from his mouth to yours. And then you feel it, his thick, hard cock stretching you open. He holds your face close to his, keeping eye contact as he slowly stretches you, sinking deeper and deeper inside of your body. He mutters something in Korean, and it turns you on beyond belief. You know he notices your body’s response to the way he’s speaking, because he continues to say things, watching your reaction. Even though he you can’t understand him, his tone is gorgeous, and your body doesn’t care what he is saying. It’s just responding.

Your bodies are sweaty, your cunt wet and noisy, and with each thrust a loud slapping sound resonates in the room. Minho’s noises become a mixture of Korean words, grunts, hisses, and even growls, as he builds the pace, and it only turns you on more. You respond with your own moans and whimpers, crying out every time his cock kisses your cervix.

Sweat drips off his nose, and lands on you as he repositions himself slightly so he can watch his cock fuck in and out of you, all whilst still moving his hips expertly, finding that spot again.

Watching Minho watch himself fucking you is the most stunning thing you’ve ever seen. He is concentrating so hard on chasing both his and your pleasure. He’s so precise in his movements. Careful. Controlled. Measured. But you want him to lose himself to the moment. You want him to forget himself.

Without thinking, you reach up and tap him on the shoulder. He stops immediately and his eyes widen with worry as he tries to work out what is wrong. You pat your hand on the mattress beside you, indicating you want him to lay down. He does as you ask and you throw your leg over to straddle him. He grins up at you and you can’t help but grin back. He holds your hip with one hand, helping you lift up enough for him to guide his cock back to your entrance with his other hand. You both exhale in relief when he is snuggly back inside.

Minho waits for you to take the lead, and you experimentally grind your hips. The angle feels incredible. He is so deep inside you, your bodies flush with each other. Minho helps you set a steady rhythm and pace by guiding your hips back and forth along his length, and you are on the brink of your second orgasm. You sob at how good he feels inside of you and lean down onto Minho’s chest where he holds you close. He digs his heels into the mattress and begins to brutally snap his hips up into you. The force of each thrust takes your breath away and you come hard around his cock, crying out his name. You finally feel Minho snap and he somehow has you on your back again. You hold onto his shoulders as he knocks the breath out of you with each forceful thrust. And then he pulls out of you moaning as he paints hot ropes of cum all over your stomach. He collapses on top of you panting trying to catch his breath, neither of you caring in the slightest about the stickiness between your bodies.

Eventually your breath returns to normal, and Minho slips off the bed and pulls on a pair of sweatpants. He disappears out of the room only to return with a warm cloth, a mug of water and the items of clothing you had left in the kitchen. Somehow he is able to hold everything at once. You watch him clean you up and offer you the drink. You gulp it down, not realising how thirsty you are while he goes to his chest of drawers to retrieve an oversized t-shirt for you to wear.

He leans in to kiss you. “This… this was okay?” he asks softly. You nod. “Yes.” And he grins sheepishly, pulling you down beside him and curling up behind you whispering words in Korean as you fall asleep.

—————

A/n: I had someone ask me since writing this how LK knew what reader needed. I suppose I wanted to tap into Minho being rather observant of other people’s needs (and I didn’t convey that well), or maybe Felix did say something to him afterall? I will leave it up to you to decide how you want Minho to know her needs.

Xxx. Sorsha

@channieandhisgoonsquad @chansmanda @antoniorhinothethird @queen-in-the-shadows @queenmea604 @lyramundana @2chopsticks2eyes @noellllslut @its-hannjisung @thatonenoona @ddyskz @bethanysnow @weareapackofstrays

#skz smut #skz fanfic #lee minho x reader #lee know x y/n #pwd #disabled reader #Lee know x reader language barrier #sorshas fic

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seosracha · 2 years

Text

CUPID'S ARROW! lee heeseung x f!reader

SYNOPSIS-> you and heeseung, the schools hot topic and archer, have always despised one another. ruining each other's presentations, tripping each other in the hallways- you name it. so when the boy stops tormenting you due to his new girlfriend, you realize maybe you wanted him more than you thought you did.

PAIRING-> lee heeseung x fem!reader

GENRE-> enemies to lovers, highschool au, fluff, a little bit of angst maybe?!:!:??' oneshot

WORDCOUNT-> 9k ! (hello ?)

AUTHORS NOTE-> in honor of my favorite libra i decided to comeback🤗 if this flops im leaving again Okiiiii Purr👌 this took me 5 years By The Way. I dont even remember if i had a perm taglist Hel! Update i found itReblogs are greatly appreciated let your favourite enha tumblr senior pop off

PERM TAGLIST-> @bubblytaetae @qghosty @viagumi @artstaeh @bigtoewinwin @strwberrydinosaur @enhacolor @rendezrei @shinsou-rii @notrosemary

The school's atmosphere was always bustling, you and your small friend group never felt like outsiders in these rusty walls. Graduation was right around the corner and as much as it should have been a good thing, you felt as if a huge part of your life will be taken away from you. Instead you'll receive a piece of paper for the countless sleepless nights and mental breakdowns. You wondered where all the time between freshman year and the last months of senior year had gone.

Niki. He was with you since birth, or at least you liked to believe that. It was the perfect cliche, next door neighbor and family best friend born on the same day. You always called him a walking red flag for the numerous times he'd do something against the norms. It was small things like pouring his milk first or more concerning instincts where he’d tie his shoes before actually getting into them. He’d defend himself with the barrier of time saving, but you doubted it was even true. But aside the weird things he’d do, the true him was a sunny and caring person. He liked the feeling that making people happy gave him. He put the people closest to him before himself. In Conclusion, he had a heart of gold but a brain full of air.

Jungwon. It has always been hard for you to give a coherent depiction of his personality. Every first of the month he became a new person. In September he made ‘deez nuts’ jokes but as soon as october came they were old and cringe. His confusing being made Jungwon an interesting and alluring person. Although he changed his identity every month or so, his heart and kind nature never changed. He was your personal 911, under the phone for every small inconvenience or big downfall. You loved every part of him and would never trade the clumsy boy for anyone else.

Yunjin. She was outgoing and so talkative it was almost impossible not to fall asleep during one of her storytimes. In freshman year you told her to befriend the school's most envied girl, Miyoung. The moment you almost lost her to the shit person Miyoung was, you realized how much your friendship really meant to you. Yunjin was stubborn so it took you a lot of courage to confront her about the problem. She also pulled the swim team's captain, Jake . Most people envied her for the bond she shared with him, some wondered how these two people even got together in the first place. It was true. Yunjin was nothing like Jake, but maybe her true self was the reason she fit so well into the mold he gave her.

You all assumed the entirety of your small town was or is in this school. The people were welcoming and talked until their tongues went dry. You all internally agreed on making the most out of the time spent in school before going on with the miserable life this town was offering.

The only exception was Lee Heeseung.

He tried to make your life miserable even before graduating. One dirty look could make you shut off for the entirety of the next period on your time table. And if that wasn’t enough he’d try to ruin everything good you had left of that day. Sometimes he’d leave you alone, just to make you believe it was all over. Those days always felt like the rain before the storm. He was nothing but a full of himself asshole who rode off of academic success and school popularity. Girls admired him for his archery achievements and tall, sporty figure.

It was hard to tell exactly where it had all started, the competitiveness and hatred he shared towards you. How did sitting together at lunch, or attending his competitions turn into something so disastrous and sad.

Perhaps it was the track you both took up, and had to compete against each other in. Or maybe your final results that topped his. On the other hand it could've been the brief relationship between you and his best friend, Park Sunghoon. But you’d rather believe it's just pure jealousy. You were always better than him in everything except that pointless arrow shooting he cherished so much. No one performed as well as him in archery so maybe that was the reason he liked to rub it in your face every chance he got.

You got to know him from both sides, and sometimes you’d deny the fact you missed him before he got brainwashed by the meaningless highschool fame.

“It’s eight, right?” Heeseung asked, pen pointing towards the answer in the middle of all his scribbles.

His glasses were constantly sliding off his nose, as he used all the brain power left after the tiring school day to solve his algebra homework. The numbers started to look all the same, and he wondered if x was a number or the problem he had to solve.

“I got 4” you said and he sighed.

His head hung low as he scribbled over the answer once again. Heeseung’s eyes traced over the equation, looking for the moment he made a mistake. He looked disappointed, and you felt bad for being the smarter one at that moment. It’s not like you corrected him to boost your own ego.

“How do you do it? Why do you always get the right answer?”he asked quietly, embarrassed with himself.

You had wondered yourself. Why did you always have the right answer to everything and algebra equations? It came to you naturally, and you never thought of it as something others didn’t possess.

“Show me your paper, Heeseung, '' you asked politely. His wrought hand slid the paper towards you, avoiding any eye contact. “2608 divided by 652 isn’t 8”you pointed to the set of numbers.

He said nothing, just wrote down his final answer on the spot under the question on his work sheet.

A beat of silence came in the library, and you just noticed how quiet it has gotten. Usually the small whispers of other students caught your ear, but now it felt as if you two were the only ones in this modest room. Your eyes trace the study desks and contrary to your belief, all of them were packed with groups of students studying. Some were deeply focused on their literature assignments or chemistry homework, others rather spoil the learning process for the rest.

“I think I’ll just give up. This is pointless” Heeseung murmured, packing his things back into the emptiness of his backpack.

“If you give up now, later it’ll be even harder for you. We’re only in freshman year” you said, grabbing onto his hand.

It was cold, and you felt the feeling of failure radiate off of him.

“Heeseung, I believe in you, I promise. Let’s just finish this and I’ll reward you with some dinner after this. How does that sound?”you sounded like a mom, but he didn’t seem to care.

A smile briefly decorated his face, as he brought the black backpack back up to his chest to pull out the worksheet once again. He grabbed a pen from your pencil case without asking, and continued to focus on the next question.

“I think that sounds nice,” he answered in a moment of comforting silence.

The thought of that day brought you back to the memory of the Heeseung you learned to like.

///

“Oh c'mon I have no money!” Jungwon said cuddling up to Niki.

Niki’s lunch plate was full of delicious food and the most random items the school's cafeteria offered. He looked at Jungwon and just slapped his hand away, pushing a handful of chips into his mouth. To show off probably. Jungwon sighed and moved onto his next target.

“What about you Y/nnie? I’m so hungry, can you hear my stomach rumbling?” he questioned giving you puppy eyes. You just scoffed and slid your extra sandwich towards him.

He squealed in excitement, and took the smallest bite, savoring the treasure in his hands. Niki just shook his head, and kept on eating what his plate gave him.

“I thought we agreed on sabotaging Jungwon every lunch?”he commented, and Jungwon glared at him confused.

“What do you mean by that?”he asked, concerned for himself, and his empty wallet that accompanied him to every lunch period.

“Where is Yunjin?” Niki asked, dogging the older boy's question.

Jungwon just sighed and finished whatever he had left of the sandwich in his hands.

“With Jake, I’m not sure,” you replied.

“They're probably making out under the bleachers again. I mean it’s summer time” Jungwon said, wiping his fingers on the soft material of his pants.

Every summer time, Jake and Yunjin would be caught under the bleachers of the football field. They’d usually get detention, and continue it there. All of you saw it as their little tradition, as disgusting as it was. The bleachers reeked of the most disgusting smell, probably not being thoroughly washed since they were built.

Jake seemed like the typical player type, full of himself, and way too proud of his athletic achievements, but he was the complete opposite. He liked to hide away in the depths of the school, never interrupted class with the stupid jokes boys his kind made, and loved small gestures people directed towards him. Jake liked Yunjins company because she brought out the best in him. She brought him to heights he's never seen, and that is not in a sexual context only. People didn’t envy her for being with Jake, but rather for being the missing piece in his puzzle.

“We should go to the football game next week!” Jungwon asserted excitedly at the thought of Yunjins and Jake's tradition.

“Isn't that something straight people like doing?” Niki snorted.

He didn’t see anything special in seeing the boys of this highschool compete against some other highschool nearby. He had a point though, our school is going to lose either way.

“I thought you and Sunoo were friends?” you said, remembering Kim Sunoo was a famous quarterback. He was tall, really attractive and actually looked decent on the field with all that gear.

Even you found yourself crushing on him in the beginning of sophomore year. He had a charming aura that you wanted to get to know better. It obviously didn’t work after he indirectly rejected you. Looking back at it now, you aren't sure what went through your mind.

“Well my friendship with him doesn’t mean I care enough to watch him throw a ball around” Niki shrugged.

It was hot and dry, the sun peeked through the large windows. It hit your back, warming you in a not so comfortable way.

“I could really get a cold water right now” you sighed and looked over to Niki who despite having an overflowing plate, didn’t possess any drink at all.

You regretted voicing your inner thoughts as the chair behind you jerked. It was like you could predict the future when Heeseung’s tall figure covered the boiling sun that spread through your back.

“You want something to drink, Y/nnie?” Heeseung said and you could feel his eyes burning a hole on the back of your head.

His arms extended to grab the Sprite off his table. Sunghoons hand stopped him.

“Leave her alone dude” he said calmly.

Jay and Sunghoon have grown tired of Heeseung’s childish antics. They knew he had absolutely no reason to keep on making you miserable. They’ve called him out on it countless times, but he doesn’t seem to care at all.

“And what if I don’t? You’re not her boyfriend anymore”he whispered and groped the drink in his hand.

He turned back to you smiling, your body was already facing his, a look on your face he knew well. It was you signalizing you knew what was coming. It’s not like he hasn’t pulled this ‘prank’ at least forty times this year.

“Back to you. What about a Sprite, hm?”he said with a sly smile.

“Can you just leave me alone, seriously?” you said, unfazed by his dominant act “You already spilled coffee on me last week, Heeseung”you added and he chuckled.

“Yeah I did, and it was fucking awesome” he said twirling the can in his hand.

You felt the fizzling liquid quickly move on from your freshly washed hair to your forehead and along the length of your shoulders. You felt sticky, and disgusting. Heeseung laughed, probably being the only one who found the incident funny.

The chair jerked once again, and Sunghoon stood up pushing Heeseung away from you. He took the tissues from the pocket in his jacket and handed them to you.

“You don’t have to help me, you know?” you said avoiding eye contact. Sunghoon shrugged.

“This is the least I can do to make up for having an annoying and childish friend”he mutters, but the admission alone was enough to calm your heart.

Your warm hand trembles slightly as you grab the tissues from him. You wiped whatever you could off your face, and put the wet hair into a messy ponytail. Words leap at the tip of your tongue as you hold back everything in you to keep yourself from wrestling Heeseung to the floor.

“I think we need to talk, Heeseung” you say and he calms his laughter down.

“For what? No need to waste anymore time on you today” he laughs and gives you that dumb face you hate.

You exhale yet another breath of annoyance “I don’t think you have anything better to do, if this is the peak of your day”

“I do, right Sunghoon?” he asks, hoping to get the answer he wanted but Sunghoon stays quiet, observing the scene before him. “Why do you still act the way you did when you two dated? Seriously, it’s so annoying” he huffed.

