#I’m not getting my hopes up for a happy ending for the two of them but like. I want it SO bad | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lesservillain · 1 day ago

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inmate!eddie munson x reader

cw: smut, pregnancy talks and all that come with it, mentions of nausea and vomiting, hospitalization, i think that's it?

wc: 19k

a/n: finally. it's finally here. this has been a two year in the making project for me and I am so happy to have this out. on the outside was my first ever fic and i can't believe i'm actually saying good bye to these characters. i hope you all enjoy.

“Eddieee?” You call out for your fiance from where you stand in front of your refrigerator.

You were about to change out the calendar for the new year, head pounding as if you had celebrated the New Year drinking with everyone else despite your sobriety. Eddie had only had a few beers, but he woke up this morning feeling fresh as a daisy in comparison to how sick you felt.

At first you were worried that maybe you had caught the flu. You hadn’t been feeling the best for a couple days, but chalked it up to how hard you had been working right before winter break to get all your students' grades in on time for the end of the semester. You’d also volunteered to chaperone the winter formal where, unfortunately, one of the students spiked the punch. Thankfully Eddie had been your chaperone date and handled the situation for you while you got sick in the bathroom hoping that you weren’t going to relapse after 18 months of sobriety.

But, now that you’re looking at the calendar all marked through, including the ones with a red dot for your expected period days and little pink hearts on the subsequent fertile days, you realize that those days came and passed without notice.

“What’s up, sweetheart?” Eddie asks as he pulls the new Iron Maiden hoodie you got him for the holiday over his head, curls bouncing as they are freed. Bear follows right behind him, coming up to you expectantly as he sees his box of treats sitting on top of the fridge.

“Babe, did I have a period this month?”

His head cocks to the side as he looks at you, eyes squinting and tongue poking out as he thinks about all the crazy shit that has happened this last month. With your crazy schedule and his extra hours at work, the two of you had barely had time to spend together, making it up to each other once your break had finally hit. But as he wracks his brain, he doesn’t recall you asking him to bring you home any sweets or crying any more than usual.

“Um, not that I can remember,” he says with a shake of his head. He watches as your eyes widen, a toothy smile spreading across your face before you cover it with your hands. It takes him a moment to figure out what has you all giddy, but when it hits him he’s flying to you, almost tripping over Bear as he wraps you up in a hug to spin you around. “Holy shit, please tell me you’re telling me what I think you’re telling me,” he says for lack of better words, brain short circuiting with excitement, placing you back down on your feet.

“I mean, I can’t make any promises until I take a test,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady, not wanting to get your hopes up after having your heart broken so many times before.

“Can you take a test now?” Eddie asks with a childish excitement.

“I think so,” you say flipping between the calendar pages, now crushed from Eddie's embrace. Upon further inspection, you realize you’ve actually not had a period since October. It makes your head reel back, but you keep that information to yourself just in case. “Let-let me go take one,” you say shakily, nerves starting to get to you as you swiftly walk to the bathroom. The door barely closes before you’re digging under the sink for a test, cursing when the box you had under the sink comes up empty. “Shit,” you curse, throwing the box into the bathroom trash can with force.

“Are you okay?” you hear from the other side of the door, followed by a whine from your dog. You startle the both of them with the force you use to swing the door open.

“I took the last one already,” you say with frustration, “I’m all out!”

“Well, come on, lets go get your shoes on,” Eddie brushes your frustration to the side, grabbing your hand and leading you out to the couch. He grabs your boots for you, unlacing them so he can put them on your feet. You can’t even stay mad at your own shortcoming when he’s treating you so well.

“Eddie, I can put my own shoes on,” you say with a chuckle. His big brown eyes look up at you with faux offense, still grabbing your foot and slipping it into the boot.

“I don’t think so, princess,” he says with a playful sass that you’ve grown fond of, because it really only comes out when he’s in a giddy mood like this. “I can’t have you doing anything that may make the baby uncomfortable, like bending over or lifting a finger.”

Your breath hitches at his words. The baby. The one that may or may not be making a home inside of you right now. Eddie’s baby, with you.

Bile threatens to travel higher as you look at how he’s beaming in front of you. Eddie’s never known the heartbreak that you’ve known when it comes to these things; wanting something so bad and yet your body doesn’t comply. He’s been so patient and understanding since you’ve started trying. Everything that you wish you had all those years when you were with Henry, which only made you want to give him a baby more. Anyone so kind, caring, and self sacrificing as Eddie deserved everything he’s ever wanted and more.

Every month that you’ve sat silently sobbing as you stare at the one lonely line while he snores into his pillow none the wiser has been another twist of the guilt covered knife in your gut. He doesn’t ask about it, even if he sees the wrapper sticking out between the tissues you used to clean your tears. But he tends to you with acts of kindness and service, his love language with you.

The same love language he displayed as he put on your shoes. Same as when he went out to start the car for you, opening the door and fastening your seatbelt, making sure it’s not too snug across your lap. He let you grab your tests, meeting you at the front of the store with a bundle of flowers hidden poorly behind his back. He makes you walk in front of him so he can “surprise you” when you get to the car.

Eddie practically jumps out of the car to help you out as you arrive back to your house. Bear jumps between the two of you as you two run back to the bathroom, letting out loud giggles and squeals as Eddie pretends to chase you into the bathroom. You close the door on him, catching your breath and wiping tears from your eyes as he bangs on the door for you to let him in. Bear barks at him and Eddie laughs calling him a traitor. When you hear them walk away, presumably so Eddie can let Bear out, you pull the box of tests out of the bag.

Taking a deep breath, your hands start to shake as you set everything up, reading over the instructions regardless of how many tests you’ve taken. You didn’t want to mess this up. Not this one. Every time someone told you that you would just know when you were pregnant, you thought you knew what they meant, only to be met with the negative test. This time felt different, though. Every tick of the clock was another butterfly in your stomach. And with the closing seconds, you felt your breathing pick up, chest tightening with anticipation. You stand up, hand hovering over the wrapper of the test. Counting one, two, three, before pulling the wrapper away.

Eddie sits on the edge of the bed, petting Bear on autopilot. He wasn’t sure how long these tests normally take, but after 10 minutes he was starting to get nervous. What if you were pregnant? It’s a good thing you found a house with a lot of space. He wondered what color you would want him to paint the nursery. Would you want to wait to find out what you’re having or would you want to find out as soon as possible? He would want to know right away, but would wait if you wanted him to. Is your car safe for a baby? He’ll just have to pick up some extra hours to get you a new one. Oh, god, would you want a minivan like Nancy and Jonathan…though, it does come in handy if you have multiple kids. Would you want more kids after this?

Bear’s ears perk up under Eddie’s touch as the door to the bathroom clicks, the door opening much more gracefully compared to before. He’s on his feet immediately, slightly shuffling as he waits for you to come out. Any thoughts he had before the door opened are immediately evacuated from his mind as he sees the vacant look on your face, the tears flowing freely down your cheeks being the only hint of emotion he can gauge from you.

His legs move on their own, pulling you into him as your knees buckle. He holds you up as the sobs shake your whole body in his grasp. Everything is automatic for him as your wails echo on the bathroom walls. Lowering you to the edge of the tub, he starts the shower, letting the water warm up as he undresses you, and then himself. He climbs into the tub, pulling you in with him so that the water hits the both of you as you continue to cry.

“Eddie!” Your voice is frantic as you call his name from the kitchen. You hear him running down the hall, a loud thump and a curse towards Bear as the two of them round the corner into the kitchen.

When you answered the phone, you assumed it was going to be Dustin telling you that he and his new girlfriend, Maggie, would be leaving soon for your double date that he and Eddie worked really hard to find reservations on Valentine’s day for. Instead, you were met with the urgent voice of Wayne’s boss, Bill, who informed you that Wayne had passed out on the line again.

Eddie folded where he stood, spiraling into old memories from close to a decade ago. Bear laid next to where he kneeled while you got the quick details from Bill before hanging up. Quickly, you lead Eddie to the couch so you could lace his converse, pull his Iron Maiden hoodie over his head, and get him out the door and buckled into the passenger seat.

About halfway to the hospital he finally breaks down, almost scaring you off the road when he cursed loudly, slamming his fist against the window. You let him get it out, offering your hand for him to take when he was ready, which he grabs almost immediately. Pulling your hand against his lips, he kisses your knuckles between sobs, eyes fixed out the side window.

As you pull into Hawkins General, you let Eddie out at the door so he can get inside as fast as possible. Soon after you park, you make your way up to the room that you were told Wayne was in. You were expecting to walk in and find Wayne still unconscious with Eddie a mess by his side.

Instead, you could hear the two of them bickering from the hallway. The sound was bittersweet, a smile on your face as you walk in and see a very exasperated Eddie pacing and a disgruntled Wayne sitting cross-armed in the hospital bed like a petulant child. You noticed the oxygen tubes in his nose, and he looked generally worse off than he did when you saw him two weeks ago for Sunday dinner.

“Why don’t you ever listen to me!” Eddie exclaims, not noticing that you’ve walked in the room yet.

“What did he not listen to this time?” You say jokingly as you walk to the other side of Wayne’s bed, leaning in to give him a hug that he returns with an old man grunt.

“Not just me,” Edde starts, “We both told him to go get that cough looked at and he never did. Well guess what? His stubborn ass has fucking pneumonia!”

“Wayne,” you look at him with concern. His eyes remain focused on the foot of the bed, ignoring that he’d been caught. “You’ve had that cough since Christmas. And I remember you promising me that you’d go and get checked out.”

The old man lets out a sigh that turns into a cough. You place a hand on his back and rub up and down, eliciting an eye roll from Eddie as he watches you baby his uncle.

“Listen, I’ve been meaning to go, but I just haven’t had the time.”

“Oh, you have to be joking. You couldn’t find time between your shows to pick up the phone and call the doctor?”

“Eddie,” you give him a pointed look.

“You can’t be--”

Eddie’s words are cut off by the doctor pulling open the curtain to Wayne’s room. The balding, older man greets you all, confirming some information with Wayne before going over some more of his test results.

“Everything else came back fairly normal. Your blood pressure was a little high, but that’s to be expected. Just make sure you keep up on your blood pressure medication. Don’t want to have a stroke and a heart attack within a year, right?”

The doctor is the only one laughing at his joke. Eddie’s eyes snap to Wayne, who grumbles “shit” under his breath. But Eddie keeps his mouth shut, letting the doctor finish and leave before finally speaking.

“So, when the hell did you have another heart attack, Wayne?”

“Eddie,” Wayne rolls his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“No,” Eddie says, waving his hands in front of him, “I know that I don’t live with you anymore, but I think it’s only fair that you tell me if you have another fucking heart attack!”

“After what you did last time, you really think I’d tell you?”

“Damn it, Wayne! Don’t hold that shit above my head!”

“Okay, okay,” you move around the bed to stand between the two of them. “That’s enough, you two. Wayne, I get why you might be discouraged to tell Eddie that you had another heart attack, but you have to understand that things are different now. Shit, even I’m hurt that you didn’t say anything.” He looks up at you with a wounded expression.

“And Eddie,” you place your hands gently on either cheek before tightening your grip, “You need to stop yelling before you get us kicked out.” His expression drops to annoyance, grabbing your wrists lightly and pulling your hands away. “Wayne only wants what’s best for you, just as you want what’s best for him. So…why don’t we talk about what we’ve discussed before.”

His eyes meet yours, mood shifting between you as he nods his head, reaching out to take your hand in his. When you turn around, Wayne is eyeing you both suspiciously, letting out another cough.

“Wayne,” Eddie starts, “When we got the house, the two of us sat down and talked about what we would do if you had another heart attack. Or if anything major happened to you again. And, um, we decided that we would want you to move in with us if--”

“No.”

“Wayne--”

“Nope.”

“Just hear us out,” you plead. He looks at you out of the corner of his eye. “Please?”

“...Fine,” he says with a huff.

Eddie smiles slyly at you, thankful that he has you around to be on his side.

“Uncle Wayne,” you start, hitting him in that soft spot when you call him uncle, “We would really like for you to move in with us. Not to take away any of your freedom or anything. Actually, you’d be more free…because we also want you to retire from the plant.”

Wayne’s brow raises at your suggestion.

“Eddie and I make enough money between us that you wouldn’t need to work unless you wanted to. You’d have all the free time to fish and hunt and watch your trash TV. Which, may I remind you, we have that big TV in the living room now. Plus, Bear would love to have someone at home with him all day.”

He grunts again. Bear loves Wayne, but Wayne is steadfast in his dislike for Bear, even though you’ve caught him giving him people food and the occasional scratch behind the ear.

“You sure y’all want me to move in? Won't get to have all your alone time together anymore,” he asks, seeking confirmation of your proposal.

“Oh, don’t you worry about that, pops,” Eddie says with a smile, “We’ll figure that out ourselves.”

The next month weeks flew by for you and Eddie. You’d been busy prepping your sophomores for the upcoming state testing that takes place the week before Spring Break as well as running yard sales during the most uncharacteristically warm winter that Indiana was giving you to get rid of any of Wayne’s extra stuff. There was also the babysitting for Chrissy and Jason you’d been doing while they remodel their kitchen. And that was just your schedule, as Eddie had a slew of his own obligations on his end with work and prepping the house for Wayne to move in.

The two of you found it almost impossible to have any time together. Almost being the key word here, because Eddie could find time to bed you like it was his job. The week before Wayne finally made his big move, the two of you were on each other like rabbits at any given moment.

Now Wayne was fully moved in. He opted to rent the trailer out for cheap to a single mom who was looking around the park for something that she could afford for her and her son. He finished his last week at the plant, his boss and coworkers throwing him a surprise retirement party at the pool hall they like to frequent. Eddie and you decided to get a hold of his longtime friend down in Florida and sent him away for a week to have a buddies trip and to “get some more vitamin D in your system after working the night shift for so long” according to Eddie.

Eddie may or may not have purposely planned Wayne’s trip during the same time that you’d be off for spring break, but wouldn’t admit that to you. He just wanted to get you all to himself so bad, eating his words to Wayne about having alone time together. The only thing making him feel a little less crazy about the whole thing is your little remarks about how it would be even worse if it was a baby you were bringing home, and that at least the two of you are still getting a full night's sleep. So, he sucked it up until the day finally came that he was to take Wayne to the airport.

He quietly gave your sleeping form a peck on the cheek that morning before the two of them left, not wanting to wake you since you loved to sleep in on your days off. You’d been feeling sick again, similar to how you felt right before the winter break a few months back. Eddie was worried that they were putting too much responsibility on you by having you teach two grades at the same time, but you assured him that you could handle it, that once you were off for the summer that you’d feel better.

You woke up around 11 am with a headache so bad it made you sick to your stomach. You’d been having them off and on for about a week, barely able to stand the fluorescent lights of your classroom or the smell of the coffee pot in the break room. At least your sophomore students spent most of the morning testing, and by the end of the week you were playing a movie for all of your classes as an excuse to keep the lights off.

After puking up bile for 20 minutes, your stomach gave you a break so that you could make yourself look presentable enough for the doctor’s office. Eddie made you promise him that if you weren’t better by today that you would go and get checked out. So you shove some buttered toast into your mouth and cross your fingers in hopes that you’ll make it to the doctor without having to pull over and spill your guts.

Thankfully, the urgent care in town wasn’t busy and you were taken back to a room fairly quickly. The nurse asked you a slew of questions in a monotone voice as your mouth watered from the wave of nausea that hit you again. When you jumped up suddenly to wretch in the small trash can on the floor, you heard her say something about a pregnancy test in a passive manner.

“Pregnancy test?” You ask between heaving breaths.

“Yes, dear,’ she says nonchalantly as she continues to write on her stack of papers. A different feeling filled your stomach then, coating it with nerves that seemed to distract you long enough to get you off the floor.

Ever since the let down from New Years, you and Eddie hadn’t talked much about kids other than some off hand comments here and there. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to keep trying, but the two of you decided to go with the flow and let things happen if they happen.

At least that’s what you told anyone who asked.

In your head you’ve been beating yourself up all over again, just like you did for so many years, which is probably only making you more sick. You almost tell the nurse not to even bother with the test, but she seemed like she wasn’t having the best day so you just let her take your blood and be on her merry way.

When the doctor finally comes in, he gives you a quick look over and tells you to take some benadryl for your symptoms. It left you feeling annoyed, wishing you had just stayed home and done that yourself instead of wasting your time coming in.

As you leave he tells you he’ll call you later in the day with your test results and any other instructions that he seems necessary. It’s not exactly what you want to hear, but you didn’t protest as you signed some consent forms at check out, just wanting to get back to your bed.

When you woke up a little while later, you had to admit that you did feel much better than in the morning. Maybe you were just getting to an age where your allergies were getting more sensitive.

As you amble into the kitchen, the flashing light from your answering machine catches your eye. You press play as you open the door to let Bear out, listening to the machine play as you start to pull out everything to make a late lunch before Eddie gets home from his half day at work.

You have 3 new messages.

First new message.

Beep.

Hey guys, it’s Dustin. I was calling to see if we could get a game set up for Friday? The guys and Erica are going to be in town and we’ve been talking about playing a game with everyone together again. Will said he would DM if you didn’t want to, but we’d like to have you back in the throne if the missus could get us into the theater room. Give me a call back as soon as you can and let me know. Bye!

Beep.

Second message.

Hey, sweetheart. Just wanted to let you know I got to work okay. I’m gonna stop and pick up a pizza on the way home, so don’t worry about cooking dinner tonight. Want you to be as relaxed and rested as possible for what I got in store for you tonight. Love you, baby.

Beep.

Third message.

Hello, this is Dr. Mando calling for…in regards to her test results. Everything came back negative in regards to your flu and strep tests. Blood work wise the only elevated result was for your HCG, which puts you around 9 weeks pregnant currently. We recommend you follow up with your OBGYN from this point on for any more treatment. If our results are needed for their records please have them fax a request form to-

[REWIND]

-ep tests. Blood work wise the only elevated result was for your HCG, which puts you around 9 weeks pregnant currently. We recommend you follow up with your OBG-

[REWIND]

-only elevated result was for your HCG, which puts you around 9 weeks pregnant currently. We-

[REWIND]

-hich puts you around 9 weeks pregnant currently. We recom-

Bear scratching at the door pulled you from your trance as you played back the message over and over again. You didn’t want to walk away, afraid that if you left the machine that the message would somehow disappear. Or that if you played the message again the words would change. Or that you would wake up and realize that you’re having a benadryl induced dream while you’re still asleep in your bed. But the feeling of Bear’s fur brushing against your leg throttles you into reality.

You are awake right now.

And for the first time in your life you’ve been pregnant for more than 6 weeks.

With haste, you pick up the phone line and begin to dial the first person who you know can help you.

Keeping secrets from Eddie was a challenge. His intuition when it came to you was almost scary. At times it felt like he knew you better than you knew yourself. Which, honestly, he might. But, it doesn’t help when he wants to be with you every waking second of the day. Something that you want, too, but every time you look at him you have to duck your head or avert your gaze to keep yourself from blurting out the news to him.

It’s also been incredibly hard to deny all of his advances.

He’s not pressured you to do anything with him, never has, but you can tell he’s letting your rejections get to him in a self doubting way. Even when you did give him head hoping it would be enough, his pouty lip almost got you when you told him not to return the favor.

You do feel for him. The two of you had been planning to have quite the week with Wayne being out of the house. But even if you could have sex with him, not wanting to risk anything with how rough he can get at times, you honestly weren’t in the mood anyway. Benadryl was the only thing helping with your nausea and headaches so you were constantly drowsy. And now you were getting terrible acid reflux on top of it, going through tums like candy.

When you told Eddie that you made an appointment with your primary doctor for Friday morning, he insisted that he take you in case there was anything he could do to help. You told him not to worry about it, keeping from him that the appointment was actually with your OB. You felt guilty when the ultrasound tech handed you the grainy pictures of your little baby because you know that Eddie would have wanted to be with you for this moment, but it would all be worth it tonight as long as everything went to plan.

When you and Eddie pulled into the closed high school later that day, you were greeted by the now familiar, smiling faces of your fiance’s long time friends. It wasn’t often that all of them could get together like this between work, school, and their own families. But even with all of their big ages, the atmosphere as they all embraced each other was of childlike giddiness. You were included in the rounds of hugs and pats on the back as you had been accepted so openly by everyone over the course of yours and Eddie’s relationship. The tightest hug was from Eddie’s best friend, Jeff, the two of you share a knowing look with one another as you part.

Once everyone files inside, they begin to work together to set the old theatre room set up like they had back in the day. It was funny to watch them move around each other out of muscle memory, with a few more grunts and groans than they likely let out all those years ago.

And as they start to play, the energy in the room becomes electrifying. There isn’t a single person sitting by their second hour in, voices talking over each other as the room is divided over combat choices. Even if you only had a basic understanding of what was happening, you were very much entertained where you sat next to Eddie at the end of the table.

It was a sight to see Eddie in his element up close. The passion he has for this game was on another level. There’s no way that it was anything less than cathartic for him to be in a state of power like this, playing every part as if he was performing for an audience, using his whole body and voice to play each character as if he was truly in the fantasy world he created.

It made you tear up a bit, having to discreetly wipe your eyes to hide the emotions so as not to make him worry or pull him out of his game. But the images in your head of him playing pretend in the backyard with your child has a lump sitting in your throat. The two of them with pillow cases as capes and sticks as swords slaying dragons (Bear) while you watch them from the kitchen window.

You end up having to excuse yourself to the restroom, needing a moment to collect yourself in your newly hormonal state. You barely make it into the hallway before the water works start, bee-lining for the closest restroom so you can let it out. Anyone passing by would probably think you were crying over some devastating news with the way you were blubbering and wailing.

You do your best to clean yourself up, but you know Eddie will be able to tell you’ve been crying. So instead of going straight to the drama room, you decide to go to your classroom and work on some assignments for your classes on Monday.

After a while, a knock on your door startles you, head whipping to see your man standing at the doorway to your classroom with a concerned look on his face.

“Hey, is everything okay?” He asks as he takes a few steps to stand by you at your desk. “Were we boring you with our nerdy game?”

“No, not at all!” You stand from your desk with a shake of your head. “I just wasn’t feeling well and needed a little quiet, that’s all.” You give him a reassuring smile, taking his hand in yours. He raises it to his lips and kisses the knuckles, taking a moment to admire your ring before letting your hands fall, still clasped between the two of you.

“We’re taking a break right now,” he says with a suggestive tone you know all too well. There’s a mischievous look in his eyes as he glances up at the clock on the wall. “Need to be back in five minutes,” he leans into you, dipping his head to speak low in your ear, “Think that’s enough time for me to get you on your desk like last time?”

You feel the heat flush to your cheeks at the mentions of your previous inappropriate endeavors in this classroom. For a brief moment you consider his proposition, but ultimately you pull away with a sympathetic look.

“As fun as that sounds, you and I both know 5 minutes isn’t enough time for you,” you poke his chest and he gives you a shit eating grin, “And I would be mortified if any of your friends walked in on us because you took too long to come back to your game.”

“It might be too long for me,” he draws out the last word as he runs his hands up and down your sides, “but I think I could take care of you if you’ve got room for me under that desk.”

His brows move suggestively as he waits for your response, which is just a playful roll of the eye and a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, Eds, but I’m okay.”

“Well, alright,” he sighs heavily, his tone laced with faux disappointment, “I guess I’ll just starve.” You throw your head back with laughter at his dramatics, him joining you with a fit of giggles of his own.

You decided to return to the game with him, everyone getting swept up once again in the game's energy that Eddie puts out into the room. The enjoyment is clear with how engaged everyone is, jumping up and down or yelling out like a group of your students rather than a room full of adults.

Erica and Dustin get into it over a decision in game, and you get to witness Eddie’s potential Dad Mode as he defuses the situation with no one getting their feelings hurt. You can’t help it, but for the rest of the game you subconsciously note little things that he does that may be a preview for how he’s going to handle parenthood with you. And when the group wins against whatever big monster Eddie had them fighting against, you can feel the ache in your cheeks from all the smiling you’ve done while observing them.

“Alright, alright, let’s get this shit cleaned up,” he says as they start to tease him. He gives you a look that you can only interpret as “I totally let them win” before he starts putting away his things.

“Hey, look what I found,” Jeff suddenly speaks up from across the room. He’s holding up a box that you know has some of their club's shirts in them for the new members. You feel your heart drop into your ass.

Shit, it’s happening.

“Looks like they’re still using your old design, Eddie.” Jeff says as he plops the box down on the table. You feel your heart pounding in your chest as you focus on not passing out.

“Guess you can’t fix perfection,” Eddie quips back, which elicits a few groans in response.

“Do you have a shirt?”

Your eyes flit to Will where he’s moved to stand next to you. You look at him for a moment before shaking your head, still unable to open your mouth.

“Oh, good idea, kid,” Eddie says as he places a hand on your shoulder. “You sat through a whole game, so that makes you an honorary member.”

You look over to Jeff, who gives you a subtle nod to signal that everything was good to go. It’s not exactly what the two of you had discussed, but this seemed a little more natural for the situation.

As you rise from your chair, you’re able to let out a small “okay” before walking to stand next to Jeff. You take a sharp inhale when you see it, the small bundle of material folded at the top of the other shirts.

All eyes are on you as you reach down into the box. You pretend to look through the pile before grabbing what you really want, pulling it out of the box and holding it up with both hands. It’s the first time you’re seeing it yourself, the small onesie version of the Hellfire shirt that Eddie made almost 15 years ago, black quarter sleeves and all. It’s exactly what you imagined, and you’re so, so thankful that Jeff was able to bring your vision to life.

“What do you think about this one, Eds?”

The words roll off your tongue without you thinking, your mouth moving on its own as it’s tired of waiting for your brain to catch up. Flipping the onesie around for the table to see, your eyes find Eddie’s. You watch in real time as the emotions come and go from his features; ignorant joy, confusion, and realization.

“No way!” You hear Dustin shout, too focused on Eddie to pay him any attention though.

“Dude holy shit!”

“Hell yeah man! It’s about time!”

“I call dibs on babysitting!”

“Are you serious?” His voice cracks, a loud sniffle escaping as his body starts to shake. Fat tears roll down his reddening cheeks that he tries to wipe with his sleeve. “Is this real?”

You nod, your own tears coming back once again. “Ten weeks,” you say as you exhale, doing your best to hold it together.

Eddie moves quickly to be by your side, taking your face in his hands and crashing his lips into yours. Collective oohs and awes swirl around you at the display of affection between you. When he pulls away he uses the collar of his shirt to wipe the tears from his eyes, letting out an airy chuckle.

You hold the onesie out for him to take, and he holds it in his hands with such delicacy, as if it's the baby itself.

“When did you find out?” He asks with a sniffle, not taking his eyes off the little article of clothing.

“On Monday, after my appointment.”

“You’ve known since Monday?” He almost seems upset, but there’s no way he could be mad at you right now. “Well, I guess that explains a lot.”

“I’m sorry, Eds. Trust me, it was really hard not to say anything. But, I feel like it finally paid off. All thanks to Jeff.”

You turn to gesture to him, and Jeff takes a small bow. “Happy to do my part for my future niece and or nephew. Just gotta let me know if I need to make another one in case it’s twins.”

“Twins?!” Eddie looks at you with wide eyes and an even wider smile.

“It’s not twins. Here,” you walk over to your purse and pull the strip of pictures from your purse. “See for yourself.”

Eddie takes the picture from you and examines them. Excited laughter takes over him. “Holy shit, I’m gonna be dad!” The gang surrounds him, congratulating the both of you.

“What if he sees it and doesn’t get it?”

“Babe, the sign literally says ‘Welcome home Grandpa’. I know he’s old but I’m sure he’ll catch on pretty quickly.”

Eddie and you stand at the end of the gate in the Indianapolis airport waiting for Wayne to make his way down the tunnel. The two of you thought it would be fun to surprise him about his promotion when you pick him up, making a day out of it to find him a new mug to surprise him with as well. Eddie holds the gift bag in one hand while you hold the sign, both of you skimming the crowd of people for the balding Munson in the mix.

“There he is!” Eddie nudges you, pointing into the crowd, “Hold it up so he can see!”

You raise the sign above your head as Eddie waves to get Wayne’s attention. Even from where you’re standing you can see the old man smile, then quint to read your sign. He’s almost to you before the look on his face changes.

“What the--What the hell did y’all do while I was gone?” Wayne drops his bags and wraps his arms around the two of you.

“Technically it was before you left,” Eddie laughs, returning his uncles embrace.

“Is that why y’all sent me away then? Do I gotta move back out to make room in the house now?”

“No, of course not,” you laugh, handing him the sign to look at.

“We’re not about to kick out Hawkin’s next great babysitter,” Eddie says as he puts a hand on Wayne’s shoulder. The older man huffs out a laugh, smile wide as he runs his fingers over the word grandpa.

“So that’s the real reason you wanted me to move in,” he says, looking at the two of you again. “I thought I was supposed to be retired?”

“Well, I hope your time off was enough because we’ll need you on duty in about 9 months.” Wayne shakes his head. Eddie hands Wayne the gift bag and he opens it to find the mug inside.

“I love my Grandpa,” Wayne reads from the mug, a hand going to his eyes as he wipes away tears. “Shit you guys. I’m so happy for ya.” Tears start to well up in your own eyes and you pull Wayne in for a side hug.

The three of you make your way home, discussing your future with the baby the whole way. Talks of all the diapers you’ll need to get, who will get up in the middle of the night to feed and change diapers, names and all the other fun parts that come with being a parent.

“So we gotta paint soon,” Wayne says from the passenger seat. “Do y’all have a colour picked out?”

“Since we won't know the gender for a while,” you say from the back seat, “we talked about painting the baby’s room a light green for now. We can always paint it again later down the road.”

“That sounds nice,” Wayne says with a nod. “We can pick some up this weekend and I’ll paint while the two of you are at work. It’s warm enough out that I can open the window so the smell won’t get to ya.”

“You sure you wanna do that by yourself?” Eddie asks, turning into the driveway.

“Sure, gives me a break from the couch. I know the two of you are gonna be busy so might as well make myself useful.”

“We would really appreciate that, Uncle Wayne,” you say, putting a hand on his shoulder. He turns back to look at you, resting his hand on yours.

“What’s wrong?” Robin says from her spot next to you at the bathroom sink. The two of you, plus Steve and Eddie, had decided to take a trip to the mall today. This was your third trip to the restroom since you’d been there and you could tell Robin was getting suspicious.

“If you have a UTI or something you definitely need to go to the doctor, you know?”

“I’m fine, Robin.” You dry your hands, tossing the paper towel in the trash. “I just had a lot of coffee this morning,” you lie.

The truth was that you were planning on surprising her and Steve today with a pit stop in the baby clothes store that Missy and Nancy had gone to when you went shopping with them a few months ago. It was a newer store and you knew that it would be fun little way to tell them your news.

“You have to lay off that stuff,” Robin voices her concern. “I’m pretty sure I heard it makes your boobs shrink.”

“I don’t think so Bobbie.”

The two of you reconvene back with Steve and Eddie who were waiting for you on a bench. Eddie looked like a real dad with sitting there with the shopping bags in his hands. You took a moment to admire how long his hair was starting to get before they noticed you.

“Ready for our last stop?” Eddie says, suddenly standing up. He’s had a nervous air about him this whole trip, and you don’t know why. Steve and Robin are going to be over the moon when you tell them, but you suppose it’s just because he’s excited.

“Yeah, where did you want to go?” Steve asks, looking between you two.

“Oh, just a shop over by where we parked.”

The four of you make your way toward the other side of the mall. Eddie and you both stop at in front of the Baby Gap, Robin and Steve pausing when they realize you’ve stopped.

“You good?” Steve asks.

“Yep, we just need to pop in here.”

Steve and Robin look up at the store and share a look.

“Does Nancy need stuff?” Robin asks quizzically.

“Nope, we just need to get some things for ourselves,” you say, staring at them hoping it will click.

“What do you guys need at Baby Gap?”

“Duh, what else do they sell here, Steve?” Robin nudges him. And then she looks at you with wide eyes. “Oh my god, you guys are buying baby clothes?”

Eddie and you both nod excitedly. Robin squeals, bouncing up and down. Steve still looks confused.

“Why are we excited?”

“They’re pregnant, dingus!”

Now it was Steve’s turn to look at you with saucers for eyes.

“Nuh-uh,” he says with a grin.

“Yes, sir,” Eddie nods, putting an arm around you.

Steve grabs Robins arm and shakes it, still looking at the two of you. “No way!” He says excitedly. “About damn time!”

“How far along are you? Do you know the gender yet?” Robin asks in quick succession.

“I’m about 12 weeks. We won't know the gender for a little while longer, but Wayne already picked out the nursery room color for us.”

“Oh I bet he was over the moon to find out,” Robin coos.

“He was. He’s very excited to be a grandpa.”

“Grandpa Wayne, oh my god.”

“Do you have any names picked out?” Steve asks.

“We don’t have any names yet,” you say, looking up at Eddie, “But we’re open to ideas.”

“Well, Steve is a good name—Ow!”

“They’re not naming their baby after you Steve.”

“It was just a suggestion!”

“Besides, Robin is more gender neutral anyway.”

“Eddie.”

Brown eyes dart from the TV and over to where you stand in the doorway. Eddie shifts and stands, walking over to you with urgency.

“What's wrong, sweetheart?” He asks with concern.

You sniffle, looking up at him through your lashes. “We don’t have any pickles…”

Eddie sighs in relief, glad that your tone wasn’t due to something serious.

“We don’t,” he confirms, looking down at you. “But I’m guessing we need to remedy that?”

You nod, and Eddie can’t help but giggle. The stage of weird cravings had started a week ago and you’d been asking him to buy you the most random foods. Bananas and hot sauce, sour cream that you ate from the tub, and now pickles.

“Can you get strawberry ice cream, too?” You ask sheepishly.

“Of course,” he assures you. “Anything for my babies.”

Your emotions get to you with that, and you can’t help but cry. Eddie would be concerned if this hadn’t become a semi-regular occurrence for you now. He simply pulls you into a hug and kisses the top of your head.

Bear makes his way over to you, looking up as the two of you embrace. You’re both sure he knows something is up, because he’s been by you constantly since you found out you were pregnant. It's almost like he’s standing guard to make sure no one gets near you.

“I’m okay, Bear,” you say, dropping down to squat at his level. He pants as you give him ear scritches, enjoying every second of it. Eddie takes the opportunity to grab his shoes and put them on.

“Anything else you might want me to grab while I’m out?”

“More milk? And probably more cereal for you and Wayne. I think I ate the last of it earlier.”

“I’ll get you your own box.”

Bear rested at your feet as you graded papers at the dining room table. It was getting close to the end of the school year and you didn’t want to let being pregnant put you behind.

Most of your kids were passing, which was a relief to you. It was a hard year but teaching two grades was an experience that you were glad you got to have. Thankfully the school was able to find a replacement teacher for your sophomore class next year, thanks to a recommendation by yours truly.

“It’ll be so nice for you to have someone like Will teaching with you,” Eddie says as he finishes making you lunch.

“It's going to be a big change from middle school, though,” you say as you set down your grading marker. “It was for me at least.”

“Will’s smart, he can manage. Plus he’ll have you for support.”

“Only for the first few months. Then I’ll be gone for most of the year.”

You had an appointment a few weeks back to find out you were due around Halloween. The irony of it all was that you probably got pregnant right after you had taken the test back in January. Life works in mysterious ways you thought.

“True, but he can always call here if he needs something. Plus, I’m sure the other teachers are going to love him.”

“Oh they will. I just hope they don’t treat him too much like a kid.”

Eddie puts a plate in front of you and takes a seat. “He is still young,” he says before he takes a bite of his sandwich. “Buy that will probably make him more relatable to the kids, ya know?”

You nod, taking a bite of your own food. The nausea has started to subside now that you were in your second trimester, which made it easier to eat foods that you weren’t necessarily craving. Still, you took your time eating so not to trigger anything.

“Are you excited for tonight?” Eddie asks, taking a chip from your plate and popping it in his mouth.

“Yes, I can’t wait to see their faces.”

Eddie and you finally decided to start telling more people about your pregnancy now that you were in the second trimester. Chrissy had been begging you for a double date for weeks now and you’d been putting her off so that you wouldn’t spill the beans too soon. So tonight was going to be the big reveal.

Chrissy had become a really good friend ever since she sold you the house. She was a busy mom and successful realtor but she always made time to call and check in on you. It honestly was hard not to tell her when you’ve told your other friends, but you wanted to be sure you’d make it to the second trimester before telling too many people per the doctor's suggestion.

So when you and Eddie arrived at the Golden Lamb, you could already feel the butterflies in your stomach. Thankfully you were too soon to be showing so they wouldn't know right away.

“I honestly thought it would be hard with a fifth, but Chrissy has been nothing but a superstar about it all,” Jason says as you all share an appetizer. You were barely talking because the food was so good you just kept eating it.

“Awe, so have you!” Chrissy says, beaming at the praise. “Jason’s been doing great making sure the boys are on their best behavior while I’ve been recovering.”

“How is that? The recovery, that is.”

You look up at Eddie when he asks the question.

“It’s hard, I’m not going to lie. But when you’ve done it before it definitely helps to know what to expect. You guys will know one day.” Chrissy winks at you.

“Yeah, about that..”

“You’re pregnant.”

You freeze at her words. Chrissy brings her hands to her mouth and gasps.

“H-how did you know?” You ask bewildered.

“I knew it! I could just tell when I saw you!”

“Woah, congratulations, man!” Jason reaches his hand across the table for Eddie to shake, which he does.

“Oh I can’t wait! Our kids are going to be best little friends!”

That made you happy to hear. Chrissy’s youngest and even Nancy’s youngest baby weren’t going to be too much older than yours. He or she already has friends waiting for them, and that made you feel a sense of joy in your heart.

“Do you know the gender yet?” Jason asks.

“We find out in a couple weeks,” Eddie says proudly.

“Are you hoping for anything or just feeling blessed regardless?”

Truth is you’d gone back and forth or whether or not you wanted a boy or girl. You’d be happy with either, but the idea of a little girl to dress up would be fun. You know Eddie wants a boy, but has also expressed that he’s just happy to have a baby with you.

“I’m just happy to be this far,” you finally say. “Although I think a girl would be fun.” You add that last part in without looking at Eddie.

“Oh a little girl!” Chrissy squeals. “I always wanted a daughter but I’m happy with my little team of boys. But if you have a girl I will be living vicariously through you.”

“Hey, we can always try again.” Jason says, giving Chrissy a little nudge. She rolls her eyes at him. You know she would be happy to have more kids, though.

“I personally want a boy,” Eddie announces, looking at you.

“Oh, man, boys are so fun. Our house is like a madhouse, but it’s totally worth it.”

“Which reminds me,” Chrissy chimes in, “Jacob wants to learn guitar. I was wondering if we paid you if you wouldn’t mind giving him lessons?”

Eddie is taken aback at this request. A Carver kid wants to play guitar?

“Y-yeah, sure. That’s your second oldest, right?”

You were pleasantly surprised that Eddie remembered, even after all the times you’ve drilled the names and ages of their kids into his head.

“Yep! Little Jacob wants to be a rockstar someday,” Jason adds.

“Hell yeah, that’s awesome,” Eddie says, nodding his head. “Just let me know when works for you guys.”

“We were thinking about dropping him off after church on Sundays? Maybe he can spend an hour or so with you?”

“That would be perfect,” you say, nodding to Eddie.

“Obviously not when you have the baby, we can wait until after that if you want. “

“No, it should be fine,” you say, “Bring him over whenever. It will probably be easier to start now before the baby anyway.”

“Thanks, man, I really appreciate it,” Jason nods to Eddie. “By the way, have you ever heard of a band called Stryper?”

“Eddie! Quick!”

Eddie looks over at you as you come darting to him. He watches as you take his free hand and spin him around, toothbrush still in his mouth as he was getting ready for work.

“Wha es et?” He asks through a mouth full of toothpaste.

Wordlessly, you take his hand and place it on the side of your bump. The both of you are still as you wait for something to happen. After a few beats, you start to feel disappointed.

“I swear I felt them kicking,” you say dejectedly, letting go of Eddie’s hand.

“What, really?” He asks after spitting the toothpaste out of his mouth.

“Try again and maybe press down some?”

“Will that hurt it?”

“No, I don’t think so. Maybe agitate them a bit.”

Eddie puts his hand back on your barely there bump and presses down on it. It’s still for a few moments, and nothing happens. You let out a frustrated huff and cross your arms defeated.

“I really did feel them.”

“I believe you, sweetheart. That’s so exciting,” Eddie says rubbing your arms with his thumbs,

Then you feel it again.

You gasp, grabbing his hand again and moving it to the spot where you felt the movement. Eddie’s hand rested there and you waited another moment. Nothing.

“Damn it--”

Then it happened again. Eddie’s jaw dropped as he felt it that time, too stunned to speak.

“Wooooah,” he finally says, looking up at you.

“I know, right? Isn’t it crazy?”

Eddie puts both hands on your stomach and rubs it, kneeling down to be eye level with it.

“Hey there,” he says, eyes focused on your belly, “I don’t know if you can hear me but I’m your dad and I think it’s really cool that you have such strong legs. Maybe you’ll be a drummer like your Uncle Garreth. That would be super bad ass. Especially if you’re a girl. Girl drummers are awesome.”

“What if they’re a boy?” You ask him. “Then you’ll be a kick ass boy drummer for all I care. I really want you to play guitar, though. Gonna teach you that as soon as you can hold your head up. Babe, should be make him a battle jacket?”

“If we make him one now he won’t fit in it for very long. We should probably wait until he’s older.”

“Damn, oh well.” Eddie sighs as he straightens up. His arms wrap around you and pull you in close, letting his chin rest on the top of your head.

“You have no fucking clue how excited I am.”

“I think I can take a guess.”

The room is quiet, dimly lit with the soft glow of the low lights and the monitor that sits next to your seat. Your feet wiggle back and forth, a nervous movement as you sit and wait for the ultrasound technician to enter the room. Eddie was sitting beside you, his own leg bouncing in anticipation.

Today you would find out the gender of your baby. The excitement was enough to keep the two of you up late into the night talking about what it will be like to have a baby boy or girl running around the house. All the baby proofing you would have to do was enough to make you feel like your house might actually be a deathtrap, even when Eddie assured you it wasn’t that bad.

A gentle knock on the door had both of your heads turning to it. “Come in,” you say, and the door opens moments later. The same technician from your last appointment walks in and you’re relieved to see a familiar face.

“Good morning,” she says as she closes the door behind her. “Are we ready to find out what you’re having?”

You and Eddie nod, a fresh batch of goosebumps rising on your skin. The technician moves around the room and does whatever she needs to do to get the monitor ready.

“Go ahead and lay back, and lift your shirt just over your belly,” she says as she pulls a bottle from the counter. As you lean back, she shakes it upside down a bit and squirts some on her finger, wiping it off on the paper towel sitting on the counter.

“Now, this may be little cold at first, but it will warm up as I move the wand, okay?”

“Okay,” you say, a nervous smile on your face.

“It doesn’t hurt, does it?” Eddie asks, grabbing your hand.

“No, not at all. I’m just going to put a little of this jelly on her stomach and press this wand to it so we can see the baby. You ready?”

You nod and the cold jell hits your stomach with a sound from the bottle.

“Now here comes the wand…” She places the ultrasound wand on your stomach with a light pressure. The screen of the ultrasound machine starts to blur as she moves the jelly around on your stomach. Once she slows down, you’re able to get a more clear picture of the baby growing inside your belly.

It looked weird. Like a baby, but not at the same time. But when you saw it’s little arms moving it made a lump form in your throat.

“Awe, they’re waving at you,” the technician says, holding the wand still.

“Where?” Eddie asks, a clear look of confusion on his face. “I can’t read any of this.”

“See this right here, that’s the head,” the technician points to the large orb on the screen. “This is it’s spine, and this is it’s legs. Right here are it’s little arms.”

“Woah,” Eddie says with a smile as wide as Texas. “Hi little guy.”

“You’re such a dork.”

“What, I want to be polite!”

“Everything is looking good and they seem to be measuring on time, but I can’t say for certain until the doctor checks everything out. I’m going to take a few pictures and then we can check the gender, okay?”

You nod and let her do her thing. She moves the wand and pushes a few buttons on the keyboard, over and over, until she finally moves the wand to where it looks like the baby’s butt would be. A hot wave crashes over you as you realize that this is it.

“Okay, baby is not cross legged so I can see perfectly. Are you ready to know?”

Eddie turns to look at you for your approval. He nods, and you take a deep breath.

“Yes, we’re ready.”

“How was the appointment?” Wayne says as the two of you walk in the door, Bear relaxing over his feet.

“It went really well. We got some new pictures to show you.” Eddie walks over to Wayne and hands him the small print out of pictures the technician gave you to bring home. Wayne grabs his glasses and puts them on, still holding the small prints close to his face.

“Wow, this really looks like a baby now, huh?” He says, looking over to you. Your hand rubs your bump, now starting to show a bit. You’re happy it didn’t come in until after your school year ended, lest the students ask you a million questions.

“What else do you see?” Eddie asks the older man. Wayne looks over the pictures again, eyeing them up and down.

“What’s this last picture?”

“That is your grandson’s little Munson.”

Wayne looks up at Eddie, then over to you. As it all starts to make sense to him, he suddenly jumps up from his chair and jumps around.

“‘T’s a lil boy?! Hot dog, I got myself a new fishin’ buddy?!” His arms wrap around Eddie in a surprise hug as he jumps up and down more, rocking Eddie in the process.

“We had a feeling that you’d say that, so we went and got this.” You pull a bag from behind your back and present it to him, a very obvious smaller version of a fishing pole sticking out of it. It was made for kids, but you’re sure it would work when the baby is big enough.

“I can’t believe this,” Wayne says wiping tears from his eyes. “I would have been this happy if it was a girl, too. But it just feels so--”

“Real?” Eddie says.

“Yeah. I just can’t--I mean, damn it’s really happening.”

“Eddie started crying when she told us,” you say as you lean into him.

“How could I not? I’m gonna have a mini me running around the house!”

“Don’t I know it. I’m putting all this work in for 9 months and I know he’s going to come out looking exactly like you.”

“Hopefully he’s more tame than Eddie was,” Wayne adds, shaking his head. “Eddie used’aa bounce off the walls when he was a toddler.”

“Oh, great, can’t wait for that,” you say with a smile. You truly didn’t care what the baby was going to be like. You hoped he was just like Eddie, in every way.

“Ugh, it’s so hot,” you say as you fan yourself. Even with the shade of your front porch you were still sweating in the unrelenting July heat. It was the hottest summer Hawkins had felt in a while and of course you just had to be almost 30 weeks pregnant right now.

“We can go inside,” Eddie says from the chair next to you, flipping through a mechanics magazine.

“No, the fresh air will be good for the baby.”

“Not if you’re frying in the process. Come on, we can wait for them inside.”

As if right on que, the familiar red beater truck pulled up behind yours in the driveway.

“Hey, the party is here!” Grant shouted from the driver side window.

“Lets get this shit built!” Garreth yells as he pops out of the passenger side, Jeff following after him.

“Are you just gonna stand there or are you gonna help?” Jeff says as Garreth and Grant start to unload the back of the truck of the boxes that were in the bed.

“I was expecting you all to do the heavy lifting. We are pregnant afterall.” Eddie says as he places his lemonade down, standing up from the chair. Jeff pshes him, slapping a hand on his back before the two of them start moving boxes inside.

The boys had all agreed to help put together furniture as long as they could drink and listen to rock music the whole time, neither of which you minded but you appreciated them asking. You’d been craving some wine during your pregnancy but had been good enough to not indulge yourself, especially after you’d done so well with your sobriety.

“You boys needa hand?” Wayne asks from the front door.

“Naw, we got it pepaw,” Garreth calls, holding the other and of a large box that him and Jeff are carefully maneuvering between the cars in the driveway. You held the door open for them as they entered into the house, stopping to kick their shoes off per your house rule of no shoes in the baby’s room.

Once the boys got everything inside, they immediately plugged in the stereo system and began to fill your house with Pearl Jam’s “Ten” album. Eddie Vedder’s vocals made good background noise as you cleaned up the house. Well to the best of your ability.

Your bump had grown big enough that it was starting to become more difficult to do certain things, like bending over and squatting. But you could still handle most of the chores with out much of Eddie’s help. It was working with chemical cleaners that worried you the most, so you looked into some more natural cleaning remedies and hoped that they were doing what they were supposed to do.

“Anyone ready for lunch? I’ll order some pizzas if you want--Wow, look at you guys go!”

The room was already starting to come together as the furniture was being built. It looked like Eddie and Jeff had the crib almost put together as Grant and Garreth tackled the dresser. You thought this was going to be an all day endeavor but they may get it all done in a few hours.

“You guys are some pretty good handymen!”

“Thanks, babe,” Eddie says as he holds a couple pieces together for Jeff to screw in. “Once we get these big pieces put together we’ll work on getting the shelves up.

“Were you saying something about pizza?” Garreth asks with nails between his lips.

“Yeah, I’ll go ahead and order some. Any special requests?”

“Can you get some cheesy bread, too?” Grant asks.

“Absolutely. Well, I’ll leave you boys to it.”

“Love you, babe!”

You say a quick love you back before waddling down the hall to the kitchen.

After a quick pizza break and some trash TV with Wayne, the boys all erupted into hoots and hollers from the baby’s room.

“What’s all the commotion?” You ask walking into the room.

“I think we’re done!”

You look around the room and really take it in. It looks pretty much complete, sans some decorations and the things you plan to get from your baby shower. It hits you that you’re going to have a baby in this room with you in just a few short months.

“Awe, babe, don’t cry.” Eddie walks up to you and wraps his arms around you, swaying you back and forth.

“It just looks so nice. Thank you guys so much,” you say through sniffles.

“Of course, momma,” Jeff says, patting your shoulder.

“Anything for the newest member of Hellfire,” Grant adds.

“And the future frontman of Corroded Coffin 2.0,” Garreth says.

Eddie backs away from you and you take the opportunity to wipe away the tears from your eyes. It was so nice knowing that your baby was already so loved.

“Oh, yes! Just like that!” You moan out into your bedroom, your cries bouncing off of the walls and straight into Eddie’s ears.

He has you just how he likes you; on your back and with your legs spread wide for him. Either of your legs in his grasp to hold up so you don’t have to. Your pretty little head is resting on the pillow while he does all the work of making you squirm under him. Your hands hold your large stomach as his hips crash into yours with each thrust.

He’s doing his damndest not to be rough, but he can’t help that you look so pretty when he fucks you hard. The way you talk so dirty when no one’s around gets him going in a way he can’t even describe other than feral. Each call of his name by you sounds like music to his ears that he wants to play on repeat.

“Fuck, baby, look so good like that,” Eddie groans, watching your swollen tits bounce. “My beautiful girl, all big and round for me.”

“Yes, just for you, Eddie,” you say, your hands flying to the pillow to grip it as he picks up his pace. Eddie takes your leg and rests it on his shoulder, guiding his free hand to your stomach to hold it in place while he fucks you into the mattress. Something about you being pregnant with his child was turning him on to no end. Just the thought of his baby being inside of you drove him crazy.

“Oh, shit I’m gonna--”

“Do it, baby. Cum for me.” Eddie brought his thumb to your sensitive clit and started rubbing sloppy circles in it. Everything with you was so much more sensitive since you’d gotten pregnant, and Eddie loved to take advantage of that whenever he could.

Eddie felt it in your body as you came, the way you clenched around him, legs shaking, eyes rolling into the back of your head. He wanted to take a picture to keep forever. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” Eddie says suddenly, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he reached his peak. You watch as he comes undone inside of you, filling you up with his spend.

“Oh my god,” Eddie stutters out, head thrown back as he recovers from his orgasm. “That was insane.”

“Come’er,” you reach your hands out for him. He obliges, sliding out of you slowly and plopping down next to you in the bed. He wraps you up in his arms and holds you close, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Are you okay?” He asks, hand landing on your stomach.

“Mhmm,” you hum, catching your breath.

“I still can’t believe it. That we’re going to be parents.”

You place your hand on top of Eddie’s and rub your thumb into the back of it. It’s quiet for a moment, but then the two of you feel the baby moving inside of you and laugh.

“Guess he didn’t like all that movement,” you say, watching the way your stomach is pressed from the baby inside you.

“Sorry, bub,” Eddie says with a laugh, “Can’t help that your mom is hot.”

“Hey, thank you for coming!” You wrap your arms around Claudia and Dustin as they exit your house from the back door.

Today is the day of your baby shower and the backyard was already full of guests as they all pile in. Eddie was manning the grill, your brother and his wife talking him up as he cooked the dogs and burgers for everyone. Elanor and your nephews are running around with Bear while Nancy and Robin catch up. Steve and Mike were talking about cars the last you checked in on them. Max, Jane, Lucas and Will are helping set up some last minute decorations. And the band boys were chatting while they set the fire pit up for s’mores later.

“Thank you for inviting us. Here, I made these myself for the little one. There’s something in there for you, too.”

“Awe, thank you, Claudia. That’s so sweet.”

“I’ll take that,” Wayne says as he takes the bag from Mrs. Henderson.

“I helped pick out the colors, by the way,” Dustin says before he leaves to go join the boys at the fire pit.

“How are you feeling, dear?” Claudia asks.

“I feel surprisingly great. Other than my feet swelling in this heat, I don’t think I can complain. Well, besides the nightly gymnastics routine this one seems to want to do whenever I go to bed.”

Claudia laughs, “Yes, Dustin was the same way. It’s like they know when you’re trying to rest.”

“It really does!”

“Mrs. Henderson!” Steve calls out to her and Claudia excuses herself.

Wayne makes his way over to you. “Got an awfully full table of gifts over there,” he says.

“I know, I’m in shock. I knew people would get us stuff, but I didn’t think it would be so much. Hopefully we have room for everything.”

“We’ll make it fit, I promise ya that,” Wayne says with a chuckle.

He looks at you for a moment before leaning in.

“Can I tell ya a secret?”

You whip your head around, shocked to hear that Wayne wants to gossip with you.

“Uh, duh. Lay it on me.”

“Okay,” he starts, “See that girl your brother brought with him. I think you said that’s his wife’s sister?”

“Oh, Tenisha? Yeah she was one of my best friends growing up. She’s just really shy.”

“I can see that by the way she’s been keeping to herself. But, I’ve been watching everyone here, right? Well I think she’s been boring a hole into Harrington since he walked in the door.”

This revelation sparks your interest. Tenisha had a hard time branching out due to her introverted nature, so she didn’t have many boyfriends growing up. For a while you thought maybe she didn’t even like other people all that much.

But, this news was something you could work with.

“Good to know,” you say with coy smile, brain wracking with ways to introduce them.

The rest of the party showed up as time went on. Chrissy and Jason came with their kids, and you got to hold baby Jeremy while she talked your ear off. She even brought you a whole trunk load of old clothes from her boys that you’d be able to use for your baby.

Missy even showed up with her baby, little Henry junior. He looked a lot like Henry, so much that it was almost off putting to you, but you reminded yourself that this party was the celebrate your own baby with the man who loves you now.

“This is a really nice house,” Erica says to Eddie as you help pass out food and refreshments.

“Thanks, man. We’ve really put our all in making it our home these last few months.”

“I’m willing to bet that the missus did most of the decorating,” Jason chimes in.

“Obviously,” you say with a sarcastic tone. “I think the place would be covered with band posters and guitars if Eddie was in charge.”

“Hey, a few decorative guitars wouldn’t be a bad thing,” Grants says in Eddie’s defence.

“Thank you, Grant.”

“It’s going to feel even more like a home once the baby comes,” your brother says. “Don’t you think, Nish?”

Tenisha looks up from her plate like a deer caught in headlights. You want to scold your brother for calling her out, but you know he’s doing it because you told him about her eyes for Steve.

“Y-yes,” she says, voice small, and you’re proud that she was even able to get that much out. She stands still for a moment before suddenly beelining it for you.

“Where’s your bathroom?” She whispers to you. Just as you look toward the house, you notice Steve is heading in that same direction.

“Hey, Steve!”

He stops and looks around to where he heard his name being called, landing on you.

“Can you show Tenisha where the bathroom is?”

Tenisha’s eyes go wide, but you ignore it when Steve agrees and beckons her over. You watch as she wordlessly makes her way over to him.

“Hi, I’m Steve. I don’t think we’ve met,” he says as he follows behind her into the house.

You look around for Wayne to see if he saw your quick move and you found him already looking your way, giving you a thumbs up.

The rest of the party went off without a hitch. Games were played, all the gifts were opened, and you even got to have some cake that Eddie had custom made for the occasion. And, much to your delight, Steve essentially stuck by Tenisha’s side the rest of the night, talking to her about god knows what. She seemed not to mind though, a smile on her face the whole time.

You felt like you were about to burst. People had been chatting you up for over an hour at this point and you were starting to have to go every 30 minutes or so it seemed. When you finally had the chance to excuse yourself, you all but sprinted to the rest room.

Once you relieved yourself, you went to wipe, but thought you felt a strange texture when you did. You decided to check the toilet paper, only to be met with the sight of bright red blood.

Your heart sank at the sight. Getting up you checked your underwear and found nothing there, so it hadn’t been bad enough to spread. But still, you were only 36 weeks at this point, still a whole month out from when the baby was supposed to come. This shouldn’t be happening.

“Eddie,” you say out of instinct. “Eddie!”

You run out to the backyard and find your husband talking with his uncle by the fire. He looks over at you and waves, unable to see you clearly from where you were at the back door.

“Eddie!” The urgency in your voice caught his attention and he immediately popped up from his chair and came trotting to you.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“Eddie, I’m bleeding.”

“W-what? That’s not supposed to happen now is it?”

You shook your head and Eddie immediately started to panic.

“Uncle Wayne!”

Wayne jumped up from his chair and ran over to where you two were standing.

“What’s goin’ on?”

“She’s bleeding.”

“Bleedin’! Well that doesn’t sound right. You oughta go to the emergency room. Now. I’ll get everyone going.”

You both nod and Eddie takes you by the hand, grabbing his keys off the counter as you enter the house. He barely lets you grab your purse before he��s pulling you into the car and peeling out of the driveway.

Once you get to the hospital, they take you back right away and get you hooked up to a monitor to listen to your baby’s heart beat. There was a sigh of relief when it was strong enough that it could be easily found by the nurse helping you. They ran some tests on you and did a quick check to see if you were dilated at all.

“Nothing yet,” the doctor says. “Not abnormal for you to not be dilated at this point. Have you had any contractions?”

“No, not yet. Should I be?” You ask with concern.

“Not necessarily. Sometimes women experience what feel like contractions at this point, but you’ll know the real thing when the time comes.”

“Why would she be bleeding right now if the baby wasn’t coming?” Eddie asks, hand clasped with yours.

“Well,” the doctor starts, “There are several possibilities, but it’s hard to say for sure. We’ll probably keep you here for monitoring for a few days just to make sure we don’t need to start the delivery process early.”

“Start it early? Will that hurt the baby?” You ask.

“Not at this point. We consider the baby developed enough at this point that delivery is a safe enough option for you. We would just give you a shot of steroids before hand to help with the development of the baby’s lungs before hand. But, for now, we think that you should get some rest.”

The doctor leaves the room and you and Eddie are left there to listen to the sound of your baby’s heart beating. Eddie’s grasp on your hand tightens, and for a moment you think that he might have started crying. You look up at him and are surprised to find that he’s actually laughing.

“Why are you laughing right now?”

“Because,” he raises his head to look at you, “Only my kid would try and pull something like this the day of his party. I always used to ruin my birthday parties because I would get so excited to get gifts.”

That did make you laugh. Which apparently made your son mad because you felt him kicking you, leaving you to sigh in relief. At least he wasn’t in any immediate danger. Though, you were not looking forward to staying in the hospital for a couple days.

“Do you think I’ll be out in time for Monday?”

Eddie looks at you in disbelief. “I don’t think your students are going to mind a substitute for a couple days while you’re in here.”

“I know, I just don’t want to leave them with a bunch of work to do. I’ve been slacking a bit these last couple weeks.”

“I’ll grade the damn papers myself if it means you’ll relax for a couple days,”

“Oh, god, we wouldn’t want that,” you laugh.

You got to go home on Tuesday. It felt cooler out compared to Saturday, so Eddie brought you a sweater to the hospital to keep you warm. The fabric was tight over your large stomach as you walked out into the late September air.

The bleeding eventually stopped on its own and the doctors decided it would be best to let you go home and finish out the rest of your pregnancy. Which you were relieved to hear because that bed was super uncomfortable.

“I just want to go home and take a nice long shower,” you say from the passenger seat. “Then maybe a good nap.”

“Whatever you need, princess. I know that was rough on you,” Eddie says with a hand in yours as he drives.

“It was rough on you, too. I know you were mad they wouldn’t let you stay.”

“They better let me stay when the baby is born. I’ll stand outside the hospital all night if they don’t.”

“They will, Eddie. We already asked, remember?”

“I know. But what if they find out I’m a felon and change their minds?” You can hear the concern in his voice.

“Eddie, they don’t care. Just don’t do anything stupid and there won’t be a problem.”

Eddie scoffs, “You think I would do something stupid?”

“Of course not,” you laugh, “I’m just saying is all.”

Eddie turns into the drive way and cuts the engine. He hops out from the driver side and runs around the car to open your door for you, lending you a hand to help you out of the car.

The two of you enter the house and you immediately head to your baby’s room. It’s filled to the brim with all the gifts you received still needing to be put away from your shower. The need to nest kicks in and you enter the room.

“Woah, what are you doing?” Eddie says, watching you as you start to fold some of the baby clothes.

“It’s a mess in here,” you say, placing a blue nighty into the dresser drawer. “We need to clean up.”

“We can do that later.” Eddie wraps his arms around you from behind and you let out a whine.

“But what if the baby comes tomorrow? He’s going to think we’re slobs!”

Eddie turns you around to face him, holding you with a hand on each arm.

“Later, sweetheart. Let’s get you in the shower and down for a nap first.”

You let out a sigh but ultimately give in.

“Aren’t you due today?” Will suddenly says between bites of his salad. The two of you had a shared lunch and had been spending it together since the beginning of the school year.

“Technically I was due Tuesday,” you say after a long chug of water, “But he doesn’t seem to be ready to come out yet.”

“Have you been feeling anything yet? Like the labor pains?” He asks.

“I’ve had a few contractions but nothing too major. The doctor said it’s normal for babies not to come on their due dates, but I’m ready for him to be out of me now.”

You rub your huge bump. It didn’t seem possible that you were this pregnant. You hadn’t seen your feet properly in weeks, but you certainly can feel them aching. The back pain was out of this world, and all you wanted to do was sit down. But at this paint sitting didn’t seem to be much relief either.

“I’m sure you are. I can’t even imagine what it must feel like.”

“It feels like I’m carrying a 30 pound boulder in my stomach is what it feels like,” you laugh.

But the laugh is cut short by a sharp pain in your lower stomach. Another contraction was hitting you today and this one took your breath away. You hiss, bending slightly as you try your best to work through it. But this one was lasting a lot longer than the others.

Will jumps up from his seat. “Are you okay?” He asks as he hovers over you, hand on your shoulder.

“Yeah, just,” you blow out air from your mouth, “This one just really hurts.”

“Shit, is it time?”

“I…I don’t know.”

You couldn’t say no for sure with how this one was feeling. Was it time?

“Do you want me to call Eddie?” Will says before walking over to the phone.

“No, no it’s starting to stop now,” you say, leaning back in your chair. “I’ll keep an eye on the time and if it gets worse then I’ll call him.”

“Maybe you should go home, just in case,” Will says with concern.

“I think I’ll be okay.”

But you were not okay. After the third contraction, you decided to call Principal Higgins and let him know what was going on. He told you he would take over your class and that you should go home for the day.

“Hawkin’s Auto Body, this is Sarah speaking.”

“Hi Sarah, is Eddie available?”

“Oh, hey! Yeah, let me go get him!” The receptionist put you on hold and you felt another contraction hit. They were starting to become close together, around 8 minutes apart.

“Babe?” You hear from the other side of the line.

“Eddie, I think it’s time,” you say through gritted teeth.

“What? Really? Where are you?” His tone is frantic and you hear some crashing noises.

“I’m at work. I’m having contractions.” You whine as the feeling grows stronger in your pelvis.

“Oh my god, okay, I’ll be there as soon as I can. We’ll take your car, okay?”

“Okay, I’ll be waiting.”

After you hung up with Eddie, you braced the cold October air and made your way to your car. You turned it on and sat in the passenger seat while you waited.

Looking in the rear view mirror, you can see the car seat installed in the back seat for this exact occasion. Eddie was smart to put it back there in case the baby came earlier. Ever since your hospital trip, he’d been on top of everything when it came to the baby’s arrival. He helped you decorate, took you shopping for any last minute items you needed, and even prepared a hospital bag for you that sat in your trunk.

It didn’t take long for Eddie you whip into the school parking lot. He found your car and made quick effort to find the nearest spot to park. After he killed the engine, he booked it to your car and hopped in the driver seat.

“Are you okay?” Was the first thing he asked before buckling his seatbelt.

“At the moment, yeah. But the contractions are getting closer and closer together as time goes by. I’m due for another any minute.”

“Well, lets’s get going then, momma,” he says, shifting into gear and pulling away.

Eddie got you to the hospital in record time. They wheeled you in, mid contraction as they took you immediately to a laboring room. Everything was a blur as they got you in a gown and prepped you to be checked. When the doctor came in, the first thing he did was check to see how dilated you were.

“You’re already at 4 centimeters,” he said as he pulled his hand away. “I’m surprised you hadn’t come in sooner.”

“She was being stubborn,” Eddie said. He was upset that you had gone on having contractions for so long without calling him sooner.

“I was at work. I didn’t know it was going to get this bad--ooooh!” Another contraction.

“Well good news is that once you get to 5 centimeters things tend to go faster, so you shouldn’t be in labor for too much longer. Did you want to get an epidural?”

“God, anything to help with these pains,” you moan as the contraction wracks through your body. It felt like all your muscles from the waist down were tightening all at once. You were starting to sweat from the pain.

“That looks like fun,” Eddie says as he sips from his little cup of water.

You were bouncing on the exercise ball that the hospital provided for you to try and speed up the labor. The epidural kicked in and though your legs felt funny, the pain had subsided greatly. You still felt the contractions but they weren’t nearly as debilitating as they had been all day.

“It feels like a work out, but I think it’s helping.”

“I’m so excited,” Eddie says before walking over to you, both his hands out for you to take. You place your hands in his and do your best to stand, stepping closer to him until your belly touched his. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips.

“I am, too. Insanely nervous, but excited.”

Suddenly you felt a sharp pain between your legs. The sound of water hitting the floor took you by surprise. You felt like you needed to sit down so you reached back for the bed and sat on the edge.

“Shit, babe, I think your water broke!” Eddie ran to the door and yelled out for a nurse to come to your room.

Shit, was this really happening?

Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion. The nurses and doctor entered the room and it was clear that it was go time. They got you in position on the bed and you could feel something happening between your legs.

“I see the head!” One of the nurses shouted.

“Push, momma push!”

“Oh my god.”

Eddie was shaking beside you. You could feel the trembling in his hand as he held yours. But you didn’t have time to focus on him as you put all your effort into pushing.

You squeezed his hand tight as you did your best to push, feeling the pressure building as you do.

“Yes, keep going! He’s starting to come out!”

“You got this, sweetheart,” you hear Eddie say shakily.

“One more good push!”

You put all your strength into pushing. It was the hardest thing you’ve ever done in your life. There was so much pressure building up and then—

The sound of cries.

You opened your eyes and he was there. The nurses held him as the little baby covered in goo and fluids…was crying.

“It’s a healthy baby boy!”

“Hellooo!”

The sound of Wayne’s voice echoed in the room. He took a step in and Eddie waved him inside.

“Come on in, Grandpa,” Eddie says from his seat next to you. Wayne mozies into the room, a vase full of flowers in hand.

“I brought these for the lovely new momma,” he says, setting them down on your bedside table.

“Thank you, Uncle Wayne,” you say, admiring the flowers.

“Is that my little man over there?” He asks, moving closer to the bed.

You take the bundle in your arms and turn him to face Wayne. “Oh my god,” Wayne’s hand comes to his mouth as he cracks the widest smile.

“Do you want to hold him?” You ask, lifting your son a bit towards him.

“Can I?” Wayne asks, stretching his arms out. You make the slow exchange and Wayne just absolutely lights up. “Wow, I can’t believe it.”

“I know, it’s crazy isn’t it?” Eddie says, standing up to walk over to them.

“I’m sorry ta break it to ya, sweet girl, but this boy is all his daddy,” Wayne says with a chuckle.

“Wait until you see his hair,” Eddie says, gently pulling the little cap off of his sons head to reveal small poodle like curls underneath.

“Oh boy, we’re really gonna be in for it with you, ain’t we?” Wayne asks your son. “Your daddy’s gonna get all the karma from how he was as a kid.”

“All I know is he’s going to get away with murder when it comes to her.” Eddie says nodding to you.

“Is that so? That in love already, huh?”

You nod your head. It was true. As soon as the nurses laid him against your chest you felt that immediately wave of love come over you for your little one. He might as well have hung the moon and stars because he was perfect in your eyes. You weren’t even mad he looked exactly like Eddie. Quite the opposite. Your head swirled with all the trouble that the two of them were going to get to. And they would get away with it by batting their big brown eyes at you.

“Did ya come up with a name for him yet?”

This question made you look to Eddie. You’d been telling everyone that you weren’t sure what name you were going to come up with, but the truth was that you had a name for the baby all along.

“As a matter of fact, we did,” Eddie says walking over to the bed side bassinet. He pushed it over to Wayne, turning it so that the name card was visible to him.

Wayne stepped closer, leaning in to see the name without his glasses.

“Wayne…Wayne Lee Munson. Well…that,” Wayne’s body shook with a sob, “that’s my name.”

“And we thought it would be the perfect name for the next Munson.”