“Cause you’re being an asshole, Heeseung” Jay interjected, still seated by the trios usual table.

“And you’re being stuck up. What's wrong in having a little fun?” he sighed.

“You’re the only one having fun, Heeseung” you said, and he stared into your eyes.

He wasn’t fazed by your words or anyones in fact. He wanted the high ground in life so going under the influence of peoples opinion wasn’t even an option for him.

“I have to put myself first” he giggled, and you rolled your eyes at his stupid comment.

He was standing inches away from you, and you could swear the heat was radiating off of him. He smelled of Japanese cherry blossoms. You found that strange, expecting a man like him to wear the strongest cologne out there.

The truth was, Heeseung always went for a softer look. He had the whole package from the hair to the shoes. Maybe it was one of his tactics to stand out and showcase his individuality as best as he could.

“Can you just let this go? The whole act you have going on. It’s become old”you say, your voice monotone. He looks around the cafeteria.

“I don’t see anyone better to make fun of” he states, and grabs your hand “Consider that as a compliment” he adds, and smiles brightly.

No matter how much time has passed from the day you met to this moment, his sweet and charming smile never changed. It was made to mesmerize others, and sometimes you couldn't help but get excited.

Your hand jerks away from his “Fuck, just cut it out, please. Just let me have some fun with my friends before graduation” you plead.

Heeseung has never seen you actually beg him to stop. As much as an asshole he was, maybe you were right. He didn’t think about graduation until now.

Heeseung was scared to graduate and leave his school career behind. He knew whatever accomplishments he had in archery would give him nothing in return in college. He knew the adoration of younger girls wouldn't transcript to college. And he knew his friends wouldn't waddle after him. He knew he’d be alone again.

He stayed quiet. The only thing consoling the immediate silence in the small circle you made, was the chatter of other students placed around the cafeteria. Heeseung’s heart courses unsteady blood through the canyons of his uneasy stomach as he exhales a rocky breath.

“Whatever” he murmurs into the sunshine, leaving you and his friends behind as he walks out of the large lunch hall.

///

The school days became more steady and quiet. No clouds in the sky, and no interruptions during lunch. No dumb comments when you spoke in class, and certainly no cocky notes in your locker.

You didn’t see Sunghoon’s and Jay’s smiley faces waving at you anymore as you sat down at your usual lunch table with Niki, Jungwon and Yunjin, since they didn’t sit behind you anymore. At first you wondered why, but you just assumed it was a blessing from the god above. Not that you hated Sunghoon or Jay, you could never, it was more about the boy you despised.

Sunghoon and you used to date, and you knew he couldn’t get enough of the comments Heeseung made about it on a daily basis. He started using it as an insult, and scolding him everytime he tried to help you after one of Heeseung’s foolish pranks. The reality of your relationship was pretty sad. Cause not only is Heeseung using it as a taunt towards your now ex boyfriend, but he was the authentic reason for your breakup. He felt as if you stole his best-friend from him, so he made your lover choose between you or him. The choice is probably obvious by now. I mean he had no certainty this love would last.

“It’s been pretty quiet without Heeseung coming around, hm?” Yunjin whispered, doodling hearts around her English worksheet. A smile perks up on her lips as she writes Jake's name in one of them.

“Well, finally”you reply shortly, focusing on the question before you. You twirl the pen between your fingers, as Yunjin chuckles softly.

“Weren’t you used to it by now? I mean isn’t it weird to not have him spill drinks on you anymore?” she nagged you once again, knocking you out of your trance.

“Who wouldn't be used to it? But I definitely do not miss having wet hair and clothes for the rest of the day”you smile, and write down one of the answers.

Of course you felt like something was missing, but you’d never actually admit it. You knew something was missing, but coming to the full realization of what that was, belittled you.

“Didn’t you ever like Heeseung? Like at some point you had to like him. Especially when you two were practically besties!”she exclaimed, and you had to hit her, afraid Jay might hear.

Jay sat next to Yeonjun, head in hands. You snook secretive glances at the boy, and he seemed just as confused as you were. He kept asking his deskmate for answers but from what it looked like, he didn't have them either.

“I don’t know, Yunjin. Maybe, but it surely wasn’t anything big. You know, Heeseung used to be pretty fucking cool back then”you smiled, your mind rushing back to the memory of freshman Heeseung.

“Niki was so jealous of him, I’ll never forget that” Yunjin giggled, and grabbed your pink highlighter to color in her heart dedicated to Jake.

She smiled as the heart filled with a bright pink color, fading her boyfriend's name a bit, but she made sure to correct it right after.

“Don’t you ever hang out with Heeseung? Especially since you spend so much time with Jake?” you asked curiously.

She chuckled and shook her head.

“We never hang out with a third person. We’d probably make them really uncomfortable,“ she answers, and you laugh along with her.

“Back to you, Jake told me Heeseung doesn’t even talk about you anymore. Can you believe that?” she huffed, as if it should have offended you.

You shrugged. The less embarrassing things Jake, Sunghoon or Jay knew about you, the better. But you wondered why he’d talk about you in the first place.

“He’s also been really secretive lately. They were supposed to go play some games at Jay’s, but he bailed out. Jake said he never does that '' she exclaimed dramatically.

“I really don’t care, Yunjin. Maybe he finally realized what a shit person he truly is” you explain, and she just laughs.

“I hope so too” she whispered a short response “Are you still coming to the game? I finally convinced Niki to come ‘see his friend throw a ball around’ ”she made air quotes, and you chuckled.

“Yeah, me and Jungwon wanted to go from the start anyways” you say, and she squeals excitedly.

///

“Can we sit here?” Sunghoon’s voice caught your attention, as he stood alongside Jay and Jake.

Yunjins face lit up at the boy standing in front of her “Yes!” she squealed, and clung onto Jake’s side “You never sit with me at lunch, baby” she murmured into his chest, and he giggled.

“She’s right, you guys never sit here. What happened to mood killer Heeseung?” Jungwon asked, and they shrugged, just as curious as him.

You looked around the cafeteria, but in fact a six foot, blue haired man was nowhere to be seen. You always wondered why he chose a hair color that could potentially make him look like an idiot amongst the towns people, but you couldn't lie and say it didn't fit him.

“He’s not here, and he’s not answering our calls, I think he’s skipping,” Sunghoon said tiredly.

“I heard he’s been ditching you guys quite often lately” Niki asserted sarcastically , picking at his lunch uninterested.

His parents cut off his money after he failed his math exam, so he no longer had the option to buy out the whole buffet. He was stuck with the disgusting, soggy food the school offered for free.

“Yeah, he has. I don’t want to offend anyone, but after the lunch incident it’s like something has changed in him,”Jay said, being a witness of the scene.

“Why would I be offended by all people, the more freedom, the better” you said, and Jay silently agreed with you.

Getting rid of the fear's tight grip, really washed a lot of other things off of you. It made you so much more comfortable and especially much cleaner, literally and practically. But his sudden ignorance and complete change in demeanor wasn’t all pluses, but maybe it was too early for you to realize that.

“Seriously I should've studied for that exam” Niki muttered, pushing his plate of soggy pasta away. He reached for his backpack but found nothing edible inside.

“What’s wrong with him? That pasta used to be the highlight of my day in freshman year” Jay hummed.

“There is something seriously wrong with you, man”Niki responded “That pasta tastes like battery acid, and maybe like the crumbs on my bed on a good day”

“You eat the crumbs you find in your bed?” Sunghoon asks, disgusted.

Another red flag Niki carried around with him.

“Yeah, you don’t? I thought everyone eats the crumbs in their bed” he said, and nobody agreed.

“First of all, I wash my bedsheets and don’t eat in my bed” Sunghoon said, and Niki scoffed.

“You’re seriously mentally ill, all of you actually. Bedsheets are supposed to be changed every two months or maybe every month if I feel generous”he educates them.

“Me and Y/n once slept over at your house, and I woke up with crumbs in my ass” Jungwon said, and Niki rolled his eyes.

“Could have slept on the floor then”Niki asserted, and sneaked one of Yunjins fries into his mouth. She was way too occupied with Jake to even notice or have any awareness of the people around her “Okay I think we should stop talking about my crumbs now, please”

“Trust me, no one wants to know about your disgusting ass habits,” Jungwon sniggered.

Somehow you found yourself looking around the hall for that one familiar face, yet as good as your vision was, you couldn’t spot him anywhere. Why did you want to see him so bad?

“What about you, Y/n?” Jay asked, and you had no idea what the initial conversation was even about.

Jay had changed the subject, moving on from Niki a long time ago, but your mind was focused on something, or rather someone else.

“What?”

“I asked what you plan on doing after graduation” he smiled, and you pushed your focus back onto the group around you.

“I don’t know yet. I do want to go to college, a lot actually, but what for, I’m still trying to figure that out” you said quickly. Jay nodded understandingly.

“What about a boyfriend?” he smirked and nugged Sunghoon. He just rolled his eyes and moved away from the boy.

“I don't think I need one at the moment”you answered with a smile.

It went quiet as Jungwon's face changed drastically. He saw something others couldn't make out just yet.

“Speaking of boyfriends and girlfriends,, is that fucking Miyoung?”Jungwon exclaimed, and the mention of her name made Yunjin jump away from Jake’s arms.

“What are you talking about?”she said, her body trembling. Her heart began racing as Jungwon pointed to the entry door.

You didn’t want to look, suspecting the outcome.

“So that's where he went,”Sunghoon laughed, and before he could call them over, Niki stopped him. Sunghoon quickly realized, and gave up on that idea.

“No way he actually started dating Miyoung, isn’t she like a total bitch” Jay said, directing his words towards Yunjin.

“She is the most awful person I’ve ever met,” Yunjin said, her gaze still glued to the couple.

“Well that explains why Heeseung’s dating her now,” Jungwon chuckled.

There was the confirmation you didn’t necessarily want.

Heeseung and Miyoung are dating now.

“So that’s why he doesn’t bother you anymore! He doesn't want to make his girlfriend jealous” Jay exclaimed, you just laughed quietly, and tried to completely cut out your friend's words with the company of your own phone.

“This has got to be a serious one if he gave up on teasing Y/n” Sunghoon said.

As much as it made you happy he left you alone, the reason behind it did not fire up that same emotion in you. But you could not stop life from moving onwards, and if this is what makes him satisfied then so be it, right?

“Why did you stop being friends with her anyways, Yunjin?”

…

“I can’t, me and Miyoung are going to the movies” Yunjin said excitedly, but you couldn't quite return her feeling.

Once again, you were being ditched for Miyoung, and it felt pretty fucking shit. It felt as if Yunjin was drifting away from you for some new girl she barely knew. But you couldn’t stop her, she was your best friend and her happiness was your priority.

So when Yunjin and Miyoung were enjoying the movies you and she loved, Heeseung was by your side. He listened, and helped you cope with the pain of being replaced. You remember him holding your hand so tightly, telling you how much you mean to many people, and to never doubt Yunjins platonic love for you. It was a new thing for you and him. You were usually at each other's side when exams came, and when he competed for the gold medal, but never when a crisis striked.

You wondered why he did it. Did he just feel bad for you and didn’t want to make you more miserable when you came to him?

Miyoung was your complete opposite, she was more like Yunjin. That’s why they connected so fast. You envied their friendship despite the fact you were still considered Yunjins best friend.

When Heeseung heard all about Miyoung, he couldn't hold back the shit he had to say about her. Every bad thing he recognized within her, from him, sounded fifty times worse. It was his way of helping you realize Yunjin will grasp that soon enough too.

And he was right. Miyoung had nothing but bad intentions towards Yunjin.

…

Maybe seeing him all over Miyoung hurt ten times more because he was there for you when no one else was. He was there when his now girlfriend wanted to tear your friendship apart.

///

“You’ve been acting really off recently” Jay commented, while you two accompanied each other on the walk back home.

Jay lived in the same apartment complex as you, but you never cared enough to notice him. Usually it was only you and Niki ignoring the rest of your neighbors.

“I think it’s just your imagination, Jay '' you laughed, and took another bite out of Jay's candy bar.

He made a sad and offended face when half of his chocolate bar was gone.

“No seriously, even Jungwon noticed, and I trust him”he said.

“You and Jungwon really hit it off, hm?”you asked, trying to bring the spotlight off of you.

You guessed it worked when Jay's face lit up “Yeah, we did! He actually seems to like spending time with me”

“We all love spending time with you and everyone else, Jay” you smiled brightly, and he laughed.

It was true. Ever since Heeseung completely cut them off for his girlfriend's company, your friend group adopted them. Yunjin couldn't be more happy now that she got to spend every second of her day with Jake. And you felt happy cause they gave you the little unreal pieces of Heeseung you found yourself missing.

Seeing him with Miyoung, turned something upside down in you. It didn’t let you function properly and it felt like you've hit rock bottom. You couldn't help but wonder, why her? Although anybody else wouldn't make the growing feeling in your stomach any better. It was still a new thing to you, and you couldn't quite put into words what it was.

“Do you miss Heeseung? Or at least the person he used to be?”you asked, and Jay wasn’t expecting you to be the one to initiate a conversation about Heeseung.

“Well obviously. We still talk, but it isn't the same at all. I really want to go back to the day when it all went downhill, maybe I could've done something,”he answered with a fabricated confidence.

“Don’t blame yourself for something you can't control,” you said, holding his hand. It was a habit you picked up from the one and only Heeseung himself. “For the short time I knew Heeseung, he’s just like that. You never know what's coming until it's already done”

“Short time? You and him were constantly talking in freshman, I’m really shocked you didn't catch feelings for him back then”he laughed.

Feelings. Now you realize that maybe after all you did like Heeseung. It came to you after you found yourself reminiscing on the memories you shared. He used to mean a lot to you, and when he started changing his demeanor towards you, it wasn't easy to let go. You tried to fix it but you didn't have any tools. You just had to buy a replacement, but there weren't any others like him in stock. That’s why you started dating Sunghoon, because he was the closest you could've gotten to Heeseung.

“I don't think I catch feelings that easily,”you laughed.

Lie.

You lay in your bed helplessly, the sheets clinging onto your sweaty body. Your room elopes you in a constant darkness, and the wind blows softly through your open window. You can’t focus on anything, your heartbeat picking up at every sharp inhale.

Your mind was racing from one thing to another, but someone who stayed consistently flooding your brain was Heeseung. Because you have finally come to the realization this was never about Miyoung or the childish pranks, it was about him.

It was an untypical connection you longed to study.

///

“I know what's going on so you either say it yourself, or I’ll just be blunt about it right now” Niki said through the speaker of your phone as you kept on straining from the real purpose of the call.

You trusted Niki, but this is something bigger than the time you told him about Sunoo. Back then the only thing you two could do about it was laugh and make up fake scenarios with you as the main character.