“Ed…” Wayne started to cry. He held your son close and wept. “Little Wayne Munson. Has a nice ring to it.”

“Well look at that little man there. He looks jus like you, don’t he?” Al Munson’s voice rang through the other side of the phone’s receiver. It wasn’t how you wanted to meet your future father in law, but you knew this visit meant a lot to Eddie so you went along with it.

He told you his dad wasn’t a violent man, but he sure looked like it. Eddie looked so much like him, down to the way they both hunched over a bit when they sit. It was almost scary to think about what Eddie could have become if he hadn’t gotten out of prison when he did.

“I’m glad you guys came out,” Al says, “Was worried I wouldn’t get to see ‘em til he’s ten.”

“We’re glad to be able to make it. I’m sure you’re excited to meet him.”

“And the misses, too. Eddie’s told me a lot about you in his letters.”

“Hopefully all good things,” you say into the receiver that’s between yours and Eddie’s head. Al laughs, and it sounds like a raspier version of Eddie’s.

“Oh, yeah. You’re gonna make a great Munson. Wish I could be there to see it.”

“I wish you could, too, dad.”

“We’ll make sure you get lots of pictures.”

“I’ll be lookin’ forward to it,” Al says, leaning into the glass. “Lemme get a better look at’em.”

Eddie moved the phone to his ear as you reposition, standing slightly so you can show off your baby. You watch as his lips move but can’t hear what he’s saying.

“Yeah, that’s what everyone says. I feel bad for her because you know how I was as a kid…Yep, Wayne said the same thing.”

Al’s hand touches the glass near where you’re son is. It makes you feel for him. A man stuck in a cage, just outside of reach of what he wants.

“Okay, old on,” Eddie says holding the phone out to you. “He wants to talk to you.”

“Oh, really? Okay.” You swap with Eddie, handing Wayne to him and taking the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey there, darlin’,” Wayne says. “Just wanted to ask you a few questions.”

You felt your stomach turn. Was he going to grill you on if you were good enough for his son?

“Now, I won’t say anything, and you can give me simple answers if you want. But I want you to answer truthfully.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now, is my boy treating you right? He’s not been hittin’ on you or anything?”

The line of questioning took you by total surprise.

“Oh my god, no,” you say shaking your head. “Eddie is the sweetest man I’ve ever met in my life.”

Al smiles the same as Eddie.

“That’s what I wanted to hear. Now, he’s been pullin’ his weight around the house, too, right?”

“Absolutely,” you assure him.

“Good, good. Been helpin’ with the little one?”

“Yes, more than I ever could have asked for.”

Eddie was made for fatherhood. Even at his most tired, he still does whatever he can with Wayne. Changes him, helps bathe him, cleans up so you can feed him. He cooks and cleans. Any little thing you ask he does without a single complaint.

“Wonderful. Eddie’s a tough one, so but I’m glad to see he has a soft side to ‘em. If he ever gets outta line, you just go ahead and give me a call, got it? I got some people on the outside who will set him straight for ya.”

“I don’t think I’ll need to, but I’ll keep that in mind,” you chuckle.

“Alright, darlin’, go ahead and give me back to Ed.”

You hand the phone back over to Eddie and do another swap with Wayne.

“What the hell did you ask her, old man?”

Al laughs on the other side of the glass. You let the two of them talk it out for the rest of the visit. You weren’t sure the next time you three would be able to make it out to see him, so you made sure to say your goodbyes before leaving.

The house is warm and filled with the smell of food cooking from the kitchen. As you do your best to prep, Eddie is sitting snugly on the couch holding baby Wayne in his arms. They’re watching A Charlie Brown Christmas on the tv; well, Eddie is narrating everything for Wayne. But Wayne seems to love listening to Eddie talk, starting up at him with those big brown eyes that you love so much.

“Don’t look now, but I think we’re being watched,” Eddie says to Wayne, pointing at you.

“I can’t help it, you guys are just so cute.”

You’re about to check on the food again when you hear a knock at the door.

“Come in!” Eddie shouts from the couch.

The door opens and begins to fill with familiar faces. Dustin and Lucas enter first, bickering about god knows what, followed by Mike, Jane, Max and Will who look fed up at the former two.

“Hey guys!” You say as you approach, offering to take coats as they come in. Eddie stands up from the couch and walks over to Dustin and Lucas.

“Whatever you guys are going on about can end now,” Eddie says as he hands the baby to Lucas, “and you can hold this one while I go take a piss.”

“I’ll take that, thank you,” Max says as she slips between Dustin and Lucas, taking your son in her arms and walking away. “Awe aren’t you just the cutest!”

“Hey, he was handing him to me,” Lucas says with a scoff.

“You’ll have your turn later, Auntie Max needs her baby time now.”

Lucas pauses for a moment before leaning into Dustin.

“She looks pretty cute with a baby, doesn’t she?”

Dustin elbows Lucas, “Make your own then, sheesh.”

“Can I see him?” Jane says as she walks up to Max, who shows him off to her.

“He seriously is so cute.” Max says, lightly bouncing Wayne in her arms.

“Thanks, I think so, too,” you chuckle.

Another knock at the door takes your attention away from the girls for a moment. You shout for them to come in and the door opens to reveal Steve and Robin with two handfuls of gifts.

“Oh my god, let me take those,” you say rushing over to them. “What is all this stuff?”

“It’s for the baby, duh,” Robin says, handing you some of the stuff from her hands.

“All of this is for Wayne?”

“Not all of it,” Steve says, making his way to your tree to set his gifts down. “There’s more in the car.”

“You guys are ridiculous,” you say, shaking your head.

“Woah, Santa came early,” Eddie says as he rounds the corner. He walks over to Robin to take the rest of the gifts and joins Steve by the tree.

“We said we were going to spoil him,” Robin says with a shrug.

Suddenly something small runs into the house, past you and onto Mike’s leg.

“Woah!”

“Uncwel Mikey!” Elanor squeals.

“Is this where the party is?” Jonathan says as he enters the house, followed by Nancy and baby Amelia.

“It smells so good in here,” Nancy says as she gives you a side hug.

“Thank you! You guys didn’t have to bring anything,” you say, eyeing the tin of cookies that Jonathan was holding.

“It was nothing. I was in a baking mood, so those aren’t the actual cookies that are in there.”

“Well come on in and set them in the kitchen. I need to check on everything anyway.”

Nancy and the baby follow you inside to the kitchen, Jonathan hot on her heels. “I’ll be back for you,” she says when she passes Max holding baby Wayne.

As you enter the kitchen, the timer for the turkey goes off. You grab your oven mitts and pull it out of the oven, prepping the thermometer to check that it’s cooked all the way.

“Wow, you made a whole turkey?” Nancy says impressed.

“I wanted there to be enough for everyone” you say, reading the temperature, “and it was cheaper than a ham. Got it on sale actually!”

“Looks good!” Jonathan says, setting the cookies on the table.

“Holy shit, Steve she made a turkey!” Robin yells from the kitchen doorway.

“I thought she didn’t know how to cook?!” Steve shouts from the living room.

“I’ve picked up a few things being a housewife, Steve!” You shout back at him.

“Hows motherhood treating you?” Nancy asks, moving to stand next to you.

“Honestly,” you start, “it’s been a crazy ride.” You pause for a moment, thinking about all the sleepless nights and endless feedings. But you think about your sweet baby and the man who has been helping you make it all possible and sigh. “But, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

“I know what you mean,” she says bouncing Amelia on her hip. “It’ll get harder when you have another, but it really is worth it.”

Another? You hadn’t really thought about having another baby just yet. You were still in the throws of first time motherhood that you barely had time to think about anything else. But, who knows, maybe you’ll have another. One day at a time.

You hear a commotion from the living room and assume the rest of the boys have arrived when you hear their collective voices.

“There’s my man,” you hear Jeff say.

“God, he looks just like you, Eddie,” Grant says, making you smile.

“Yeah, I apologize to her for it every day,” Eddie says with a laugh.

Nancy and Robin help you finish everything up in the kitchen while the rest of the party is entertained by your son in the living room. They all take their turns holding him until he ultimately started crying and needed his momma.

“Alright, dinner is ready, everyone,” you say from the doorway. Walking over to Steve, who was currently holding Wayne, you extend your hands to take the crying baby.

“Shh, it’s alright, mommy is here,” he says, gently bouncing Wayne in his arms.

“Damn, you’re a natural, Steve,” you say as you take Wayne from him.

“You think so,” he says standing up from the couch. “I’ve always wanted a big family.”

“Oh, that reminds me,” you say with a sly smile, “How are things going with Tenisha?”

“Great!” He says, clapping his hands together excitedly. “The long distance sucks, but Robin and I are going to drive out to see her for new years.”

“That sounds like it’ll be a good time!” You say and he nods. Wayne lets out another cry and you’re reminded that it’s time to feed him. “Go and get some food, I gotta feed the little one.”

You walk back into the bedroom and let Wayne nurse for a bit, calming him down instantly. A few minutes go by and you hear a knock on the door.

“I’m not decent,” you shout to the door.

“It’s just me,” you hear Eddie say as the door begins to open, him shuffling inside with a plate in his hand. “I brought you something to snack on while you’re in here.” It was more than just a snack. Eddie had made you a whole plate and brought it to you.

“Awe, you didn’t have to do that.”

“Actually, I did,” he says with a chuckle. “Or else there might not have been anything left for you by the time you were done.”

“So everyone likes the food?” You ask with a bit of hope in your voice. Eddie nods, and you sigh with relief. “Thank god.”

“It’s honestly really good,” Eddie says bringing a roll to your mouth. You take a bite and had to admit he was right.

“Eddie,” you say in a wobbly tone, feeling tears starting to well in your eyes.

“Yes, my love?” He says turning to look at you.

“Thank you so much,” you say with a sniffle.

“The roll was that good?” He asks with a laugh.

You shake your head, “No, no, I mean…Just thank you. For everything. I’ve never felt so complete in my whole life and it’s all thanks to you.”

Eddie goes to open his mouth to say something, but closes it. He suddenly sits up from the bed, walking over to his nightstand and opening the drawer. He pulls out a piece of paper and looks it over before holding it to his chest.

Walking back, he plops back on the bed and clears his throat. “Um, this is something I’ve been working on for a while,” he says fidgeting with the paper. You look at it, then back to him. It was covered in his sloppy hand writing and you were instantly brought back to all the letters you’ve shared between the two of you. The ones that brought you together.

“It was originally going to be my wedding vows to you, but it’s gotten so long that I don’t think anyone is going to want to sit and listen to me while I talk on and on. So I just…I guess I’m ready to share it with you now.”

“Okay,” you say barely above a whisper, extremely intrigued as to what he has to say.

“Alright, here it goes,” Eddie says clearing his throat again.

“To my future wife,

It’s always going to be hard to put into words exactly how you make me feel. I could write poetry, could write you a song, could buy a plane and fly the words across the sky. But none of that will ever be enough. So I’ll do what I do best and write you this letter.

Not a day has gone by since we met that I don’t think about you. Even when I was still locked up, the thought of you played on my mind a lot. To me, I felt an instant connection with you. It might not have been love at first, but I knew that you were going to mean something to me. With every passing letter that turned into phone calls, that turned into us meeting for the first time, I only realized that you were put into my life for a reason. And that reason has become clearer with every day that I get to spend waking up next to you and being blessed by a God I don’t believe in with the grace of your smile.

Now that I have you in my life, I don’t think I can ever imagine a life without you in it. I want to spend every possible moment with you that I can, even the bad ones. I can’t wait until the day we’re old and grey and sitting in our rocking chairs on the front porch while we watch the sun go down. Because then I’ll know that I have lived a full, one by your side.

Now that we’re going to be parents, which I still can’t believe, I want to make sure that I’m there for you no matter what. We probably won’t get married until after the baby is born, but I hope you know that we don’t have to do things the traditional way. I’ve never been normal, but I think you know that by now. So lets just do things how we want to from here on out.”

“This last part I wrote recently,” he says, pointing at the paper, avoiding looking at you.

“Wow, I really can’t believe we’ve earned the title of mom and dad already. Nothing could have prepared me for first time parenthood, but I’m glad I have you by my side to go through it. You’ve been nothing short of amazing as a mom and I couldn’t be more proud of you. I think Wayne has been the missing puzzle piece that we didn’t even know we needed in our lives. He rounds out our family in such a positive way that I sometimes feel like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. That’s how too good to be true my life with you feels. I don’t know what the future holds, but no matter what happens, I know that you and I will be able to work it together as a team.

I guess I should wrap this up and give it to you before Wayne goes to college. Just know I love you so much and I always will. Never forget that, my love.”

Eddie turned to look at you, not even surprised to see the mess you’d become. Tears streaked your cheeks and you were holding in a sob that kept trying to escape.

“E-Eddie…” you say, leaning into him, finally letting it out with a little cry. “That was so sweet. I don’t even know what to say.”

Eddie kisses the crown of your head before resting his cheek against it.

“You don’t have to say anything. I already know how you feel. You make sure I know it every day. This is just my own way of saying thank you.”

You held your baby tight in your arms, suddenly overwhelmed at the life you’d been given. The man next to you loved you and you loved him. You were going to get married and spend the rest of your days together. As a family.

thank you all so much for reading!

#eddie munson #on the outside #inmate!eddie munson #inmate!eddie munson x reader #dad!eddie munson #dad!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson st #eddie munson stranger things

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mcu-fan-fics-blog · 2 days ago

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Routine V

Mini Series

Wanda Maximoff x fem wife!reader

Summary: Routines can get tiring quickly, especially when you’re the only one working towards keeping them.

A/n: We meet again friends. I am very happy to be updating this fic once more. Also happy to inform that I have found a direction in which to take it!!! I hope you enjoy reading it.

Word count: 1400 approx

She was at a crossroads, there was nothing that she could do to stop you from leaving. She hadn’t stopped pacing the room since you left. That's when she saw it… Her saving grace. Maybe if she did this one thing she could at least open the door if not maybe just unlock it, something. At this point that was definitely better than nothing. Your passport and what looked like important papers were left sitting on the kitchen counter. You had left in a furious haze, something was meant to be left behind. You just didn’t think it would be your passport and work visa. That was the one thing that you thought you had in lock, the one thing that you couldn't forget… And you forgot it. Truthfully you knew that something was missing the moment that you stepped into the car with Kate, but you chalked it up to the stress that Wanda had caused.

There was a time that anything that remotely felt like a fight was a no go. You never wanted to fight with Wanda, nothing about arguing with her seemed pleasant. In the beginning it was obvious she was scared and all of it was new. You danced around obvious issues the two of you had. One issue was a rather big one being Vision. It was strange their connection. It was something you knew would have easily gone the other way had you not been in the picture. They understood each other; you felt like the odd man out in your own relationship with her. It wasn’t until you exploded one day that the issue was addressed. Thinking back Wanda should have seen this coming. It almost ended the relationship before it really even began. She was tempted to call you, she really was. But she’d just crossed a very big boundary. Instead she texted Kate.

Her text was read almost immediately the text bubble kept appearing but nothing was sent. Wanda instead sent another message. ‘I’ll meet you at the gate, lose Y/n for a minute and I’ll give you her passport.’ She only received a thumbs up and she was on her way. It was high time Wanda started taking action. She wasn’t going to fail you now.

You were lying. You had no idea where you got the confidence from but it was a complete lie. You loved her so much it hurt. She didn’t read your mind that time and it hurt that she believed you. Tears welled in your eyes, this day wasn’t supposed to go like this. You were supposed to leave peacefully, and now you had no idea what you were doing. She shook you. Wanda came into your life and turned it upside down and now she’s done it again. It was rough. Kate had been fidgety for the past twenty minutes. “Are you okay?” You managed to get the words out. She stilled wide eyed. “Uhm shouldn’t I be asking you that?” You hummed. “Probably… I’m just tired of the same thing over and over again.” You sighed. “There are so many things that I wanted to say. But she was right in front of me and the words disappeared.” Kate nodded, her eyes still fixed on the road.

“Do you think… that uhm you’ll get back together?” She asked the obvious question. It only made your shoulders deflate more. Not because she asked, “It’s not up to me.” but because of how pitiful the answer was. And it was entirely up to her. You hadn't even been able to bring yourself to draft the papers. The fear that she’d actually sign them still managed to keep you up at night. What if she did, what then? “My heart… it aches constantly. Like something was ripped from me.” Kate cleared her throat. “You’re leaving Y/n… You're going abroad for god knows how long.” You nodded. “How else can I show her what she’s doing to me? Years Kate I’ve put up with it for years.” Kate nodded. “I did not suffer in silence, I let her know at every turn how she was compromising us.” Your words were laced with anger and conviction. And so quickly the sadness gave way to raw anger.

Wanda felt she should have thought this entire situation out more. Here she was in her car on her way to the airport, filled with hundreds if not thousands of people. And the most daunting part being that you’re unaware. Her mind was already starting to hold her hostage. She made the treck mostly on autopilot. Then there was the whole getting through security, nothing her powers couldn’t handle. Only she somehow couldn’t. She had not felt this lack of control since ultron, she was tripping where she had learned repeatedly not to. It was overwhelming navigating through the masses of people trying to get to their flights, homes, families. Everyone's thoughts traversed constantly. Eventually and not without struggle she had found Kate, near a coffee shop.

“Finally! I thought you’d make this hard for me.” Kate’s words washed right through her. The only thing she could hear now was an angry ring, mocking her. She shook her head softly trying to dissipate the sound. Then she stilled, she could sense it. Her powers out of pure reflex sought you out. And another pang of sadness ran through her. She’d never been able to sense your anger. A slap in the face a testament as to how unwelcome she truly was. A tug at her arm brought her back. She was clutching your passport in her hand. The folder already in Kate’s possession. Kate sighed. “Are you okay?” She relented and finally asked the question. That seemed to snap her out of whatever trance she was in. She let go of the Passaport like it burned her. Kate noticed her distress and asked again. “My powers… are acting up, I'll be fine.” Kate nodded, not fully convinced.

Kate had decided she’d throw Wanda a life line. She did not think someone could make a change so drastically in a matter of hours. This Wanda that was standing in front of her was not the same one she witnessed yell indignantly at you. This Wanda looked defeated, vulnerable. “She’s still waiting for you…” Kate said. Taking the woman in, and for a moment she wasn’t sure Wanda had heard her. Then tears started rolling down her face. “I don’t think she is…” the words came out tersely and clipped. “She's angry, she has every right to be. That doesn’t change the fact that she’s waiting… so give her time.” Kate sighed, taking a step back. “Fight for her…” She turned on her heel and walked away. Wanda seconds later managed to do the same. Her resolve slowly cemented.

Kate made her way back just as you started looking for her. She looks slightly flushed. Two coffees in hand, a folder tucked in between her arm and torso. Your eyes widened at the sight. “I didn’t even realize I was missing that!” You exclaimed. Taking a cup out of her hand, and the folder at the same time. “Kate, you're a lifesaver.” She nodded, taking a long sip of her drink. Then silence followed, you could have sworn you felt something. It made your heart race. You remembered the familiar feeling. A slight fuzz just out of reach in your mind. You couldn’t help but look around. Could it be, or was it just her lingering in your mind. Then once again Kate brought you back into the present. “Here your boarding group is about to be called.” Kate pulled you up from your seat making toward the line now forming.

Right as your ticket was scanned. She pulled you to the side slightly. “Promise you’re coming back.” You managed a small smile. “I will, I don’t think your mother will keep me away forever.” You joked. Keeping an eye on the people boarding. Kate nodded trying to reassure herself. “You forgot your passport… she brought them here. That's why I was gone for a minute.” Your heart started racing. “I didn’t want to keep it from you.” Then before you could even respond an airline worker was ushering through into the boarding tunnel. The last thing Kate managed to say was for you to call her when you landed.

A/n: Please leave a like if you liked it!!! Late because I completely forgot to schedule. :(

Tag list: @fxckmiup @username23345 @xxxtwilightaxelxxx

#marvel mcu #fanfic #wanda maximoff #fanfiction #mcufam #mcu #wanda x reader #mcu fic #wanda x fem reader #wanda x fem!reader #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #marvel #wanda angst

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multiheadcanons · 22 hours ago

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THE MERCS AS PASSENGERS IN MY CAR EXCEPT I DONT GIVE ANY CONTEXT

scout: normal passenger. he can get passenger seat if nobody else is in the car. likes my car’s aesthetic. doesn’t complain about the speeding or the volume of the music. won’t let me touch my phone while the car is in motion. answers all my calls and texts. please stop doing that. knows way too much about me because he has my phone. he’s lucky he’s cute.

soldier: get in the backseat. be happy i don’t put him in the trunk. won’t complain about the volume of the music but will complain about music selection. messes with my bluetooth transmitter and turns my cabin lights on. please stop doing that. tries to get phone privileges, i would rather wreck the car going 55 than give him my phone.

pyro: pyro can sit up front but would probably choose the backseat. obsessed with what i got going on with my ceiling. pyro would probably appreciate car camping in the same sense that i appreciate car camping. i would let pyro set the leds color in my car because i love them and want them to think i’m cool and jiggy with the real weirdos.

demo: another normal passenger. will fall asleep in the front seat so he can have front seat so that nobody else has access to my phone. i wouldn’t make him sit in the back, he’d have to decide to sit in the back and he rarely would. that’s okay with me, he won’t complain about the heat or the windows or the music or the speeding, so he’s like, second in line for front seat privileges.

heavy: number one front seat priority. only merc i will not have my volume maxed out while i drive. if he does have complaints, he won’t make them known. finds the sprucing up… humorous, somewhat. will absentmindedly go through my phone and i would actually die if he did that so we’re driving on instinct and my phone is safely on my side of the car. hope i know where i’m going.

engie: backseat driving son of a bitch. get in the trunk. he’ll grab the side handles every time i don’t come to a perfect brake, or if i’m two miles over the limit. asks if i was taught to drive by cavemen. i say yes to piss him off. holds my phone hostage, if he doesn’t actively throw it out of the window. i feel like engie and i would argue a lot in the car. i’d tell him he’s welcome to walk, at least once. i feel like he would also be the guy i trust the most to drive my car if i couldn’t drive it for some reason. like i wouldn’t willingly hand my keys over to anyone else, no questions asked. would also beg him to do the maintenance on the car, and probably still end up having to pay him good money to get it done. worth it.

medic: i don’t think medic would willingly get in my car unless the keys were in his hand. i don’t think he’d let me drive my own car. he might pay my insurance though if he wants to drive it to do whatever he wants to do. which is hilarious, because he is a dogshit driver. i wanna join for the ride though. see if i can get him to make a pit stop. and it’d be nice to split gas. would probably like using my car as a private meeting area, somewhere to be with no recording devices where he needs as much privacy as he can feasibly swing with minimal payout on his end. will intentionally go through my phone. i’d let him, and then gaslight the fuck out of everyone else that whatever he saw on there wasn’t actually there. give them my phone and everything.

sniper: snipes can only get in my car if scout’s in my car. because i want to torture that man and i want scout to help me do it. he gets front seat because the button to roll the window up and down doesn’t work, but my button still works, so i’ll roll the windows all the way down— which he won’t mind. what he will mind is me playing the entirety of dauntless manifesto until he’s desperately trying to roll the window up. scout won’t get what’s going on until we get to water balloons. once he sees that damn aussie freeze in his seat he is 100% on board with what’s happening, and every other window goes up except sniper’s. he will never enter my car again unless nobody else can drive.

spy: i’d have to hold spy at gunpoint to even get him to approach the car. and even then if i have the keys in hand he’s not getting in the car. he will, however, steal my keys and go on a joy ride without my knowledge. just to see how it drives. see why i enjoy driving in my car. he doesn’t really get it. will also commandeer my car as a private, unrecorded meeting area whenever he wanted it and i wasn’t actively in it so i couldn’t start the car and trap him in it. would also use it as a smoke spot. he gets why i love my car when the car is not in motion.

#team fortress 2 #team fortress two #tf2 sniper #tf2 medic #tf2 heavy #tf2 scout #tf2 soldier #tf2 spy #tf2 engineer #tf2 demo #tf2 pyro #tf2 demoman #tf2

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guacamoleravioli · 4 months ago

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I can’t believe the mcu has for real lesbians now

#agatha all along #Agatha all along spoilers #I mean it is still ***technically*** subtext but she was literally halfway to full mouth-to-mouth contact #head tilt n everything #kathryn hahn’s acting this episode was so heartbreaking #I’m not getting my hopes up for a happy ending for the two of them but like. I want it SO bad

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seventh-district · 7 months ago

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several days and 15 thousand words later, i am relieved to report that the suffocating urge to Write Something has been sated and no longer has me in a chokehold

#Seven.txt #writing stuff #thinking of that post that’s like ‘u Have To make art or all the ideas stay stuck in ur brain and make u sick’ bc yeah thats been the vibe #wish i wasn’t so all or nothing about it tho. but alas. i’m that way with everything in my life #i either expect 10k in a day from myself or i don’t write at all for weeks. or months :)#and my average pace is about 500 words per hour. so u can see. how that might be a problem. given how many hours are in a day.#and that’s obviously not sustainable. but idk if it’s adhd or what but it’s So hard to quickly start and stop tasks just Whenever #i struggle to be one of those ppl that can consistently write like. 500 words a day every day and then wow! soon you have a whole novel #nah. once i get myself in the Zone then i’m Goin’ and i can’t stop until i’m Done or i collapse from ignoring my body’s needs lmao #it’s something i should make an effort to do though bc i’d love to be consistently chipping away at things instead of working in bursts #anyways this is a lotta negative self-commentary for what is actually a Positive post! bc yay!! i wrote a thing!! Two things actually!!! 🎉#i got the follow-up to last year’s Matt oneshot done And i wrote the next chapter of Heaven in Hiding after uh. a year and some months #i wanted to blow the dust off the ol’ keyboard by starting with writing some less. uh. high-stakes(?) stuff #not that i didn’t put my all into writing them. i always do. just that ik they’ll have less of an audience so ill cringe less if they suck #so then i can hopefully do justice to the [N]MbD stuff that i’ll be putting out next! ehehe *rubbing my hands together* Finally #the next two [N]MbD fics r already written but the first little one needs a final edit #and then the Big one for. uh. someone (u kno who u r) needs a bit of rewriting i think. i wanna make it Better #so release schedule will be 1. Matt • 2. HiH Ch.3 • 3. [N]MbD small fic • 4. [N]MbD Big fic #then i’m gonna write a lil Boothill comfort oneshot. then i’ll edit/maybe rewrite and post that Dew (Ghost) OCD comfort oneshot #i also wanna keep writing the last couple chapters of HiH before i unintentionally abandon it again #and after/amidst all that maybe i’ll manage to get ES Ch.6 written and posted before the end of the year 😭#anyways ik i’ve made posts like this before. talking abt all these Plans of mine. and most of those things r Still stuck in the pipeline #so don’t put too much stock into this plan. i could have another Bad couple of months and get None of it done #but god i sure fucking hope not. i’d really like to cling to my creativity. if for no other reason than that it makes me happy

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kavehayati · 2 months ago

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Man I made a really bad choice …

#just one day and I can retreat into myself #I think I need to stop saying anything bc when I do and nobody says anything and they act like they don’t see / acknowledge it then #it makes me start acting up #I was contemplating two days ago to just hope off social media for some months bc things keep messing up and #dora daily #God …#I don’t know what’s wrong with my head ? I worry that I hit it bad that one time #bc it’s like my brain can barely function properly ? it feels weirder than usually #maybe I’ll just shut down all socials for some months and then just form a little enclosure #bc truthfully the fact that I feel so strangely volatile is unnerving #I’m never volatile #and if I can’t control myself then I’m super worried bc my whole thing is controlling myself #anyways I’ll try get some sleep #idk if it’ll work but #I think that if I say ‘smth hurts’ or ‘I’m having a bad time’ then the thing that can fix that is a simple acknowledgement #of such thing I said and literally saying any nice thing ever #pisses me off to no end when ppl get that so easily when they’re horrible ppl and I can’t even get that #like … ppl I’ve met for one day accomodate for me like I fell down from heaven (they’re too nice and I’m confused abt their kindness)#and ppl I’ve known for yrs or even one yr fail to treat me with any decency what #how they took everything I said into account #like I don’t like physical touch or the fact I don’t like being near guys so they moved and let me sit in the middle :(#see ? it’s so easy #and stupid irrelevant things like that you don’t understand how much it means to me #like I’m happy soooo easily you got no idea how easy it is to make me happy #but idk why for some reason it feels like it’s an impossible ask ? or like it’s an otherworldly unheard of thing to actually like your #friends enough to want them to even be happy ? like if you have the capacity to make them happy esp if it’s so easy why wouldn’t you ? I’m #confused #anyways

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yeahxsurexokay13 · 1 month ago

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wrong guy, lando norris

summary: fans think yn is dating max, but they've got the wrong guy [bsf!reader]

been a min since i posted! honestly, these just take me way too long and i usually end up abandoning them because i start hating them halfway through from overthinking lol. hope you enjoy this one though (: xx

y/n.y/l 📍 Ibiza, Spain

Liked by riabish, carlossainz55 and 159.870 others

y/n.y/l we only argued 3 times, cried 2, and got lost 1 (personal record)

view all 579 comments

user9 right so who argued? who cried? and most importantly whO IS THE SHADOW?

user14 can we talk about how u're LITERALLY glowing in that first pic? u look so happy, girl!!

user20 the vibes on this dump… rich people's holidays just hit different.

iamrebeccad ✓ Beautiful girl 😍

y/n.y/l 🫶🏼 miss youu!!

user4 “cried 2 times” is actually impressive ♥︎ by author

user55 lando and max just casually being brothers in the fourth pic 😩❤️

user81 that shot is just *chef’s kiss*!!!! Glad we can always count on this queen for hq content

user63 Okay so I’ve been staring at this shadow pic for like 10 minutes, and I can’t figure it out…

user33 my money’s on max bc that hug pic of them earlier too… feels very coupley.

user63 idk friends to lovers agenda thriving tho

user3 Max and Lando with the face masks are killing me 😂 ♥︎ by author

user6 max or lando? place your bets now. i’m team max but i’ll die on this hill if i'm wrong

user2 which you are, because it’s definitely Lando

user8 guys they’ve literally known each other since forever and go on these friends holidays all the time lmao this is just FRIENDSHIP GOALS. stop romanticising everything!!!

user24 then explain the head kiss?

user8 friendly head kisses???

user24 friendly kisses?? in this economy? be serious. that’s couple behaviour

user12 smells like a third wheel in here…

y/n.y/l sorry, that's just me. i am the third wheel🙋🏼‍♀️

user13 she really said 'stop shipping me with my best friends' lol

user44 max and lando with the face masks in the water might be my new favourite photo of all time

user16 ngl that's not bad statistics for a week long trip ♥︎ by author

user11 If it’s Max, I’ll cry. If it’s Lando, I’ll cry harder. If it’s neither, I don’t know what I’ll do.

user18 i’ve been following these three for years and i’m still trying to figure out if that last slide is supposed to be romantic or not….? HELP I AM SO CONFUSED

user22 what book is that? i need recommendations!!

y/n.y/l just for the summer!!! LOVED it x

user10 i can’t believe she was so chill about posting thAT LAST PIC!??!! miss y/l!!! SPILL NOW

maxfewtrell ✓ Why are you saying 'we'? Pretty sure you were the one who did all of those

landonorris ✓ classic move, shifting the blame

y/n.y/l @/landonorris @/maxfewtrell the getting lost part was definitely a team effort

user1 I need to go on a trip with friends like this ♥︎ by author

user5 being that close to lando AND max and surviving the friendship without catching feelings was too good to be true let's be honest

pietra.pilao 😍😍

y/n.y/l 💞💞

user7 so when’s the next ‘friends holiday'? asking for a friend (me)

15 August 2024

maxfewtrell ✓

Liked by landonorris, y/n.y/l and 98.982 others

maxfewtrell The real girlfriend reveal, for the record 🫡

👤 pietra.pilao

view all 398 comments

user1 WAIT WHAT

user6 so it really wasn’t Y/n??

pietra.pilao ❤️❤️ ♥︎ by author

user4 omg she's the girl who commented on yn's holiday dump!!!

user3 We owe Max and his gf an apology 😭 She’s stunning, btw

user2 omg u two are so cuteeeeeeee! happy for u max :)

user5 your gf is so pretty 😭😭😭

y/n.y/l P!!!! 💕💕

y/n.y/l you two make a better couple than you and I ever would anyway 😂 ♥︎ by author

user9 WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY THIS EARLIER?! we’ve been spiralling for WEEKS

user12 actually he's been saying it from the beginning. we just didn't want to listen 😂😂

user8 max: “here’s my gf. leave me out of y/n’s business”

user12 OK but pietra is STUNNING!! Max, you’ve been hiding her for how long?!

user7 the way he had to clarify this because of us is actually hilarious. sorry, Max.

user11 OMG I feel so dumb now we really had y/n in a whole relationship she wasn’t even in 😭

29 August 2024

y/n.y/l

Liked by oscarpiastri, sophiaaemelia and 289.034 others

y/n.y/l outtakes from ai·bee·thuh

view all 930 comments

user1 AAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!?? MYSTERY SOLVED IG

user12 I THINK THIS MIGHT BE THE GREATEST THING TO HAPPEN TO MY FEED THIS YEAR I AM NOT EVEN JOKING

maxfewtrell ✓ So Lando gets the cute video and I get the passed out in the car pic? Playing favourites, I see. Noted.

user8 Max calling out Y/n for favoritism is peak sibling energy

user33 i can't believe we were full on shipping them not even a week ago omg

maxfewtrell ✓ Also, can everyone stop tagging me in that shadow pic now? Like, I’m good, it’s definitely not me 😅 ♥︎ by author

user11 pietra honestly deserves a medal for surviving this holiday with these three omg

user17 GUYS I WAS ALREADY PRETTY SHOCKED AT LANDO'S VIDEO BLOWING A KISS I HAD NO IDEA WHAT I HAD COMING

pietra.pilao Special week 🤍 ♥︎ by author

user81 the lift photo with the McDonald’s bag is so relatable. even on a fancy holiday, you gotta have your nuggets ♥︎ by author

user25 turns out Max wasn't lying when he said y/n wasn’t his headache... lando’s the lucky one 😂

user10 and y/n and pietra? they do ✨besties ✨ better than anyone ♥︎ by author

user19 can we get a ‘whoops, my bad’ from the ppl who saw them in Ibiza and STILL missed the fact that Pietra was there?

user2 they literally had a front row seat to the full gossip and still didn’t catch on !!!!! like hELLO? u had one job

user14 THE SOFT LAUNCH TURNED INTO A HARD LAUNCH REAL QUICK I AM SHOOK

alexandrasaintmleux ✓ Ahhh loveeee 🩷🩷 ♥︎ by author

user26 both boys punching above their weight fr. i said what i said.

francisca.cgomes ✓ ❤️❤️😍 ♥︎ by author

user16 The way Max is sleeping in that last pic has me wheezing ♥︎ by author

user3 lando is literally holding y/n like he’s never letting her go boy is WHIPPED

user29 WE'RE GOING TO SEE "LANDO NORRIS' PARTNER" UNDER YN'S NAME NOW WHEN SHE WATCHES FROM THE GARAGE what a time to be alive

user7 not the way y/n is casually posting a McDonald’s bag in a robe and THEN dropping the most beautiful couple pic with lando

user5 waIT SO THE BOY KISSING HER HEAD IN THE SHADOW PIC WAS LANDO??? WE WERE ALL WRONG. I NEED TO LIE DOWN.

maxfewtrell you know, it truly baffles me how this was barely even considered

y/n.y/l no one believed in me enough to be able to pull f1 race winner lando norris. humbling.

user20 YN I - 😭😭😭😭💀💀

user38 it was a couple’s holiday the whole time 😭😭 I need a moment to recover

user9 this fandom’s clownery knows no bounds istg.........

user21 not me crying over the hard launch of the year when I was just admiring Max’s sleeping face 5 seconds ago

user24 Ibiza really gave us everything: friendship goals, couple goals, and max in a food coma

user18 IT WAS LANDO KISSING HER HEAD. I feel so betrayed by my own theories and also pretty disappointed in myself i couldn't tell it was his shadow

landonorris ✓ I see you saved the best for last 🖤

y/n.y/l ☺️☺️

y/n.y/l omg guys i wasn’t being dry i just don’t know what else to say with all you watching 😭😭

1 September 2024

#social media au #f1 imagine #f1 smau #f1 x reader #lando norris smau #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #bsf!reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you

2K notes · View notes

kitimeq · 29 days ago

Text

ੈ✩‧₊˚we can’t be friends 🤍 xavier 星回 ੈ✩‧₊˚

RE-UPLOAD! The original post didn’t show up in the tags, sorry for the confusion :c

pairing ੈ✩: xavier x reader

summary ੈ✩: you and xavier had been best friends for years, nearly inseparable since the moment you met. But after one slightly drunken night, everything shifted: you became friends with benefits. You told yourself you could handle it, but as time went on, your heart began to ache. You had to end it, for your own sake. You were in love with him, but you couldn't shake the painful truth: you believed he’d never feel the same. Still, what if, all this time, while you were trying to push him away, he was quietly hoping to show you how perfect you two were together?

word count ੈ✩: 12k. omg. it’s LONG, long. grab some snacks and let me entertain you for a while!!

tropes ੈ✩: 18+, smut, best friends with benefits, miscommunication, unrequired love, not really tho, angst, angst with happy ending, plot with porn, love confessions, needy xavier, obsessed xavier, domestic xavier, i suck at giving tropes i swear i will get better someday, desperate xavier, everything is consensual, the consumption of alcohol mentioned, pet names, xavier was once in love with mc but the myths are not canon in this one!!

author’s note ੈ✩: GUYS this one’s IT. This idea was blooming slowly in my mind for quite some time. I really hope you’ll like it 🥹 also, please be gentle with me, i’m not a native speaker of english and I’m definitely not a writer. I like to think that everything i create is just fueled by my passionate delulu. please let me know if you liked it and if maybe you’d like to read part 2!! ♡ enjoy your reading!!