“If we both know then why talk about it? It doesn't matter anyway” you murmured, fiddling with the settings of your fan.

“Because I want to help you, and if you don’t tell me the full thing I have nothing to stand on” he explained, and you sighed.

On one hand, you wanted to hear Nikis advice, but would that really help? Would any of this really help your already fucked up situation?

“I don’t even know where to start, Niki” you said and he let out a sound of understandment.

“Just tell me everything, don’t hold back. You can trust me with this” he told you after a brief moment of silence.

You stayed quiet, attempting to process everything through. The admission alone was hard enough, but spilling out the truth to one of your bestfriends was the real challenge.

“Niki, I’m not sure myself, if what I feel is real. I’m wondering if any of this is real” you started softly, and he kept quiet signalizing for you to continue. “I want to have him all for myself, and I know it’s selfish, but what can I do anyways”

“Do you seriously want this?” he asked.

“I don’t know Niki, I don’t know anything just yet” you responded.

“I think it’s okay to not have answers,” he assured.

There was nothing that could help your blossoming feelings for Heeseung. Even after he embarrassed you on multiple occasions you couldn't do anything but fall deeper in love with him. Maybe it’s because you still had the feeling his freshman self was still somewhere inside of him under the pile of shit he’s been consuming lately.

“Okay” you mutter. “Just be realistic with me” you ask of him, and he nods understandingly.

“I would never lie to you, Y/n” he whispers “Just follow your gut, okay? I know that may be hard, but if you actually want to try, do it. There's nothing to lose here anyways” he says.

You nod, unable to say anything. It’s weird, the feeling you're experiencing. It leaves you uneasy, the thought of your current situation. You’re unsure of anything going on.

“I want you to be nothing but happy, if it's with him, or anyone else, but sometimes things don't go the way we want them to because we don't trust ourselves” he adds, noticing you've been awfully quiet.

“I don’t want to embarrass myself again, Niki '' you mutter.

What were you thinking, seriously? Heeseung was the unreachable boy, only the prettiest girls of this school could have. Miyoung was one of them, drop dead gorgeous, skinny with porcelain skin. You didn’t see those features in yourself, but maybe it was just your insecurities getting the best of you.

“You can’t embarrass yourself if you don't even try. Even if you do, what's wrong with that? You know you have us, we’ll never make fun of you” he assured with a soft smile.

“Is it even worth it? I mean I don't have any assurance this would last if anything. What if we just went back to hating each other, and I’m left all alone again” you ask, and he shakes his head.

He gets closer to the camera, head in hands. “Just because of what happened with Sunghoon, doesn't mean you have to kill any hope you have of a relationship with others. That's not how it works” he tells you softly. “Just trust yourself, and the process, okay?”

///

You had a goal.

Win Heeseung back by graduation.

You always considered yourself to be a competitive person, not exactly in the right field, but competitiveness always lingered somewhere in your gut. And that’s exactly why you would do anything to feel his touch again.

It didn't take you long to realize you took his teasing for granted. Your mind was begging for him to leave you alone, but your heart perhaps liked the constant attention, and the fact he’d think about you more than anyone. It was stupid, but what could you do? It was hard not to miss the not-so sweet nicknames he’d give you. It was hard not to miss his dumb pranks and sweet laughter.

How were you going to reach your goal? You didn’t exactly know. You just decided to follow your gut, just as Niki said days before. Maybe you were reaching too far, but what's wrong in admiring the stars?

“Sunoo said the team has been actually working hard this month. I’m starting to gain hope in our schools first win” Niki said, clicking away at the Superstar SM on his phone “Fuck, I lost” he groaned.

“Only the best can do Kick It on hard mode” Jay shrugged, receiving a death stare from Niki, who loaded up the song again.

“I don’t think you should get your hopes up too high, Niki. Sunoo said that last time, and guess what?They lost” Sunghoon murmured, copying Jake's chemistry notes.

You silently agreed with Sunghoon. The only reason you all tagged along for the game was the free food your school was giving out on match day. It was probably their way of compensating for the awful game our football team was about to present to us.

“You’re seriously so bad at this, '' Jay laughed, and pulled out his own phone when he saw Niki lose once again.

“Don’t be a show off, I’m just having a bad day. Look, I literally have two stars on Cherry Bomb” he shoved the phone into Jays face.

“Stop being annoying, Niki” Jungwon commented, and the boy looked like he was about to kill him.

“It’s not my fault, he started it!” he said, offended.

“I just got an S level Doyoung!” Jay squealed.

“No way, you’re such a liar, '' Niki said, sliding over to Jay's side.

While the two boys were preoccupied with the beloved game, and Jake was busy keeping Yunjin her special company, Sunghoon and Jungwon were copying Jay's notes, you couldn't stop looking over at Heeseungs table. He seemed to find himself new friends amongst Miyoungs circle. He sat there laughing with Kwangsun and Taehyun, keeping his arm around Miyoung.

Kwangsun and Taehyun were Jakes teammates so you knew them very well. Not only were they the worst on the swimming team, they also had the worst personality. Talking to them was like talking to a wall, they lacked any sense of humor and interest in the world around them. You wondered how Heeseung was talking to them so comfortably. Probably because they weren't responding so it didn't even matter what he said.

“How are you feeling? Everything alright?” Sunghoon asked, keeping his eyes on the notebook. He didn’t look at what he was writing down, just blindly copied Jay's work.

“I’m okay? Why are you even asking?” you answer with a question.

He laughs, and drops the pen. Jungwon takes the opportunity, and slides the notebook closer to himself.

“You’ve been awfully quiet, you know?” he states softly.

“You shouldn't worry about me, Sunghoon. I see you have a lot more to copy, seriously do it before lunch ends” you say trying to change the subject.

Was Sunghoon suspecting something? Did he know something you didn’t? It was hard to tell, and that was making you even more stressed than you already were.

“I’m your friend, I worry about you, Y/n. But i respect it if you don’t want to talk about it now” he smiles and picks up his blue pen “Give that book back” he groans, and slides the book back over to the middle.

“This is unfair, I can barely see what's written there!” Jungwon fights, but the boy next to him just shrugs.

Were your friends catching on? Were you really that obvious?

“Life is still going on, three rainbow stars, beat that” Jay exclaimed, a cocky tone to his voice.

Life is still going on, right.

///

“I’ve been waiting for this for so long!” Niki exclaimed happily, as his eyes scanned the buffet in front of the football field's bleachers. He looked like he was ready to stuff his face any moment now.

“Don’t get too excited, we might not be able to pack you into my car after this” Jay said, taking a sip of his drink.

“Very funny, Jayshit. Let a man enjoy his food” Niki responded, grabbing the first pastry in sight. “Sunoo claimed some really good seats for us, by the way” he added bluntly.

“Maybe you really are useful sometimes, Niki,” Jake said, and got a middle finger in return.

“I remember last time we got some nosebleeds,” Jungwon said, helping Niki sneak half of the buffet into his backpack.

“This is why I am always useful,” Niki said, smiling at Jake.

“That makes no sense, if you were useful you’d get the good seats too last game” Jake asserted.

“Shut up, Jake. Don’t you have a girlfriend to take care of?” Niki rolled his eyes.

You chuckled at his child-like behavior, and grabbed Jay’s drink to take a sip yourself.

“What's up with you and always stealing my shit, get some yourself” Jay said, and jerked the drink away from you. You laugh, and smile at him.

You look around for any familiar faces, but it seems as if no one has arrived yet. That's what you get for being two hours early, just because Niki can't miss out on the strawberry donuts.

“Isn’t that Miyoung, and Heeseung? I thought he hated football” Jake chuckles.

They're here too? It can't get worse can it?

“Miyoung likes it. Her brother is on the team” Yunjin says, and Jake nods.

You drop your head to the ground, and start playing with the strings of your hoodie. Maybe if you don’t say anything you’ll sulking will go unnoticed.

“He hasn’t talked to us for a good two weeks. He really is down bad” Sunghoon comments.

“Do you think Miyoung forbade him from talking to us?” Jay asked, hoping for Yunjin to answer, since her brief friendship with the girl might allow her to know.

“She usually does when she doesn't like her partner's friends” Yunjin fulfilled Jay's wish.

“Why so? Especially since I have probably never talked to her” Sunghoon said, a confused look spread on his face.

“I wish I knew that one,” Yunjin said.

Seeing Heeseung with her was different for you this time. It's like something turned inside of you. Maybe it was because of the fact he loves her enough to sit through a game he hates with his whole soul and heart. You wonder if he’d do the same for you.

The scenery was beautiful. The sound of soft chatter and the summer breeze swayed through your features. The sun hid behind the clouds, the only source of light being the large lamps placed around the field. It was the perfect highschool cliche, but your mind was constantly at war with the bound feelings. It never left you alone. Before you fell asleep, while you ate breakfast, while you showered or brushed your teeth. He always flooded your brain.

“I think I’ll get in a quick bathroom stop before this mess starts” you smile, and get up from your seat next to Jungwon.

“You want me to go with you?” Yunjin asks, averting her gaze from Jake to you.

“Sorry, I don’t really feel like making you hear me pee, I’ll be back soon” you smile, and Yunjin just giggles, setting her head back on Jake’s soft shoulder.

You can’t look at her being happy with him anymore. It makes you want to throw up.

The gentle sound of the latest pop hits poured from the speakers mounted in every corner of the school building as you made your way to the restroom, feeling helpless. Various students hastily made their way to the field.

Yeah, sure, you did hate him. But one look at said enemy, all those words could be shoved out the window.

The air felt so heavy, as you sat on the sinks marble. No matter how hard you searched, there still was no answer. There was no escape and you’ve already lost any control of yourself. You were going insane each sleepless night thinking about him.

You looked into the mirror's reflection and didn’t recognize yourself anymore. Have you changed out of your own pure will, or was it because maybe you weren’t enough for Heeseung when he left. Was it the way you looked, acted or was it any of your other flaws? There’s no answer.

You completely lost track of time, but nobody seemed to be looking for you anyways.

A quiet sound echoed through the bathroom. You didn't even bother to look, expecting Yunjins voice to hit your ears anytime now.

“Do you know how much I hate you?” a so familiar voice reaches your ear.

It still hasn’t hit you. The same person you were bawling your eyes out over, was so close to your helpless figure, yet the calmness of your heart didn’t let the feeling sink in just yet. It was probably the years of Heeseung’s torment that made you believe he was here only to return to his old antics.

You can’t bear to look at him. It’ll just go full circle, and explode, really.

“No” you respond, still avoiding eye contact.

“Words can’t describe” he says, and you can feel him smile. “I go fucking insane whenever I think of you” he added breathily.

You shiver at the harshness in his voice. You didn’t remember it being so coarse.

“Don’t do this, Heeseung” your voice shakes.

“Look at me,” he whispers, and harshly lifts your chin up to make you eye to eye with him.

A long drawn-out sigh from the bottom of his chest leaves him. He slowly lowered his head, and immediately froze in position; making the closeness between you much more intimate. The air around you felt warmer as his eyes pierced through you, studying every detail of your face.

“I’ll show you just how much I hate you” he finally speaks,

Any thoughts you had before Heeseung stepped into the pity party you were hosting in the bathroom, flew right out as his lips smashed into your soft and delicate ones. Your heart heaves uneasily, as you give into the feeling of him against you.

The kiss is lustfull, full of anger he had stored up ever since you went separate ways. He didn’t hold back, his tongue relentlessly prying your mouth open until you gave into his action. The lack of oxygen pulled you apart, your mouth still open from the initial shock.

Yet his lips felt like a magnet; pulling you closer and closer, un-allowing any resistance. You couldn’t stop yourself, leaning over again, wanting to feel his soft lips once again. There really was no turning back.

“Could Sunghoon make you feel this good?” he asked breathlessly, as his lips planted softs kisses on your jawline.

“No” you breathe out, and he smiles.

“That’s what I thought” he smirked, caressing your warm cheek.

Even the mere thought of you and Sunghoon made him burn inside. He liked having you all to himself. Sharing was never an option.

It suddenly hit you.

“Heeseung, why are you doing this?” you asked, backing away from the boy, throwing his hands off your face, feeling a sudden disconnection between the two of you.

“You know how obsessed I am with you?” he whispered, maintaining eye contact. “You remember when you asked me to leave you alone, because you wanted to have just a little bit of fun before graduation?”

You nodded, not knowing exactly what this was about. Hearing all the sweet, yet concerning things that came out of his mouth, made you want to forgive him right there and then without any good explanation to the years of hell he gave you.

“It made me realize, you know, maybe I wanted you more than I thought I did” he finished and although he tried to maintain a dominant act, you could still see his sly smile peek through.

You couldn't give into him that fast.

“Oh so you decided to start dating Miyoung? Makes so much sense Lee Heeseung” you scoffed, trying to intimidate him at least a little bit.

It obviously didn’t work because Heeseung seemed to be unfazed by your words.

“Feelings get caught up in the mind” he said calmly “But loving you long makes it feel a little better”

Whatever he was trying to say didn’t matter, because really you didn’t care. You weren’t gonna lose the opportunity you’ve been manifesting ever since he left.

“Promise this is the last time you pull this type of shit?” you ask after a minute of silence.

Heeseung lets out an airy laugh and smiles. He lifts up his pinky finger, and intertwines it with yours.

“Promise”

Heeseung really wasn’t that tough after all.

///

Heeseung can’t exactly go back to the moment he started to fall in love with you. Maybe it was the day you helped him with his math homework, or maybe the time you cheered him on while he competed in the archery finals.

But he knows exactly when he realized it.

“You promise you won’t tell him, right?” you ask, smiling.

The two of you sat at the back of the library for your weekly study session. You’ve been giving him hints of a recent love interest, and as an unusually curious man he wanted to know more.

“Who's he, just tell me! And I know him, interesting” he laughs.

“It’s Sunghoon. Yes, your best friend Park Sunghoon” you announce and he feels his heart drop. He hoped you’d take him by surprise, and let the words, ‘You Heeseung, it’s you whom I like’ leave your lips. But it was Sunghoon.

Fucking Sunghoon.

Of course, he wouldn’t let this ruin his friendship with Sunghoon. He was sure his friend didn’t even like you back, and soon enough he could be helping you get up after the heartbreak.

But what he didn’t expect was for you two to actually start dating.

At first he held all his anger in, trying his best to avoid any contact with you. Soon it turned into ignorance, and he found himself completely overlooking you. He thought of it as the better way out. When it got to the point he couldn't look past anymore, he made Sunghoon choose, knowing what would be the result of it. Sunghoon chose him, but you submitted to the feeling of hatred.

///

Now, after all this time, Heeseung could watch you bicker with your friends over the tiniest things with his own eyes. He could finally sit down at your usual spot in the library and receive the most prized tutoring from you once again. He could watch you accept your diploma, and run back to him with the biggest smile on your face.