!!do NOT read if you’re not 18+!!

ੈ✩‧₊˚

It all started with the simplest of touches.

Your hands grazed, as if by accident. Then your eyes met. He grabbed you by your forearm, or maybe you grabbed him, everything was so blurry in your mind. A touch on a waist, a hand on a chest, and a sudden clash of your lips. You saw fireworks exploding in your mind, sending pleasant thrumming throughout your whole body.

Desperate touches. Rapid breaths. A whisper, maybe two. He said something. What did he say? The sound of your heart was the only thing you could hear.

Your dress came off. You felt lips. Lips marking every part of your body, leaving behind wet paths that made the exposed skin shiver due to the coolness of the air. He went down. Down. Down, and looked at you expectantly. Your head never nodded that quickly and it probably never will again. You saw stars. Millions and millions of them, shimmering under your closed eyelids. He grabbed your hand and put it into his hair. You caressed it gently, savoring the softness of it.

Then, you saw his eyes. Beautiful, deep blues that looked far too innocent for what he did and what he was about to do with you next. He kissed you again and again, and again, and he held you close throughout the whole night, making you shiver, moan, cry, beg — until you fell asleep from exhaustion right in the safety of his arms. He turned your world upside down.

And then came the next morning, when you began to question the entire ordeal. You panicked, thinking about your friendship that you valued the most and Xavier, whom you just couldn’t bear to lose. However, when you wanted to put it past you, to blame the alcohol consumed that night, act as if it was just a slip of your judgement, a mistake, a reaction caused by the need of intimacy after being single for a long time, he wasn’t having it. He said that he couldn’t forget about it, that it changed things, and you blurted out the first thing that came into your mind. You proposed the whole arrangement.

And that’s how, after several months, your relationship with Xavier stayed clear and technically uncomplicated. Friends with benefits. You thought that even if that night did change things, then in this way you could act as if it wasn’t a big deal to you. In this way, you wouldn’t have to lose him, wouldn’t make things awkward. You still acted normally in front of each other, you continued to spend time in almost the same way you were before that faithful night, but with one drastic change.

Almost every encounter since that night ended with you in his bed or the other way around. Hours and hours spend in each other’s embrace, touching and feeling too much, all at once.

And said feelings were what made you finally decide that you couldn’t do this anymore. You couldn’t continue sharing with him this intimacy, pretending that everything between you remained unchanged. You couldn’t do this anymore, knowing that it was all that you’ll ever get from him, despite being in love with him for so long.

You knew that he would never reciprocate your feelings. You knew that from the beginning, from the very first touch of your fingertips that night, but you foolishly thought that having him close for as long as he wanted you, would be enough for you. Even if he wanted you only for your body, because you were the easiest choice.

However, your heart was breaking every time you were reminded of one significant fact, a harsh reality that felt like a bucket of cold water in your face.

He will never love you. Because you were not her.

And you would never be.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

You already had a strategy to end the arrangement. You wanted to take it slow, step by step, with just a bit of pain on your side. You knew it wasn't your best plan, but it was a plan nonetheless. You wanted to end the friends-with-benefits arrangement in a way that would make you both slowly, almost naturally, drift apart—so subtly that he wouldn't even notice the change. As for you, you were ready to bear the painful consequences of your actions, if it saved you from the excruciating pain of a broken heart later.

You started with avoiding his kisses.

And it turned out to be a tough job to do, because you didn’t realize before how much of a kisser Xavier became during your friends-with-benefits situation. It never really bothered you before, you always accepted every single kiss with content. However, during your last meeting, you were trying so hard to avoid his lips, and noticed that he made it into an almost impossible task.

When you went out one night, he wanted to kiss you three times during hot pot, even though you were sitting across from each other. You thought that the sitting situation was enough of an obstacle, but you quickly learned that he always somehow managed to find a chance to try to steal a kiss. That not only bewildered you, but also made you blush so hard that you had to blame the spicy food for it to not look suspicious. Yet, you managed to stay your ground and ignored his needy attempts at capturing your lips.

You also avoided his lips while you were later watching a movie in his apartment, by pretending that you didn’t see or feel his constant gaze on you. You thought that maybe if he saw that the movie engaged you so much, he would finally drop the attempts. Unfortunately, your plan failed the moment his patience thinned, when he started kissing your neck while cradling your body to his. He was grabbing at you almost desperately and you really couldn’t escape from every single kiss he was giving you, no matter how much you tried to. And you really tried to.

“Why—why are you turning your face away? A-Ah… Let me look at y-you—mmm.” He said between his moans, and he never once stopped thrusting inside you. It was the day when he took you on a sofa between his soft, plushy pillows with the movie still playing in the background. Your legs were laying on his shoulder, his both hands holding onto them tightly while his hips thrusted deep inside you, making you gasp in pleasure. When you didn’t respond and kept your head away, hoping that he would finally stop with his relentless kisses, his hand gently grabbed your face and turned it towards his so that your eyes met. He smiled softly, his cheeks pink and face damp. “Yes, there you are. You feel good? You wanna break?” He almost slurred and you adored how quickly he was loosing himself with you, how much he was loosing his composure. When you squeezed your eyes, moaning at a harder thrust and shook your head no, he whimpered. Next thing you knew, he lowered your legs onto the sofa and layed between them, bringing his body closer to yours. Your chests touched and you could feel his rapid heartbeat, mirroring the rhythm of your own. He nudged your head, which was still turned to the side, with his nose.

“Give me a kiss, c’mon, starlight.” He kissed your cheek, slowing down his thrusts to a lazy, delicate ones. “I couldn’t get a kiss all day, I need it. Let me.” And when you saw his eyes, full of desperation and something that reminded you of adoration, you couldn’t keep denying him. Your lips touched his and he didn’t let go of them until you came, and later when he began growling straight into your mouth, chasing his own undoing.

It was the last time you met up, and after that you decided that you had to cut it off completely. You couldn’t continue being with him like this, not when you knew that he already loved someone else. Being with him this close messed with your head. You didn’t want to feel like a convenient second choice and you couldn’t help but feel that your meetings were slowly becoming more and more intimate. You had to constantly remind yourself that you weren’t together. You made sure to label the change in your relationship properly at the start of the arrangement — still on friendly terms, with occasional mutual pleasure. But the close proximity and constant intimacy started to make the lines blurry in your mind.

And your heart couldn’t take it anymore, it hurt every time you reminded yourself that he didn’t reciprocate your feelings, and that he never will.

After that movie night you decided that the next step to your goal would be to stop engaging in small talk with him, especially the one that occurred at work.

You worked together at the Hunter’s Association, he was one of the best Hunters out there, and you specialized in weapon modification from the safety of your own desk. You wanted to be a hunter once, but with your Evol involving micromodification you guessed that you could be needed in a position that involved working with weaponry. After working there for years, you were passionate about your work and elated to have a job you loved and where you thrived while helping others to the best of your abilities.

Thus, because of the shared place of employment, you saw Xavier almost every day. He was often near your desk, passing by it, putting snacks before you or teasing you with that soft smile of his. So cutting the contact out there was one of the toughest jobs for you, but it had to be done.

When you knew that he would be free, you found a task that needed completion in other departments, so that you will not cross paths. Often, instead of others coming to you to fix their weapons, you proposed to make the trip instead. In this way you were always quick on your feet, going from department to department, back to the workshop and again to the others’ desks. You didn’t mind the extra activity, it made you think less about your breaking heart.

And when Xavier managed to catch you from time to time, because he always somehow would, you were trying to appear too busy even for a small conversation.

“Where are you rushing off to again? I didn’t manage to talk to you these past few days.” He said one day when he caught you by your elbow while you were going out of the bathroom. He must’ve seen you go in there and wait for you to come out. He brought you a little closer to himself and looked at your face so intently, that you got scared he could see right through you.

“Sorry Xai, I’m just really busy lately.” You answered, maybe too quickly, and were trying to calm your beating heart upon seeing him so close again. Too close. It didn’t help that he was in his hunter’s uniform, that made him look twice as dreamy. You were so close that you could also smell his comforting scent and see the small scar on his cheek that he got last year after you two tried ice skating for the first time.

The first and the last, for it appeared that you were much better at it than he would ever be, and you wanted to avoid him getting hurt again. It was also before your friends-with-benefits situation, when your friendship was pure and healthy. Your heart squeezed remembering how he grabbed your hand then, and how tightly he used to hold it throughout the whole activity.

“Xavier, are you sure you don’t want to go back home already? I’m afraid that your cut will scar if we leave it like that.” You said, looking at the bandaid on his cheek, the only remedy for his small injury that you could provide at that time.

He squeezed your hand and still appeared sheepish after his fall. You secretly found him adorable, you never saw him doing something in which he didn’t excel in. It was as if he let you see a part of himself that no one had ever seen before. That thought made your chest warmer.

“No. I won’t let the ice defeat me.” He said surely and you knew that he won’t give up, even if his legs already visibly trembled from exhaustion. You let out a sigh. “Besides, you’re holding my hand now, so I feel much safer.” He looked at you, his voice soft and cheeks red, most likely from the cold air. Seeing him in such a vulnerable state made you completely overcome by the feeling of tenderness, and you send him a huge smile, thinking that it was the first time he relied on your protection, and not the other way around.

Little did you know that this smile would catch him by surprise so much that he slipped backwards, this time pulling you down with him. However, your reflexes slightly worked, because you managed to put your hand behind his head, shielding it from the impact with ice. You landed on him with a groan as his hands moved to pull your body closer.

“Oh god, Xai, are you okay? How did that happen?” You asked him, trying to lift yourself off of him. You felt him relax his head further into your hand, and when you raised yourself enough to face him directly, he sent you a wide smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. This sight made your heart melt.

“See, I knew you would protect me.” He replied, clearly referring to your hand behind his head. “My little savior.” He called you, and when you puffed the air out, annoyed that he could have hurt himself for real this time, his smile turned into a full laugh, his body shaking under yours. He looked so angelic, covered in snow, laughing in a way that was so scarce that you couldn’t help but join him in his moment of happiness.

And thanks to your mittens, your hand was left with only a purple bruise from the impact. Still, Xavier couldn’t let you forget about it up to the day it disappeared completely, expressing guilt for the minor injury, his sight chasing your hand every time it appeared in his line of vision. He often caressed it softly with his fingers, looking at it with a mysteriously thoughtful expression, whispering “My little savior.” under his breath. It made you wish that the bruise would never disappear.

You took a step back, suddenly overwhelmed by the memories and the closeness between you. He always invaded your personal space, stood so close that you could almost feel his breath on your face. This time, you had had to cut it out for your own good.

“S’okay. You’re always busy but I guess I just got used to meeting you near your desk. Just text me after work? Maybe we could meet up for our book club today.” He said and you swallowed the awful feeling of longing in your chest. Book club was the term you came up with when you both just wanted to sit and read together for hours. Unfortunately, you knew how book club sessions looked like since the beginning of your friends-with-benefits arrangement.

You were sitting together in silence, reading for hours, then talked about your books until you both lost your breaths. A wonderful experience, you adored your little reading sessions, but you knew that recently they always ended with his lips on yours, and with your clothes scattered around his bedroom.

You couldn’t let this go on forever. You couldn’t go back to being just friends now, and you couldn’t keep him so close, knowing that he will never fully be yours. You pitied your poor heart.

“Sure, will do. See you around!” You were aware how awkward you sounded, but before he could stop you, you were already off to your another task of the day.

You didn’t text him after work, and neither did you reply to his message in time. The next day you send him an excuse that you were tired and fell asleep quickly, and you hoped that he believed it or didn’t care enough to question you further.

If the distance hurt you this bad now, you couldn’t even imagine how would it feel when he eventually would’ve left you for her.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

The next stage of your plan involved not answering his texts at all. You allowed yourself small replies from time to time, most often very brief, if the situation called for it. Replying excuses from left to right. Then, you incorporated not picking up his calls, especially on weekends, when he appeared to want to see you the most, because you were absent from the Association building and he couldn’t catch even a glimpse of you.

The distance you yourself put between you broke your heart, and you were getting more and more depressed by the day. Ignoring the person you loved wasn’t easy, when he was the one with whom you wanted to spend your time the most.

To distract yourself from the situation, you were trying to pass your time differently. You were meeting up with your family and friends, or you started doing things that you were putting off for ages. Everything and anything to fill the void in your heart caused by the absence of the one you loved. The absence forced by you.

It had to be done, you reminded yourself daily. You had to end this somehow, no matter how it hurt you. You had to move on. You couldn’t still be in love with him the day he would end up with MC. You knew it would ruin you.

Three weeks passed since your last meeting at the Association and you could feel that Xavier was getting impatient. His calls were more frequent. His messages longer. Sometimes while running away from him at work you could catch how he was scanning the room in search of you. How frustrated he seemed to be. How upset.

You understood it. You were best friends after all, and he also probably needed someone near him to help him get his head clear of MC. You knew that it must’ve been hard for him. But you were sure you were doing the right thing, that’s why you kept avoiding him during the past month, and not only it was the longest period you’ve been away from each other since the start of your complicated arrangement, but also the longest time since the start of your friendship. Even when the times were rough, you managed to see each other at least once or twice a week.

You felt the pain of the distance too. Missing him almost every second of the day. But you had your reasons. You didn’t want to try to satiate the hunger he felt for another woman anymore.

So every time his name appeared on your phone screen, along with the picture of him shoving two muffins into his mouth at the same time, you closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and waited out the signal, simultaneously praying for and dreading the silence.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

On a quiet rainy day, after a month of ignoring almost every attempt to make contact from Xavier, you heard your phone ping thrice. You sighed and put the book you were reading down, deciding that it was a good moment to reply something short to him in order to slightly ease his worries, and make him feel less alarmed. You wanted distance, but you still sticked to responding from time to time, to appear casual. To let the connection break off less abruptly.

xavier: why cant I see U at all recently.

xavier: why are U not picking up my calls and not replying to my texts.

xavier: are U hiding from me?

you: Of course not, just busy.

xavier: busy for me but not busy for others I know U are going out all the time.

xavier: are U mad at me? did I do something wrong.

you: No, you didn’t, don’t worry. It’s just me. I have a lot of things on my mind recently.

xavier: could U please have me on Ur mind too? I miss U.

xavier: so bad it hurts

You let out a rugged breath, and decided to stop responding, but then another text came. This time, making your blood run cold.

xavier: going back from a rough mission right now i think i need help.

you: Oh my god, are you okay? Are you injured?

xavier: cant tell U why dont you come and see me for Urself.

you: Fine, I need to see if you’re okay. Do you need anything? Food? Medicine? I will pick something up on my way there.

xavier: i just need U

You closed your eyes and hid your face in your palms, then swore it would be the last time. You will go in, treat his wounds and go out. It had to be the last time you allowed yourself to be this close to him, and then you had to cut him off completely. A month wasn’t enough to heal your broken heart, and these small sightings won’t make your heart feel any less burdened.

It had to end today.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

When the door opened, he managed to take your breath away once more.

First, only figuratively. His beauty always managed to amaze you. He looked so handsome no matter the circumstances, his hair so fluffy and shiny, his face like that of an angel, with sharp jawline and soft, pink lips almost screaming at you to be kissed. When you met his eyes, you almost gasped at the intensity of his deep blue gaze. There wasn’t a thing about him you didn’t miss terribly after so much time apart.

Then, literally, when the first thing he did was grabbing your hand and hugging you tightly to his chest, that was still clothed in his hunter uniform. He pressed his face into the crown of your hair and touched the nape of your neck, holding it gently with his cold hand.

“Was the mission that difficult?” You asked, thinking that his reaction to you was mostly due to his need for someone else’s closeness. The need for security. “Were you in danger?” You asked quietly, fear bubbling in your mind.

“No. I lied.” He murmured and you felt him squeezing you even harder, inhaling your scent with content. His hand started stroking your back, slowly making its way under your thin coat. “Didn’t know what else to say to make you come see me.” He said and you hoped that he couldn’t hear, nor feel the sound of your erratic heartbeat.

He shouldn’t say things like these, it made you feel too hopeful. You tried to push that feeling down, knowing that’s how he normally acted with you, his best friend. You knew that he didn’t have a lot of people beside him, thus he treasured the ones that stayed. And that thought made you so incredibly apologetic that you had to swallow the tension in your throat. You hated that you fell for him so hard. You hated that you had to leave him because of it. You hated that you knew, that he would blame himself when you’ll leave.

And you started to hate yourself the most because of all of it.

“Did you miss me that much?” You teased, trying to calm yourself with a friendly banter.

“Yes.” The answer was immediate. The kiss he placed on your temple as natural as breathing. “Everything and everyone seems to be taking you away from me these days.” He said and you could hear him sulking. Your heart squeezed again, but you knew that you were doing the right thing. The distance was necessary.

Necessary for you to avoid breaking. You had to protect yourself first, you decided. You couldn’t remain in love with him forever. You had to move on and in order to do that you had to keep the distance. Which was impossible with him around, when he craved physical touch so badly.

You started to be so mad at yourself for breaking your streak today. You didn’t realize how touchy he will be after some time apart and it was getting to your head. You were so conflicted. You felt too much, and that was always the case when you were around him.

He was in love with someone else. Your head was screaming loudly, trying to calm the wave of unwanted emotions.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered. I love you, you thought. “But now I’m here, so maybe I can inspect you for any injuries? You always seem to neglect them as long as they don’t make you bleed out.” You managed to free yourself from his hold and missed how his hands went after you for a second. He didn’t want you to put distance between you two. Not yet, not ever.

He looked into your beautiful, shiny eyes and nodded without a thought. He couldn’t say no to you, not when he saw the still remaining hint of worry in them. Besides, checking for injuries always came with physical contact, and he was so starved. He needed to feel your body close to his. Your hands on him, somewhere, anywhere, everywhere. He felt addicted and craved some kind of relief. He looked after you like a lost puppy, following your footsteps closely, touching the familiar material of your coat that you left on a counter. The distance this past month made him feral, every part of his body screamed to hold you and don’t let go.

You sat down on his couch, and patted the place next to you, hinting at him to sit beside you. He was trying not to appear too eager while doing so, and also when he started taking off the upper part of his uniform. He was almost shaking with excitement knowing that you really came to see him. That you were worried about him. The distance was making him sick. Furious. Desperate. Hurt.

He suppressed a shudder when you touched his shoulder and peeled away the material off his back completely. Your hands were pleasantly warm, as always. He bit his lip trying not to gasp from the contact.

He needed more.

“Xavier.” He hummed, giddy inside upon finally hearing his name from your lips. He was bracing for your outburst. Couldn’t wait for it. “You said you lied about the mission being hard, while having a fucking gash on your back? I-I can’t believe you...” He heard your angry, shaky voice and smirked unintentionally. You were worried about him and he liked that. He liked the attention, when it was coming from you.

Yet, you didn’t know that.

You cursed under your breath and went to grab the first aid kit from one of his drawers, and proceeded to patch the man back up, having no idea that he allowed the Wanderer to injure him, to have an excuse to see you. To keep you with him for a minute longer, even if it was only under the pretense of tending to his injuries. He was ready to do anything at this point to keep you from slipping away from his grasp.

If you knew that, you wouldn’t be so adamant on distancing yourself.

But because you didn’t know, you also didn’t predict that after patching him up, he would propose you to eat dinner with him, making up an excuse that he didn’t want to be alone with his pain. Later, when you wanted to come back to your place, he mentioned he wanted to play kitty cards, the game you adored. You couldn’t refuse him.

During the next hours you spent at his place you both talked in the same way you always used to - about everything and anything, exchanging opinions, stories and everyday thoughts. You laughed together for the first time in weeks, and your cheeks hurt from how much he was able to make you smile. You always had so much fun with him, he was your favorite person in the whole world. You missed him so bad, despite knowing that you couldn’t back out from your plan fully. Yet, you allowed yourself a little break, telling yourself that it was in order for your distancing to not look suspicious. In addition, he was injured, and you felt the need to comfort him in any way you could. The gash on his back wasn’t that deep, but it worried you regardless.

The atmosphere changed drastically only when he managed to win the next round of kitty cards. You jokingly frowned at him, forging displeasure, and he looked directly at your pounting lips. The time seemed to stop when you noticed that look. He raised his hand to touch your collarbone, caressing it with his fingers, up to your neck and over your cheek. He looked deeply into your eyes, and you noticed how dark his became. You found it fascinating that his soft gaze could change so drastically in a matter of seconds.

His hand reached out to grab your chin and brought your face closer to his. And when he whispered: “Could I ask for a reward?” with that dangerous, needy voice of his, you knew that you couldn’t deny him anything.

When your lips touched, you decided that it will be the last time you let it happen. It would be your goodbye, before loosing the feel of his touch. You thought that you could at least make the best of it, get lost in the artificial feeling of being treasured for the last time, before you started the last phase of your plan.

After that, you had to cut off the ties with him completely. No matter the measures. No matter the pain.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

“Xavier, m-maybe not today?” You asked when you realized how low he was going with his kisses. You knew what he was about to do, and you hated how much you couldn’t contain the sounds that were coming out of your mouth when he was doing it. Besides, it didn’t feel like a mutual pleasure anymore, it felt like an act of service and you were not sure you wanted him to pleasure only you.

He looked at you, having already dropped to his knees. He looked ruined, his hair already a mess from the touch of your fingers, lips wet and swollen, shirt off displaying his toned chest, bandaged in the center with caution. He was practically heaving. The sight made you blush.

“Why not?” He voice sounded whiny, his lips already kissing the inside of your thigh as if he couldn’t restrain himself. Every kiss send electricity to your already wet core and you found it hard to think clearly. His hands were grabbing your tights possessively, relishing in their softness. “Please, let me eat you out. I’ll make you feel good, I promise.” The pleading in his eyes was so apparent. So unfiltered.

“Don’t you want to get to the point already?” You offered shyly and he huffed out a laugh.

“Where are you trying to run off to this time?” It sounded like a joke, but he appeared annoyed. “Relax, starlight and let me take care of you. Please.” You still hesitated. It made him pout. “I need it, please, star. I want to taste you so bad. I didn’t manage to last time.” He kissed your knee and put his head on it, looking for the answer in your unsure eyes. “Will you let me?” His pleading tone, along with his desperate gaze was what made you break. You whispered a soft confirmation and it was all it took before he quickly put his mouth on your core, licking vigorously, devouring you like the most delicious thing on the planet.

“Mmmm.” You heard him humming, before your own cries, along with the constant tremble of your legs, drowned out any other sound.

He was elated.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

“Mmmh— Yes. Yes. H—holy—” He whimpered at the same time with his thrusts and squeezed your waist harder, moving his hands up and down your back, caressing it affectionately. “You are s-so warm, so beautiful, fuck—” He moaned when you tightened on him. You stiffed a whimper and tried to commit to memory the touch of his strong hands.

He was taking you slowly from behind and the pace was almost unbearable for you. You needed more, and you couldn’t stand how romantic it felt when he was this gentle with you. However, at the same time you didn’t want him to strain himself, you were aware that the slow pace was reasonable due to the injury on his back. The slow pace did surprise you either way, you thought that after so much time apart he would be quick and rough, chasing his pleasure faster than he normally would. Instead, he acted even more passionately than usual.

The slow pace brought you so much pleasure that you couldn’t contain the sounds escaping from your lips. He kept pressing your most sensitive spots, his thrusts slow, deep and precise. His forehead rest on the back of your shoulder, and you could feel his hot, labored breath pressing against your damp skin.

He made you feel so appreciated, and so cared for, and that made you uneasy. More so, with the accompaniment of the things he was constantly saying to you, from the moment you allowed him to touch you today.

“Can you turn around now? Please, my star, I want to see you.” He half-whispered and started kissing your neck, then moving his mouth to every patch of your skin he could reach: your shoulders, back, arms. No place was left unkissed under his relentless lips. You shook your head no, you didn’t want to let this become even more passionate than it already was. You positioned yourself facing the headboard of the bed from the very beginning, and you were adamant to keep your stance up until the end. You feared that your eyes would betray you, displaying your feelings for him and that was what made you not lose your composure.

Upon hearing your refusal for the third time this night, he proceeded to voice his frustrations by grunting, and thrust into you a little harder. You moaned loudly, surprised at the sudden change of tempo.

“Please, starlight.” He begged, his voice achingly earnest. He picked up the pace and you almost choked with how deep he reached inside of you now. You thought that you could never get used to how big he was, his girth filling you up to the brim. “Turn around. T-turn around for me.”

“X-xavier slow down, I don’t want you to get hurt—” You managed to choke out, grasping sheets with your hands for some kind of stability. You closed your eyes when they were turning upwards, biting your lip in the process. He felt otherworldly, but you couldn’t help but think about the gash on his back. He shouldn’t strain himself.

“Then turn around and look at me.” He repeated and you shook your head again.

“I-I can’t, I—Ah—”

“W-why do you keep—Mmh—denying me?” His voice came out like a growl and he kept up the fast tempo. Then, he grabbed your shoulder and put his other hand on your lower back, making you bend over more. His thrusts got even faster, making you moan louder. “Like that. Yes.” You breathed quietly. So good. He was so, so good. “I just want to see your face. I need to kiss y—A—Ah—Kiss you so bad, so, so, so bad.” He thrusted more deeply, making you involuntarily back out from the stimulation, your body almost collapsing, but he quickly grabbed you with his strong arms, and brought you even closer to him. You saw stars and touched one of the arms that held your whole body — from your waist, between your breasts, to your neck. His arm was so hard, so strong. He was huge compared to you. “No, n-no, don’t run away, star. You feel so good—G-God how I missed this—” He held you closer by the second, pressing more kisses to your shoulders, his thrusts becoming quicker, less deep. You were holding back your tears from how good he felt inside you. “I missed you. I missed you. I miss you.” He started babbling and that’s how you knew he was close.

To your surprise, he suddenly pulled out of you completely and grabbed you by your shoulders, turning you around to finally face him. Before you could show any signs of protest, he lowered himself onto his forearms, caging your head between his biceps so that he could have a perfect view of your face. He took his cock in one of his hands and he slipped himself into you again with ease. You shuddered and cried out softly with astonishment.

“Xavier—!”

“Yes. Yes, that’s my name.” He started thrusting into you again, this time much slower and more attentive, and looked deep into your eyes. You had nowhere to run, the only thing you could do was to close your eyes, but the sight of him so close made you want to never look away. “Say it one more time. Just once.” He looked ethereal, his silver hair wet from the perspiration that gathered oh his forehead, and his cheeks painted a pretty shade of red. You could see how blissful he felt. “So p-pretty.” He finally kissed your lips softly. “So sweet.” He licked into your mouth, deepening the kiss. It made your toes curl, you loved when he kissed you this sloppily. When he released your already swollen lips, there was a string of saliva connecting you. It was all so intense.

“Why were you denying my kisses?” He kissed you again deeply, sucking on your tongue. His slow thrusts made you go insane. “You don’t like kissing me like this?” He sucked on your lips until they were red and swollen. There was so much saliva. He licked them and kissed them again. “I could come from this feeling alone. So soft.” You were shocked at how much he talked. Was he always this talkative? Or were you realizing it only now, when you knew that the closeness with him would soon come to an end?

“Am I making you feel good? Yeah?” You decided to nod at him truthfully, your moans short, resembling small hiccups. You were lost in the pleasure, you could feel the end approaching. He put his forehead against yours, breathing heavily. “W—wow, you—you sound so adorable, I won’t last long—” He moaned and grabbed your face in his hands, kissing your nose first, then softly your lips.

“Yes, yeah, let go. Let go my little star. My starlight, my treasure.” He whispered into your ear, feeling you clench down on him as you came with his name on your lips. You felt him reaching the end quickly after you, he shuddered, his mouth opened, and he released into the condom with a low moan. Still cumming, he took your face into his hands and kissed your forehead gently. When you both were still coming down from the high, breathing heavily, he began stroking your hair, pushing it out of your face, and kissing your cheeks.

What in the world was all that?

God, you couldn’t do this anymore. You couldn’t let this keep up, it felt too real, too romantic, and your heart really couldn’t take it. Not when every time you were together like this you keep thinking that he would like you to be someone else instead. Did he imagined her under him this time? You trembled, scared because of that thought, but the things he was saying made you feel that it really could be the case.

Your breath came out shakily and you took his muscular forearms in your palms and grazed them gently with your thumbs. You let yourself feel for the last time how warm his body was, how pleasurable his weight on top of you. You kept your eyes closed to not let him see your tears, but you couldn’t stop one from going down your cheek.

And of course he saw it as soon as it appeared. He seemed to always look at you when you wanted him to ignore you the most.

He kissed it off, swiped the wetness with his thumb and proceeded to kiss your temple.

“Why are you crying?” He asked softly, his eyebrows furrowed. “Did I hurt you?” He appeared so concerned, and you felt the shivers going down your spine.

Yes, you wanted to scream.

“No, of course not.” You said instead. Because it was your fault for feeling too much. “I’m okay, just tired.” You lied straight to his face. He send you a small smile and kissed your closed eyelids gently.

And when he shifted and pulled out from you slowly with a little hiss, you let out a sigh and knew that your time with him had to end now.

But before you could lift yourself up, he hugged you from the side and put his head on your chest. He was listening to the sound of your heartbeat, and you already knew that it had a soothing effect on him. His hand started caressing one side of your waist, his hair touching your chin, his scent overlapping you. You could feel his heartbeat on you, fast but steady. Another tear escaped from your eyes. You had to run away. You couldn’t take the closeness anymore. It was too painful.

“Xavier, I—” You swallowed the sob forming in your throat. Your voice came out rusty. “I really need to go.”

“Already? Stay with me for a little while longer.” He squeezed you harder to himself, showing no intention of releasing you from his hold. You hated that you needed to cut short such a vulnerable moment with him. “The night is still young. I thought we could maybe watch something together? Or bake these cinnamon cookies you like? I practiced, they taste and look almost perfect now.” You closed your eyes hard, moved by his thoughtfulness, and you almost sobbed audibly if it wasn’t for your hand quickly covering your mouth.

But he felt it, and it made all the muscles in his body tighten, as if he was struck.

“Star?” He loosed his hold on you and quickly studied your face. “What’s wrong?” His eyes became huge, filled with worry. And that concern on his features was what finally made you run.

You raised gently and pushed yourself from him, starting to pick up your scattered pieces of clothing. Your hands shakily put the panties and your sweater on your trembling body, not once looking Xavier’s way. He was waiting patiently for your answer.

“I can’t do this anymore, Xavier.” You replied, feeling more comfortable now that you had some clothes on. You couldn’t meet his eyes, but you heard him standing up from the bed.

“Do what?” He sounded puzzled. You heard him grabbing and putting on some pants hastily, clicking his belt in place. As if he was preparing to run after you. “Did I do something wrong? You didn’t like it today? Was I too intense?” You had never heard him speak so quickly, and the panic in his tone was a rare occurrence too.

“No, it’s— I am at fault here.” You answered truthfully, and you took a couple steps away from him. You wanted to run as fast as you could but for the love of God, you couldn’t locate any other pieces of your clothing. Your eyesight was clouded by unleashed tears. No, not now, you couldn’t let them fall until you were in the safety of your home.

“But you were perfect.” His voice carried more panic by the second. “We could change some things. You could tell me what to do differently, everything works with me as long as I do it with you.”

You suddenly remembered the beginning of your night, and rushed to his living room, were you finally found your pants.

“No. No, and please stop trying to persuade me. This—this friends with benefits thing, it ends now.” You uttered surely, now fully clothed. You turned around and finally laid your eyes on him, and saw him wearing only black jeans and a miserable expression on his face. God, he still looked perfect. He almost shined, the workout clearly visible on his face, his hair, his lips. Your resolution almost wavered.

“Okay. Okay, of course, I—I understand.” He answered quickly, and you felt a slight pang in your chest at how easily he took the news. This whole time you were so easily disposable. “But please stay. I want to spend some time with you, I haven’t seen you in such a long time.” He took a careful step towards you, and you wanted to bolt then and there. “Please, stay.”

“No, Xai, I—” You paused to take a breath, trying not to crumble in front of him. His worried expression felt like a knife to your chest. You were his best friend, yet here you were, clearly wanting to run away from him—how could you expect him to feel anything but hurt upon such a sight? You felt incredibly cruel. “I really can’t. I think I need a break from all—all of this.”

“You mean from me?” He didn’t wait for your answer, the thoughts in his head seemed to go quicker than lightning. “No, please, I swear that if you don’t like it then I won’t touch you anymore. I swear.” You hated how upset he sounded. You closed your eyes for a second and fresh tears slipped away. You couldn’t keep them from falling anymore. “You know how much you mean to me. Don’t make me stay away.” He looked as if you were tearing his heart out, his posture slumped, hands shaking. How you wished you could take them into your own and warm them up.

“I have to.” Your voice came out whiny. He stepped closer to you, keeping his arms in front of himself.

“But why?” His question was quiet, nearly a whisper. He couldn’t help but wonder, if you really wanted a break from him, then why were you crying as if you didn’t want to go?

“I—” You stopped yourself before going as far as to utter a confession. He couldn’t know. Not now. Not ever. “This— This situation, and how our friendship looks like right now it’s—it’s so wrong.” You opted for a response that was the closest to the truth.

“It’s not.” He replied immediately. “Not for me.”

“Well it is for me. Friends don’t sleep with each other, Xavier! We messed up so bad this time and I’m afraid we can’t let this past us.”

“Do you regret it that much?” His voice was losing its’ strength, and he seemed so utterly hurt. Meanwhile, you were just trying to protect yourself from feeling even more pain. How could you make him understand without confessing to him? You didn’t really know because you were always honest with him before. He was your safe place.

And to think that everything could be avoided, your friendship left unscratched if only you could control your feelings better. But you had no idea how to stop loving him so deeply, when he was everything that you’ve ever dreamed of.

“I should. I know that I should, it was never going to end well, I—”

“Stay. Please, starlight, stay. At least for one more night, let me hold you just for one more—” His arms went out to grab you and you flinched, taking a few steps back. His jaw tightened.

He was always afraid that he will see you run away from his touch. He felt as if his nightmare became reality - the thought of loosing you too much for him to bear.

“Xavier, I can’t!” You trembled all over. Why did he make this so hard for you? “I can’t do this with you anymore, can’t you understand how much it hurts me?” The truth was at the tip of your tongue, craving to be spoken out loud.

“Why? Why does it hurt you? The only one who has a good reason to be hurt is me, you avoided me, ignored me, and for what? If you just talked to me honestly one time—”

“You are in love with someone else!”

The silence that followed was unbearable and seemed to last ages. Slow ticking of the clock was the only thing cutting through the tension, reminding you that the time didn’t stop, even if your heart seemed to do so.

You turned to him, the tears falling from your eyes in cascades now and your chest was coming up and down rapidly with how fast you were breathing.

The tears run down your cheeks quickly, making your vision less blurry. How you wished that they stayed in place, if that meant that you wouldn’t have to see Xavier’s pained expression, that quickly changed into one of utter confusion. You were shaking with how much you were feeling, your frustration pooling out of you in a form of shaking hands and bitten lips.

“I can’t continue being like this with you when I know that you’re in love with her! And I get it! I really do. She’s so wonderful, and so, so lovable. And I could never be her, no matter how much you would want me to be. I just don’t want to be a replacement anymore.” You continued, the desperation in your voice almost making you wince. You sounded pathetic and felt so embarrassed for it. You felt as if you were loosing the ground beneath your feet.

“What?” He said completely stunned. He wasn’t moving a single muscle. “What on earth are you talking about?” He hissed, and took a step towards you, and when you shook your head and wanted to bolt through the door, he quickly grabbed you by your wrist and pressed your body close to his. You gasped at the contact, so sudden and forced. “No, stop running away from me!” He raised his voice, still holding your wrist tightly. You’ve never heard him sound so irritated. “Speak.” You kept your head low, when he was desperately trying to catch eye contact, but you couldn’t look at him right now. Not when your true feelings were basically flowing to the surface.

“About what? You really thought I didn’t know about your feelings for her?” You struggled to keep your voice from shaking. “Xavier, I know, and I knew from the very beginning, and you really don’t have to explain yourself to me. I really understand.” You tried to free your wrist from his grasp, but he held it too tightly. You needed to run, this conversation wasn’t supposed to happen, you didn’t even have a reason to be mad at him. You couldn’t blame him for not loving you romantically, nor for feeling this way towards someone else. You were only friends, and friends should be happy for each other when they find someone dear to them, not sick of the idea of loosing the other to someone else.

“I’m afraid you actually don’t understand anything.” He sounded almost defeated. His voice back to it’s soft tone, but his hold on you unrelenting.

“It’s really okay, I—”

“No.” He scoffed. You finally gained enough courage to let your eyes meet his and you were instantly appalled at how furious he appeared to be. “It’s truly NOT.” He released your wrist and put his hands up to stroke his hair back. He breathed out loudly. “Who the fuck are you talking about?” He asked, confusion and irritation taking over his features completely. You never saw him wear that expression while talking with you.

“Oh, don’t make me—” You cut off, seeing his furious glare. You took a deep breath, stepped back from him and touched your cheek, trying to swipe the wetness caused by your tears. You failed, they were still coming down, one by one, making your efforts futile. “MC. You know that I mean MC.”

“You have to be fucking kidding me.” He groaned and let his head fall back. He covered his face with his hands for a second, and when he looked at you again, you couldn’t read his expression correctly. “Who told you about it? Where did you get it from?”

“Jeremiah.” That’s all he needed to know. And apparently it was enough for him to grasp the situation. He laughed humorlessly and shook his head, his hands squeezed tightly into fists by his sides.

“I will strangle him this time. I swear, I will—”

“Oh, please, Xavier, stop! What’s so wrong about me knowing? I was glad that someone finally enlightened me!” You couldn’t believe that he was so angry at you for knowing such an important thing. Not when from the moment Jeremiah said that he had a thing for MC for a long time, you wondered why he kept that a secret from you. “You never even said a word about it even though I thought we were best friends. I had to learn from someone else and that already hurt.” You wanted this conversation to be over. You wanted him to admit to it already and let you go away, with a broken, but at least free heart.

But he had different plans.

“Have you maybe thought that I never said a word about it simply because it wasn’t true?” He asked carefully, his voice still angry. “I just can’t believe you thought that I loved someone else—”

“What?” Your mind went blank. You needed a moment to collect your thoughts. “What do you mean it’s not true?” You sniffed quietly, confusion taking over your face.“B-But Jeremiah said that you had a past with her and—”

“I did. I had feelings for her once, but that was literal lifetimes ago!” His irritation didn’t ease in the slightest. “I had feelings for someone who looked similar to her. But she’s not the same person anymore, and even if she was I couldn’t possibly fall in love with her. Not now, not ever.” You stopped in your tracks, trying to analyze everything he was saying to you and failing miserably at it. You looked at his face, your expression puzzled, searching for an answer there, hidden between his beautiful, soft features. It shocked you to see that now he started to calm himself down, gaze genuine, an image of complete transparency.

You couldn’t wrap your head around the idea that you were mistaken. All this time, when you thought you never stood a chance, when you thought that he loved another, when you wanted to let him go—

“You’re not in love with MC.” It wasn’t a question anymore, your voice quiet while you were trying to process that thought. He must’ve seen how you fought with the thoughts inside your head, because he released a groan and took a step towards you. You unintentionally took one step back. He frowned.

“Of course I’m not.” Voice sweet like honey, stance sure, his eyes searched desperately for yours. He looked at your face, covered in tears and his eyebrows furrowed deeper, hating how upset you seemed and didn’t know how to reverse it. “How could I ever be, when your face is all I can see, every time I close my eyes?” He uttered looking at you with such devotion that it almost made your knees buckle.

Complete silence took over your thoughts after his confession. You didn’t know what was happening.

But fortunately, his mind finally started to piece everything together in a picture, that although was beyond frustrating to think about, was giving him so much hope for something he thought he already lost.

He allowed himself to relax, took a deep breath and finally decided to drop his inner shackles, letting his emotions flow out of him without restraint.

“You are the one that I love.” He said clearly, not moving a muscle. He wondered if you could see the quick movement of his chest, with how hard his heart was trying to escape through it to reach you. Whereas, you felt as if yours stopped moving completely, along with the time around you, not ready to believe that this was truly happening. “It was you from the very beginning. I adored you since the day I first saw you.” He continued, his gaze piercing into your face, slight confusion visible on his features. “And I thought that was obvious? I wasn’t exactly the best at hiding my feelings, especially after I told you about them the first night we spend together.”

You blinked slowly. Once, then twice.

Your head hurt. You couldn’t wrap it around everything he was saying. Xavier was in love with you? And he already told you about it? You were so confused that the only way you knew how to react was with denial.

“You—You didn’t. I didn’t know, you are not being serious.” He shook his head in disbelief.

“I did. You really don’t remember?” His tone softened, and he waited a short second for your answer, but couldn’t contain his nerves. “It was the night I kissed you for the first time, thinking that would be the last. But you reciprocated.” His eyes gleamed in the moonlight, and you found yourself holding your breath, afraid even the slightest sound might interrupt the flow of his confession.

“You—You kissed me back, and let me do things to you I only ever dared to dream about before.” He took another step your way, a small smile grazing his handsome face. “And the confession slipped out of me so naturally before we even reached the bed.” He briefly recalled that fateful night, describing the conversations you forgot, but longed to remember since that very moment.

“You didn’t reply, but you responded nicely to my touch, so I thought that meant that you wanted me too, that maybe you’d accept me. As your beloved. Your soulmate.” You brought your hand to cover your mouth. You couldn’t believe it. “But then in the morning when you woke up, you were panicking. I tried to reassure you, but you weren’t listening to me.”

That part of the story you knew by heart, him telling you that he couldn’t forget, didn’t want to forget. Back then you didn’t connect it with anything close to confession, but more with the change in your relationship. You really didn’t want to jump to any conclusions, you didn’t even dream about him loving you, when you though that he loved MC. Insecurities and false assumptions completely clouded your vision.

“And when you proposed staying friends, with the bonus of intimacy, of course I took the chance. I thought you remembered my confession and didn’t reciprocate my feelings, but I was so desperate that I would take anything you were willing to give me, even if it didn’t involve your love. I—” he cut off, blush flushed over his cheeks, up to the tips of his ears. He took a shaky breath. “I was clinging to the hope that maybe through the new shared intimacy I could show you how much you meant to me. And maybe, maybe someday you would start feeling the same, when you realized how good we are together and how good I can be for you.”

“Xavier—Oh my god.” You breathed, your hand still covering your mouth, your eyes never leaving his face. His beautiful, starstruck face, now so full of confusion and unspoken hurt. “Bunny, I’m so, so, so sorry. I had no idea, I—” Your voice practically a whisper, you were still coming to terms with the fact that your feelings were reciprocated. And that you were the one who complicated things between you. “I don’t remember anything you said to me that night. I couldn’t even hear you through the sound of my own blood thrumming in my ears, that’s how drunk I felt. How overwhelmed after our first kiss.”

The alcohol consumed that night also wasn’t of big help. You were a lightweight and you drunk only occasionally, so the few drinks you had already made you feel dizzy. Mixed with the intensity of your emotions, it overwhelmed you so intensely that his touch was all you could remember from that night. But now you could make it all alright.

“I only remember your touch, the things we did, and our conversation the next morning. I remember touching your hand and initiating the kiss, and my tipsy brain just thought that you went with it to forget about MC.” You said truthfully, letting it all pour out of you. Your cheeks burned with the embarrassment of admitting how desperate you were for him, that the thought he loved another didn’t stop you from having sex with him.

Then the blush deepened from the realization that from the very beginning the only one he was thinking about was you.

This thought made your head spin, the happiness slowly bubbling in your chest. Your whole body trembled.

“That’s— Fuck. You really don’t remember.” He shook his head again, realizing how deep the misunderstanding reached. “You didn’t initiate anything. I was the one who kissed you first.”

“No, I—”

“Yes. You touched my hand, smiled at me contentedly and said some things and I—I just couldn’t restrain myself any longer.” This time you were the one who started approaching him slowly. You needed him close. Always. And you realized that now you didn’t have any reasons to deny yourself that lack of distance. “You looked so soft, so open and kissable, and I just went for it. And then you reciprocated.” The light in his eyes started sparkling when he noticed that you were finally coming closer to him. He reached out his hand for you and you took it gently, still shaking from the unspoken emotions.

“I can’t believe it. All this time I thought that you were in love with someone else.” His hand was warm, the touch electrifying. You squeezed his hand and intertwined your fingers together. You saw how between your clasped hands, his Evol started shining brightly, shading soft light upon your features. It was a sign that he was excited. “I tried to put a distance between us, end this intimacy because I thought that I was just a second best for you. An easy distraction.”

“How could you think that? Almost from the moment I met you, I have loved you passionately—” He brought you even closer together, pulling you by your intertwined hands, and put his other hand on your cheek. He swiped the reminder of your tears with his fingers, looking into your eyes with a devotion so apparent that it took your ability to form coherent thoughts. How did you manage to miss the way he was always looking your way?

“X-Xavier.”

“I couldn’t even think about anyone else even if I tried to. You occupy my every thought. How could I ever find a place for somebody else in my heart when you fill the space out completely?” Everything that came out of his mouth was laced with impatience. He was trying so hard to make you understand him, and the intensity of his emotions. He couldn’t psychically hold it inside anymore, he restrained himself for so long that he felt as if all of his walls finally crumbled. He needed you to know everything.

“I love you, starlight. I’m so in love with you that I couldn’t contain that feeling inside anymore. I couldn’t even spend five minutes in your presence without trying to touch you, to kiss you, to hold you. My whole body longs for you constantly.” He said, thinking off the months after you started being friends with benefits. How at first he wasn’t sure how much he could take from you, and then, when he noticed that you didn’t mind the affection outside the bedroom, he couldn’t contain himself. He kissed you every time he had a chance, he touched you everywhere he could, he was trying to stay away from you as little as possible. Despite thinking that you did not reciprocate his feelings fully, his love for you flowed out of him naturally, every look and every touch laced with unconditional devotion.

During the period of your silence and avoiding him, he thought that it was because he finally crossed a line. He let his feelings out too much, he finally made you uncomfortable. He was starting to act as you lover, not as your friend and it wasn’t what you agreed to. He thought you still didn’t love him and maybe that was a sign that you never will. And even if that could be the case, he still couldn’t let you go.

And it appeared that he didn’t have to.

That you were not uncomfortable, but unsure.

That it was all a huge misunderstanding.

And the words that came out of your pretty, little mouth next, almost brought him to his knees.

“Xavier. Xavier me too, I—” You stuttered, completely overwhelmed by how much you were feeling. You squeezed his wrists, and looked deep into his beautiful, hopeful eyes. “I love you too. And I fell in love with you long before our first night together. I just thought that it was wishful thinking, because your heart was already taken by someone else. And that I could just stay beside you as your friend and that would be enough. And then share your bed from time to time, if that meant that I could hold you close, be on the receiving end of your affection.” You said and raised on your feet to place a quick kiss on his lips. He chased after you instantly, despite appearing stunned. You noticed his hands were shaking.

“You really mean it?” He asked, leaning towards you, kissing your lips again, this time for longer. He had trouble keeping his mouth away from yours, especially now, that he knew that every one of your kisses was filled with love. “Am I not dreaming this time?” You smiled and stroked his hair affectionately, petting his head, wanting to convey your feelings in every way possible.

“Xavier, I love you.” You repeated, grabbing his head in your palms and looking deep into his eyes. Your voice was strong, leaving no room for uncertainty. “I love you so mu—” He didn’t let you finish that sentence, because he quickly picked you up and spun you around, holding you in his arms. You giggled and put your arms around his neck, holding him tightly, his face buried in your neck. When he stopped, he quickly found your lips again and that kiss felt groundbreaking.

He held you close to him, one hand squeezing you by your waist, and the other holding your jaw gently. His brows furrowed in desperation and his kisses were slow, sensual, sending pleasant shocks throughout your whole body. His tongue made an appearance, and he tasted you in a way that made your legs feel like jelly. He licked into your mouth, grunting lowly, his fingers placing a strand of your hair behind your ear, then tracing patterns on your warm cheek. When you opened your eyes for a second, you could see that the tips of his ears were red. The blush spread through his cheeks too, making him look so adorable.

“It does feel like a dream.” He breathed between kisses. “And sounds too good to be true.” He captured your lips again and you smiled into his mouth. Your heart was about to burst.

“I love you.” You repeated, basking in the feeling of finally being able to say it out loud, be open with your emotions. He released your lips and kissed your forehead. You looked up, and he placed his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, a wide smile adorning his face.

“Don’t stop saying that. You make me so happy.” He said quietly, and you whispered the confession once again, making him sigh shakily.

“I was so stupid. I should’ve asked you right from the start if what Jeremiah said was true.” You said and hugged him more tightly. “I should’ve told you sooner.” You placed your head on his strong chest, your ear touching his bare body, listening to his fast heartbeat. Your hands were hugging his waist, mindful not to touch his bandaged back.

“No, I foolishly thought that telling you once would suffice. I forgot that you drank that night and that could’ve clouded your memory.” He squeezed you harder to himself and started back away with you in his arms, until the back of his legs touched his couch. He feel into it, holding you close, making you sit on his lap. “To think that I could have you sooner—” He looked into your eyes, as if searching for something.

“You had me before, and you have me now. My heart, my body, my soul.” You positioned yourself more comfortably, placing your legs on both sides of his waist, and took his face into your hands. He closed his eyes at the contact, and started to caress your body, from your waist, down to your legs. He squeezed the plush of your tights and let his head fall against the couch pillows.

He couldn’t believe that this was happening. He prayed that this wasn’t a dream, that all of the things your were telling him were true. His chest vibrated pleasurably, incredible warmth spreading through it. His heart beat so quickly, and so loudly that he thought it was the first time he felt its’ beat so intensely himself. Your words made him feel drunk with emotion.

He opened his eyes to look at your face.

He almost choked with how beautiful you were. How divine, sitting on him, caressing his shoulders, smiling at him with the stars in your eyes. He looked at your lips, full and swollen, bearing the signs of his kisses. He looked at your neck, delicate and unmarked, and he stroked it with the back of his hand, wanting to change that fact immediately, knowing that now he was allowed to do that. He switched his gaze to your eyes again and drank them in, basking in their light, wishing that this moment could never end. Or maybe it should, so it could become your new beginning.

You were his treasure. His star, his light, guiding him through life, making his existence worth pursuing. You showed him that the world can be beautiful, despite it’s overbearing cruelty. You were his salvation, his safe place, his one and only, showing him every single day that he mattered, that he was not a lost cause, or a villain in disguise. You taught him that he was capable of loving so intensely and now, that he was loved as passionately in return.

He doubted his worth, but the only way he knew to prove his love for you was by protecting you with his very life. You had no idea, but his sword, now a symbol of your bond, was yours to command—and you were the only reason he continued to wield it.

“What are you thinking about?” Your voice was not more than a whisper, your eyes still looking into his starry ones, losing yourself in the deep blue. You loved them, how magnificent and expressive they were, and you swore to yourself to tell him about it every day.

He seemed to get out of the trace he was in, and his eyes softened, still taking you in. He smiled and took your hands into his, and kissed your knuckles, his kisses gentle and long-lasting.

“You.” He replied shortly, his voice gentle and reassuring. He put your hands on his shoulders, making you hug his neck with them. You complied and put your whole arms around his neck, bringing your bodies closer. One of his hands touched your waist, caressing it delicately, and the other one stroked your hair, admiring its’ softness. His eyes never left yours. “Always you, my starlight. Then, now, and till the end of my days. I will always carry you in my mind, and in my heart, to be able to reach you, no matter the distance.” You could feel his breath on your face with how close you were to each other, and he gazed at your open lips, which were already waiting to be kissed senselessly. “I love you, as I never loved anyone else in my life, and I never will again.” His lips captured yours in a kiss so soft, yet so desperate, and full of adoration, that you felt a single, happy tear escape from your eye. He deepened the kiss and held you throughout the night, kissing you and touching you, never wanting the moment to end, the warmth of your skin to become a memory.

It all started with the simplest of touches, and it never truly ended. The spark you ignited that first night has never faded. Since the moment you met, it has burned brightly between you both, a light so powerful that it could be seen across the vastness of deep space. Everlasting and exquisite, just like the different lifetimes you both had ahead of you, always finding each other, as if guided by it’s warmth.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

thank you for your time and please let me know if you liked it!! i was thinking of writing more for this au, maybe from xavier’s perspective? how they met and how he fell in love + how their first night really played out ♡

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flowersforbucky · 2 months ago

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starry eyed

bucky barnes x reader

word count: 3.2k

summary: reader gets a special gift from her secret santa

warnings/tags: mostly just fluff, mutual pining, friends to lovers, avenger!reader, no use of y/n, one minor injury, language, kissing and some sensuality

author's note: short little feel good christmas fic! everyone is alive and happy because i say so. i originally got the idea for this fic last winter, but i hadn't got back into writing at that time. happy that i was able to put it into words finally.

my masterlist

“So, whose name did you draw?”

You shove your hand into an oven mitt, grabbing a large dish out of the oven. Everyone had been assigned to bring a different breakfast food to the Christmas morning potluck.

Sam brought chocolate chip pancakes, Steve brought a shit ton of sausage links, and Sharon brought a giant fruit platter to name a few. You figured that the easiest, cheapest way to help feed a group of a dozen people is a couple tubes of Pillsbury cinnamon rolls.

“That kinda takes the secret out of Secret Santa.”

Bucky leans on the island in the middle of the compound’s kitchen, drinking his second cup of coffee of the morning. His breakfast dish of choice? A sack of two dozen McDonald’s hash browns.

“I was just testing you,” Bucky jokes. “You passed. Do you want to know who got your name?”

“No!” You whack his stomach with the oven mitt and he feigns injury. “I do not. Have I passed all of your tests?”

“I’m proud,” Bucky says after a big gulp of coffee. “You’re stronger than Sam, at least. He’s been asking everyone who drew his name for the last week.”

You roll your eyes. “He does that every year and no one ever tells him.”

Your friends begin filing into the kitchen, everyone grabbing plates and piling them high with all of the food scattered across the island. After making your plate, you retreat to the living room and nestle yourself between Natasha and Sharon on the couch.

Everyone is so occupied with stuffing their faces that there’s hardly any conversation. You halfway pay attention to the Hallmark Christmas rom-com playing on the television as you devour a stack of pancakes and hash browns.

Truthfully, you had hoped to draw Bucky’s name from the hat. You had a gift in mind for him already, and if you’d gotten his name then it would have presented you with the perfect opportunity to give it to him without any pressure for him to give you a gift in return.

You ended up drawing Sharon's name, but you decided to get the present for Bucky, anyway – a vintage tabletop phonograph from the forties that you’d snagged for an incredible deal on eBay. You didn’t put it under the gargantuan Christmas tree with all of the other gifts. It sits in your bedroom, waiting for you to give it to him later today when you’re not surrounded by all of your close friends.

To no one’s surprise, Sam and Peter are the first people to finish eating and immediately begin handing out all of the presents under the tree. You’re still finishing up your breakfast when Peter practically throws a small box wrapped in snowmen print paper towards you.

It's addressed to you, from your Secret Santa. Right off the bat, you’re sure that the gift didn’t come from Natasha – you know how much pride that she puts into gift wrapping. Not that this gift is wrapped poorly, but compared to Natasha’s typically extravagant bows, you’re confident that she wasn't the one who wrapped this present.

You also notice that the handwriting appears to be more on the masculine side. It looks familiar, though you can’t say with confidence who it belongs to.

“Alright, who wants to go first?” Sam says loudly enough to quiet all the chatter going on. “No one would spoil my gift for me and I’m getting impatient.”

You and Bucky share a knowing glance and eye roll at his words. He sits in a recliner directly across from you, holding the gift from his own Secret Santa.

“I’ll go first,” you offer excitedly, giving the box in your lap a small shake that gives nothing away.

You carelessly tear at the wrapping paper until it’s in pieces by your feet on the floor.

“What’d you get?” Sam asks.

You don’t respond at first, taking in the packaging of the box.

A northern lights projector.

You feel warmth spread across your cheeks and you can’t help but smile down at the gift in your hands, no longer having any doubt about who this gift came from.

One Month Ago

“These Spaghettios expired a couple weeks ago. Do you think we should risk it?”

You stand in the small kitchen of the Alaskan safe house, rifling through the limited options in the pantry. Some instant oatmeal packets, a few cans of Beanee Weenees, and the aforementioned expired Spaghettios are tonight’s dinner choices.

You can’t say you’re surprised – you’ve been doing this job for a while, and poorly stocked safe houses are pretty much the standard in this line of work. It doesn't help that this is the fifth night that you and Bucky have spent in this particular safe house, and you've eaten through all of the better options at this point.

“If you want to risk getting food poisoning in addition to that sprained ankle, then you go for it. I'll be sticking to the oatmeal.” Bucky reaches around you, grabbing a packet of maple and brown sugar oatmeal from the shelf that you stand in front of.

He's right. The oatmeal is the safest option.

One more night of this, you remind yourself. Tomorrow night, you'd be back in the comfort of your room, where you can DoorDash Chinese food.

You sigh, grabbing the remaining packet of oatmeal.

“You know, I wouldn't even mind the food situation nearly as much if I could just see the lights. Five nights here and nothing,” you grumble.

It’s your first time in Alaska, and you had high hopes for being able to see the northern lights. Each night so far, after long days of recon, you’ve stayed up past the point of exhaustion checking to see if they’re visible.

So far, the weather had been nothing but rainy and dreary, making the sky close to impossible to see at night. The clouds finally let up some today, but you've still seen no hint of an aurora. Just inky blackness, a crescent moon, and a steady downpour of snow that began a few hours ago.

“You could always get one of those projectors,” he teases with a shrug. “Northern lights, galaxies, constellations… all right there on your bedroom ceiling.”

Even though he won’t say it, you know he wants to see the northern lights as badly as you do. He's made it obvious by the way he glances out the window every so often to check.

You’ve been hoping that they’d make an appearance for him as much as for yourself. He's technically seen them before – decades ago. But never as himself. Never as Bucky.

“Those are neat,” you agree glumly. “I've just always wanted to see them in person. Kinda a bucket list thing.”

Getting to witness them with him would be the cherry on top, but you don’t add that part.

Bucky insists that you sit down on the couch and ice your ankle while he prepares the instant oatmeal for the two of you. You’re too tired to protest, so you retreat to the sofa and flip through the limited number of channels on the old TV with your foot propped up.

Fucking black ice. The last day of this mission and everything had gone swimmingly up until you slipped on a patch of clear ice earlier today, twisting your ankle.

You’re just thankful that it happened in front of Bucky, and not Sam. You can only imagine the teasing that would have ensued if it had been Sam that saw you eat shit.

The two of you eat by the warmth of the dwindling fire while watching a Seinfeld re-run.

You’re over three thousand miles from New York, but it doesn’t feel like you’re far from home at all. Bucky and you have been mission partners for quite some time now, and he has a way of making you feel like you’re at home, no matter where you’re actually at. His presence is familiar and comforting – whether you’re at the compound, or in a different country, or in Alaska – the familiarity and comfort of home is there, as long as he is.

“I’m gonna go get some more wood for the fire before bed,” Bucky says when he finishes scarfing down his food. You give him a quick nod, your mouth still crammed full of oatmeal. “You stay here and try not to sprain anything else,” he teases with a glance at your foot that’s elevated on the coffee table in front of you.

You shoot him an obscene gesture once his back is to you. “You act like my leg got cut off,” you grumble as he exits the house.

No more than ten seconds pass before you hear him call your name from beyond the front door. You look over your shoulder with wide eyes and he all but sprints back into the house with an animated expression.

“What? What is it?”

“The lights. They’re visible,” he exclaims. He walks over to the couch, taking your bowl from you and sitting it on the end table next to you before you can process what’s happening. He offers his flesh hand to you in an attempt to help you up.

“Holy shit, really? You better not be messing with me.” You push yourself up off the couch, momentarily forgetting all about your ankle.

“I’m not messing with you,” he snorts. “Come see for yourself.”

Bucky wraps his arm around your waist and you throw yours over his shoulder, helping you walk to the porch without putting too much pressure on your injured foot. You lean into him, his body heat providing a nice reprieve from the night air as you step outside.

You don’t pull away, and neither does he.

Side by side, you stare up at the seemingly endless expanse of swirling rivers of blue and green. The auroral rays seem to dance across the sky, electrifying the night with the shimmering veils of color.

“Wow,” you whisper in awe. Wow doesn’t begin to cover how ethereal the phenomenon is, but you’re at a loss for words. It’s one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen.

You're acutely aware of the bitter chill of the cold wind. If it weren't for the fact that Bucky feels like a personal space heater, your teeth would be chattering. But with the view before you, you find it hard to care.

“I’d give anything to be able to see this where we live,” you breathe. You glance up at him to find him already looking at you.

“Wouldn't you?” You ask him.

“I really would.”

Present Day

“Oooh,” Natasha coos beside you, snapping you out of your memory. “A northern lights projector. I wonder who that could be from.”

You can tell by her tone of voice that she knows exactly who it’s from – even if you hadn't blatantly told her about seeing the northern lights on your mission with Bucky last month, she's too smart to not be able to figure it out herself.

You playfully elbow her in the side, silencing her teasing but the smirk on her face remains.

“Thank you, Santa,” you say with a glance at Bucky. “I love it.”

The rest of your friends open their presents one by one. You try your hardest to pay attention, but all you can think about is how perfect you think the gift that Bucky picked out for you is. He could have just given you a gift card, or a generic gag gift, but what he gave you is personal, and sentimental, and thoughtful.

When all of the Christmas morning festivities have come to an end, you retreat back to your bedroom with your presents. Despite getting many great gifts from your friends, the one from your Secret Santa is by far your favorite.

You unbox the projector and set it up on your nightstand before plugging it in. As soon as you press the power button, the ceiling of your room is covered in shades of blue and green that mimic the natural hues of the northern lights that you had witnessed first hand just a month prior.

You flick your light switch off, making it easier to envision yourself standing under the Alaska sky. Of course, there’s nothing like seeing the real thing, but it’s still pretty, and the meaning behind the gift is what makes you happier than anything.

Smiling to yourself beneath the undulating ribbons of turquoise and emerald, you can’t help but replay the memory of standing under the aurora with Bucky.

How he got so excited when he went outside and realized the lights were visible, the contrast of his warm body against the cold night air as he helped you stand on your hurt foot, and the way that he was smiling at you instead of taking in the scene before him –

Your phone chimes from your back pocket, drawing you back to reality.

A projection probably doesn’t really compare to the real thing, huh?

You smile at your phone, sitting down on your bed. You think of how you should respond when you remember the present you bought for Bucky that sits in your closet.

Come and see for yourself, you respond.

With his room being just a short distance down the hallway, it’s only a few moments before you hear a soft knock against your door.

“Come in,” you say softly.

You’re suddenly overcome with a wave of nerves, and you tell yourself it’s because you’re antsy about giving him the present you'd picked out for him.

Bucky eases into the room, closing the door behind him. He takes in the display across your ceiling with his hands shoved in his pockets – a nervous habit of his that you’ve noticed many times before, though you can’t pinpoint why he’d be nervous right now.

“Pretty cool,” he admits. He takes a seat in front of you on the edge of your bed and finally meets your gaze. “Can’t say it quite compares to the real thing, but at least it’s a whole lot warmer here.”

“The food is considerably better here, too,” you joke. “But really, thank you. It’s definitely the best Secret Santa gift I’ve ever received,” you add, cringing when you remember the toilet shaped coffee mug that Sam had gotten you two years ago.

You use it regularly, of course. But you like Bucky’s gift far more.

“And I got you a present, too,” you add in a small voice before you can chicken out. “I know I wasn’t your Secret Santa, so I hope you don’t think it’s weird. It’s okay if you don’t like—”

“Can I tell you something?” He interrupts you. He’s grinning big – the kind of grin that brings out the lines around his eyes. You snap your mouth shut and answer with a quick nod.

“I wasn’t your Secret Santa originally,” he sighs. “Natasha was. But I convinced her to switch names with me.”

“But why—”

“I got your present as soon as we got back from Alaska, but then I started overthinking it… just thought it would be easier to give it to you if I had the excuse of being your Secret Santa,” he shrugs.

You’re momentarily stunned. It dawns on you – he’d been worried about the exact thing you had. You’d been so worried about him being weirded out by you getting him a gift that you waited until you were alone to give it to him, and he’d been so worried about getting you a gift that he convinced someone else to let him have your name in Secret Santa.

How silly of both of you, you think.

He sits by you on your bed, waiting for your response with a patient, albeit uncertain expression. Your eyes flicker from his eyes to his lips.

It had been a fleeting thought when you stared into his eyes under the colorful Alaskan sky – how beautiful it would be to kiss someone under such a serene and mesmerizing sky. How beautiful it would be to kiss him, here. It was a thought that you shoved down, out of fear for crossing a line and making yourself look like an idiot.

It's a thought that is once again at the forefront of your mind, sitting beside him in your bedroom under the imitation aurora.

Under the true northern lights, or under your bedroom ceiling in New York – it doesn’t matter. You think kissing him would be beautiful anywhere.

And so you do.

Or he does – you’re not actually sure who leans forward first. But you are sure that he still tastes faintly of maple syrup and coffee from breakfast, and that when he cups your face in his flesh hand and tilts it to give him a better angle to sweep his tongue along your bottom lip, your brain turns to static white noise.

You let him set the pace – it’s slow and soft, like he’s trying to memorize the map that his tongue draws inside your mouth. You place one of your hands on the back of his neck, intertwining your fingers in the short tufts of hair.

Still holding your face in his hand, he pulls away with a gentle tug of your bottom lip between his teeth and looks at you in the blue-green glow of the projector’s illumination.

“Was that my present?” he smiles, rubbing his thumb across your cheek. You laugh, reeling in the afterglow of the kiss.

You drop your hand from his neck, and hold up a singular finger to him, indicating for him to give you a moment. You walk over to your closet, retrieving the large gift bag containing the phonograph.

When you walk back over to your bed, you turn on your bedside table lamp for a bit more light before handing him the bag.

He smiles, blushing faintly as he pulls the tissue paper out of the gift bag. He eases the package out of the bag slowly, as if he’s scared the contents will break. You watch as he takes his time with the unboxing, now feeling a fresh wave of nervousness at the anticipation of him seeing the gift.

His smile only grows once he realizes what it is.

“My ma used to have one just like this,” he murmurs in awe. He grabs your hand in his and brings it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “Thank you. It's perfect.”

He turns to place it behind him on your mattress before pulling your face to his once more. It’s shorter than the kiss before, but just as tender and sweet.

“But just so you know, you could have just given me a kiss, and I would’ve been just as thrilled.”

••••••

thanks for reading!! i had fun writing this cute little piece ♡

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes one-shot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #christmas fic #fluff #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x fem reader

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vifilms · 2 months ago

Text

KNUCKLE VELVET, TORN ON MY TEETH

❝ VI!ONE SHOT ❞

pairing. pitfighter!vi x bartender!reader

warnings. eighteen+, nsfw content: arcane season two spoilers, soft angst, smut, bartender!reader, crashout!vi mends her cold heart, inexperienced!vi, switch!reader + vi, fem coded reader, coded alcohol addiction, slight spit kink, strap use.