Expressing love for you was different. Years of uncountable pranks, and hateful messages were all just the sweet feeling in disguise.

2K notes · View notes

copias-girl · 1 year

Text

To Catch a Cardinal: Chapter X

This is the song playing at the beach! <3

A/N: Ok it’s finally here!! Get ready for some fun in the sun! ☀️ Also fun fact I’m a certified lifeguard and trained in first aid and CPR so everything in this is actually accurate! Except for the fact that I made it ridiculously horny lmaoo

All chapters here <3

•♥︎𖤐♥︎•

You’d finally arrived at the beach, you and your friends scrambling to get out of the car and grab your things from the trunk.

Copia was slower than the rest of you due to being so self conscious after Rob’s comments about him in the car. He was apprehensive to be in the pit of snakes that was your friend group, however he didn’t want to disappoint you.

Like a good trooper, he took a breath before getting out of the car. He carried his boombox and the black and white striped umbrella, and once you found a good spot, he stuck it in the sand. Rob put the cooler in the shade, and you all began laying your towels down side by side.

Taking a deep inhale of the balmy sea air, a bright smile spread across your face. It was so wonderful to be back by the ocean.

•𖤐•

The last time you’d been at the beach was the previous summer, when the Papas were going and Terzo insisted on bringing you along. You smirked to yourself at the memory; of how Terzo had faked drowning so you’d rush into the water and save him. You had worriedly dragged the unresponsive man onto the sand, beginning to perform CPR on him. However, as soon as your lips brushed his to give him mouth to mouth resuscitation, you felt two arms snaking tightly around you while Terzo stuck his tongue into your mouth in a passionate French kiss.

Surprised, you had squealed into his mouth, swatting at him as you tried to pull away.

“You pervert! Get back here!” You shouted once he had finally released you, laughing and chasing after the man as he ran for his life, wearing the smallest speedo you’d ever seen.

“Fratello, tu coglione! Stop harassing Sorella or she’ll leave the ministry because of you!” Secondo barked at his brother, crossing his arms and flicking his shades back on in annoyance.

“You’d really miss little ol’ me?” You giggled, huffing in exhaustion as you and Terzo stopped chasing each other around and sat back on your towels with the other Papas.

“Of course. I’m not losing my favourite Sorella just because questo carciofo can’t keep his hands off her.” Secondo sniffed, not taking his eyes off the book in his hands. As much as he tried to act serious and scary, he just couldn’t hide his soft spot for you.

Primo had spent most of his time in the shade, slathered in sunscreen and trying to shoo off seagulls when they tried to steal his peach slices. However, his mismatched eyes lit up in interest each time you came back from the water, dumping a bucket of seashells and sea glass next to him so the two of you could sort through them together.

Coincidentally, you’d found a green piece of sea glass which you gifted to Secondo, a violet one that you presented Terzo with, and a red one that you excitedly gave to Primo. To this day, they all still had the little pieces, keeping them on their desks as a reminder of you.

Overall, the four of you had a ridiculously fun day, and you wondered why you didn’t go to the beach more often. Perhaps it was because of the terrible sunburn that Terzo developed after that day.

“I told you not to use all that tanning oil!” Secondo had scolded his younger brother as he drove you all home.

“The Emeritus bloodline does not tan well.” Ghostly pale Primo solemnly nodded in agreement from the front seat.

“Come fottutamente ovvio! I think I fucking know that now! Ow, cazzo!” Terzo groaned while you comforted him, the two of you sitting in the back seat.

And for two whole weeks you’d been assigned to slather aloe vera all over Terzo while the cheeky bastard coyly smirked at you. You always wondered if he got that sunburn on purpose.

•𖤐•

“Where’s your towel?” You asked Copia, noticing he didn’t have one with him.

“Ah, shit…” He mumbled, averting his gaze shyly. “Ho dimenticato…”

“You could share with me. I didn’t realize this was a bigger one when I grabbed it.” You offered, gesturing to your big square beach towel, the black one with the white grucifix on it.

“I-I don’t want to pester you, Sorella.” The Cardinal shook his head timidly.

“Nonsense! Otherwise I’ll be lonely on this big towel all by myself.” You giggled. Everyone had taken their clothes off, having their swimsuits underneath, and Copia began to do the same. He anxiously took his hoodie off, then his sweatpants, then pulled his t-shirt over his head and sat down on your towel to remove his shoes and socks. Funnily enough, the man looked the most bashful when he removed his gloves. Copia felt terribly naked without his gloves.

You gaped at him for a moment, having to hide your grin. Your friends were already snickering to each other about it, and you didn’t want the poor man to think you were laughing at him too. But sweet Satan, he was wearing one of those old fashioned black and white striped men’s one-piece swimsuits. It was basically like a tank top with shorts attached. Of course Copia would wear one of those. Part of you was disappointed that you didn’t get to see the man shirtless, but you were also delightfully amused at how on-brand it was. Besides, it was fairly tight, and obviously allowed you to see much more of him than his cassocks did.

Before you could study Copia any further, your friends were all chanting for you to give them a fashion show with your new bikini.

“Alright aright, gimme a second!” You laughed, going behind the umbrella to undress. You shoved your clothes into your beach bag before stepping into view.

“Well, here it is!” You shrugged, giving them a little twirl.

You looked like an infernal goddess. And the tiny black bikini hardly left anything to the imagination. The top- with ‘See you in Hell’ cheekily written on it- cupped your breasts perfectly; barely containing them as they slightly spilled out, creating a delicious cleavage. And the bottoms- if you could even call them bottoms- were basically just a little black thong with the grim reaper on the front.

Rob wolf-whistled as your girlfriends hollered and cheered at you, causing you to laugh at their reactions.

“Unholy moly, settle down!” You giggled, turning around and giving them another view of your voluptuous ass, coyly looking over your shoulder before beginning to laugh.

“Unholy moly is right…” Rob murmured with a smirk.

“Haven’t you guys ever seen a girl in a bikini before?” You asked in amusement.

“Not like you! Ugh, body goals.” Mable sighed dreamily.

“I know right? What was the Dark Lord thinking when he made you??” Lilith added.

“Speak of the Devil, when we get home I’m going to make an offering to Satan so he’ll make me look like you!” Ava beamed.

“You guys are too much.” You giggled, waving them off. You noticed how Emily was a bit quiet, side-eyeing Rob while he drooled over you.

Your eyes finally flicked to Copia, but you were immediately alarmed as you saw blood gushing out of his nose while he stared at you, his cheeks red and his wide eyes trained intensely on you.

“Cardinal!” You gasped, rushing to kneel beside the man. “Are you alright?”

Copia was unresponsive, continuing to gape at you; his lips parted, eyes practically popping out of his skull. He was under your spell, totally and utterly entranced by your body. Had he died? Was this chthonic paradise? It felt as though Satan had rewarded Copia for his unholy works, bestowing you upon him as a gift; the prettiest little succubus in the whole inferno.

Reaching into your bag, you grabbed a tissue before worriedly turning back to the man. Meanwhile, Rob and your fellow Sisters of Sin sat on their own respective beach towels, gawking at Copia in a mix of confusion and amusement, exchanging hushed, speculative whispers of judgement.

“Cardinal, are you okay??” You fretted, placing a gentle hand on his cheek, wiping drips of crimson blood off his moustache, lips, and chin.

“I-I-I’m s-sorry, I-” The man shook his head, trying to snap out of it. “I-I don’t- ehm-” He couldn’t help it; his painted eyes roamed your body as he stuttered out nonsense. He had never seen a girl so undressed before, especially not so close to him like this. And, Hell, this wasn’t just any girl. This was you. Copia never ever thought he’d get the chance- the privilege- to see you with so little clothes on. However, he felt ever so disgusted with himself for making such a big deal about it. He really was a depraved pervert, wasn’t he?

It dawned on you then, with the way he was uncontrollably ogling you. And when you stole a glance downward, you bit your lip at the sight of the very visible bulge in his swimsuit, the black and white striped fabric only accentuating it.

You had literally just given this perverted old man an anime nosebleed.

You had to hide your smirk, wickedly snaking an arm around his shoulders as you moved to straddle his lap.

The Cardinal’s breath hitched in his throat as he bit back a moan; the feeling of you seated on top of him like this was sure to make him pop. He felt hot, too hot; but not from the scintillating sun beating down on him, no. You put the sun to shame, your radiant beauty beaming millions of times brighter than that pendant of fire in the sky.

“Poor little mouse. Let me help you.” You cooed, leaning in close as you gently dabbed away the blood. Rob’s eyes widened at the sight. Was this how you were acting at the sleepover? Why were you indulging the dirty old man in his sick fantasies?

“G-g-g-grazie, Sorella, m-mi dispiace…” Copia stammered quietly, embarrassed. He prayed to Satan below that you wouldn’t be able to feel his cock hardening and straining against the thin fabric of his swimsuit.

You could.

“Why do you think that happened, hm?” You asked.

“I, ehm… I-I don’t, eh- …ehm..” Copia mumbled, his astonished gaze fixed directly onto your tits, which were dangerously close to his face now that you were perched on his lap.

“Because he’s a dirty old pervert who’s never even seen a girl in a swimsuit before!” Emily interjected, crossing her arms with a scoff.

“Gross.” Lilith wrinkled her nose.

The Cardinal’s cheeks burned with shame, the lines on his face deepening with guilt as he knew their words to be true.

“I mean, I’m pretty used to seeing girls with little on, but…” Rob sniffed. “your body is fire. Kinda takes a man off guard, ya know? So give the depraved virgin a break.” He smirked.

Impressive, Rob managed to compliment you and insult Copia all in the same breath.

Your poor Cardinal flinched and averted his mismatched gaze as Rob prodded at his virginity, which was obviously a very sensitive topic for Copia that caused his self esteem to plummet. Finally finished wiping up the nosebleed, you removed yourself from the man’s lap and sat on your towel next to him.

You scooted a bit closer, snaking an arm around Copia’s neck to pull him towards you. His eyes widened, alarm flashing in those beautifully odd irises as you leaned in in in, your lips ghosting over his ear and causing him to shiver.

“Between you and me, I wouldn’t ever want a man who’s been around the block as much as Rob claims to have been.” You whispered with a little smirk before pulling away.

Copia only stared at you, a pitiful look on his blushing face as he mulled your words over in his head. He didn’t want to overthink things, because he knew you definitely didn’t mean anything by your remark. You were just a kind Sister of Sin who took pity on an old man. You were simply trying to make him feel better after Rob hurt his feelings. Copia stared down at his lap; he would be a fool to think that someone like you could actually like a man like him.

All settled in and enjoying the hot sun, you opened the cooler, everyone grabbing an ice-cold bottle of cherry coke.

“Salute!” You chirped, holding your drink up, the glass bottles all clinking together as your friends toasted with you.

“Salute, Cardinale.” You giggled softly, warmth in your eyes as Copia gave you a shy smile and clinked his bottle of coke against yours before taking a sip.

•𖤐•

You reclined back on your towel as Florida Kilos by Lana Del Rey filled the sweet summer air, playing from Copia’s radio. You flicked your bat wing sunglasses on, taking the opportunity to really get a good look at the man.

He was pasty pale- obviously from constantly being covered up in his cassock- with a smattering of endearing little freckles on his flesh, matching the ones on his face. Your eyes scanned over his form, biting your lip before taking another sip of cherry coke. What a treat, the swimsuit had a crew neck collar, so you could actually see his neck and a little bit of his collar bone! Oh how you longed to kiss and bite at his neck, leaving dark hickeys there while he made love to you, laving your tongue over the bruises later as you both relaxed after several orgasms. You’d ask Copia to give you matching ones, begging him to mark you as his.

Your hungry eyes trailed lower, then, taking in the way his waist pinched in and the softness of his tummy. And of course, the very nicely sized package between those surprisingly muscular thighs. Your gaze followed his hand as he nervously ran his fingers through his greying hair, and oh what beautiful hands your Cardinal had. They were just perfect. You licked your lips, salivating as you imagined them inside you; two of his elegant fingers down your throat and two stuffed in your tight, wet pussy as you moaned and mewled for him.

“You know, you’re pretty modest for a Cardinal of the Satanic Church.” You remarked, hooking your finger in the collar of his swimsuit, giving it a teasing little tug.

“Eh? Oh.. W-well, there is, ehm… T-there is not much to show…” Copia responded timorously with a sad little chuckle, gesturing to himself.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Cardinal.” You responded softly, causing the hot blush on Copia’s cheeks to spread to the tips of his ears. He stole a shy glance at you, then another, followed by another. Satanas, the man couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off you. You could feel his gaze all over your body before studying your pretty face.

Copia was entirely in awe of your beauty, so needy for you. He longed to kiss your fruit punch lips in the bright sunshine. The poor man wanted nothing more than to work up the courage to pull you onto his lap and share cherry cola kisses with you until the sun was smouldering low in the sky. He inwardly cursed himself for being far too diffident to do so.

Releasing a sigh, he tried to relax, taking another long sip of his coke.

“Have you ever had sex on the beach?” You asked abruptly.

The Cardinal gasped, then immediately began sputtering and coughing, choking on his drink as your friends stifled laughter. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand before looking at you incredulously.

“N-no, I have obviously never… done that anywhere…” Copia murmured.

You burst out into giggles. “I meant the drink, silly! You know, a sex on the beach?” You clarified. “I think we’ve already established that you’re a virgin, Rat.” You added with a kittenish little smirk.

Copia’s cheeks burned with shame. “Ah… W-well, no, I have not had the drink either…” He responded.

“Maybe next time we could have sex on the beach together.” You offered. “You know, the drink.”

Copia’s eyes widened, nearly getting whiplash from how quickly he turned to look at you. Alarm coursed through his veins as he felt his cock beginning to harden again.

“You naughty devil, you!” Lilith laughed. “You’re almost as bad as Papa with your innuendos! And you aren’t even old enough to drink!”

“Naughty? Me?? Never!” You giggled coyly. “Besides, I’m not making any innuendos, that’s just what the drink is called! And what about the unholy communion wine every black mass? One drink wouldn’t make a difference!”

“Why would she be making innuendos anyway, Lil? It’s not like she actually wants to fuck a 50 year old virgin who literally looks like a rat.” Emily laughed, causing you to frown.

“Hey, rats are cute!” You pouted, throwing your arms around the humiliated Cardinal and giving him a squeeze. Oh, this man was so cute with those big mismatched puppy dog eyes, his lower lip flushed from biting it out of nervousness. You swore he’d probably squeak like a chew toy if you hugged him too tightly.

Copia tensed up, heart rate rising and gaze darting all around at the sensation of your soft, bare flesh pressed against him, but the contact was a soothing balm to the hurt he was feeling at your friends’ cruel words. The Cardinal knew he looked like a rat; that was a comment people had often made throughout his life. He was already so self conscious about his looks, why did your friends feel the need to constantly point it out, especially in front of you?