KNUCKLE VELVET TORN ON MY TEETH, there's something charming about the pitfighter who doesn't stop drinking until she reaches the bottom of the barrel and the bartender who keeps walking her home.

wc. 7k+

rayray yaps. popping my vi!oneshot cherry, hehe, and i'm happy to do so. the vi brainrot has been real as fuck lately. i fear it's not going away anytime soon. but i wanted to give a special shoutout to @hypnagogics for proofreading this fic, means sm to me ily + my sweet bubba, @absfawn for the title name, i could kiss you until my lips fall off. the best people ever, i love them so much. okay, now i have yapped enough! happy reading, hope you enjoy.

Trapped in the abyss, just when everything had been taken from her life seems to sacrifice another offering on a silver platter. Something else that she thought could be hers, but wasn’t. In the end, all of it was the same. Life is the same. She takes three steps forward, circumstances out of her control take her apart like enforcers imposing their will on Zaun, and she’s forced to move five steps back. It’s all she feels, powerless.

Wanting nothing more than to drown her sorrows, forget all that she's lost. For everything that’s been taken, Vi feels an overpowering loss, threatening to take over everything she’s trying to build. But Vi thinks of none of it now, she can’t afford to think of one more thing. So, she doesn’t. All of her mind forgets. She forces herself to.

Zaun, Piltover, Jinx, Vander, Silco, and Cait.

She drowns in blood, sweat, and liquor for nights to come. She forgets everything and you are just the cherry top on this one shitty sundae. Anytime she’s here, Vi manages to get herself into a fight. Each time. Every time she tries to apologize or hold an ounce of guilt in her eyes, you see right through her crystal blues. From the very first night, you called her bullshit. Even if Vi didn’t give in, it was hard to hide her small smirk.

She lets herself think it’s because you’re a bartender. You practically get paid to read people, listen to them vent about shit you probably don’t give two shits about and break up the fights that erupt every thirty minutes. Overinflated egos and drunken assholes weren’t a great mix. The jury was still out if you though Vi was one. She could have both, she didn’t really talk much. Vi fought, drank until she couldn’t see straight, and you helped her up to her small apartment right across the street and up the steps into her said apartment.

No matter how hard she tries, it always ends the same. Vi looking like an imbecile and you, the pretty bartender who shuts down every advance she throws your way. Vi wonders who had a stronger shell, what you’re hiding in order to protect yourself.

Maybe she is just an asshole.

“You don’t have to walk me up here. I-I can make it just fine on my own.”

As soon as your fingertips let go of her fragile frame, Vi’s inebriated body collapses on the concrete steps, grabbing onto the metal framing as if her life depends on it.

“Really? Now you wanna prove a point?”

“For your information, I’m always in it to prove a point.”

Even if your words are harsh, with a soft smile and a hand open, Vi takes it as you let her lean on your weight as you assist her up the steps. There’s little shame to be had once the two of you make it in. It isn’t like the first time and when she noticed the scrunch of your nose in taking the smell, tequila and grease. Vi thought it was cute but she halts any further thought.

Quickly, Vi disposed of her leather jacket and pants she’s left in boxers and the wrap protecting her chest. The part of her life that seems to be kept together. She doesn’t really mind it though, you. Seeing her like this. Even more so, she enjoys it. You’re always so dismissive at the bar, hardly holding eye contact, turning down any flirting she hurls your way. Just like the vomit Vi had nearly thrown up on your shoes but made a quick diversion for the bush to the right of her instead.

This is truly the only time she knows you want her. Not so subtly, your eyes trace her like each pinpoint of your gaze is painting her on a clean canvas, one Vi wonders if she’ll like or not. When she’s been around you, she’s been wondering about a lot of things — thoughts she quite literally can’t afford.

It’s her, nothing ever ends well when her feelings can get crushed on the other side.

Everything she touches burns to ash before she can even hold it for a moment, a second of symphony retaliates with years of misery. How could you be any different? She wishes you would burn her underneath your gaze, put her out of the misery she feels growing every day, but you don’t. You’re always pulling her out of trouble when you truly don’t have to. It’s not your job to take care of her or hell, even look after her.

But you do and she can’t seem to figure out why.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Just shut the fuck up and let me help you. Not everyone has a motive. Some people just like to help when someone is so clearly struggling.”

“I’m not—”

You give her a glare that seems to shut her up. You draw a bath for her. It’s easy to find her towels in the only cabinet. It’s an acute studio apartment. More so of a small room with a stove stop, minimal counter space, and one bathroom enough to bathe and brush her teeth in. There isn’t much left of it but it’s hers. Grabbing the first aid kit, you kneel between her legs, the mattress sits on the floor, her legs spread and stretching out in front of you.

“Let me help you. Alright?” Vi grumbles, a incoherent complaint, but she lets you tend to her wounds.

It’s mainly just cleaning off her dry blood as she still complains in the process, but there’s a few cuts on her face and her cheeks are already beginning to bruise. It’s not a secret, she bruises like a peach but she always makes sure her opponent is leaving a lot more with just a few cuts and a bruise the size of a plum.

It’s then, when you’re concentrating on the cuts on her face, the busted lip she’s sporting; she looks at you. Maybe it’s the first time she has, but without even realizing it, she gets lost. Not in the way Vi doesn’t know who she is, that she’s completely lost on, but Vi sees you.

Bright-eyed, optimistic, helpful, kind — all attributes she couldn’t claim but wears like a badge of honor. As if helping others instills you with a sense of purpose, something that’s always been a lost cause to her. Fight until the next fight, and the next, and the next. That’s what she’s done, she's always been a fighter. She’s fallen back on it when needed. It’s clear to her. Like a vision she could see, crystal clear through some stupid ball, it’s always been about survival.

But how much longer does she want to fight and how much more does she have in her?

“Thanks.” Vi speaks softly.

Not knowing where to place her palms, she settles for her thigh. Silent as she watches, nearly analyzing every moment, every glance, every little thing you’re doing. It’s sobering to say the least. You don’t need to be delicate but you are. It’s more kindness than she deserves, nearly leaving a bitter taste on her tongue but when you offer a small smile and a soft whisper, you’re welcome.

It’s the sweetest thing Vi has ever seen.

There’s something different in the way you look at her. The soft omission exposes how sweet on Vi you may be. Definitely more than you’d let on, which was well…none. Up until tonight, she thought you hated her. With each word uttered in your direction, Vi assumed you’d rather swallow bile than stomach her slurred, flirty speech.

“Why do you want to help? It’s not like I’ve exactly been—”

“Kind?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

This time Vi lets the smile reach her eyes and your smile gets even sweeter. She can practically feel the sweetness rotting her teeth as she speaks. It’s the first time she feels something new, something as bright as the light radiating through your eyes.

“You just seem different. Even if you do try to hide it.”

With a flush of crimson coating the apple of her cheeks, she’s never been quite as exposed as this. The next few weeks are spent with less drinking, but Vi frequents the bar just as much as she did before. She orders a few pints just to talk to you. She’s learning more about you, slowly but surely, you’re opening up more. Divulging information you wouldn’t have before, trust is earned. It’s something you told her the first night you met and to this day, Vi still remembers it.

Regardless of how drunk she’d been when you said it.

It’s a typical night. Vi flirted with you but you aren’t being dismissive tonight but you’re careful enough to not let her know exactly how you feel. Everything you say is guarded enough you keep her on her toes, for a moment she thinks she might have to become a ballerina. It’s a slow night, Wednesday. Go figure Vi thinks. There was a woman who’d also been flirting with you all night. Vi thought she was beautiful, sweet, funny…certainly was making you laugh all night.

Part of Vi wanted to feel jealous but it feels too good hearing you laugh, she says nothing. Maybe you just don’t like women. Vi was known for reading into things too much, thinking everyone thought with their heart first just like she did, and assuming every hot and attractive woman was into other women — just like she is.

But the brunette left before closing, leaving Vi and a few other regulars paying their tab as they stumbled home with a belly full of liquor of their choosing.

“Alright Vi, don’t you have somewhere to be? Maybe getting some sleep for the night?”

“I don’t sleep much, it’s better if I don’t.”

“Keeps the nightmares away.”

All Vi does is nod.

“Story of the century.” You take Vi’s empty pint before washing it dispersing in the sink before cleaning up the remainder of the bar top. “Everyone’s got one around here and the new one is usually even more depressing than the last.”

“What about yours?”

“If you wanna hear that, I’ll have to be the one doing the drinking.” You smile but it’s the first one Vi recognizes as insincere.

“Yeah, seems to be the stone cold requirement for a heart to heart.”

Vi’s silent as you vent to her about the customer who refused to pay up tonight until you threatened to kick his ass and that wasn't enough, you threatened Letty on him. Vi found herself only slightly entranced as you spoke with such color, your animated voice doing impressions of the stubborn patreon, moving your hands as you speak, eyebrows furrowed as you finished the story.

You’re done cleaning and are ready to close by the time you finish, locking the door as Vi stuffs her hands in her pockets, “Can I ask you something?”

You cling to your bag like a lifeline. Vi notices how tight your grip is on the strap, almost as if you’re afraid. Of what? She has a craving to find out. “Why’d you turn her away? She seemed plenty interested. Not your type?”

You take a step forward, just as close as the last time you were in her apartment, tending to wounds she wouldn’t have really cared about but still she let you clean them.

You didn’t have to know that. Not yet, anyway.

“No, not really. I like my women a little rough around the edges, stumbling out of bars so wasted they can’t even walk home by themselves.” You smirk, grabbing the lapel of her leather jacket as you tug her closer to you. “Or is that what you want me to say?”

“Is it true?”

You both know the hope in her eyes is dangerous.

Hope.

A foreign concept in Zaun. If you get too close to the flame, you’ll get burned, dusting into ash as if you never existed. It’s what shimmer did to people, wipe them off the map until they reformed into a shell of what they used to be. You didn’t just get out of a place like this, not without some help. Vi could barely even help herself.

The both of you know it’s a bad idea. A terrible, god awful idea, but you still move in closer to her. Vi notices and she wipes the smirk off her face, your warm hands finding purchase on her exposed hips, drawing soft circles on her hip bones. She likes it, even when her heart feels torn from being blown to bits by a certain blue-eyed beauty.

Vi likes you.

“Your skin is softer than I thought it would be, smooth like pure silk. Not that I’ve ever touched it before but I’ve got to believe it would feel a lot like this.”

Vi feels a tingle up her spin, your touch is overwhelming, more than she bargained for really. A stumbling, messy kiss is all she really expected if anything. Not this. Clearly, you knew what to do. Leaving Vi a little clueless in that department, she’s knocked off her feet once again but this time in a way she wants to be. But actually bringing something this special to anything more than a few flirty quips? It never seems to be her strong suit.

So, she puts her best foot forward. Her big stupid mouth, one she can never quite fully silence. “I can guarantee my lips feel a lot softer.”

“Vi—” You speak her name like a warning, an unspoken law you’re breaking by entertaining your feelings and the bubbling sentiments you hold for her close to your heart. You know better than to keep it so close, but the halo in her eyes blinds you to reason and you let it.

“It’s Violet but you can call me whatever you want, sweets.”

You chuckle at the pet name.

“Just one night. That’s it. Just to get it out of our system.”

“One night, sweets. It’s all I need.”

—

It’s how you ended up here, the third night in a row since the first, trapped under the web of Vi and her eager mouth. Slender, perfectly sculpted fingers feel like a hex to your cunt, every moment causing you to fall further into her spell. To say she has a certain talent would be considered an understatement. It’s clear Vi’s enjoying herself, fuck, damn near suffocates herself in your weeping cunt. Last night wasn’t nearly enough, she needs to have you, again. Not that you were complaining.

As much as you hate to admit it, there has been no one as generous as her. As good as her, as sweet, as kind, and she did whatever the hell you asked for. Nothing has beaten the first night, her thumping clit nudging against your as she hiked one of your legs over her toned shoulders.

It’s not a secret how built she is, far from it, but it’s another thing entirely to watch her flexed bicep ripple with every grind of her hips. Each movement seems to be calculated with precision, focused on doing more than just making herself feel good. With pure determination, glazed over crystal blue eyes, and a pouty scarred lip, she makes sure you’re enjoying this as much as her. With each moan you let slip, her confidence only grows until she’s commanded full control over you. She takes what she wants from you and in return you’re seeing stars behind your eyes, constellations created in the shape of her name as you come.

“That’s it pretty girl, just for me, yeah?” Vi talks you through as she works you through your orgasm with her strong hips, not stopping even after you’ve cum. She wants more and Vi pulls three more orgasms out of you before she’s done for the night. You expected her to be good. There was no shocker there but you didn’t expect her to be so sweet afterwards. Vi is a drunk, an addict, whether she wants to accept it or not. You could be just another object she’s addicted to. Somehow, you convince yourself it’s just a one time thing. It doesn’t mean anything, it won’t.

Truthfully it feels much more than just a one night stand, more than an itch being scratched — the blossoming ache in your soul feels tethered to your heart every time Vi makes you feel an ounce of love — even when she tries to hide it behind a wall. Whether you’re aware, the wall can’t seem to stop crumbling. Brick by brick, it’s coming undone just as you have. Weak-willed and with purpose, you fall into her.

There isn’t an inch of your body Vi didn’t kiss. Her lips tattooing every inch of your skin with marked affection, almost as if she’s mending your skin with the burn of her lips. When she claims your soft lips, haunting you with the salvation of perfection as her velvet tongue invades your mouth, the taste of you melting from her tongue to yours. The silent declaration you didn’t ask for but craved, the carnal moan leaving her mouth as she chuckles when your hips pathetically grind into hers.

Vi enjoys your company, that much is clear, but this time you bring her to your place. It’s more or less the same. Both of you coming down from the highest of highs, you feel sticky, dirty, and damn right heavenly. Vi disappears into your bathroom, grabbing a wash rag before dampening the material underneath a warm faucet. Carefully, she kneels by your hips, legs twitching softly as her skilled fingers find your slit before Vi’s sucking the digit in your mouth.

“I just wanted one last taste before I clean you up.”

As she has before, Vi makes good on her promise and cleans you up. She enjoys when the pad of her thumb grazes against your clit, terribly overstimulated, your stomach twitches. All Vi can do is chuckle.

“I’m just a little—”

“Sensitive?” Vi smirks as you hide your face in the palm of her hands, the pad of her thumb gently caressing your skin.

It’s the lightest she’s felt in weeks. Almost as if she’s floating on a cloud, she wants to stay up there in the cloudiest of nines. Just you and her and an aging mattress as she offers you everything she can give. Albeit, it isn’t much but she’ll still freely give.

Like a dog with a bone, Vi corners you on the third night when it’s just you and her in the bar. Closing time has long since arrived and vanished into the crisp air of the night but Vi has you bent over the bar, desperation clawing at the weathered countertop of the bar as Vi’s fingers fucks your pretty little hole while her tongue laps at the slick that’s dripping out of you. Your pretty little skirt pushed up, your panties pushed to the side as she laps and sucks at your juices. She can feel you dripping onto her chin and it only makes her that much more eager to swallow every bit you have to offer.

“We shouldn’t be doing this—” Fuck. Vi starts doing tricks with her tongue, sliding in another finger, pushing against the soft spot buried deep as she toys with you in the way knows best. “We, um, Vi we said just one night.”

“Shut the fuck up and take it like a good girl. Or did you forget?” Vi moans into your cunt, the vibrations causing your thighs to shake under her mouth. “It’s not like you were complaining last night.”

Vi silences you as her pace picks up, her fingers fucking you at such a pretty pace, feeling the build grow in the pit of your stomach edging to come to a full bloom.

All of you begging for it to be released. Vi uses her free hand to slap your ass, sending you moaning and lurching forward. You push yourself back grinding against her tongue, before she removes her divine mouth as she kisses up your spine, her fingers stuffed inside you not faltering for a moment.

Vi continues to kiss up your spine until she reaches the nape of your neck, her breath kissing your skin, your body shivers into her touch. Full lips ghost over your ear before whispering quietly, “Are you sure you want me to stop? I will if you want me to. I just thought you might wanna, you know, take my cock tonight. Give it a good ride.”

The moan you let out would put Aphrodite’s to shame, needy and choked sobs escape you as her fingers thrust inside you faster than they have before.

“Oh? Do you like the sound of that, babygirl? Want to show me how good you can be for me?” Vi doubled down on her efforts, enjoying how much you arched into her body, your hips pushing back as you grind into quick fingers. She’s fucking you better than well…anyone.

“Vi, please.” Your voice catches in your throat, hoarse and full of need. An insatiable craving; one you fear only she can provide. A few mindless days and careless flirting to land in her sheets, her in yours, the details didn’t truly matter. A vampire out for blood, almost more venomous than precious canines breaking the skin, you yearned to suck on every last drop. But she didn’t seem to be in a mind frame to relinquish control.

“Please what? I’m not sure if I understand you.”

All of it, so tantalizing, so fucking infuriating. Three fingers inside you, effectively making you silent, shutting you up as she brings you closer to the edge. That’s the thing, truthfully, Vi has you right where she wants. Only a few thrusts away until you come undone around her. The black haired succubus increases the pace, thumb playing with your clit, her calloused fingers increasing your high as she applies more pressure on the thousands of nerve endings on your precious pearl.

“Shit. You’re gonna pay for this.”

“What? For making you come? I hardly constitute that as a crime.”

Your hands reach for the counter top, you’re not sure what exactly you want, but Vi makes you come for the first time that night. It’s a game, the push and pull. Dangerous. Intoxicating. Some disposition falling far from your fingertips, a game to her and a downward hill spiral for you. Addiction festering next to an open wound and the only antidote can be found on her tongue. Tasting the devil’s mouth is one thing but swallowing the sensation of the woman you’re beginning to love is something else entirely.

Vi, despite her best efforts not to, makes you fall over the edge. It’s more than her eager tongue and expectant mouth slurping at the vindication of your taste. The craving builds like an exposed vein. Her confidence irrevocably soars like a raven through the midnight sky. Even if Vi acts like she’s done this before, you could pull the curiosity intertwined with naivety a mile away. Violet has never done this before, not with a woman at least, you’re sure of it. She’s a fast learner and such a great accomplishment should replenish such a reward.

With the energy you have left, you push your skirt down first, as Vi puts your underwear back in place. She doesn’t stop touching you. She can’t. There isn’t much she feels she has control over, this arrangement being one of them. She’s good at this and Vi enjoys it. Every other part of her life, failure surrounds her, her ability not to please anyone in her life.

In a constant loop, she finds herself caught in the crossfire. Tugged between sister and lover, family and righteousness. Her enemy becomes her lover and lover becomes enemy — all of it poisons her blood and cures her core — and all of it makes her hear a voice she doesn’t recognize but it’s just as true as the four walls surrounding her.

Oil and water.

Collecting like scars on her porcelain skin, Vi feels herself sink like an obliterating star. There’s a wonder settled in her chest, it feels heavy and weak, two incapable fists unable to surround her heart with anything but loss, betrayal even. She can’t punch her way out of this one.

All of it wakes a fire in her chest, a dagger being punctured in her heart by the one Vi thought she could trust the most. She doesn’t want to admit it so she doesn’t.

But this? It feels easy.

She needs easy, light, even good. Maybe she doesn’t deserve it.

Vi definitely doesn’t, the sentence flows like a never-ending stream of waterfall continuously drowning her. The blood on her hands stains her perception of all things pure, she wonders how she even sees you at all. How you see her more vividly than anyone, possibly even Cait. There’s no judgment, no snarky remark of where she comes from. Even if she thought there had once been love, Vi questions it now.

When you come, it feels like a breath of fresh air, a golden wave washing over her sinful hands. Each stroke of gold, your grit and blind hopefulness soaks Vi’s entity. This is what she wants. There’s nothing more than this, someone she could love, who loves her. It’s uncomplicated but the feeling flees as you come to it. Vi can’t help but feel regretful as you cover your ass, it’s such a pretty sight. She can’t stop that she’s greedy, you’ve fed her for the first time in her life and now Vi feels full but she’s only human.

A sinner always craves more.

She lets her touch linger on the gold between your thighs, pushing the white substance back into you before Vi lets you feel how wet you are, the dripping slick feels uncomfortable caged into cotton underwear and she wants you to feel it. The breath Vi hears are still heavy, impossibly heavy, and there’s pride in hearing you center yourself, back pressed against her chest as Vi keeps you in place.

The pleasure within your body begins to slither away as you come back into the angel you are and not the sexual deviant bent over the woman who never pulls her punches.

“Felt good, yeah?” Vi says. Her angelic, sweeter than the cotton candy stick in your teeth, voice penetrates through. You like it too much. It shouldn’t make you feel as good as it does. Desperately, you want to keep this casual but you’re even losing your footing.

You pride yourself on the lack of attachment; you don’t need it. Never really had. But then with her it seems to change even faster than the seasons, your wall breaks somehow in between from spring to summer. With intent, you move around, her bright eyes have darken a bit but the fading light looks brighter than you’ve ever seen it.

Fuck, Vi is making this difficult.

“You could say that.” You speak softly, a tremble in your voice occurs but Vi says nothing but she does smirk. “Can I ask you something?”

You turn around and suddenly Vi is staring at your exposed cleavage, the one you use to draw in patreons and to fill your pockets with as many tips as one can muster. Vi had been one, a faithful one trying to drink her away to the bottom of every bottle until she found something else for her. Something that didn’t leave a burn in her throat.

“What is it?”

“Was it your first time? The first night?”

Sheepishly, Vi blushes. For a second, she contemplates lying but you’d see right through it. Right through her. It would only take one look in her blues and you would know.

“That obvious?” Vi struggles with her words next but she manages to murmur a lame excuse. “Stillwater didn’t leave much time for this.”

“And after?” You tease but the sincerity in your eyes soothes her.

“There could have been but there wasn’t. Some things just don’t fit.” Oil and water is what she wants to say but she bites her tongue.

“You should have told me. I wouldn’t have been so, I don’t know, selfish?”

“There’s nothing selfish about it. I wanted to make you feel good. Did you enjoy yourself?” This time she makes your skin feel hot. Fuck.

“Yeah, I did enjoy myself,” you pressed against her as your arms loop around Vi’s necks to bring her closer “but I think it’s officially my turn to offer my services. Don’t you think so?”

It’s how Vi ends up here, in your place, in your bed — soaked.

If there was one thing you knew, it was how to please someone. You managed to pull whimpers out of her she didn’t even know existed. The desperate plea coming from her shivering body as she spilled in your mouth the first time sent a shiver down her spine, the band in her stomach snapping as you sloppily spit on her cunt, constant circles of pressure on her clit seeing nothing but your eyes look up at her.

Not letting a single drop go to waste, you fucked Vi through it, swallowing her completely. Vi shed the wrap covering her chest next. Her body bruised from the pit fights but you couldn’t think of anyone more beautiful than her. You paid attention to her collarbones, neck, and her tits. Sucking on her nipples as Vi tries to come down from the high you placed her on, she doesn’t think she ever will.

She tries not to think that she wanted these things with Caitlyn. Cait. Cupcake.

Vi only allows herself to think of her when she’s dreaming, visions of what that could have been, what she used to be. All of it so trivial, so senseless when she thinks of you. How you make her feel is different and she tries not to think of what it all means.

One night.

Then two.

Now three.

In another life, maybe she was stronger, and didn't need to be wanted. Hell, even needed. She could wait for someone who she thought loves her but the other part of her doesn’t want to think, she wants to feel. Vi likes feeling the softness of your skin, the light in your laughter, the swell of your exposed chest, the way your greedy eyes take in her abs, your soft lips kissing every part of her skin. The smooth, the scarred, the unworthy — you take it all in such stride.

“Do you want to stop? I think I lost you for a second.” You inquire to the pretty girl beneath you, her hands find your waist, creating makeshift circles on your hip bones.

“No, that’s the last thing I want.” Vi brings you to her lips, capturing your bottom lip, tongue invading your mouth. She tastes herself as your tongue melts with hers and the rest of her worries melt away. It’s just you and her. “I want to keep going.”

“Then tell me what you want, baby. I’ll do whatever you want. It’s yours if you want it.”

It’s spoken as a reminder. All of this is her decision. Vi decides when she wants this, how she wants it, and you’re letting her take all of it in the way she needs. Vi tried not to think the first couple times, she never wanted her first time to be a big deal. Maybe with Caitlyn it could have been, but then she changed.

Vi thought maybe she could too. So, she did.

“Can you—” Vi stutters. Yet again her attention gets pulled to your tits, the softness of your stomach, she can’t stop looking at you. As if she’s trying to remember everything about you. She’s committed to it. Vi wants to remember the soft curves of your hips, the way you moan when she comes on your tongue.

The sight of you looking down at her makes she lose every rational thought, she wants to commit to memory forever. It won’t be something she easily forgets.

“Gotta speak up, babygirl. Especially if you want me to keep my attention focused on this pretty cunt of yours.”

You sit between her legs, tilting your head, you look at her glistening pussy, the way it shines with her cum and your sloppy spit. It would look even more exquisite with a little more. Taking a beat as you take your time, you gather enough in your mouth before spitting slowly, Vi whimpering as your spit makes contact with her lower pair of lips. She couldn’t stop it, it slips and you’re grinning, hips desperately bucking to feel more of it.

“F-Fuck, need your cock. Please? I need it more than anything.” Vi confesses. There’s no need for dignity, especially if she keeps it and you won’t give her what she’s itching for.

“Yeah? Are you sure about it? Don’t want you backing out just in case you can’t be a good girl and take it.”

She can take it but she can’t take the countless teasing, trapped underneath the images drowning in her mind. This is what she wants, someone to dissolve into her, make her forget everything that has happened, just a pretty girl with some pretty tits who knows how to fuck. Right? That’s all this is. It’s all it can be tonight. Her lip is busted from the fight tonight, knuckles bloodied and bruised, but you don’t seem to mind all that much. It’s all the same to you. Vi is all the same, that’s been clear from the start.

Then, she decides to let her mind get shut off, let herself fall into you. You did know how to take care of her and tonight she would let you.

“Let me know if it’s too much, okay?”

“I promise.”

Once the harness is on, you wedge yourself in between her thighs, tattooed and toned, brave and brawny but she transforms into someone else entirely once you’re sinking inside her warm walls. You think about what it would feel like to feel her. Is she clenching around your cock? Would you feel the throbbing heartbreak of her clit? What you can hear is the whimper, uncontrollable and breathtaking, you slip further into her as you make home in her beautiful cunt.

She’s made it yours to take. You’d do anything and everything for her, the thought alone scares so you do what you do best, you grind your hips slowly. Not wanting to overwhelm her too quickly, it’s the first time she’s taking penetration and you want it to be good for her.

“You’re so perfect. Doing so good for me, taking my cock like a fucking champ.” You whisper out, taking too much enjoyment in her getting lost in your soft thrusts. Vi’s chest starts to heave as her hips roll into yours. Vi never even imagined wanting this, or that she could really have it with someone else. It’s not like she’s experienced, she has nothing to compare it to, but it feels incredibly intimate.

She likes how you’re being with her. Soft, gentle, delicate. Vi thought she’d never want to feel that way, but maybe it’s just under the right circumstance in the right light.

“Shit, shit, shit” Vi chants as your hand grabs the headboard, giving her one particular powerful thrust. Perky tits spring to life, jolting against the sudden movement, her moan so fucking load, as you continue your movements. This time not as hard, but you pick up your pace, wanting to see if she would have any arguments against it but Vi doesn’t. Profanities and whimpers leave her mouth as you split her on your cock. Face half-smashed into the pillow, trying to muffle her moans and you offer this one mercy.

She’s still shy.

Now is a good time as any to fuck it out of her.

“Do you want more Vi? Want me to go…faster?” Placing a hand on her abdomen, the abs defined and clenching as you halt your thrust for a moment. “Do you wanna feel me in your stomach, baby?”

“Can you even do that? I’m not so sure you’re even capable. Looks like the rookie knows more moves than the veteran.” Vi bites back. But it doesn’t last for long. Vi thinks she must have said the wrong thing, pushed you too far, you slipped off her but only to move her body to the edge of the bed, placing her on all fours right in front of a very convenient mirror.

“Fine. Thought I’d be sweet but that isn’t what you really want. If you want to get treated like a whore, I’ll fuck you like one.” You take a beat to appreciate her wonderfully sculpted back, the artwork is truly exquisite. It feels so much like her but the foolish girl is smirking at you through the mirror.

You know you’ve been caught ogling at her body, checking out every inch of her exposed body, you slap her ass in retaliation but she just grinds her ass back onto you.

“I’m waiting.” Teasingly, Vi arches her spine more. “Where’s the whore fucking you’re muling about?”

In one move, you’re inside her, fucking her beautiful face into the mattress. Never in her life has she felt so full, so good, so sweet. You grab her by the meat of her hips, bringing you back on her repeatedly. Vi wonders what she would give to have this, have you, and the thought scares her just as badly. She instead focused on you.

Tits bouncing as you thrust into her at a punishing pace. Divinely and so perfectly you, making her see stars, she feels trapped. Not in a punishing way, but in a way that has her never wanting to leave the entrapments of your coaxing cock. At this moment, this is where she’s meant to be, just a toy for you to use.

But it’s more than what meets the eye. If Vi was just a toy, you’d be done after the first night. Tonight, you weren’t using her for your own pleasure. You seemed perfectly content to give. The shine in her eyes gave you something only she could, edging you even further, a constant wave hitting Vi like a tidal wave making home on the shore.

“God, you’re just too perfect. Fuck, just like that, take what’s yours.” Bouncing back on the strap, the words fall from her lips before she can’t stop them. Overflowing like a water fountain, it’s before she really even realizes what she’s saying, it just feels right.

“Mommy, please.”

Vi has had those words on the tip of her tongue but not that you’re fucking her into a different dimension, she lets the aching plea slip from sinful lips. It’s only once but it’s enough to set you off. You pull Vi up, her gorgeous back pressed against your chest, sitting on your thighs as you fuck up into her. Brutally, she takes everything you have to give.

Sweat glistening across her body, accentuating her chest as she tries to compose herself but you don’t give her the option. No. It would be too easy, wouldn’t it?

“I want you to watch, Violet. Watch yourself when you cum, be a good girl and show me how pretty you look, hm? Wouldn’t wanna disappoint, Mommy, now would you?”

Vi sucks on your middle digit, tongues swirling as she feels the tight band in her stomach, threatening to snap. She’s close. When the sensationally soft pad of your thumb applies pressure on her clit, Vi’s done for.

“Shit, oh my fucking god, baby baby babbyyyyy.” Incoherent murmurs and moans come in abundance as Vi bounces herself your cock, falling right apart as you toy with her clit, fucking her through the impending high. Your other arm tweaks around and up, fingers squeezing her tits, over stimulating her as she slumps against you.

It’s the easiest task ever done. Submit to you, your skilled fingers, the power of your sinfully sensational thrusts, she comes all over you. The powerful demeanor weakens before your very eyes. When you gently move her back on the bed, slipping out of her, Vi’s eyes begin to water from the loss.

The first time getting strapped down is always a lot to handle, you’d still taken it easier on her, too afraid you would push her too far but by the blissed out eyes, she’d enjoyed herself. She had enjoyed herself and you couldn’t really ask for much more.

When the both of you are cleaned up, Vi cuddles into your frame and you let her. Even if your first instinct is to push her away, saying something you know that’ll hurt her, none of it finds any merit on your tongue. For the first time, you find it difficult to turn away a pretty girl, her lips kissing your collarbones, up your neck until she finds home on your own lips, sloppily invading your mouth with your tongue.

Hitting you where it hurts, she moans your name in her mouth, unable to contain the neediness she feels around you. It’s worse than Cait. This is pure addiction entangled with something carnal. Vi knows if she doesn’t get to fuck you again, you fucking her cunt again, she might as well give up on life now.

“I could go again.”

You chuckle. Of course she could.

“Don’t know rookie, that might be all you can handle for the night.”

It’s a challenge and you know she’ll bite the bait.

With ease she gets on top of you, and just as if she’s done it a hundred times, Vi sinks on your cock, “I think I can handle another ride, don’t you?”

#m'actually kinda proud of this one #i hope y'all like it :')#lmk what you think <3 #vi #vi arcane #arcane league of legends #league of legends #vi smut #vi x reader #vi x you #vi arcane x reader #wlw post #wlw fanfiction #lesbian #violet arcane x reader #vi x fem reader #arcane x you #violet arcane

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olive-main · 1 month ago

Note

oooo if you’re interested would love to see your take: reader is Azriel’s mate, nobody knows. The inner circle keeps trying to set him up with females (including Elaine & Gwyn). They like reader but don’t view her as an option for being his partner. Lots of angst, she’s hurting, she overhears them saying she’s not an option for him. Up to you what happens for her and Azriel. Loved your last story, and that you wanted more angst ideas!! And if this isn’t what you’re looking for, all good!

Between Us Alone

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel’s mate overhears a conversation that shakes her confidence in their hidden bond, but he reminds her that love, even in shadows, is unbreakable.

Wc: 1.2k

A/N: Annndddd welcome back to our regularly scheduled programming. This time I come with the gift of some fluff (with angst ofc bcs duh—who do y’all think I am?) Enjoy the happy endings while they last…..evil laugh

Masterlist

——

The corridors of the House of Wind were quiet, save for the faint hum of conversation that drifted from Rhysand’s office. You’d gone looking for Azriel, hoping he might steal away from his “boys’ night” early and join you at your shared apartment.

A secret, the two of you. Hidden in plain sight. Quite fitting for Rhysand’s spymasters.

It was exhilarating at first—the quiet smiles across rooms, the fleeting brushes of hands, and the stolen glances when no one else was looking. But there were cracks now, small fissures of insecurity that made you wonder if keeping the bond private had been the right choice.

Your footsteps slowed as you neared Rhys’s office, voices clear now, though you didn’t mean to eavesdrop. You were about to knock when you caught the sound of Cassian’s boisterous laughter.

“Oh, come on, Az,” Cassian said, his tone teasing. “You’ve been spending all that time with Gwyn. Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”

“Gwyn’s sweet,” Rhysand added. “And she clearly enjoys your company. You’d make a good pair.”

Your heart clenched painfully, the words hitting you like a physical blow.

Azriel’s reply was quieter, almost unreadable. “Gwyn is a friend. I’m not looking for… that.”

Cassian scoffed. “You say that now, but it’s been centuries, Az. When was the last time you even tried to let someone in? Gwyn’s perfect for you—kind, strong, clever. She gets you.”

“She’s not the only option,” Rhys said smoothly. “There are others. Nesta’s mentioned a few priestesses who would be good matches.”

Cassian nodded in agreement. “There’s also Y/N.”

You pressed your hand to the doorframe, your breaths shallow as you heard Cassian say your name.

“No, I don’t see them together. They rarely speak to each other outside of missions and a few shared words at dinners.” Rhysand says with a shake of his head as if the thought of you and Azriel together was the most unlikely thing he could think of.

You shouldn’t have stayed, shouldn’t have listened, but you couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. They didn’t mean to hurt you—you knew that. You’d always been on the periphery of their circle, a friend but never a true equal in their eyes. Azriel’s shadows had been your sanctuary, his quiet love a solace you cherished.