Emily rolled her eyes. “Get your eyesight checked then.” She murmured.

“My eyesight is perfectly fine.” You quipped, mindlessly petting Copia’s hair and scratching at his scalp. Lucifer, he really did feel like your pathetic little pet, helpless and piteous while you defended him.

“Well maybe you have heatstroke and it’s causing you to not think straight, babe. The sun beating down on you like this could fry your brain like an egg, ya know.” Rob suggested with a grin, earning a cacophony of giggles from the other sisters.

You gave them a dirty look, opening your mouth to respond snidely, when you suddenly pulled away from Copia. “Oh shoot! Speaking of the sun, I almost forgot to put sunscreen on!” You gasped, rummaging around in your bag and pulling out the bottle of coppertone.

You flipped the lid open and began squirting the white liquid onto your arms, legs, and chest; the distinctive, synonymous-with-summer smell delighting your senses.

Copia awkwardly sat next to you and watched as you began to rub it into your skin. Biting his lip, he tried to focus on anything else but you. The sky, the sand, the ocean waves. But his gaze just kept getting pulled back to your stunning form, and the way you were almost sensually working the sunscreen into your smooth, supple flesh. He tried- Satan knows he tried- to ignore what the white cream looked like. Poor Copia tried so hard not to imagine you signing in delectation while being painted with a big load of his hot cum, gazing up at him with those pretty bedroom eyes of yours.

His lip quivered and his cock twitched at the mere thought, saliva pooling in his mouth as he imagined capturing you in a deeply passionate kiss. The Cardinal craved you, he needed to taste your sweet lips again. And Copia was ashamed to admit that he was also thinking about tasting you in different ways too.

He swallowed thickly, attempting to control his indecent thoughts; but there was just something about the balmy, halcyon summer air and the sultry vision of you so close to him wearing that sinfully small bikini that nearly drove him mad.

“Don’t you have anything better to do than leer at an innocent young girl?” Emily glowered, startling Copia from his thoughts.

“Oh! I-I-I- N-no, I was just- eh-” Copia stammered, mouth hanging open in surprise.

“Well obviously he doesn’t have anything better to do, Em. I think being a pervert is his hobby or something.” Rob sneered.

“Close your mouth, Cardinal, you’re gonna start drooling any second!” Mable added, causing Lilith and Ava to burst out laughing, making comments about how hilariously shocked the man looked after being called out.

Copia not only felt humiliated, but also utterly disgusted with himself for being such a lecherous creep. He could feel tears pricking at the corners of his eyes from the embarrassment, his face flushed and pyretic, chest tight with shameful anxiety.

But then you were gently tapping his arm, drawing his attention back to you.

“Could you get my back?” You batted your thick eyelashes at him, holding the bottle of sunblock up to him.

The snivelling Cardinal’s attention snapped to you, staring at you with an expression comprised of both shock and panic.

“I gotcha, babe!” Rob interjected, beginning to get up, but you only waved him off.

“Don’t trouble yourself. Like you said, the Cardinal doesn’t have anything better to do.” You stated with a smirk. “Right, Co-Co?”

Copia glanced uneasily at the now vexed Rob before turning back to you and nodding quickly, trembling hands taking the bottle from you.

The other sisters looked at you like you had spiders crawling out of your eye sockets. Who on earth would simply wave off the opportunity to have dreamy, handsome Rob rubbing you down??

You removed your sunglasses and flipped over, situating yourself on your stomach and resting your head on your arms, giving the sweet man a delicious view of your ass.

Copia looked utterly dumbfounded as his pitifully wide eyes scanned over your perfect curves. He no idea what landed him in this golden position. Copia felt as though he had no charm, no charisma, and that his looks were quite laughable. And yet here he was, squirting an ample amount of sunscreen into his palm, nervously licking his lips and unsure of what to do next.

“I don’t have all day, Rat.” You glanced back at the poor man with lusty eyes and a playful smirk. Before laying back down, you reached around and untied your bathing suit too, leaving your back completely bare for Copia.

The Cardinal sucked in a sharp breath. Somehow, the absence of that thin little strap going across your back made the situation all the more obscene, forbidden, naughty. Shaking the perverse thoughts from his mind, the man hastily rubbed the cream between his shaking hands before gently pressing his palms against your back.

Slowly but surely, he began smoothing the sunscreen into your silky flesh, being mindful to not touch you too excessively. He didn’t want to mistakenly enjoy it too much; didn’t want to take advantage of you like that.

“Mmm, that feels good.” You sighed sensually, and Copia’s heart skipped a beat at your praise. He truly wanted to make you feel good; he really wanted to be the one to make you feel good.

Gaining a bit more confidence, he smoothed his hands over your back a bit more firmly, but murmured pitifully desperate apologies whenever his fingertips brushed against the sides of your breasts. Copia tried in earnest to do his best for you, giving you a sort of massage while he worked in the cream; sweeping up up up to your shoulders and down down down, a hot blush burning on his cheeks as his hands timidly ghosted over your lower back.

“Ah~!” Your breathy moan was almost obscene, causing Copia to stutter in his movements. He was in such a daze that he had nearly forgotten the two of you weren’t alone; and when he stole a glance upwards, he was met with the judgemental countenances of your friends glaring right at him. Especially Rob. That dangerous look of envy in the boy’s eyes frightened Copia.

He stared at them like a deer in the headlights before you grabbed his attention once again.

“Cardinal, you’re so good with your hands.” You purred. “Keep going?”

Your praise stoked a hot fire of desperation within the man, so eager to please as he immediately continued his ministrations, deciding to ignore your friends. After all, you wanted him to do this for you, and Copia was beyond happy to obey your wishes.

His cock jumped with each little moan that tumbled from your sweet lips, and soon, you were murmuring something about going lower.

“Eh… M-mi dispiace, Sorella. Ch-che hai detto?” He asked quietly.

“Can you go lower?” You asked again with a another deeply relaxed sigh.

The Cardinal remained silent, warily moving to rub his hands along your lower back, his thumbs pressing into the dimples there as he moved to gently knead the flesh of your hips. The man bit his lip, shaking his head slightly and letting out a shaky exhale as he caught himself relishing in the moment far too much to be appropriate. He lessened his grip on your hips just as you began to murmur something else.

“No, like… Go lower.” You told him.

“S-Sorella, forgive me b-but… If I go any lower I… I-I’ll be…” He stammered awkwardly.

“Yeah go ahead. I didn’t get my bum earlier and I’m too comfy to move now.” You replied nonchalantly.

Copia’s mouth went dry, his head spinning and heart pounding violently in his chest as he hesitated. A million thoughts were going through his mind at once. He had never touched a girl there; or anywhere for that matter! And he had never even thought it possible since everyone found him to be so revolting. What should he do? What would he do? What if he accidentally orgasmed in front of you and your friends?

He mistakenly came when you were sitting on his lap in the car that one time, but he was thankfully able to hold in his moans and disguise the audible ones as being gasps of surprise at the terribly bumpy road. But this time- Oh, Satanas- he wouldn’t be able to hold anything in; he’d be a pathetic, whimpering mess. You’d all laugh at him and call him a dirty old man. You’d never speak to him again. You’d be disgusted by him just like everyone else.

Copia could already feel his sensitive cock filling out more and more at the thought of getting to feel you up like this.

Bracing himself, he grabbed the bottle of sunblock and squirted some more into his palm. And then, slowly and carefully, the Cardinal placed his quivering hands on your ass, one on each cheek. He bit his lip so hard he tasted blood, swallowing back a moan that threatened to erupt from his mouth as he felt precum beginning to ooze out of his cock.

“What a fucking creep. I think I’m gonna puke.” Emily shuddered.

Copia was frozen in place, the whole world having had fallen away as he stared down at the sight of his hands on your perfect ass, almost in disbelief at the reality of the situation.

Not wanting to keep you waiting, he timidly began to grope your plump flesh, so smooth and soft and round, blushing furiously at the fact that your bikini was practically non-existent in the back. He rubbed his hands in slow circles, only pausing his ministrations to wipe away the sweat that was beading on his brow.

He fought to stay level-headed, but in all honesty, Copia felt like he was going to pop a vein any second. Lucifer, he hoped he wouldn’t have another nosebleed; one was embarrassing enough.

Rob looked as though he was actually turning green with envy, watching with crossed arms and a scowl tugging at his features as the pathetic rat man worked his hands down to your shapely thighs, squeezing slightly before going back up to your voluptuous ass, your girlish sighs only seeming to encourage the man to continue fondling you. Rob clenched his jaw. Was the Cardinal abusing his position as a higher member of clergy to take advantage of you? Why else would you let such a disgusting little man touch you like this?

And just when Rob felt like he was going to snap, the timid man pulled his hands away, wringing them nervously in his lap before speaking up.

“Well, ehm… I-I think you’re all set there, Sorella…” Copia murmured once all the sunscreen was soaked into your skin.

“Mmm, thank you so much, Cardinal! That was a dream!” You sighed with a smile, turning over onto your back and stretching. “You give a great massage. I’ll have to return the favour sometime.” You grinned up at him wickedly before sitting upright, looking like some sort of Satanic pinup girl. “I know sitting at a desk doing paperwork for all those hours must not feel great on your back.” You pouted, ghosting your fingertips down the poor man’s spine and causing him to shiver and flinch, his gaze darting all around as he stammered out a bunch of random syllables in an attempt to respond to you.

“I- w- eh- th- ehm- I-I- eh, w-well, y-y-y-yes b-but, ehhh… heh heh, y-you don’t have to, eh-” He stuttered horribly, but you only giggled.

“I insist!” You chirped.

“Ya know, it’s not just sitting at a desk that’ll ruin your back. It’s also probably because he’s so old. Greying hair, wrinkles, sore back, etcetera. It all sorta goes together.” Rob chimed in casually, trying to disguise his jab as a helpful observation.

Copia’s shoulders slumped in self consciousness; he hated his age being pointed out to you. It seemed as though your friends had quite an impressive knack for sniffing out his biggest insecurities and waving them around right in front of you.

“Well, all the more reason to do it!” You didn’t miss a beat. “I guarantee you’ll feel like a million bucks after I’m done with you.” You grinned naughtily.

Before the pathetic man could respond, Ava spoke up. “Didn’t you bring the camera? Let’s take some pictures!” She beamed.

“Yup! Here you go!” Mable replied, fishing the Polaroid out of her bag.

The sisters took turns snapping pictures of each other and Rob, and soon you were in the middle of a little solo photo shoot, striking cute pinup poses in your teeny tiny bikini. For a few of the shots, you even used your bottle of cherry cola as a prop, the striped straw suggestively between your glossy, pouty lips.

“Papa’s gonna love these.” Lilith chuckled.

“You wouldn’t!” You gasped, moving into another innocent-yet-sexually-charged pose.

“I will! I’m gonna put them under his napkin at breakfast tomorrow and watch him spit out his coffee!” The girl responded, laughing.

“Lilith no! You’ll give poor Papa a heart attack like that!” Mable giggled.

Copia shyly sat to the side during all this, mindlessly poking his fingers into the warm sand, watching you through his lashes. He felt a pang of jealously stab through his heart at the thought of Terzo getting pictures of you. He tried to shake it off, but it was enough to make his lower lip quiver and his eyes well with hot tears that threatened to spill onto his flushed cheeks.

“Rat man! Can you take a group picture of us?” Emily waved the Cardinal over as you all got into position. Copia sniffled, blinking wetly before pulling himself to his feet and taking the camera. He focused on your gorgeous, smiling face as he looked into viewfinder, snapping the picture. Once it exited the slot, Copia pulled it out and waved it around so it could develop, but Rob plucked it out of his fingers before he could see it.

The Cardinal turned, dejectedly trudging back to his spot, but that’s when your sweet voice called out to him.

“Co-Co, come here! Take a picture with me!”

The man turned, gazing at you with those sorrowful puppy dog eyes. “M-me?” He asked pitifully.

“Yes you, silly. Come here.” You grinned, beckoning him closer with a come-hither motion.

Copia’s freckled cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red as he frantically smoothed his hair back, wanting to look his best.

“Do you want him in the group pict-”

“No, I want it to be just me and the Cardinal.” You cut Mable off with a smile.

“Ehm… Okie dokie..” Copia hesitantly shuffled over to you, his hands anxiously clasped in front of him, making him look even more like a pitiful little rat than usual. You rose to your feet, biting your lip coyly and grabbing the Cardinal’s lovehandles, pulling him closer until his hips were touching yours. The man released a trembling exhale as his cock pressed into you, his painted eyes glued to where your bodies were connected.

“Let’s do one like this.” You decided. Copia stiffly stood facing the camera, and you took his arm and placed it around your waist while you wrapped your arms around his middle, looking back at the camera with a coquettish smile. Yup, a shameless ass shot. But who could blame you when you looked that good? With the pretty ocean view in the background, Mable snapped the picture.

“Take another one!” You said, and with an additional bright flash, the auburn-haired sister captured an additional photograph.

You took the Polaroids from her, waving them around until they developed. You studied them closely, a grin spreading across your face.

“Do I… ehm- D-do I.. look okay?” Copia murmured nervously.

“You look very handsome, Cardinal.” You giggled, handing him one of the pictures. You loved the nervous, deer-in-the-headlights look that Copia had in the photos, his cheeks flushed bright red as he awkwardly stood there with his arm around you.

“T-thank you, Sorella, a-although I would beg to differ…” Copia shook his head, incredibly flustered at your compliment, his eyes widening considerably when his gaze scanned over the picture. With your ass towards the camera and your kittenish smirk, the Cardinal felt as though he was seeing something he shouldn’t. He tried to hand the Polaroid back to you, but you shook your head.

“One for each of us.” You told him.

The Cardinal looked at you with those big, eager puppy eyes and parted lips, a spark of excitement coursing through him. He followed you back to your beach towel, studying the precious Polaroid intently before tucking it away safely with his things. He would definitely be looking at it every night before he went to sleep and every morning before he pulled himself out of bed.

You sat down, watching as the other sisters carded through the pictures from your little photoshoot.

“Wow, these turned out fantastic!” Ava commented, with Rob leaning over her shoulder to get a closer look.

“Yeah, I’m sure Papa will appreciate them!” Lilith giggled wildly, reaching to grab as many as she could.

“No!” You laughed, scrambling to grab the rest of the Polaroids before she could get them.

Lilith smirked triumphantly as she tucked away half of the photos into her bag, causing you to roll your eyes. You looked over your copies before handing them to your dear Cardinal.

“Ehm- Wh-”

“You can keep them. They’re all just ones of me anyway.” You shrugged before turning back to your friends. “I’ll take one of the group pictures though, for my diary.”

“The one you write in with the pink glitter gel pen?” Mable teased.

You gasped at her spot-on guess. “Duh! What else would I ever use?” You giggled.

Copia’s expression was priceless as he flipped through the photographs, his feverish flush spreading to the tips of his ears and chest as he bit his lip, taking in your flirtatious expressions and seductive poses. Sweet Satan, he’d cherish these forever!

The Cardinal decided then that he would make it a nightly routine to raptly examine every detail of these pictures before he fell asleep. That way- he hoped- he’d dream of you. And perhaps he’d also… No, no, he couldn’t. Copia couldn’t possibly pleasure himself to your image. He couldn’t bring himself to take advantage of your kindness like that; he didn’t want to act like a depraved pervert. But lately at night Copia had been feeling so hot, so needy, utterly consumed with thoughts of you. He desperately sought some sort of satisfaction, sometimes even thrusting against his mattress while he muffled his whines with his pillow, tears pricking at his eyes while they rolled back in his head. He tried not to finish- although a few times he accidentally blew his load- because he didn’t want to tarnish your image by cumming to the thought of you. The poor man just needed a few thrusts to alleviate the throbbing ache in his hard cock, just enough to satiate him through the night. It always left him whimpering and febrile as he drifted off to sleep.

“What, don’t I get one? I’ll trade you!” Rob asked, gesturing to the photos you had just handed to Copia.

“If you wanna play Pokémon cards with my swimsuit pictures, you’re more than welcome to do so with the Cardinal. And Papa I guess, whenever Lilith gives him his stash.” You smirked, causing your other Sisters of Sin to laugh.

“Sorry Rob, but I doubt the Cardinal would ever give those pictures up. You’d probably have to pry them out of his cold, dead hands.” Emily remarked in amusement.

After realizing he had been intensely staring at your pictures for an inappropriate amount of time, Copia scrambled to deposit them in his wallet along with the one of you and him, careful not to bend or crease them in any way.

After a while, you stood up, your pouty lips quirking upwards into a kittenish smirk as you caught Copia staring at your buxom figure, practically drooling.

“Well, I think I’m gonna go for a dip in the water!” You announced. “Care to join?” You asked, your eyes catching Copia’s.

“S-Si…” He nodded, rising to his feet and trailing alongside you as you waded into the sparkling, viridescent water. It was refreshing yet still warmly inviting, lacking the usual cruel bite of chilliness that the seawater sometimes had.

“Oh, it’s wonderful!” You sighed, taking a deep breath and relaxing into the water. You stole a glance back at Copia, pleased to see that he was enjoying himself, a small smile having crept onto his countenance. After being so hot and bothered by you, the man gratefully welcomed the revitalizing sensation of the ocean.

You made your way into the water until you were about chest-deep, the two of you sharing a comfortable silence as you both swam around a little bit, dipping under the water and splashing around. You taught Copia how to do a somersault, giggling at his attempts and cheering for him when he finally got the hang of it.

You admired Copia as he slicked his wet hair back, the sultry summer weather making you feel frisky.

“Thank you for bringing us here, Cardinal.” You gazed at the man with your big doe eyes, drifting closer to him.

“It- ehm, i-it was nothing, Sorella… T-Thank you for having me.” Copia shook his head, nervously running a hand through his hair.

“Aah!” You suddenly yelped, jumping into the Cardinal’s arms, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist.

“W-what??” Copia asked you worriedly, his hands subconsciously finding your waist as he held you protectively.

“I felt something touch my leg!” You told him. You knew it was most likely a clump of seaweed, but being in your darling Cardinal’s arms made you feel safe and warm, among other things.

“W-well, don’t worry, Sorella, ehm, I’ve got you.” Copia reassured you, his deep blush quickly returning. You only tightened your legs around the man, stifling a pleasured gasp as you felt his stiff throbbing and twitching right against your clit.

“What if there are sharks?” You mused, brushing a stray lock of wet hair off the man’s forehead, noticing how the lines on his face began to deepen as he let out a strained exhale.

“I-I-I will p-protect you, Sorella.” He nodded, doing his best to dispel your fears while also trying so hard not to moan or grind against your core. With each flowing ocean wave, your body was pressed against him more, shifting back and forth deliciously. Your touch was enough to drive the man insane; he was hyper aware of all the places that your body was connected to his.

“You’re going to protect me… from a shark?” You smirked, raising an eyebrow, shaking your arms around his shoulders just a bit tighter.

“Well, I- Ehm-” The Cardinal suddenly felt silly.

“What if it takes a bite out of you?” You asked. “Like this?” You leaned in close, grazing your teeth against Copia’s neck, giving him a gentle nip.

“Ah-!” He whimpered, his arms encircling your waist even more tightly, drawing you impossibly closer. You met his eyes once more when you felt his big cock jump.

“Are you alright, Cardinal?” You giggled seductively. “Is everything copacetic?”

Copia nodded, dazed by you, intoxicated by your close proximity.

And you, well you had to admit that you weren’t in much better shape. You couldn’t help the excited little gasp that tumbled from your lips at the feeling of the Cardinal’s thick cock pressing into your hypersensitive clit.

“Poor Cardinal.” You tutted. “Here, you can get me back for biting you.” You grinned, moving your hair away from your neck and offering yourself to Copia.

He stiffened, then, staring at you with those wide, dumbstruck eyes. Unsure of what to do, he very slowly leaned in in in, his lips hesitantly ghosting against your soft skin. You felt him shiver as he breathed you in, your lips parting in a soft sigh when you felt his teeth cautiously make contact with your neck. He lingered there for a moment, but the feeling of his thin moustache against your sensitive flesh had you suddenly squirming.

“Your moustache is tickling me!” You let out a squealing giggle and he pulled away bashfully, unable to meet your gaze.

“What the fuck are they doing?” Rob asked, squinting as he tried to make out what you and Copia were getting up to.

“Ew. I literally have no idea.” Emily responded, equal parts disgusted and confused.

“Well come on, let’s get in the water! It’s so hot out here!” Ava chirped.

You pulled away from Copia once you spotted all your friends joining you, leaving the man craving your closeness once more, hungry for your touch.

“The water’s great, isn’t it?” You beamed before turning back to Copia, but before you could vocalize what you were going to say to him, you felt someone tugging the strings of your bikini top. Before you could reach for it, the small top sprung off you as it was pulled undone, landing somewhere in the water and leaving your breasts exposed. Your arms flew up to cover yourself, but Copia had already caught a glimpse.

He flinched, mouth hanging open, eyes wide as pies as another spurt of blood gushed from his nose.

You turned, casting a dirty glance at your perpetrator, which happened to be a hysterically laughing Rob.

“You scoundrel!” You tried to smack at him with the arm that wasn’t covering your tits, before you tried to locate your bikini top in the water. You frantically searched before a dazed, blushing, and bloody Copia nervously held up the small scrap of fabric, holding it out to you with shaking hands. You gratefully took it from him, your own eyes widening at the stream of scarlet oozing down his face for the second time today. The poor man’s mismatched eyes couldn’t help but remain trained on your barely-covered breasts as he gaped at you. And thank Satan the waist-deep water obscured his lower half, because his cock was now fully hard and would probably be embarrassingly noticeable.

“You rotten boy, you!” Mable scolded Rob as she rushed over to help you tie your top, while you moved to cup Copia’s face in your hands.

“Oh, Cardinal, are you alright??” You looked him over worriedly, wiping his blood away and splashing some seawater onto his face.

“I…… I-I-….” He stammered, seemingly paralyzed. Copia couldn’t seem to get the brief image of your bare breasts and pert, pink nipples out of his head.

Once Mable was finished securing your bikini, you moved a bit closer to the Cardinal, only to find yourself being poked by something big, thick, and hard.

You gasped and looked downward, heat pooling deep within you when you realized it was Copia’s impressive length that was poking at you.

You stepped forward, closing the gap between you, a coy smirk gracing your features at the way Copia bit his lip to stifle a moan, a shock of pleasure coursing through him as his cock fully pressed into you.

“Well, it seems like you enjoyed that eyeful, you perverted little rat.” You whispered into Copia’s ear, your hands snaking up to his freckled shoulders.

The man stiffened, his blood running cold as you acknowledged his obvious arousal.

“S-Sorella, p-please, I- M-Mi dispiace, Sorella, I didn’t- I-I didn’t mean to- I- P-P-Please forgive me.” The pitiful man quietly pleaded, the pretty lines on his face deepening significantly with guilt and shame, his eyes filled with doleful contrition.

“I forgive you.” You replied, your smouldering gaze burning into him, so close that the tips of your noses were just barely brushing together. “I won’t blame you for being a depraved virgin.” You bit your lip.

The Cardinal released a piteous whimper, his eyes fluttering closed momentarily. You felt his cock jump against you as he gasped out another quiet apology.

With a devilish little smirk, you regarded the man through your thick lashes.

Copia strained, every muscle in his body longing to rut himself against you until completion, but every voice in his head screaming at him not to do it. He one hundred percent; absolutely; in no way, shape, or form, could ever do anything like that to you. He couldn’t let you think he was a dirty old creep. But Satanas, you had such a profound effect on the man. Copia couldn’t take it anymore, not when you were gazing at him with those pretty fuck-me eyes, your delectable body pressed against his.

Oh, how your heart swelled for your poor Cardinal. You wanted him, you needed him, you wished you could have him right this instant. For a brief moment, you leaned a bit closer, craving Copia’s inexperienced lips once more.

The man’s eyes widened considerably. Were you going to- Could you be…? Kissing him?

But then your name was being shouted and just as you turned, a black and white beach ball was soaring through the air, headed straight towards you. It narrowly missed you, instead hitting the Cardinal in the head and bouncing off him to land in the water.

You were unable to stifle the giggle that erupted from your lips, and the Cardinal blushed shyly with an awkward smile, nervously running a hand through his damp hair. He loved making you smile that beautiful smile, even if he had to be made a fool to achieve it.

•𖤐•

You all stood in a circle and volleyed the ball around for a while, which Copia was actually surprisingly good at. You were terribly competitive, and you made a good team with your Cardinal. You even managed to spike the ball, causing Rob to miss a handful of times.

After you reached 13 points- your lucky number- you pulled Copia into a congratulatory hug.

“We won!” You squealed, giggling as he timidly wrapped his arms around you too, a little grin finding its way into his handsome features.

And after a while of frolicking around in the glimmering water some more, you decided to sunbathe again, beginning to swim to shore. Copia obsequiously trailed behind you, following you like a lost puppy because he was so eager to be near you. You ran to your towel, picking it up off the ground and wrapping it around both you and the Cardinal to dry off.

The man blushed as you drew him in close, allowing himself the pleasure of gazing at your splendorous beauty with needy eyes; his lips twitching, aching to be kissed. Ever since he got a taste of you at the sleepover, Copia had been fiercely desiderating you. Every moment without your lips on his felt dull; as if things weren’t as they should be.

“You look like a drowned rat.” You commented softly, reaching up to his pretty face and wiping away some wet streaks of black paint that were beginning to drip down Copia’s freckled cheeks.

The Cardinal sighed quietly, leaning into your gentle touch. “W-well, eh.. Y-You look just as beautiful wet as you do d-dry, Sorella.” He dared to say, nothing but earnestness in his mismatched eyes.

“You like me wet, Cardinal?” You asked coyly, batting your eyelashes at him.

Copia’s breath caught in his throat as he realized the double entendre. “N-No, I! I didn’t mean, I-I was t-trying to say-”

You giggled. “I know what you mean, Co-Co, I’m only teasing.” You smirked, placing the towel back onto the sand before laying down on it, allowing the hot sun to warm you.

“Oh.. Heh heh… Ehh, good one.” Copia sat beside you with a nervous chuckle.

Your friends joined you shortly after, catching some rays and talking amongst themselves.

That is, until Rob started impressing your sisters by doing pushups.

“Wow, you’re so strong!” Emily beamed, clasping her hands together excitedly.

“That’s nothing, ladies! Watch this!” Rob chuckled, beginning to do one-handed pushups.

“Oh my Satan, that’s incredible!” The other sisters squealed in unison, causing you to roll your eyes so hard you thought you might tear your optic nerves.

“Hey. You work out, Rat Man?” Rob asked, coming to stand in front of the two of you, not-so-subtly flexing his muscles.

“Ah, no, I… I, ehm… I don’t…” Copia responded self consciously, timidly shaking his head.

Rob looked the man over. “Well… you should. Might help you out with the ladies.” He shrugged. “Y’know, I do 666 pushups every morning for the glory of Satan.” He bragged, his chiseled chest puffed out like a proud peacock.

The inhibited Cardinal folded his arms over himself, his self esteem nosediving even more than it already had. He remained meek and quiet, unsure of what to say. Surely, he was no match for the boy. Copia felt silly for desiring you so madly when, in reality, you would probably fancy someone younger, better looking, and much more socially apt; like Rob.

But while Rob was boasting something about ‘pumping iron’ and how much girls like ‘swole guys’, you scooter closer to Copia, cupping a hand over his ear.

“Don’t let him bother you. He’s just jealous that I kissed you at the sleepover.” You whispered with a smirk.

Copia’s eyes widened and he turned to look at you, the tip of his pointy nose gently bumping into yours. “D-Davvero..?” He asked, his face reddening as you brought up the best moment of his life.

“Uh huh.” You whispered into his ear once more, pulling him close and hooking your other arm around his neck. “I know the girls told him all the juicy details. He’s probably so mad that you got to have something that he wants but can’t have. You know, I wouldn’t even kiss him if I was dared to.” You giggled quietly.

The poor Cardinal felt as through he’d faint. What was that supposed to mean? You would be willing to break the rules of truth or dare to get out of kissing Rob, yet you didn’t do that when you were dared to kiss him. Could that mean…? Copia inwardly scolded himself. No, no, it couldn’t possibly mean you wanted to kiss him. Surely, you just held more pity for him than you did for Rob. You probably figured that Rob had the potential for other prospects, whereas Copia was a loser who would never be kissed otherwise. It was an act of charity. Nothing more.

“S-Sorella you.. You don’t need to flatter me…” He murmured, looking at you through his lashes, and you only had the chance to grin at the man flirtatiously before you were being interrupted.

“What are you whispering about?” Rob asked once he realized you weren’t listening to him, crossing his arms.

“Oh, just something that happened at the sleepover.” You stated casually. “You wouldn’t understand because you weren’t there.” You articulated with a coy little smirk, causing Rob to let out an annoyed huff.

Copia stared at you in awe. Rob was actually envious of him? Surely, anyone would be envious of the person who got to kiss you, however, Copia wasn’t at all used to the thought of others being jealous of him. Even his high rank in the clergy never compelled a single soul to covet anything about him.

Rob sniffed indignantly, passively muttering something under his breath, trying to act casual and save face as he sat back down in his spot.

“Ew, are you actually having a conversation about your little spit-swapping sesh?” Emily scoffed.

“Yeah, maybe.” You shot back with a sly grin, thrilling Copia with your temerity.