But to hear them speak so casually, as if you weren’t even a possibility…

Azriel’s voice cut through, firm and unyielding. “I don’t need you to play matchmaker. I can handle my own life.”

“You’re avoiding the question,” Cassian said, clearly amused.

“Drop it,” Azriel snapped, his tone brooking no argument.

The room fell silent after that, but the damage was done. You turned and fled, the ache in your chest twisting tighter with every step.

—

The space you shared with Azriel was small but cozy, tucked away in a quiet corner of Velaris where no one thought to look. It was your haven, the only place you could truly be yourselves without prying eyes or whispered questions.

But tonight, it felt suffocating.

You sank onto the couch, wrapping a blanket around yourself as the doubts clawed at your mind.

This charade was necessary. You both knew that. If they ever found out you and Azriel had been together for months—years, now—it would complicate everything. Not just for him, but for you.

As Azriel’s partner, you worked in the shadows as he did, your work as vital and delicate as his own. Secrecy was second nature to you both, and you’d agreed early on that revealing your bond—to anyone—was too risky.

You’d thought you could handle it. But moments like this, when they talked about Azriel’s love life like you didn’t exist, like you weren’t his, made you question how much more you could endure.

You told yourself it wasn’t Azriel’s fault. He hadn’t encouraged them. He’d even told them to stop. But the weight of their words lingered, stirring fears you’d tried so hard to bury.

What if they were right? What if Azriel deserved someone like Gwyn, someone who could stand beside him without the need for secrecy?

You didn’t hear the front door open, too lost in your thoughts to notice the familiar sound of Azriel’s footsteps until he was standing in front of you.

“Something’s wrong,” he said immediately, his hazel eyes scanning your face. His shadows swirled around him, restless and sharp. “What happened?”

You shook your head, forcing a smile. “It’s nothing. Just tired.”

His brow furrowed, and he crouched in front of you, his hands resting gently on your knees. “Don’t lie to me.”

The sincerity in his voice nearly broke you. You looked away, your throat tightening as you tried to hold back tears.

“Y/N,” he said softly, tilting your chin up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. “Tell me.”

You hesitated, the words sticking in your throat. But you couldn’t keep it in any longer.

“I went to Rhys’s office,” you admitted quietly. “I was going to find you, but… I heard you all talking.”

Azriel stiffened, his jaw tightening. “What did you hear?” He already knew. There was only one part of the conversation that could’ve had you so distraught.

You swallowed hard. “They… they were trying to set you up with someone. Gwyn, mostly. Rhys mentioned others.” You laughed bitterly, the sound hollow. “They said I wasn’t even an option.”

Azriel’s eyes darkened, his shadows curling tighter around him.

“They didn’t mean it to hurt me, I know that” you added quickly, seeing how Azriel was ready to go back and pummel his brothers. “They don’t know about us. But… it still hurt.”

He exhaled sharply, standing and pacing the room. His hands curled into fists at his sides. “They had no right—”

“They care about you,” you interrupted. “They want you to be happy. And maybe they’re right. Maybe you’d be better off with someone like Gwyn. Someone who—”

“Stop.”

The word was a command, sharp and unyielding. Azriel crossed the room in an instant, kneeling before you again. He took your hands in his, his grip firm but gentle.

“Don’t you dare doubt this,” he said fiercely. “Don’t you dare doubt us.”

Tears spilled over, and he reached up to brush them away, his touch achingly tender.

“You are my mate,” he said, his voice breaking. “You. Not Gwyn, not anyone else. You are the only one I want, the only one I will ever want.”

“But they—”

“They’re idiots,” he said flatly. “I’ll deal with them. But don’t let their ignorance make you doubt what we have.”

You searched his face, finding only unwavering certainty in his eyes.

“I love you,” he said, his voice softening. “More than I thought I was capable of. And I don’t care if they don’t see it. I see it. I feel it.”

A broken laugh escaped you, relief washing over you like a tide. “I love you too.”

He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as if he could shield you from the world.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I never wanted you to feel like this. I thought keeping the bond private would protect us, but if it’s hurting you—”

“It’s not,” you said quickly. “Not really. I just… I needed to hear this. To hear you.”

He pulled back just enough to press his forehead to yours. “You’ll never have to doubt me again.”

——

Aren’t they just so sweet *sigh*. Thank you for reading <3

Requests are still open ;)

1K notes · View notes

chuulyssa · 2 months ago

Text

୨・──── TELL ME I’M A LITTLE ANGEL, SWEETHEART OF YOUR CITY ────・୧

pairing ⸺ satoru gojo x reader

teaser ⸺ as a child, you were taken in by the powerful gojo clan and raised alongside their heir, gojo satoru — but never as his sibling. now, at an elite school, your fragile bond is tested when an actual noble woman enters the picture, bringing in a marriage proposal.

FIRST IN ARRANGED. [GOJO SATORU X READER]

READ PART II HERE

content ⸺ fluff, reader is an academic achiever and has a good handwriting, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, cliff hanger ending, human auctions, implied slavery, jealousy, implied torture, shoko talks about using medical tools for torture (lol), blood, implied abuse, implied grape (not at reader), magic!au, historic!au, the ages of reader and gojo throughout the story: 3, 10, 12, 15, 17

count ⸺ 22k

author’s note ⸺ thank you to everyone for waiting patiently! this is just the part one, i hope it does well to give me enough motivation to write a part two. i have so soo many ideas i’m hoping to incorporate.

🎧 ao3 wattpad

You sat next to the man, bowing deeply with him at some figure you couldn’t care less about. It had to be someone important obviously, and you knew now was the time you were going to get kicked out of a place for the tenth time in your life, unwittingly dragging this poor man with you as well. He had seemed kind enough when he had bought you off at that auction.

He wasn’t anything like you had feared. You had met other girls bonding with each other inside the cage; girls older and prettier than you, getting sold off one by one to old and creepy men who looked like they couldn’t keep it in their pants. You had dreaded meeting the same fate as them. That was, until the man who kept increasing his offer for you looked younger and stronger.

He was probably like one of those army officers you had seen at your mother’s house, who would stand guard outside your small room each night she and her happy family went out to lavish parties, to make sure you didn’t escape. Well, even if you did, you thought that was what they would have wanted, but they kept saying that they didn’t want anyone noticing your existence. Not that they didn’t have a good reason.

In your mind, you had hoped the man would win, and when he had, the triumphant look on his face made you sigh in relief; at least now you were sure you wouldn’t be used as a hole for life. But were you, though? Because the thoughts kept creeping back; the looks on the other girls’ faces when they were taken away by their new masters. But the mysterious man had made you sit on his pretty horse, taking you somewhere, away from the horrifying auctions that represented the worst atrocities made by humans.

You peered from under your hands, still in your bowing position. The person had now risen. He had dark hair and vivid blue eyes. He seemed to peer at you in as much curiosity as you were at him. That was, until a crisp voice had cut through the silence, knocking you out of your bow when it addressed your saviour to “pack his things and leave”.

“I understand, madam,” he said smoothly, getting up to leave, not before giving another curt nod. Then he turned to you. “This is where my job ends, little one. You’ll be much happier here,” he whispered, nodding at you and standing up. You almost wanted to stop him before you remembered you were told several times that you didn’t possess any human emotions. So you watched him leave, wondering how he was so sure this wouldn’t be another one of your previous houses.

“As for the child,” you snapped your head back to the dark-haired man in front of you who seemed to be giving commands, “we must decide which family keeps her. From the looks of it, she needs to be tended to,” he eyed your wounds from previous struggles you wished to forget about.

You stared at the people he was questioning, and they all looked away. This seemed like a meeting room, and the people were lined up sitting parallel to each other. Some were glaring at you like you had come to raid their houses, fuck their wives and drink their blood. None of them seemed to realize you were only a child of ten. Nervous under all the gazes, you wished to find another person you could bow to, just to avoid all the staring you were receiving.

“We will,” said the same voice you had heard earlier, and you finally looked at its source.

She had long, white hair that seemed to reach till the floor. Her eyes were light, and she looked pretty. She had a cold look on her face that made her seem frightening, though, and that was probably why you saw that none of the others could even muster enough courage to look at her eyes when she said those words.

“Well, it’s decided then,” the man said in a final tone, as if he had only bargained about the price of a few watermelons from his local vendor. “Love, if you will.”

Love? Oh, maybe they were married.

The woman stood up and everyone bowed at her again. You were about to sink back into the position before she crouched down in front of you, caressing your hair with a touch that made you look back at her.

“Come with me, daughter.”

──── ୨ৎ ────

“I have a sister now?” “Shh, and don’t call her that. I’ve already told you, she’s not your sister—”

“Does she know how to ride horses?” “Do you ever do anything else?”

“She should know how to ride horses.” “You can teach her.”

“Oh, wow, really?”

You scrambled away from the door at the sounds of footsteps returning and sunk back into the expensive bed the woman had had prepared for you. The ‘woman’ who asked you to call her ‘mom’, somehow losing the twinkle in her eye when commanding maids around, which she seemed to regain every time you spoke something.

You knew it was a trap though. If she really ‘adopted’ you and wanted you to call her ‘mom’, wouldn’t that mean you were the sister to whatever child she already had? Yet here you were, all cleaned up and changed, almost believing the charade before realizing the child was being advised not to consider you as their sister.

You bit your lip, trying not to cry. At least you weren’t at your old house thinking of ways to poison your family, or in that cage counting down for when it was your turn, or lying dead in some creep’s backyard. Maybe you could enjoy this while it lasted.

“May I come in?” A polite, boyish voice rang out from behind your door. A hushed whisper of an older woman seemed to reprimand him for not knocking, and the two started to argue.

“Yes?” You didn’t quite know how to respond professionally to the request, so your answer came off more as a question. You sure hoped the man wouldn’t scold you for your manners as well.

A boy stepped forward, and you immediately knew he was the son of the two clan leaders. Not because of his clothes, but because of his face. He had the same white hair as his mother, and the blue eyes he got from his father. Maybe blue eyes were a thing of the clan?

“Hi,” he said awkwardly, and the door closed behind him. “Mother sent me here for ‘bonding time’.” You kept staring at him, not realizing you were staring. He looked up at you and flushed. Only then did you realize, chuckling awkwardly and scratching your wrists, trying to get used to the expensive scents the maids had covered you with.

“Can I… uh,” he trailed off, staring at you, and you blinked back at him, not knowing what he was going to say.

“...sit on the bed?” You offered, and he raised an eyebrow before climbing on it, sitting in the most formal position you had ever seen.

“Do you like horse riding?” “What?”

He flushed even more. “Mother said we should ask each other questions to get to know the other better.”

“Oh.” “Yeah.”

There was another silence.

“So it’s my turn to ask a question now?” You asked. “Yeah.”

“Do you like potatoes?”

“What?” He processed your question for a solid five seconds before bursting into laughter. You kept staring at him as if he was stupid. Did you say something stupid?

“I like you!” He said in between giggles, his old formal, uptight position long lost. It was your turn to flush now. No one had ever said they even wanted you alive, let alone say that. Well, no one except for three people in the past few hours, and now this guy. You had a feeling you might prefer this over anything else for now.

──── ୨ৎ ────

The soft hum of celebration still lingered in the air. Lanterns flickered outside glowing warmly across your room. You sat on the edge of your bed, staring at the wrapped gifts and trinkets the Gojo family had insisted on presenting you earlier. It had been strange, the idea of sharing a birthday with Satoru. You didn’t even know your real birthday, so his — no — your mother announced it would be shared.

Satoru had, of course, embraced the attention, dragging you along with him to cut the massive cake. You had never seen anything like this before, and it might have shown on your face, because he had held your wrist tightly as if annoyed you were taking so long, and cut the cake with you. That was what made it impossible to shun the feelings of belongingness.

Now, the house was quiet, and the festivities had faded. But just as you were about to pull the covers over yourself, the faint sound of your door creaking open made you pause.

“Hey,” Satoru’s voice whispered, followed by the soft padding of his feet. You turned your head to see him, still in the formal robes mother had fussed over earlier, though they were now slightly askew. His hair was a mess, his face flushed from excitement — or maybe all the sweets he’d devoured.

“Should you not knock?” you asked, folding your arms. You inwardly cringed at the noble accent you had unknowingly adopted from the Gojo family. “And what are you doing here?”

“Escaping,” he said, as if that explained everything. He plopped down without invitation beside you on the bed, leaning back on his hands and gazing at the ceiling. “Mother’s got the maids cleaning up. I was bored. Figured you’d be awake.”

You rolled your eyes, but he caught the faint smile tugging at your lips. “You’re going to get us in trouble. Again.”

“What’s the point of having a birthday if you can’t even cause some trouble now?” He shot you a grin, then leaned closer to the window. “Let’s go outside.”

“What? No.” “Please, please, pretty please?”

“I am not letting my first birthday become my death day,” you scoffed at him. Taking one look at the pout on his face, which seemed to stretch all the way down to his neck, you sighed, and he knew he won. “Fine. But we’re only looking outside.”

“What!? But what’s the fun in that?” “Then go alone.”

He pouted again, but you merely looked away trying to shield yourself from his cuteness. Soon after though, Satoru relented. He slid the window open and climbed onto the ledge, grumbling for you to follow. You joined him, settling beside him as the smell of night air filled your room. The stars were brilliant tonight, like silver dust across an ink-black canvas.

“They’re so bright,” you murmured. “It’s almost… too much.”

Satoru snorted. “That’s the problem with you. You overthink everything. Just look at them — they’re pretty, that’s all there is to it.”

You rolled your eyes again but couldn’t suppress a small laugh. “Fine. They’re beautiful. Happy now?”

“Very,” he said, grinning. Then he tilted his head, closing his eyes and mumbling something to himself. He opened his eyes, looking at you expectantly. “Now it’s your turn. Make a wish.”

“What?” You frowned.

“A wish! Like for your birthday. I know we already made some during the cake thing, but this one’s private. Just for us.”

You hesitated, unsure of what to wish for, before finally closing your eyes. Satoru watched you intently as if trying to guess your wish, but when you opened your eyes again, he pretended to be fascinated by the sky.

“Oh, done already? What did you wish for?” he asked after a moment.

“You said it was private,” you shot back. “What did you wish for?”

“Not telling,” he replied smugly, crossing his arms. “What if you laugh?”

“Why would I laugh?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Because you’re you.” “And you’re stupid.”

The two of you fell into another argument, but when it finally died down, it was followed by a comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional sound of distant crickets. Then, out of nowhere, Satoru blurted out, “Do you think the stars can hear us?”

“What?” You stared at him.

“The stars,” he said seriously, pointing upward. “Do you think they grant wishes, like gods or something?”

“That’s stupid,” you muttered, but you couldn’t hide the faint curl of amusement on your lips. “They’re just balls of gas.”

“Well, maybe those gas balls are listening,” he said, sticking his tongue out. “You don’t know everything. Maybe they are hearing us right now.”

You opened your mouth to retort but froze. A memory seemed to resurface…

“I still don’t know why you decided to keep the child!” a deep voice was screeching at another, soft one.

“I don’t know what came over me, I swear!”“It is the spawn of Satan himself! I respect you for what you have been through, but it is time to dispose of her.”

“Dispose? You don’t mean—”

Large hands came your way to muffle the screams from your mouth.

Your fingers clenched the windowsill.

“They didn’t hear me before,” you said quietly, almost to yourself.

“What?” Satoru noticed the change in your tone, and turned to look at you, his brow furrowing. “Who? The balls?”

You shook your head quickly. “Never mind. Forget I said anything.”

But Satoru wasn’t one to let things go. “Hey,” he said softly. “You can tell me. I mean, if you want.”

His sincerity made your chest tighten. Normally, after the word ‘balls’, he would have made a bad joke about male anatomy. But he seemed to have read the room enough to shut up. You looked at him, his bright blue eyes watching you with genuine concern. For a moment, you thought about telling him. But then, the weight of it all felt too heavy to share. He was too young, too shielded from the horrors of the world to be able to handle any of it anyway.

“It’s nothing,” you muttered. “Just something dumb I used to believe.”

Satoru opened his mouth to argue, then seemed to think better of it. Instead, he smiled gently and nudged your shoulder. “Okay. But if you ever want to talk about dumb things, I’m here. You know, I’m dumb, so…” he tried making the joke you always did.

You didn’t know how to respond to that, so you simply nodded. The two of you sat in silence for a little while longer, watching the stars. Finally, Satoru stretched and hopped down from the ledge.

“Goodnight,” he said, giving you a lopsided grin. “And happy birthday.”

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the warmth in his voice. “You too,” you said softly.

As he closed the door as softly as he could behind him, you stared out at the stars, wondering if maybe, just maybe, they had started listening after all.

──── ୨ৎ ────

The sound of hooves clattering against the cobblestone path filled the air as the royal carriage swayed gently on its way to the prestigious School of Royalty. The morning sun cast a golden glow on the lush green fields outside, but inside, the atmosphere was both tense and excited.

“You know,” Satoru began, leaning lazily against the plush velvet seat, “I heard there’s a whole batch of new exchange students joining today. Rumor is, one of them’s from the Silver Crescent Kingdom. Ever seen anyone from there? They’re supposed to have that, uh… ‘ethereal glow.’ You think that’s real, or just something people say?”

You barely glanced up from the notebook in your lap, furrowing your brows as you paused your incoherent babbling of equations. “If you spent half as much time studying for the exam as you do gossiping, maybe you wouldn’t need to cheat off me later.”

He smirked, unbothered. “Cheat? Me? I’m offended. I’m just naturally brilliant.”

“And naturally annoying,” you muttered, flipping to another page of hastily scribbled notes.

Satoru ignored the jab, his grin widening. At fifteen, he’d grown into someone who couldn’t step into a room without people swooning for his attention. You guessed it was just a Gojo thing he inherited from his mother. The girls adored him — some from afar, others more boldly (you still cringe remembering that one time a girl with a sorry excuse of a top was taken away by your guards for trying to get a kiss from him last year) — and the boys either envied or wanted to be him. The name “Satoru Gojo” seemed to be whispered wherever he went, and he couldn’t be happier.

You, on the other hand, had decided that the attention you receive at your house was enough to satisfy you for a lifetime, and you would rather spend your time learning something new — at least, that’s what you told your mother; that you would rather cry over your grades than guys, to which Satoru had cleverly remarked, “Why not both?” earning a glare from his mother. While you did have friends, and you did seem to be friendly with everyone around you, you would watch in dismay when most of these friends would recite their love stories, and you had nothing to share. The boys barely noticed you, too busy being gay over Satoru. But you had your books, your achievements, and the satisfaction of knowing you didn’t need anyone’s approval.

“And get this,” Satoru continued, his excitement growing. “I heard one of them’s some kind of prodigy. Like, they mastered advanced magic when they were ten. Can you imagine? Finally, someone who might be able to keep up with me. They’re a senior too, so I want to see the look on their face when they realize I’m better than them.”

“Mhm,” you replied distractedly, not bothering to look up. You were too busy with the definition of archaic spellcasting principles and the formulas for mana stabilization to muster a reply of more than a single syllable. The exam was in less than an hour, and the thought of failing even one question sent a jolt of anxiety through you.

Satoru leaned forward, peering at your notes upside down. “What’s that? Something about magic circles? You’re still on those? I mastered those ages ago.”

You snapped your notebook shut and shot him a glare. “You didn’t ‘master’ anything. You just wing it and hope for the best.”

“Hey, it works, doesn’t it?” He shrugged. “Besides, you’ll cover for me if I mess up. That’s what partners are for.”

“We’re not partners.”

“Sure we are,” he said breezily. “Partners in crime. Mischief-makers extraordinaire. The unbeatable duo.” He winked, and you rolled your eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t fall out of your head.

The carriage hit a bump, causing you to clutch your notes tighter. Satoru, unfazed, lounged back in his seat and stared out of the window. “You know, you should relax a little. Exams aren’t life or death.”

“For you, maybe. Some of us don’t have a safety net made of charm and raw talent.”

He laughed, the sound warm and unguarded. “Wow, you really think I’m charming and talented? Thanks, baby.”

You didn’t dignify that dumb statement with a response. Instead, you turned your attention back to your notes, determined to make use of every second you had left.

The carriage began to slow, signaling their arrival at the school gates. Satoru straightened, his excitement palpable. “Here we go. Time to make an impression. Think the exchange students are going to swoon over me?”

“Only if they have no taste,” you muttered, gathering your things.

He grinned, standing and offering you a hand as the carriage came to a stop. “Come on, don’t be such a poopy.”

You cringed again before taking his hand, letting him help you down. The moment your feet touched the ground, the buzz of the school grounds surrounded you. Students swarmed the entrance, chattering excitedly about everything from the new arrivals to last-minute cramming for the exam.

Satoru strode ahead confidently, while you lingered a step behind, clutching your notes tightly. He glanced at you, running back to catch up with you. “Where’s Kuro? He’s supposed to be part of the dramatic entrance I had planned.”

“I sent him away. He was annoying me with the confetti.” “You— WHAT?”

You ignored him, continuing to walk up the stairs leading to your exam hall without looking up at anyone. Satoru jogged beside you.

“We haven’t met with any of the exchange students yet!” “Satoru, if you want to, then leave.”

He pouted, planting your face in front of yours above your notes. “You know I won’t leave you.”

“Then stay quiet and let me study.” “Alright, alright,” he said, sighing. He stared at you for a few moments, pacing around the hall with you while you muttered curses under your breath. He smiled. You always hated this one subject but felt the need to excel in it anyway. “Hey,” he said softly. “You’ll do great, you know.”

The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, but you masked it with a scoff. “You’d better hope so. If I fail, you’ll fail too.”

He laughed again, a sound as effortless as everything else about him. “That’s true. Can’t impress anyone with an F on the paper, can I?” The loud bell rang, and Satoru moved to cover your ears with the palms of his hands. “I’ve got you covered, princess. In return, you must guarantee that I pass.”

You smiled a genuine smile at him, something you had gotten quite used to doing in the past four years you had spent with your new family. “I can’t guarantee that. Let’s go, I’m done now.”

His eyes widened comically, “What do you mean you can’t guarantee that?” You laughed at him, and he snatched your notebook from your hands. “Give me that! Oh god. I’m doomed, aren’t I?”

“Yup, let’s go now.”

The exam hall echoed with the sound of faint murmurs and the occasional nervous coughs. While theory had been nerve-wracking, at least you had been able to cram for it. But the practicals? They were a whole different beast. No amount of late-night revisions could prepare you for actual spellwork.

You clutched your wand tightly, its polished surface cold and smooth against your clammy palms. The examiner called your name, and your stomach flipped. Taking a deep breath, you stepped forward. What were the steps again? Swing your wand, say the words, and hope for the best.

You stood before the enchanted apparatus. It was a simple magical round glass that would respond to the accuracy of your spell, changing its colour accordingly. The orb pulsed softly, steams of gas floating stilly in its interior, waiting. You were supposed to transfigure a cactus into a goblet full of water. The room was silent, dozens of eyes boring into your back.

Why did they have to make everyone do the practicals individually, and on stage?

You closed your eyes briefly, mustering every ounce of focus. With a flick of your wand and the carefully practiced words spilling from your lips, you executed the spell. Wand still in the air, you waited. And waited. And waited. Nothing happened. Then, the orb glowed a brilliant gold.

“Perfect!” The elderly professor cried, clasping her hands together. She really liked you. “Next, please.”

Relief washed over you, and you felt a disbelieving smile creep onto your face. Scooting off the stage, you climbed down the stairs to your seat. You caught Satoru’s eye and mouthed, Good luck. He was slouching on his chair, winking at you and giving you a lazy thumbs-up.

Just as you sat down, you noticed your gaze didn’t leave him. You kept looking at him, how effortlessly good he looked in his outfit, sunglasses perched languidly on his nose. He was looking straight ahead at the stage above, and you glanced at the front too. Shoko got a pale yellow glow from the orb, an easy B.

Your eyes wandered to the girl in line ahead of Satoru. You recognized her instantly, how could you not? Wavy chestnut hair that caught the light just so, impeccable posture, an air of confidence that bordered on smug, and her pink lips upright looking behind her. She was from one of the distant kingdoms—brilliant in class, annoyingly charming, and unfortunately, quite pretty. And right now, she seemed pretty happy about being positioned so close to Satoru.

It was the way she was smiling at Satoru that irritated you. Not the polite, fleeting kind of smile you’d give a classmate. No, this was different. She tilted her head slightly, her lips curved in a way that made even you highly uncomfortable. You saw her fingers brush a strand of hair behind her ear — twice, because apparently once wasn’t enough — and she leaned just a fraction closer to him.

You squinted. Was she flirting? She was flirting. Yuck. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, but your jaw tightened. Getting up sneakily from your seat, you joined the crowd they stood with to spy on the two.

“I hear the examiners this year are super strict,” she said, her voice soft and lilting. “Not that you need to worry. I’ve seen you in dueling practice — you’re incredible,” she sighed at him dramatically, eyes turned to hearts.

Satoru blinked at her, then scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, thanks? I guess?”

She laughed — too loud for a casual compliment. “You’re so modest! That’s so rare, you know.” Her eyes sparkled as she stared up at him, clearly hoping he’d reciprocate the energy.

He didn’t. “Modest? Me?” Satoru’s tone was laced with genuine confusion, his brow furrowing slightly. “You sure you’re talking about the right guy?”

You saw Geto, his best friend, stifle a laugh at that, but you didn’t find any of this funny. Geto caught your eye and immediately stopped laughing, trying to inch closer to Satoru to warn him of your incoming wrath.

But the girl kept blocking his way.

“Oh, absolutely,” she said smoothly, leaning in even closer. “I bet you’ll get top marks, as always. You must have so many admirers.”

Your grip on your wand tightened. You might not be as violent as Satoru when it came to dueling, but you couldn’t care less about that at the moment. Nor did you seem to notice the sheer number of students surrounding you.

Satoru, as usual, was utterly oblivious. “Admirers? I sure hope so,” he said with a shrug. “But thanks, I guess?”

You wanted to shake him. How could he not see what she was doing? The way her voice softened whenever she said his name, how her lashes fluttered just a bit too much when she looked at him — it was painfully obvious. And yet, Satoru treated her like he treated everyone else: polite, casual, and just detached enough to make it clear he wasn’t interested.

“Next!” called the examiner, and the girl’s name echoed through the hall.

She turned to Satoru with a dazzling smile. “Wish me luck?”

“Uh, good luck?” he said, scratching his head.

You were half a second away from gagging, Geto slipping from beside Satoru to join you, both of you dissing the situation in hushed whispers.

As she walked away, you muttered under your breath, “Unbelievable.”

Geto muttered, equally frustrated, but this was pointed towards Satoru, “Unbelievable indeed.”

Your eyes followed the movements of her wand, and you tried to calculate the exact angle by which she tilted her wand too high, the length by which her hand movement went wrong and the distance between her wrist and the cactus assigned to her. Geto shook his head at your overly focused expression.

A loud pop filled the air, followed by startled squeaks. Your eyes widened. The examiners scrambled around, now very much turned into rats! The girl froze, her wand dangling uselessly at her side as laughter rippled through the room.

You bit your lip. What were you supposed to be feeling right now? Secondhand embarrassment or vindication? Serves her right, you thought, though a small part of you almost pitied her. Almost.

The headmaster, who had been watching the whole ordeal with an amused expression, quickly restored order, probably glad he wasn’t turned into a mouse or something. He dismissed the rest of the students and awarded automatic A’s to those who hadn’t gone yet.

You groaned and Geto laughed at you, a grimacing Shoko dangling from his arm. Together, the three of you were about to leave the hall when Satoru caught up with you, grinning like he’d just won the lottery. “Wild. Best exam ever. I didn’t even have to do anything!”

You shot him a sideways glance, your mood souring again. “Yeah, lucky you.”

“Wait, are you mad?” he asked, peering at you. “You’re mad. Why are you mad?”

“I’m not mad,” you said shortly, walking faster, waving goodbye to Geto, who was now left alone to deal with a hungry kitten, Shoko.

“You’re definitely mad,” he teased, catching up. “What, is it because I got an A without lifting a finger? Don’t worry, you’ll get to cheat off my usual genius self next time. Maybe you’ll even get an A+++++++ because of me… or whatever the highest grade is.”

“Right,” you said, rolling your eyes. “You’re so modest,” you mimicked the girl from earlier, but he didn’t get the reference.

At break, you sat under the shade of a tree, quietly eating your snack and watching the courtyard buzz with post-exam chatter. Across the lawn, the girl was crying into her boyfriend’s shoulder, her wails loud enough to carry. You frowned, unsure whether to feel sorry for or annoyed at her.

Her boyfriend, a tall, broad-shouldered guy from her kingdom, seemed to be comforting her, rubbing her back and murmuring reassurances. Weird, you thought. He doesn’t even know he’s worse than Satoru in her eyes.

The suspension had been swift: four months for reckless and dangerous spellcasting. Watching her now, you couldn’t muster much sympathy. It was one thing to fail; it was another to fail so dramatically. It’s what she deserves.

Satoru plopped down beside you, unwrapping a burger he’d somehow acquired (probably chased after Shoko to steal her food). “Hey, isn’t that, uh... Britney? No, wait, Bridget? Or... Burger?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Burger?”

“Yeah, burger,” he said, taking a huge bite and gesturing vaguely in her direction. “She’s got layers, y’know? Like a burger.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, shaking your head.

“C’mon, you gotta admit it’s funny,” he said, his grin widening. “She tries to turn on the charm, and bam! Instant ratification.”

You groaned at the pun, but laughter bubbled up anyway. Satoru’s dumb humor always had a way of disarming you.

“Heyyyyyyyy!” A voice dragged out, and you were met with a flash of dark blue hair before you were hugged tightly. “I heard your exam went great, but then, of course it did.” She patted your head. “Well done.”

“Thanks, Utahime.”

“No need to thank me,” Utahime pulled out your favourite chips from her bag and handed them to you.

“Hey, nothing for me?” Satoru wailed.

“Who the fuck are you?” “Rude.”

She ignored him and turned back to you. “Anyway, did you see any of the new exchange students? They’re good-looking.”

“So?” You munched on your chips.

“So,” she said loudly, shooing Satoru off to sit in his place next to you, “we can finally get you a boyfriend.”

Satoru snorted. “Boyfriend? Why does she need a boyfriend?”

“And,” she stepped on his foot with her heel and he skipped away across the courtyard, foot in his hand and muttering curses under his breath. “There’s that prodigy guy. You two could have been academic rivals if he was in your grade. Ugh, this is so annoying. Couldn’t he repeat a few classes? Dumbass.”

“Uh, I’m not interes—” “Yes, you are,” she looked at you with a wide, crazy smile as if daring you to disagree, and you gulped.“No wasting time watching couples break up,” she pointed at the girl in front of you, whose boyfriend seemed to have heard of the real reason she messed up her spell. Utahime lifted you by one arm and practically flew the yards to reach the main hall, where your assembly would take place to welcome the exchange students.

The assembly hall buzzed with anticipation, the crowd of students shifting restlessly as they filled the rows of wooden benches. Your arm still ached from Utahime dragging you all the way here. You, on the other hand, couldn’t help but feel drained—physically and emotionally.

The morning’s drama was still fresh in your mind, particularly the girl’s humiliating display. The idea of someone so brazenly cozying up to Satoru still gnawed at you. And now, you had to sit through an assembly to greet some mysterious prodigies who probably thought they were better than everyone else. Perfect.

“Sit here,” Utahime ordered, pointing to a spot near the front. “I need a good view.”

“Of what?” you asked, dropping onto the bench with a huff.

“Duh, the new guys. Maybe one of them will be your destined academic rival-slash-love interest,” she said dramatically, clasping her hands like a cheesy romance novel heroine.

You rolled your eyes. “I’m fine without one, thanks.”

“Oh, don’t be boring,” she said, plopping down beside you. “You need some excitement in your life. Besides, I heard some of the new guys are supposed to be really good-looking,” she whispered, leaning in as if discussing a conspiracy theory involving the Monarchy of Mars. “Like, model good-looking.”

You let out a noncommittal hum, tracing the edge of the seat in front of you with a finger. Utahime nudged you. “Don’t you care? Come on, aren’t you curious?”

“Not really,” you lied.

Utahime rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed. “Sure, sure. But if someone walks in here looking like a movie star, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Your gaze wandered to the double doors at the front of the hall, where the new students were supposed to enter. You didn’t care much about the guys. But what if there were girls? Pretty girls. The kind with perfect skin and perfect hair and that effortless grace you always seemed to lack.

Your stomach churned. Why were you even thinking about that?

You glanced at Utahime, still chattering away about rumors she’d heard excitedly. She was bouncing slightly in her seat, her eyes scanning the room like a hawk. But you couldn’t shake the thought — what if everyone thought the other girls were prettier? You could almost smell the break up stories your dozen friends would fetch for you because the new girls seemed hotter to the dung-nosed guys of your school.

“For the next few months, I will be stuck amidst boy troubles,” you muttered, glancing across the hall. Satoru had finally joined the crowd, sauntering in late as usual. He spotted you almost immediately and shot you a wink before sliding into a seat with Geto and Shoko.

Your stomach did an involuntary flip, but you shoved the feeling down. He was just being Satoru like always. That’s all it was.

Right?

The headmaster’s booming voice filled the hall. “Welcome, students, to this year’s exchange program orientation!”

The crowd settled as the headmaster launched into a long-winded speech about tradition, excellence, and the importance of collaboration between kingdoms. You zoned out almost immediately, your eyes drifting back to Satoru.

He was whispering something to Geto, who smirked and nudged him in the ribs. Shoko looked utterly disinterested, flipping through a medical journal she’d smuggled in. Typical.

You pulled your eyes away from them. The last time you had zoned out in class because of him, your mood had been soured for the whole following hour. The sound of applause gave you an excuse out of your reverie. The exchange students were being introduced now, stepping onto the stage one by one. They were all polished, confident, and, admittedly, quite impressive.

Utahime elbowed you sharply. “Look at that one!” she hissed, nodding toward a tall boy with striking blond hair and piercing brown eyes.

You blinked. “Looks like he walked out of a painting.”

“Exactly,” she said, smirking. “He’s perfect for you.”

You groaned. “Can we not do this right now?”

Utahime ignored you entirely, listing off reasons why he’d make a great boyfriend: “Smart, handsome, probably good at magic—”

“Definitely better at cactus transfiguration,” you muttered, earning a snort of laughter from her.

Meanwhile, Satoru had twisted around in his seat, craning his neck to see what the commotion was about. When his eyes landed on you and Utahime, his expression soured slightly. He didn’t like being left out, and it was written all over his face.

“Who’s better at cactus transfiguration?” He suddenly appeared behind you.

“None of your business,” Utahime shot back, sticking her tongue out.

“Wow, mature,” Satoru deadpanned.

The assembly droned on, with each exchange student introducing themselves in turn. You tried to pay attention, really, but your mind kept wandering. Utahime’s ridiculous matchmaking schemes. Satoru’s infuriatingly perfect smile. The girl’s earlier meltdown. It was all swirling together into a chaotic mess of emotions you didn’t have the energy to untangle.

Finally, the headmaster wrapped up his speech with a flourish. “Let’s give our guests a warm welcome!” he declared, prompting another round of applause.