“Giving him some tips, perhaps?” Lilith joked.

“Hmm, I could tutor him. He could be my little pet project.” You hummed, thoughtfully placing a finger to your chin. “I’ll make him the best kisser in the whole damn ministry.”

“Even better than Papa?” Ava giggled, egging you on.

“Yeah, even better than Papa. Don’t tell him I said that, though.” You giggled.

“And how do you expect to turn that,” Emily gestured to the pathetic Cardinal, “into the best kisser in the whole damn ministry?”

You shrugged. “I dunno, but I always heard practice makes perfect.”

You devil, you. Copia stared at you in shock, his breath catching in his throat, chest tightening, face going scarlet. Sweet Lucifer Morningstar, he was- Well, aside from extremely flustered, he was impressed. Copia often wondered where you got so much moxie at such a young age, because, despite being a fifty year old man, he would never have the nerve to be so bold. The Cardinal quite admired that dauntless, borderline reckless quality of yours. He only wished he could be so audacious, but his near-crippling introversion always prevented him; so instead he lived vicariously through you in such moments.

“I like your freckles.” You murmured endearingly. “It seems like there’s more of them now.” You remarked, looking over the smattering on his sun-reddened shoulders and the bridge of his nose.

“O-Oh, g-grazie, Sorella…” Copia’s eyes flicked down to his lap, bashfully wringing his hands together while his poor heart skipped a beat. But… More of them? Oh, for the love of Satan, he forgot to-

“Ah, shit!” Copia huffed out, urgently searching for the sunscreen. “I-I forgot to- to put this on…” He squirted some into his palm, smearing it onto his exposed skin.

“I-I don’t tan well… I just get red and, ehh, a lot more freckles… and I burn.” He explained, rubbing a healthy amount down his legs.

You caught yourself staring at his thighs and the… hefty package between them. Licking your flushed lips, you squirmed in your spot a bit, becoming painfully aware of the blisteringly hot, needy ache deep inside you. Sweet Satan, you were horny for this pitiful little man. As much as you flustered Copia, he somehow managed to have the same maddening effect on you, winding you up with indescribable lust; igniting a whorish spirit in you.

However, despite your flirtatious and sexually confident behaviour towards the Cardinal, you had only ever been with one man; someone in the ministry, someone much older than you. But… it wasn’t a Sibling of Sin. It was short lived, just enough to allow your sexual awakening to blossom, enough to allow you to realize the profound effect you had on others. It was just enough to prepare you for Copia, and now you were ready for him. You wanted him. You wanted to ravish each other in ways that would make Lucifer himself blush.

Shaking the thoughts from your head, you composed yourself and calmed your heaving breasts, inching a bit closer to your Cardinal.

“Oh! Well, we can’t have you burning! Here, you helped me earlier, let me return the favour.” You offered, reaching over and smoothing some cream onto his shoulders, calming the fretful little rat with your enchanting touch. He sighed while you smoothed your hands down his arms before gently dabbing some onto his cheeks, nose, chin, and forehead, taking extra special care of his pretty face.

“There. You’re all set.” You smiled, placing a hand on Copia’s thigh, not missing the way he flinched at how your fingertips almost brushed against the spot where he needed you most.

“W- Eh- G-G-Grazie, Sorella…” He stammered nervously, looking slightly alarmed as he gazed into your eyes.

“No problem.” You murmured, keeping your naughty little hand there for a moment longer before pulling away and laying down to sunbathe.

•𖤐•

After a while of relaxation, you suddenly sat up, regarding Copia.

“Hey, do you know CPR?” You enquired.

“Oh, ehm, n-no I don’t.” The man shook his head.

“Want me to teach you?” You offered. “It’s an important thing to know in case of emergency.”

“O-Okay.” Copia nodded, seemingly impressed by your skill.

Smiling excitedly, you pushed the Cardinal down to lay on his back, kneeling beside him and leaning over to look into his anxious eyes.

“Alright, I’ve just pulled you out of the water. You’re unconscious.” You stated. “First I’ll listen to see if you’re breathing.” You leaned down further, waiting ten seconds.

“Am… Am I breathing, Sorella?” Copia whispered.

“No, you’re not.” You giggled. “So now I’ll start CPR.” You interlocked your fingers together with one hand on top of the other, beginning to mime chest compressions over Copia’s sternum.

“The compressions can’t be too high or too low, just right in between the nipples.” You said, noticing the way Copia’s eyes were fixated on your bouncing breasts. “And the ratio is thirty compressions to two breaths.”

Copia nodded, attempting to stay focused and retain the information. After counting thirty, you halted your movements and gently lifted the Cardinal’s chin, looking into his eyes.

His heart began to hammer wildly in his chest as you dipped down, slowly pressing your lips to his.

Copia gasped against your soft lips, and you stayed there for a moment before pulling away. “One.” You whispered, before placing the second kiss to his open mouth. “And two.” You pulled away, regarding the confounded man with a small smirk on your face.

“There. Did I revive you?” You asked dreamily. Before Copia could nod, you spoke again. “Or.. do you think you need another round?”

Were you saying what Copia thought you were saying? Were you asking if he wanted you to kiss him again?

“W-Well, ehm… P-Perhaps you can, eh, show me again?” The Cardinal warily agreed with you, thinking it too good to be true.

“If the victim remains unconscious, you’ll have to keep doing this until paramedics arrive with an ambulance.” You said, beginning the mock chest compressions again. And although your movements were quick, thirty went by slowly for the Cardinal while he tried not to leer at your breasts and eagerly awaited your lips.

Sure enough, right on cue, you were gently grasping Copia’s chin and dipping down again, your parted lips against his.

Copia sighed in ecstasy, tasting your fruit punch gloss as his painted eyes fluttered closed. And- was it just his imagination, or were these kisses longer than the last ones?

You pulled away for a brief moment before repeating the action, and Copia had to stop himself from wrapping his arms around you. These weren’t supposed to be actual kisses, and he was supposed to be unconscious anyway.

“Are you alive now?” You murmured against the man’s lips, pulling away just enough to look into his pretty mismatched eyes, which were now gazing up at you.

“I-I think so, but… I am not so sure…” He responded quietly. “Because, ehm, w-well, it seems as though I am looking at a b-beautiful fallen angel, si? Perhaps I died and went to paradiso infernale after all…” A shy smile crept onto his face, his blush deepening.

You grinned. Your little rat was getting daring.

“Are you flirting with me, Rat?” You questioned quizzically.

“Eh-! I-I am just telling the truth, Sorella.” Copia faltered, casting his gaze off to the side.

“Hm. You’re sweet.” You smiled, stroking a finger down the Cardinal’s cheek and under his chin, causing him to release a little sigh.

“What in Satan’s name are you even doing?” Emily interjected.

“Teaching Co-Co CPR. Duh?” You shrugged, sitting upright.

“Yeah, no shit, but last time I checked you don’t have to literally kiss while demonstrating it.” She countered, looking disgusted that your lips had actually touched Copia’s, voluntarily this time.

“Yeah, you never did that for me when you taught us how to do it.” Rob smirked. “Maybe I need a refresher, how do you do it again?”

“You literally just got a refresher right now. Don’t think I didn’t see you staring.” You shot back with a smirk of your own.

“Why does he even need to learn CPR? He’s never around anyone and I don’t think it works on rats.” Lilith chimed in, earning giggles from your other friends.

“Well what if something happened to you and no one was around? In case of emergency, he’d know how to do it.” You argued.

“I don’t know about Lilith, but I think I’d rather die than let him do mouth to mouth on me.” Emily scoffed. “So, Rat, if you ever see me passed out somewhere, just walk away.” She laughed.

You rolled your eyes, placing a gentle hand on Copia’s arm while he dejectedly stared down at his lap, averting his humiliated gaze from everyone. He didn’t want them to see the hurt in his eyes while they openly discussed their disgust towards him.

“It’s my turn. Are you gonna revive me?” You whispered close to his ear.

Copia met your eyes briefly and nodded, causing an excited grin to bloom on your pretty face. You laid down on your back, closing your eyes and appearing as insensate as possible. “Alright, I’m unconscious.”

“O-Oh! Ehm!” Copia exclaimed, leaning over you, unsure of what to do. “Ehhh….”

“You have to listen for my breathing first, remember?” You whispered, eyes fluttering open. Grabbing Copia by the collar of his swimsuit, you pushed his face directly into your tits, grinning when you heard a muffled gasp coming from your cleavage.

“Am I breathing?” You asked.

“No…?” Copia responded, his face still pressed against your breasts. Unholy Satanas, what a dream! His heart was pounding in his ears, cock throbbing as he melted into you.

You bit your lip to suppress a giggle when Emily muttered something about the whole situation looking like the beginning of a pornographic film.

“Okay, so you can start CPR now.” You instructed, releasing the man.

Coming up for air, Copia was dazed, his mind blissfully blank as he attempted to regain his composure. He could have kept his face buried in your perfect tits for eternity. And if he would have suffocated? Oh, what a way to go!

Clearing his throat, he interlocked his fingers together just as you had done, getting into position, and-

“That’s too low.” You interrupted, taking Copia’s hands placing them on your breasts, his fingertips brushing against your nipples through the thin fabric of your bikini top.

“S-Sorella, I-!” Copia gasped, eyes widened in alarm, and you slowly dragged his hands across your chest to meet in the middle.

“Right in between the nipples, remember?” You reminded the poor man, and he nodded quickly, biting his lip and lacing his fingers together over your sternum.

Oh, but how could he possibly concentrate when he felt so dirty? You were trying to teach him a valuable skill, and yet here he was being a little creep about it. He hoped you wouldn’t notice, and if you did, he desperately prayed you wouldn’t hold it against him. It wasn’t his fault he was so touch-starved, so deprived of anything close to affectionate all his life. And it also wasn’t his fault that you were so gorgeous. No man would stand a chance against your infernal beauty.

Straightening his arms, he began to nervously practice the chest compressions, counting quietly in Italian under his breath.

“You’re doing very good.” You commented, causing the Cardinal to falter slightly in his movements, his face turning bright red at your praise.

He grew more and more anxious as he approached thirty, knowing what would have to come next.

“Ventotto.. ventinove.. t-trenta.” He finished, staring at you almost fearfully once he was done.

You looked at Copia expectantly, but the man was frozen like a deer in the headlights.

“What, do you forget what you’re supposed to do next?” You questioned. “Were you paying attention while I was teaching you or were you just staring at my tits the whole time like a dirty old man?” You smirked.

Copia’s eyes widened, his lips twitching. He knew what he had to do next but… yes, he had, in fact, been ogling your breasts. Could you blame the poor man? The view had been simply breathtaking.

“I-I-I know w-what to do, eh-”

“Then do it.” You told him. “Come on Rat, resuscitate me, I can feel myself slipping away. I think I see Satan waiting for me at the fiery gates!” You giggled.

Copia sucked in a breath, leaning over you and tilting your chin up with a gentle yet shaking hand. He kept repeating to himself in his head that was just CPR. Nothing more. But his hot flush only worsened when you parted your delectable lips for him. The humid summer air was only made thicker with tension as you gazed up at the Cardinal with those pretty fuck-me eyes, waiting patiently for your salvation.

The pitiful man ever so slowly closed the gap between you both, your senses electrifying as his lips touched yours. You couldn’t escape the small hum of satisfaction, and Copia accidentally released a whimper.

Maybe you weren’t all that different from Terzo after all, because you were so incredibly tempted to snake your arms around the Cardinal and turn mouth-to-mouth into a passionately sinful tongue-kiss.

You had far better resolve than your Papa, however, so you remained still. After all, you loved teasing him like this; allowing him to almost kiss you, but not quite.

Copia pulled away for half a second before eagerly pressing his lips to yours once more, so needy for any sort of contact with you. And you, you were needy for this too. The way his thin moustache tickled your face, the intoxicating scent of his cologne mixed with the fresh smell of sea water, the way he was tilting your chin up so delicately, as if you’d break if he handled you too roughly. What a sweet little mouse; Copia touched you as if you were a priceless treasure.

Reluctantly, he pulled away for good when he heard your friends making comments about how he was a pervert. About how he was enjoying this way too much.

But as soon as he was back in his place, you made a show of sitting upright and falling happily into his arms.

“My hero! You saved me.” You sighed dreamily, wrapping your arms around his neck and brushing a handsome lock of hair from his forehead.

Cupping his jaw in one hand, you pressed a rewarding kiss to his lips. Copia swore he heard the sound of a tea kettle whistling while stars painted his vision; his heart hammering in his chest, hearts in his eyes, and cock throbbing, nearly driving him to insanity. It was lucky that the kiss was brief, otherwise he would have started thumping his foot like an excited dog.

You grinned naughtily at him while he stared at you in giddy awe, huffing out a little chuckle and looking like the happiest man from here to Hell.

Your friends rolled their eyes at your theatrics, muttering things amongst themselves while Rob crossed his arms, trying not to look, but failing. They just couldn’t wrap their minds around the fact that the most popular girl in the ministry would ever waste time with a loser like Copia. They were still waiting for the other shoe to drop, holding onto their theories that you were planning to break his heart eventually.

•𖤐•

“Hey, Rattie?” You nudged Copia.

“S-Si, Sorella?” He looked over to you attentively.

“Do you see that little snack place over there?” You pointed to a cute little shack not too far away. The man glanced to where you were directing him, then turned back to you and nodded.

“Could you see it in your heart to get me a soft serve vanilla ice cream? Pretty please?” You pouted.

A handsome little smile found it’s way onto Copia’s face. “Of course, Sorella.”

“Satan bless you, Cardinal!” You beamed. “Here, I still have the ministry credit card that Sister Imperator gave me.” You said, fishing the rich black card out of your bag and handing it to him.

“Wait, you’re getting ice cream?? I want some too!” Ava whined, followed by the rest of the sisters agreeing, all shouting their orders at the same time.

“S-So, eh, let me get this straight, si? Vaniglia, eh, sorbetto all’arancia, fragola, ehh, cioccolato, menta, e nocciola?” Copia asked, pointing to each person when he listed off their order. Surprisingly, he got it all correct, and began to walk to the snack stand. You giggled to yourself, hearing him quietly chant the string of ice cream flavours over and over again so he wouldn’t forget.

•𖤐•

Copia returned after a while, carefully balancing two trays of ice cream cones in his hands, careful to not let them fall over. Rob, in a surprising act of charity, jumped up and helped the man distribute the cold treats to the other sisters.

The Cardinal was making sheep’s eyes at you while he handed you your cone, which you excitedly thanked him for.

He had gotten the same thing as you- vanilla soft serve- and he was just about to take his first lick, when Rob patted him roughly on the back, causing him to drop the entire thing into the sand.

“Thanks for the ice cream, Cardinal!” Rob said before sitting back down with your friends, not even noticing what he had done.

“Rob, you just made Co-Co drop his ice cream!” You scolded him.

“Huh?” Rob looked over. “Oh, sorry dude.”

“Eh, t-that’s okay, I go get another one, si?” The Cardinal nodded, turning just in time to see the ice cream man walking away after placing a sign on the bar that read ‘Gone for lunch.’

Sighing defeatedly, Copia sat down next to you.

“Share with me, Cardinal.” You offered, holding your cone out to him.

“No, no, I-”

“Oh, won’t you please, Cardinal? It’s so big and it’s already melting. I won’t be able to finish it in time anyway.” You insisted, already moving closer to him.

The man finally gave in with a timid nod, wrapping his hand around yours that was holding the cone, and swiping his tongue through the cold dessert.

You grinned, licking your side of the ice cream and enjoying the sweet taste.

However, your frozen treat was no match for the sweltering sun, and soon, melty white cream was dripping down your and Copia’s wrists. You made quick work to lick it off of yourself, only for more to trickle back down.

Stealing a glance at your Cardinal, you couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of him. He had ice cream dripping down his lips and chin; and he tried to eat faster, but the poor man was being overwhelmed.

“Cardinal, you’re a mess.” You giggled softly, gently cupping his cheek with your hand, grabbing his attention. You moved closer to the blushing man, his mismatched eyes following the drops of ice cream that began to drip onto your breasts and cleavage, a few even falling onto your thighs. Copia swallowed hard, a wave of guilt washing over him as he imagined laving his tongue over your supple flesh, worshipping every inch of you.

You took him by surprise, then, leaning in and licking his lips, causing his widened eyes to snap up and meet your half-lidded ones.

“You’re a sticky mess.” You whispered against his lips, your naughty little tongue teasing at the corner of his mouth.

Copia’s lips parted in a quiet whimper, a pitiful gasp leaving him when you gave him another little lick. Lucifer, he was even more delicious than the ice cream.

“I, ehm… I-I don’t t-think you’re too much better, Sorella…” Copia replied nervously, struggling to meet your gaze.

“You’re right. I guess we’ll just have to lick each other clean.” Your sultry giggle made Copia’s cock twitch. With the ice cream you were holding now almost completely melted, it freely dripped onto the both of you. However, it still wasn’t quite as drippy as Copia’s throbbing cock.

Giving the ice cream one last lick- and accidentally drenching yourself in the process- you tossed the soggy cone into the sand and brought your little hand up, sucking your fingers clean one by one.

Your eyes never left Copia’s, and the man almost seemed hypnotized by the movement of your lips and tongue. You could practically read his mind; you just knew he was imagining you sucking his cock and finally giving him the release he so desperately craved, hungrily drinking down every last drop of his cum.

Biting your lip, you released another naughty giggle as you snaked an arm around the Cardinal’s neck, your parted lips ghosting along his jaw and chin under the guise of licking ice cream off him. He sighed, leaning into you, heady excitement bubbling inside him as your lips just barely touched his. It’s as if you were teasing him, taunting him, daring him to just let go of his inhibitions and kiss you. To kiss you how he really wants to; deeply and passionately and needily.

But the shy Cardinal restrained himself, not believing that’s what you truly wanted. He suspected that his perception of your playful behaviour was clouded by his own fantasies and yearnings. However, he still enjoyed your closeness, small sighs escaping him as his nose brushed against yours.

Copia wrapped an arm around your waist when he felt you tipping backwards, but you only pulled him with you as you laid back on your towel, and the man fell slightly on top of you, stuttering out timid little apologies while you grinned up at him adoringly. He was slotted right in between your legs, fitting together with you perfectly.

Running a finger through the melty cream on your breasts, you licked your fingers, snickering at the Cardinal’s pitifully concupiscent expression while you mercilessly teased him.

Copia blushed furiously. You were laughing at him, weren’t you? Laughing at the way he was so helplessly enthralled by you. Laughing at the way he huffed out quiet little whines every time his cock pulsed. And- oh, how embarrassing; he realized

you could probably feel his thick length throbbing against you, hot and hard and heavy with sheer need.

But his addiction to you mixed with the debilitating summer heat rendered him unable to move. He just laid there, staring down at you with blown out pupils and parted lips.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled Copia closer closer closer, so close that your sticky lips were just barely brushing against his. Every nerve in the man’s body was alit with fiery anticipation, wondering if you were going to kiss him.

“Move. I’m gonna go for a swim to rinse all this ice cream off, if you wanna come.” You murmured.

Disappointed, Copia only swallowed nervously, blinking silently at you.

“Do you want to come, Cardinal? Hm? Do you want to cum?” You smiled innocently, but that naughty gleam in your eyes glinted dangerously.

“Y-yes please, Sorella.” He nodded eagerly, utterly entranced by the sight of you underneath him, your hair spread all around your head like a halo.

“Then get off me, you little creep. I can’t move otherwise.” You giggled softly and rolled your hips against him to snap him out of his trance, causing the poor Cardinal to flush an even deeper shade of red, a strangled moan catching in his throat.

“M-Mi dispiace…” He mumbled, scrambling to get off you. You stood, taking his hand in yours; a soothing balm to his humiliation.

“Where are you guys going?” Rob asked.

“We’re gonna go do 69 behind the snack bar.” You deadpanned, completely shocking everyone, including Copia, who- once again- nearly got whiplash from turning to look at you so quickly.

“We’re going for a swim, duh, what else would we be doing at the beach?” You scoffed, huffing out a light laugh. “We’re all sticky from that melty ice cream and we need to wash off.”

“Oh, thank Lucifer! I thought you were being serious about doing 69 for a second!” Ava laughed, causing the other sisters to titter in amusement. Copia sniffed, feeling sensitive; feeling despondent at how the thought of doing anything intimate with him was used in jest.

“Maybe I wasn’t joking.” You shrugged mindlessly, driving the lot of your friends mad with your arbitrary capriciousness. The Cardinal looked to you once more, a glimmer of hope in his mournful eyes; that little spark of hope soon growing into a roaring wildfire when you took his hand once more and firmly pulled him along in the direction of the snack shop.

“Oh come on!” You heard one of your friends call after you, but you only walked away with greater determination, tugging the dazed Cardinal along with you.

Copia nervously licked his lips once you arrived behind the small building, his anticipation becoming too much to handle as you leaned up against the cool brick, pulling him closer.

“You look scared, Rat. Don’t worry, I won’t deflower you.” You smirked kittenishly, toying with the collar of the man’s swimsuit.

“You.. Eh, y-you won’t..? T-then, ehm, w-why are we..? W-won’t your amici think…?” He questioned, trying to conceal his utter disappointment behind a veil of lighthearted curiosity.

You shrugged. “Let them think what they want. If they want to imagine us devouring each other in the throes of passion, they’re more than welcome to.” You giggled nonchalantly, strategically planting the maddening image in Copia’s mind, and you swore the man was stifling a needy whine.

You gazed at each other in comfortable silence, enjoying the alone time, away from the condemnatory stare of your friends. You could see the yearning in the Cardinal’s mismatched eyes, and you were longing for him too. You were just having way too much fun to do anything about it for now. After a few tension-ridden moments, you took Copia’s hand in yours, pulling him towards the water, looking back at him and flashing him with your pretty smile, causing butterflies to erupt in the man’s stomach.

“Come on, let’s go for a swim!”

•𖤐•

You sighed contentedly, the gentle waves rocking the two of you as you playfully splashed around. You could tell Copia was comfortable in this moment, because your friends were far enough away on the shore, unable to berate him or give him dirty looks.

You enjoyed seeing him like this; a relaxed smile on his handsome face, a healthy pink glow of bashful fondness painting his freckled cheeks every time your body brushed against his.

Suddenly, you spotted something in the crystal clear water, nestled into the ocean floor. You dipped underwater, snatching it up before the current fully buried it in the sand. Inspecting your find, you gasped in delight. How brilliant, a piece of sea glass! But this one was a marvellous cobalt blue in colour.

Reminded of how you’d given pieces of sea glass to the Papas, you waded over to Copia, excitedly presenting him with it.

The Cardinal glanced at the piece of glass, then at you. A gift?

“F-for me?” He asked.

You nodded. “I know it’s not your colour, but I think this is the prettiest one I’ve found so far.” You responded. “It reminds me of you.”

Copia blushed, graciously accepting your gift and taking his time to carefully admire it.

“It’s beautiful, Sorella. S-so I am not sure why it reminds you of me, heh heh..” He chuckled timidly. “I, eh, I quite like this colour actually.”

You smiled endearingly at how delicately Copia handled it.

“Maybe, ehm, maybe this will be my colour. Do you think it suits me?” A little grin tugged at his lips while holding the glass up to his face.

“I think it suits you very well, Cardinal.” You giggled.

“Well, now I feel bad, Sorella, I-I don’t have a gift for you.” The man nervously ran a hand through his damp hair, his painted eyes looking around, searching for something he could give you.

“Ah! Ehm, c-close your eyes please?” He asked, and you eagerly did as he told you, waiting patiently.

For a while, you could only hear the sounds of water, and you wondered what he could possibly be doing. And finally, you felt something wet splat on top of your head.

“No peeking, Sorella.” Copia hummed when he saw your eyelashes fluttering open for a moment.

Whatever he put on your head, he was arranging it around into some sort of-

“Apri i tuoi occhi ora.”

You opened your eyes, bringing your hands up to feel around your head. You smiled brightly, realizing Copia had given you a crown of seaweed.

“Ogni principessa merita una corona..” Copia shyly explained, wringing his hands together trepidatiously.

You fished around for more seaweed, gracefully crowning Copia with it once you’d found a clump.

The man looked at you, appearing slightly confused.

“Allora… Anche ogni principessa merita un principe.” You said, eyes twinkling playfully.

Copia’s love-stricken flush only deepened at your words, shaking his head softly and biting his lip in thought. “Non sono un principe, sono soltanto un ratto.” He smiled sadly.

“Mi piace ratti. Puoi essere il mio principe di ratti.” You giggled softly.

Copia smiled while looking down at the waist-deep water, fiddling with the piece of sea glass in his hands. His painted eyes flicked to yours momentarily, nothing but adoration in them. You truly knew how to make him feel like a prince.

•𖤐•

The two of you made your way back to shore, joining your friends who were clearly in the middle of some gossip, because they all stopped talking as you grew nearer, clearing their throats. Their lively tittering turned into a few hushed snickers while they judgementally looked at Copia.

“What, did you guys get married or something?” Emily questioned.

“No,” you shook your head in amusement, “we just… crowned each other prince and princess of the ocean, I guess.”

“You kissed a rat and he turned into a prince, huh?” Lilith chimed in.

“Something like that. Although I think he’s sort of the perfect hybrid of both.” You giggled, affectionately twirling a lock of Copia’s hair around your finger before laying down on your towel.

“What’s that?” Rob asked, pointing to the sea glass Copia was fidgeting with.

“Eh? Oh, ehm, f-from Sorella.” He responded, a hint of pride in his wavering voice.

“And she didn’t get me anything?” Rob pouted. “Give it here.” He held his hand out.

“No, it’s Co-Co’s!” You placed your hand over top of Copia’s. “I gave it to him because I want him to have it.”

“Yeah and you also wanted him to have those Polaroids of you. Even though he’s probably gonna be a major creep and jerk off to them every night like a lonely virgin. Better stock up on tissues, y’know, for all the nosebleeds he’ll have.” Rob retorted with a shrug.

Copia’s face grew red hot. He’d never! ….well, perhaps one should keep in mind Charles Dickens’ famous saying, ‘never say never.’ But he would genuinely try very very hard not to! Of course, he planned to admire the pictures more often than would be considered appropriate, but he had already previously decided that he wouldn’t befoul your sumptuous image with sordidly perverted activities.

“Is that jealousy I’m sensing, Rob? You’re still salty that Cardi got all those good shots of me and you didn’t get any? Don’t be so petulant.” You teased, your tone an enigmatic mix of lighthearted and snide.

“Of course I’m not jealous of him…” Rob grumbled under his breath, running a hand through his sandy blonde hair, blue eyes rolling in annoyance.

The Cardinal found great solace in you defending him; he knew you probably recognized the fact that he was often too timorous to stand up for himself, so he appreciated your support more than you’d ever know. Perhaps he should put in a request to make you his assistant…

Tucking the little cobalt treasure away with his things, he gave you a grateful smile, his heart fluttering when you gave him a playful wink.

•𖤐•

The sun was just beginning to smoulder low in the sky, its warm rays casting a pinky-orange glow over the whole beach. You’d all ended up going for one last swim before deciding to pack up and head back to the abbey. After wrapping yourself and Copia into your large towel and drying off, you and the other sisters made the boys face away and cover their eyes while you all peeled off your wet swimsuits and put your clothes back on.

“Oh, I didn’t bring any panties because I had my bathing suit on underneath earlier!” You remarked with a giggle. “I guess it doesn’t matter because we’ll be home soon and I’m going to shower straight away.”

Copia perked up at that, biting his lip at the thought of you in those tiny shorts with nothing underneath. Oh, what he’d give to

join you in the shower back at the ministry; kissing feverishly under the warm stream of water, bodies slippery and glistening with soap bubbles.

Once everyone was dressed, you all packed up your things, bringing them to Copia’s car before getting in yourselves. You sighed peacefully, resting your head on the Cardinal’s shoulder and nuzzling into the soft fabric of his hoodie.

“I’m gonna sleep sooo good tonight.” You murmured sleepily, earning sounds of agreement from your friends.

“Will you be okay to drive?” You asked, gazing up at Copia through your lashes, noticing his eyes appeared tired- and not just because of the dark paint he wore around them.

“Si, Sorella, I will be okay.” He reassured you with a nod, starting the car and taking off. With the radio playing low, the drive home was quiet, with you leaning comfortably against Copia on the bench seat of his car, periodically glancing up to admire him, grinning when you caught the man staring at your bare thighs.

•𖤐•

You arrived back at the abbey, carrying your bag inside and bidding your friends a good night, before climbing the large staircase that would lead to your room. Copia’s quarters were also up the stairs, so you slowed your steps, allowing for a precious moment alone with the man.

“Thanks for driving us today, I had a really good time.” You said softly.

“I-It was a pleasure, Sorella. We will have to do again, si?” The Cardinal responded.

“Maybe just us next time.” You mused out loud.

Copia’s eyes lit up with excitement in the low light, his heart beating fast. You wanted to spent time alone with him? He exhaled shakily at the thought, but you didn’t let him think too much about it before you spoke.

“Buonanotte, Principe.” You beamed before turning and walking towards your room, a smile spreading across your face when you heard the blushing man utter a soft, “Buonanotte, Principessa.”

Slinking into your room, you couldn’t wait to take a warm shower and crawl into your plush bed. The only thing that would be missing? A shy Cardinal to snuggle with, of course.

Oh, if only the ministry’s old heating system could fail!

𖤐 to be continued 𖤐

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