As the crowd began to disperse, Utahime grabbed your arm again. “Come on, let’s go talk to him!”

“To who?” you asked, bewildered. “The blond-haired guy, obviously!”

“Absolutely not,” you said, digging your heels into the ground.

But before you could argue further, a familiar voice interrupted.

“Leaving without saying hi? Rude.”

You turned to find Satoru standing behind you still, his trademark grin firmly in place.

Utahime groaned. “Go away, Gojo.”

“Can’t. I’m here to rescue my friend from your matchmaking madness,” he said, draping an arm over your shoulder.

You tried to shrug him off, but he held on tight, his presence annoyingly comforting.

“Why do you care?” Utahime shot back.

Satoru’s grin widened, but his tone was surprisingly serious. “Because she doesn’t need some random guy when she’s got me.”

He tugged you away, leaving Utahime fuming in his wake.

“Thanks for the save,” you mumbled once you were out of earshot.

“Anytime,” Satoru said lightly, though there was an edge to his voice you couldn’t quite place. “And besides, didn’t want you to end up with an annoying mother—”

You raised an eyebrow at him. Did he forget he was in a royal school where all the students and teachers were high-class nobles and the mere mention of vocabulary outside of the poshed-up ones exclusively for the rich would make him an infamous wreck in everyone’s eyes?

He caught your eye and continued, “—trucker.”

──── ୨ৎ ────

The dining table was as extravagant as ever, its polished surface reflecting the golden glow of the chandelier overhead. Plates were neatly arranged, and bowls of steaming food were placed in a perfect line down the centre. Mother sat at the head of the table, her posture so upright it made your back ache just looking at her. Across from her sat Father, whose stern expression was an almost permanent fixture at meals.

You occupied your usual spot, tucked between Satoru and his mother, a position that felt both safe and stifling. Satoru, of course, lounged in his chair as if it were a throne, pushing peas around his plate with one chopstick, clearly uninterested in the discussion at hand. It was peaceful and calm. But as soon as Satoru’s father set down his chopsticks, you knew this tranquillity wouldn’t last.

“Satoru,” his father began.

Satoru didn’t even look up, lazily poking at his food. “Uh oh. Here we go.”

“Don’t start,” his mother said sharply, and Satoru sighed dramatically, dropping his chopsticks like they were too heavy to hold.

“Fine. What is it this time? Did someone see me napping in class? Because, for the record, I was listening with my eyes closed.”

“Your instructor tells me your theoretical scores are excellent, as expected,” Satoru’s mother began, her sharp gaze sweeping across the table to land on him. “But your duel with Suguru during last week’s practice was... undisciplined.”

Satoru shrugged, not bothering to look up. “It’s not my fault Suguru got cocky.”

His father’s goblet hit the plate with a sharp clink. “And whose fault is it that you refuse to follow proper form? You’re not dueling for fun, Satoru. These exercises are meant to sharpen your skills for real combat.”

You could feel the tension grow, so you instinctively focused on the rice in your bowl. Satoru, however, leaned back in his chair, completely unfazed.

“Real combat isn’t about sticking to the rulebook,” he said lazily, resting an arm on the back of your chair. “It’s about adaptability.”

“That is not an excuse to showboat,” his mother snapped. “You might think you’re untouchable, but arrogance will get you killed one day.”

For a brief moment, something flickered in his eyes — irritation, maybe, or defiance — but he masked it with a grin. “Not likely.”

“Only because you’re naturally talented,” his mother interjected coldly. “Talent will only carry you so far, Satoru. You lack discipline, respect, and—”

“Manners,” his father finished, glaring at him.

His mother pinched the bridge of her nose. “All we’re trying to make you understand is, this isn’t a joke, Satoru. You’re supposed to be the strongest, and yet you’re constantly underperforming. Meanwhile, look at her.” She gestured to you, and your heart sank.

“Oh no,” you muttered under your breath.

“Look at her,” his mother repeated. “Top marks in every subject, excellent dueling reports, and the teachers can’t stop praising. Why can’t you be more like her?”

Satoru threw up his hands. “Because she’s a robot! Have you seen her handwriting? It’s terrifying!”

“I just have neat handwriting,” you mumbled defensively.

“Neat? It’s like a calligraphy competition on every page,” Satoru said, jabbing a chopstick at you. “She probably practices writing spells for fun.”

“She’s perfect,” his father said firmly, as if it were an unshakable fact of the universe.

“Exactly my point!” Satoru exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air. “How am I supposed to compete with that?!”

“You’ve been doing wonderfully,” his mother interrupted warmly, and you almost choked on your water. She reached to kiss your forehead and you felt fuzzy all over.

“Really?” you said hopefully.

“Yes,” his father agreed, nodding. “We’re very impressed with your progress. And your last dueling performance was flawless. Keep it up.”

Satoru’s jaw dropped. “What? That’s it? No lecture about being even better? No existential guilt trip?”

“She doesn’t need one,” his mother said simply.

“She’s already self-motivated,” his father added.

Satoru gawked at them, then at you. “Wait, are you seriously not going to roast her? Not even a little?”

His mother held up a hand to silence the banter. “Enough. We’re not here to discuss her. We’re here to discuss you and your inability to take anything seriously.”

“I take plenty of things seriously!” Satoru protested.

“Name one,” his father challenged.

Satoru opened his mouth, paused, then pointed to you. “Her.”

You nearly choked on your rice. “What?!”

“See? I take her academic success very seriously,” he continued smoothly. “She’s basically my tutor at this point. Without her, I’d probably be failing food transfiguration.”

“Food transfiguration is not the metric for success,” his father said dryly, but his lips twitched like he was trying not to laugh.

“And yet, it’s a class!” Satoru shot back. “A class I pass, thanks to her.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Please stop talking.”

“Never,” Satoru said cheerfully, ruffling your hair like you were a pet.

The room went silent for a beat, and then his father muttered, “Pass the rice.”

You couldn’t help but snort, quickly covering your mouth to stifle your laughter. Satoru’s grin widened, clearly taking your reaction as a victory.

“I’m serious about the food transfiguration, though,” he whispered to you as the conversation shifted. “You saved me from flunking that one.”

“By telling you to stop turning the chicken into a dinosaur?” you whispered back, rolling your eyes.

“Exactly. Genius advice.” Satoru sighed, slumping dramatically. "I swear, if I weren’t so charming, I’d be useless."

“You are,” you replied, teasing him with a grin.

──── ୨ৎ ────

The foreign exchange students filed into the classroom. You hadn’t met any of them yet, but the instant you saw a giggling pack of girls, dressed in a way that clearly screamed “I’m a tourist, please give me attention,” take seats scattered around the room, you knew this would be a long class. They were chatting loudly, condescending smiles on their faces and prissy postures to back it up. One of them locked eyes with you and stood up.

The girl scanned the room, perhaps trying to find something to shift the attention of the bustling and noisy class to her. Sitting beside you, Geto didn’t even flinch as the girl cleared her throat loudly. You could feel it. She was about to open her mouth.

And open it she did.

“Do you guys feel,” she addressed her fellow exchange people, “that the culture here is a bit… Well, I don’t know what you'd call it. Primitive, I guess? It’s like they just dug it up from some ancient ruins," she said, waving a hand dismissively, as if she were talking about a dusty artefact. “This whole— uhm— ‘honour’ thing? So outdated. I didn’t find any such codes on how to behave in the culture of the South, or the West, or the South-West. Maybe it is because the people here still need to be taught manners, I suppose.”

The other students, contrary to what she had hoped, didn’t pay any attention to her. They didn’t seem to have heard her, because if they had… well, all of them were from noble clans, of course they would have a problem with it.

The girl didn’t seem to notice. Or care.

“You there!” She screeched at you, coming to a halt in front of your desk after pacing around like she was delivering an important lecture. “I heard you’re the top student. Representative, or something, they told me. Like—” she turned to face you more directly, suddenly noticing the lack of a surname on your badge “—wow, you don’t even have a last name. I heard you were from the Gojo clan. But, I mean, you don’t even have their surname? Were you picked up from some ditch or something?”

You flushed. Most of the students were tactful enough to not point that out to you, and if they did, they would return with a bruise soon after, credit to Satoru. But Satoru was in the hospital wing right now, and thankfully so, because you didn’t want him making a scene here in the middle of your Charms class. Geto’s fingers brushed lightly against your arm; he was trying to calm you down. He didn’t need to say anything; you already knew what he was thinking.

Shoko, sitting in front of you, shifted in her seat. Her fingers twitched toward her coat pocket, and you could swear you felt a chill run down your spine at the look she had on her face. Shoko’s glare was murderous, and her hand slowly moved to her doctor’s tools — just a few inches away from hurling them at the girl’s smug face.

“Don’t bother,” Geto murmured under his breath. “Let her go on. She’s not worth the energy.” His eyes never left you as he spoke, a detached smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Ignore her, Shoko.”

The girl leaned on your desk as you continued to determinedly stare at a spot on your notebook

“Oh, but wait,” she continued haughtily, “you must’ve been a mistake. I mean, the Gojo clan leaders, right? They couldn’t possibly have any sense of judgement, could they? Considering who their son is, who he’s raised by. They probably just took in anyone, huh? Just to fill the numbers. I bet they didn’t even care to see if you had any real worth.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Geto interrupted her calmly, his smile widening, a maddenned look in his eyes. “If you don’t stop right now, you might have to deal with a curse or two, because I’m not exactly one to be afraid of duelling in front of teachers.”

Alina was unfazed, leaning back in her chair with a smirk plastered across her face. “Oh, I so do. You can’t silence me. The Gojo clan is only famous because they have money and influence — nothing more.” She leaned forward again, her eyes narrowing. “And the leaders? They’re a joke. All that power, and they still let their precious son — what’s his name? Satoru? —play around like the child he is. Tell me, do you ever wonder if he’s actually good for anything besides being the ‘chosen one?’ Or is it just another piece of their precious family’s empire?”

No.

That was it.

You snapped. Your body moved before your brain could catch up. Pulling out your wand from your pocket, you let the cold tip touch her throat. The girl immediately shut up, caught off guard and not having the time to reach her own wand, which was kept on the table her friends were sitting at.

“What’s wrong? Can’t speak? I’d love to hear more from that croak of a voice you possess. Please, go on with your pathetic guesses about my lineage.”

“Don’t,” Geto warned, but you were too blinded by the ringing echo of her words about your family. Shoko was already gripping the side of her desk, looking like she wanted to step in.

“You want me to speak more?” The girl said. “I can speak more. Because I know what you are. I would have felt sorry for you if you weren’t so stuck up though. As they say, no power, no future.”

Before you could retort, or even say a quick charm to freeze her throat so it snapped in half, the door flew open, and a voice interrupted your anger.

"Both of you, in my office. Now."

It was the teacher, standing in the doorway, arms crossed, clearly fed up. Without missing a beat, you spun on your heel, flicking a glance at Geto and Shoko.

──── ୨ৎ ────

It was oddly quiet in the headmaster’s office. You sat alone at the desk, gloves pulled snug over your hands, a rag in one and a half-polished trophy in the other. The cleaning did little to distract you from the frustration you felt.

The headmaster’s words still rang in your ears: “Detention builds character, and perhaps a lesson in self-control will serve you well.”

Self-control. As if it was your fault someone had insulted your family.

The soft creak of the door interrupted your thoughts. You stilled, expecting the headmaster to return and scold you for slacking off. Instead, a familiar white head of hair peeked around the doorframe.

"What the—" you hissed. "Are you insane? If someone catches you here—"

“Wow. You, of all people, getting detention?”

Satoru leaned casually against the doorframe, his arms crossed and a lazy smirk on his face.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, your voice sharper than you intended.

“Came to pick you up,” he said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Kuro was freaking out because he didn’t know why we weren’t at the gates, so I told him to head home without us.”

“You didn’t have to—”

“Relax. He’s used to me pulling stuff like this.” Satoru strolled into the room, glancing around with mild interest before his eyes landed on the pile of trophies waiting to be polished. “So... what’s the story? Did you finally snap and hex someone?”

You rolled your eyes, turning back to the trophy in front of you. “Shouldn’t you be hiding somewhere? I mean, you’re not supposed to be here after school.”

“Oh, I’m cutting it. I figured detention with you would be more fun.”

You ignored him, hoping he’d get bored and leave, but Satoru was never one to take a hint. He perched on the edge of the desk beside you.

“Come on,” he said, nudging your arm lightly. “Tell me what happened.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, refusing to look at him. “Nothing. Just... a disagreement.”

“A disagreement?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow. “That’s all you’re giving me?”

You stayed silent, scrubbing furiously at a nonexistent smudge on the trophy. But your hands were shaking slightly, and he noticed.

His teasing expression softened. “Hey,” he said quietly, leaning closer and nuzzling your hair. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you said quickly, but the crack in your voice betrayed you. You cursed under your breath, setting the trophy down harder than you intended.

“Right,” Satoru said dryly. “You know lying is a sin, right?”

Before you could stop him, he reached out and plucked the rag from your hand. You opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off with a firm look.

“Enough,” he said, tossing the rag onto the desk. He grabbed your hands, tugging the gloves off gently, his touch warm and steady against your cold fingers.

“Satoru, what are you—”

“Helping,” he said simply.

You stared at him, your breath hitching slightly as he held your hands in his. His grip was firm but gentle, his thumbs brushing over your knuckles.

“You shouldn’t have done it,” he said after a moment, his voice quieter now. “Gotten detention, I mean.”

Your throat tightened, and you looked away. “I didn’t even do much. I just threatened her, ‘s all—”

“I know,” he said. “But you didn’t have to stand up for me like that.”

“Yes, I did.” The words came out sharper than you intended, but you didn’t care. “She had no right to talk about your family like that. Or mine,” you added quietly.

Satoru’s expression softened, and he sighed, letting go of your hands only to pull you into a hug. Your breath stopped. It was so sudden and unexpected, but his arms around you were so warm and secure, and for a moment, you forgot just how cold the office was.

“Thank you,” he murmured against your hair. “For putting us first.”

You swallowed hard, your face pressed against his shoulder. You could feel his heartbeat. His vanilla scent filled your nostrils, and you couldn’t help but sigh at the sensation.

Just what were you feeling?

He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. The gesture was so gentle, so unexpected, that it sent a shiver down your spine. Goosebumps prickled along your arms, and your breath caught in your throat. Eyes widening on his chest.

Satoru pulled back slightly, his hands still resting lightly on your shoulders. He studied your face for a moment, his gaze searching, before giving you a small, crooked smile.

“Alright there?” he asked softly.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. His smile widened, and he gave your shoulders a reassuring squeeze before stepping back.

“Good,” he said, picking up your gloves and the rag you had abandoned. “Because I think it’s my turn to polish these things. You’ve done enough.”

You blinked at him, confused. “You can’t just—”

“Too late.” He waved the rag dramatically, grinning. “Go sit down and relax. Perfect students need to take a break to be imperfect once in a while.”

Despite yourself, a smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He waved you off, already humming to himself as he began scrubbing.

──── ୨ৎ ────

You sat with your detention homework in your garden after the headmaster had insisted on giving you some more ‘punishments’ for letting Satoru in his office. On the stone bench, you glared at the crumpled detention slip in your hands. The words from earlier still rang in your ears.

Wow, you don’t even have a last name. I heard you were from the Gojo clan. But, I mean, you don’t even have their surname? Were you picked up from some ditch or something?

You must've been a mistake

The nerve of that girl, whatever her name was. She had no right to talk like that. But as much as you hated to admit it, her words dug deep. Why didn’t you have the surname? Why were you even here?

You sighed, staring down at your hands, throwing the slip away and watching it skid between bushes. The gate creaked, pulling you from your thoughts. Satoru’s mother stepped into the garden. She always seemed to know when something was wrong.

She smiled warmly as she approached. “Trouble at school?”

You let out a small huff, tossing the detention homework onto the bench. “Some girl decided to remind me I don’t belong here,” you muttered. “She’s not wrong. I mean, I don’t even have your family name. I’m just... here.”

Her expression softened, and she sat down beside you. “Suguru told me it was someone from the Kamo clan. She said that, did she?”

You nodded. “She made it sound like I’m just some random stray you all picked up out of pity.”

A shadow flickered across her face, but she stayed silent for a moment, as if weighing her words carefully. Then she sighed softly and folded her hands neatly in her lap. “You don’t carry the Gojo surname yet because... you aren’t meant to. One day, you will.”

You were confused. “One day? What are you talking about?”

Her gaze softened further, and she reached for your hand. “You’re not here because of pity. You’re here because I care for you deeply. You’re family to me. And... well, you’re engaged, my dear. To Satoru.”

The words hit you like a thunderclap. “Engaged?” you whispered.

She nodded gently. “It was my decision. Not to strengthen ties or fulfill some tradition — I couldn’t bear the thought of marrying you off to anyone else. You’re important to me, and to this family. No one else would cherish you the way you deserve. No one else would love you the way I know he can.”

Your head was spinning. Engaged? To Satoru? The same Satoru who stole your dessert, teased you relentlessly, and drove you up the wall with his arrogance?

“Does he know?” you managed to ask.

A small, amused smile tugged at her lips. “Not yet. I’m waiting for the right time to tell him. You know how he is — he’d probably react with some ridiculous joke or dismiss it entirely without thinking it through.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “You mean I’m supposed to sit on this bombshell while he’s running around like an overgrown child?”

She chuckled softly, reaching over to pat your shoulder. “It’s not so bad. You’ve already grown close to him, haven’t you?”

Close. You couldn’t deny it. In the past few years, you had gone from tolerating his antics to — well, something. The butterflies in your stomach betrayed you every time he smiled or stood too close.

But this? This was too much.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” you asked weakly, peeking through your fingers.

“I wanted you to have time to figure out your feelings without the weight of this hanging over you,” she admitted. “And... I wasn’t entirely sure when you’d be ready to hear it. But seeing you upset, questioning your place here, I couldn’t keep it from you any longer. Forgive me, darling.” She stood then. “You’re exactly where you’re meant to be,” she said gently. “Never let anyone make you doubt that.”

And with that, she disappeared back into the house, leaving you alone with the truth.

Engaged. To Satoru.

The butterflies in your stomach weren’t just fluttering now—they were staging a full-on rebellion. You let out a groan, slumping back against the bench.

──── ୨ৎ ────

Over a year had passed. The two of you were turning seventeen the next year, and with the increase in your age, the load of schoolwork increased too. The School of Royalty had seen so many changes. They were rebuilding the duelling grounds and organising even more clubs than before. Girls were mysteriously beginning to drop out of school, and you didn’t want to know why. There were less than ten girls in your class of fifty, and you figured this number would reduce even more as women in nobility were hurriedly married off to distant kingdoms, forced to give up their education to serve as a showpiece for the men to flaunt.

You were thankful the Gojo clan saw you as more than that, or you wouldn’t have been in the same class as your friends this year. You couldn’t bear not seeing Utahime, Shoko, Suguru and of course, Satoru.

Satoru.

The one you had realized you didn’t want if he wasn’t looking at you at all times, if he wasn’t talking to you at all times, or cracking jokes to you at all times. The one you had realized you wanted more of, more than what the two of you are now, more than what you two have ever been, more than friends, more than best friends; you wanted him more than anything in the world. Him, him, him, him. You wanted his eyes on you, his hands on you. You wanted everything about him. Everything. Every single thing—

“Hey, you alive?” His voice snapped you back to reality.

“Huh? Oh yeah.”

“I was saying,” he pulled a girl towards him by her hands and she landed on his chest with a dull thump. “This is Alina.”

You stared at her. Triumphant looking face, lips giggling into the broad layer of his front.

Wait.Wasn’t she—?

“You might remember her,” Satoru pressed. You did. Vividly.

Oh.

“She needs some duelling practice apparently, so she’s gonna be watching us from there,” he points at the stands. “Hope you don’t mind.”

“Oh, yeah, it’s okay,” you said in a voice you didn’t know you owned. The words felt so heavy on your tongue, as if it was an entirely different person speaking them.

“Great, thanks,” he ushered the girl back to the stands and leaned down to kiss the top of your forehead again. You blinked.

Oh, no, he didn’t see it like that at all.To him, it was just a gesture he had grown used to doing. Yeah.

You stood across from him on the training field, your stance ready and tense. The sunlight was bright today, almost too bright, and you didn’t know if it was the heat or the sudden emptiness you felt. Satoru smiled at you, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“You ready?” he asked, voice nonchalant. It wasn’t the usual teasing edge. The spark was missing.

You nodded.

“I’ve got you today, Gojo,” you tried making the dumb jokes he used to make. You weren’t sure if it was working, but you tried anyway.

The sparring session started, but something felt wrong. Satoru’s movements were slower than usual, his focus elsewhere. He kept glancing at the stands from time to time, as if trying to see if she was watching him. He didn’t block your attack in time, letting you knock him down with ease.

“You alright?” You bent down to help him up, but he just waved you off, a tight smile on his face.

“Yeah, yeah. Just… tired, I guess,” he shrugged, avoiding your eyes.

Alina came running down the stands, her hands clutched on her chest, fussing over him while he waved her off too, getting up.

“Another one?” “No, thank you.”

That was the first time you had ever said no to him.

──── ୨ৎ ────

Later that week, you walked into the cafeteria, hoping to find Utahime and grab a quick meal before your History class. You were halfway into the queue before you realized Utahime had Charms class right now. After all, she was a senior of yours; she would have more schoolwork than you. So you were about to take the tray you got to one of the empty tables alone, hoping to find someone else.

And you did find someone. Satoru sat across from Alina as comfortable as ever. They looked like they were on a date. Was this why he had skipped a class he had with you?

“Oh, hey,” he greeted you when you approached, but his voice lacked its usual warmth. There was a coolness in it, like he wasn’t really there.

The girl’s voice broke into the silence, bright and too eager. “I was just telling Satoru about how I’m finally starting to get the hang of wand control now. I know he’s been busy with other stuff, but he’s still managed to help me out.”

You felt the hairs on your neck prickle.

“That's great,” you said, keeping your tone neutral. “I'm sure Satoru is happy to help.”

You tried to keep your expression even as you sat down on their table. Wrong choice. Satoru, oblivious or indifferent, didn’t seem to notice any sort of tension in the air. He smiled, nodding along to whatever the girl was saying, while you forced a smile and picked at your food.

You felt like an outsider.

──── ୨ৎ ────

That same week, after a banquet of the noble families held at the Gojo clan’s immaculate residence, you were walking alone towards the girls’ dorms when you overheard two voices seemingly arguing calmly. You pressed an ear onto the door hiding the people.

“You don’t seem to realize your Alina is the same girl who was insulting your own family,” Suguru was saying. “She got us into trouble too. You weren’t there so you don’t know how bad she talked about—”

“I know she’s not like how she was before,” Satoru interrupted loudly. “And I know you guys still have a problem with her, but you’ve got to trust me, okay? She’s changed.”

Your heart sank. “Changed?” Suguru repeated bitterly. “Really? After everything she said about the Gojo clan?”

He didn’t reply right away, but when he finally spoke, it was with that soft, almost apologetic tone.

“I get it. I really do. But she’s… trying, okay? She’s not the same person.”

You clenched your jaw, your hands trembling slightly at your sides. You felt numb all over. Uprooting one leg from your position, you walked backwards, away from your heartbreak.

“I don’t know if I can believe that, Satoru. Not after everything she did.” “I know, but please. Try, for me?”

Your back hit the pillar and you stopped. Slowly lifting feet one after the other, you walked. You didn’t know where you were walking to, but you just walked. You didn’t know what hurt more: the fact that he was asking you to trust her, or the fact that you wanted to — because you trusted him so much.

“There you are!” Utahime caught up to you. “Where did you go? How can you get lost in your own house—” You lifted your face up to her, and she looked taken aback. She inhaled, wiping tears you never realized started falling after stinging your eyes so bad, and she asked in an uncharacteristically soft voice. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“Utahime—” your voice broke.

──── ୨ৎ ────

You were walking down the school halls, your mind preoccupied with your own thoughts as you made your way to the classroom. The noise of chatter and the shuffle of students faded into the background, making you realize you were starting to zone out again. You seemed to do that a lot these days.

“And I just know it will be you!” Alina’s voice cut through, syrupy, too sweet to be sincere. You froze, stopping behind a pillar. They were standing conveniently near the same path you had to cross to get to your class. Great. Now you had to bite back any snide remarks you had because poor Satoru would be upset if you didn’t.

You peeked out. Alina was leaning against the wall, her laughter light and airy as she spoke to Satoru, who was right beside her, looking at her with that familiar, careless smile he used to reserve for you, one that you had now grown to hate.

You could hear her complimenting him, the way she laughed too loudly at every word of his. “Oh, Satoru, your technique today was amazing, as always! I honestly don’t know just how you do it.” Her tone was sugary, and you cringed. You wanted to look away, but something held you in place, as if some invisible force was gripping you to that spot, making you watch the scene in front of you with red eyes and darkness underneath them.

Then you heard his voice. “Come on, Alina, you’re making me blush,” he chuckled playfully. He was oblivious, as usual (or maybe he wasn’t, and he truly trusted this woman more than his friends). But you weren’t. You noticed how her hands lingered on his arm a little too long, how her fingers curled around his sleeve possessively.

You couldn’t breathe.

You turned, hoping to slip past unnoticed, but of course, she caught sight of you. There was a flicker of something dark in her eyes before she forced a smile onto her face, calling out in that voice that made your skin crawl.

“Oh, hey!” she chirped, calling out your name. “You don’t mind sharing, do you?”

The words hit you like a slap. You were caught between disbelief and anger. How dare she speak to you like that? You glanced at Satoru, hoping he would interject, but he didn’t. He was too busy focusing his attention on her like a complete idiot.

You looked down at the floor, clenching your teeth. “You can have him,” you muttered. You didn’t want to show her how much it hurt, but it was all too clear in your voice and actions.

Alina’s smile faltered for a split second, her eyes narrowing. “Oh, are you sure?” she said, “I’m sure Satoru wouldn’t mind at all. He’s such a generous guy.”

You could hear her subtle challenge, the way she was almost daring you to react. But you didn’t give her the satisfaction. Instead, you straightened up, forcing the words out with a calmness you didn’t feel.

“I’m sure,” you said simply. Not waiting for a response, you turned on your heel and walked away as quickly as you could, your heart pounding in your chest.

Behind you, you could feel her eyes on your back, but you refused to turn around.

You hated her. You hated the way she acted so confident. You hated how she was so entitled. And you hated how Satoru, in all his charm and glory, refused to hear a word against her; how he couldn’t see the way she was trying to wedge herself between not only the two of you but also your entire friend group.

It was always this way, wasn’t it? The more you wanted him, the farther he seemed to slip out of reach.

──── ୨ৎ ────

After a three hour long soak in your bathtub, you decided it was time to go back into your room without anyone noticing. You spent most of your time hiding away from everyone; your parents, your servants, and him anyway, so you doubted anyone would miss you. With a sigh, you wore your nightdress and pushed your bedroom door open.

Satoru was sitting on your bed, his chin in his palms as he stared at the floor, clearly deep in thought and waiting for you to return. The moment you walked in, his gaze snapped to you, and the tension in the room tripled.

“You’re back,” he said. There was something in his voice — you couldn’t point out what exactly it was, but you didn’t like how it made you feel.

“What are you doing in my room?” The words came out harsher than you had intended them to be.

He didn’t answer right away; just sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his face before standing up and facing you fully. “Why are you always so mean to her?” His voice was quieter now, more frustrated than usual.

You blinked, taken aback. "Mean to whom?" you asked, trying to play dumb.

“Alina,” he said. “Why do you always treat her like that?”

You controlled the urge to roll your eyes, though you knew Satoru expected you to. You wanted to scream, but you held it back, just barely. “Oh, you mean the girl who’s been constantly hovering around you? The one who acts like she owns you?” You crossed your arms defensively. “Sorry, I didn’t realize I was supposed to cheer her on and clap for every little thing she does.”

Satoru scoffed, taking his face in his hands before looking up again. “You don’t have to be so cold all the time! Can’t you just try to get along with her? She’s changed. Why can’t you just see that?”

“Changed?” You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing at his innocence. “She’s the same girl who insulted your family. She insulted everything you stand for, everything you care about, and you think she’s changed? Are you seriously that blind?”

His eyes darkened, and he gritted his teeth. “You’re always so hung up on the past! Why can’t you just move on?”

You shot him a look, disbelief swirling in your chest. “Move on?” Your voice was shaking with the effort of holding back everything you wanted to say. “Why is it that you’re the only person who sees that she has changed? Why is it that everyone else around you swears she hasn’t?”

Satoru didn’t respond right away. Then, he took a deep breath in, as if it was taking every bone in his body to control his emotions to hit you at that very moment. “Why do you care so much? Why can’t you just give her a chance?” he asked, almost pleading with you.

You stared at him for a moment too long. “Because,” you bit back, “She’s using you. And you’re too caught up in your own world to even see it.”

He took a step toward you, voice rising now. “That’s not true! She’s not using me! She—”

You threw your hands up in frustration. “You don’t get it, do you?” You were shouting now. “She is using you, Satoru! And I’m the one who’s supposed to stand here and watch while you defend her? While you act like she’s some saint who’s done nothing wrong?”

Satoru’s patience snapped, and his expression hardened. He couldn’t stand anymore of you making assumptions about her anymore. “You don’t even belong in this house! Why do you think you have a say in anything I’m doing? You’re not even part of this!” He took a step toward you, his eyes dark with anger, a final insult.

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, you couldn’t breathe. The blood drained from your face as everything came crashing down around you.

“Oh,” was all you managed to say, your voice barely a whisper as your eyes filled with tears. You couldn’t speak. You couldn’t even look at him. You felt your heart shatter into a thousand pieces in your chest.

Satoru’s expression faltered, but it was too late now.

“Leave,” you whispered through gritted teeth.

He hesitated for a second, looking like he wanted to say something more. But he didn’t. With a sharp breath, he turned and walked toward the door.

The second the door slammed shut behind him, you collapsed onto your bed, your hands clutching at the sheets as sobs wracked your body. You cried harder than you ever had before — louder, deeper, until you felt like you couldn’t breathe. Your chest ached with every gasp, every sob, the pain of his words echoing in your mind.

You don’t even belong in this house!

He was right.

You don’t even have their surname? Were you picked up from some ditch?

She was right.

It is the spawn of Satan himself!

They were all right, all absolutely right, weren’t they?

Come with me, daughter.

It was a lie.

You know I won’t leave you.

Lie.

She doesn’t need some random guy when she’s got me.

Lie, lie, lie!

You know lying is a sin, right?

You clutched your chest hard. You didn’t know how long you cried, but when the tears finally stopped, all that remained was emptiness. A hollow space where something you had always held onto seemed to disappear.

──── ୨ৎ ────

“What are you doing here?” you asked coldly.

He shrugged, his usual smirk flickering to life. “Just passing by.”

“Passing by my room?” you shot back, though your voice was devoid of any emotion.

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking almost sheepish. “Maybe… I wanted to talk.”

“What do you want?”

He hesitated, just for a moment, before forcing a laugh. “I don’t know. How are the studies? Still out to prove you’re the best in the room?”

Your expression didn’t change, and the awkwardness between you grew even more.

“Also,” he chuckled nervously, “what did you say to Utahime? I was almost killed thrice in the last two days.”

“If you don’t have anything important to say, Gojo, move.” You stepped past him, unlocking your door. You had begun locking it since the incident that night, to avoid him sneaking in when you were away and to avoid anyone walking in on you bawling your eyes out, trying to drown the repetitive voices in your head with theories about spells and charms.

“Why are you being like this?” His voice stopped you. He paused, watching you fiddle with the lock, clearly taking the hesitating actions as a cue to continue. “Like… like you don’t care.” His eyes finally met yours, and for a moment, they weren’t the Satoru you knew. There was no smugness, no teasing — just guilt.

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep your voice steady. “You’re imagining things,” you said, pushing the door open.

“Am I?” His tone sharpened, and he took a step closer. “You’ve been avoiding me for weeks. You won’t even look at me.”

“Maybe I have nothing to say to you,” you replied, turning to him to see his expression one last time before sorrow overtook your senses again.

His shoulders were stiffened, and for the first time this night, he couldn’t meet your gaze.

“That’s what I thought,” you said, your voice quieter now. “You know exactly why, Satoru. You just don’t want to admit it.”

He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. “I didn’t mean it,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Goodnight, Satoru,” you said, slamming the door in his face before he could say anything else.

The silence that followed was deafening, and on the other side of the door, he lingered. You waited, holding your breath as you leaned against the wood, but no sound came.

And just like that, the distance between you grew wider.

──── ୨ৎ ────

Your school year was nearing the end, and summer was around the corner. The days before that had been a blur. You had avoided Satoru like the plague, throwing yourself deeper into your books and classes. Even your classmates had noticed the change, though none dared to bring it up to your face.

Except for Shoko.

“Are you okay?” she asked one afternoon, cornering you in the library.

“I’m fine,” you lied, not looking up from your Curses: A Guide to Identify the Weakness book.

“No, you’re not.” She pulled up a chair, crossing her arms as she stared at you. “You’re avoiding him, he’s avoiding everyone, and the rest of us are stuck in the middle of whatever this is.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said flatly.

She groaned, leaning back in her chair. “You’re lucky this is me and not Utahime. Just so you know, he sent a message.”

That caught your attention. Slowly, you closed your book and looked at her. “What message?”

“He said he’s done with Alina,” Shoko said softly. “Said he wouldn’t talk to her anymore.”

“Why are you telling me this?” you asked quietly.

“Because,” Shoko said, standing up, “you’re both being stupid. And I’m sick of watching my friends tear themselves apart over something that could be fixed with one honest conversation.”

“Honest conversation?” you repeated bitterly. “What’s there to say? He made his priorities clear, Shoko.”

“Did he?” She raised an eyebrow, leaning closer. “Or did you just decide that for him because you’re too scared to hear what he actually thinks?”

Your jaw tightened. “You weren’t there, Shoko. You didn’t hear the things he said.”

“You’re right, I wasn’t. But I’ve seen how miserable he’s been these past few weeks,” she countered. “He won’t say it, but he’s been beating himself up about it. He knows he messed up.”

“And what about me?!” you snapped, your voice harsher than you intended. “I’m supposed to just forget everything? Pretend like I wasn’t the one he hurt?”

Shoko sighed, her expression softening. “No. But you’re not giving him a chance to make it right. He’s been trying to talk to you — hell, he even took all the hits heroically when Utahime nearly ripped him apart.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Utahime — what?”

“Oh, yeah,” Shoko said. “She had a few choice words for him. Might’ve included running him over by her carriage horses. Not my place to repeat them, but let’s just say she wasn’t thrilled with how he handled things.”

Despite yourself, a small, bitter smile tugged at your lips. “Good for her.”

“Look,” Shoko said, softening her tone again, “you don’t have to forgive him right away. But at least talk to him. He’s done with Alina, and it’s obvious you’re not over him. Don’t let this thing between you two fester any longer.”

You stared at her for a long moment, her words sinking in despite the stubborn walls you’d built around yourself. “I’ll think about it,” you said finally.

“Good,” Shoko said with a satisfied nod. “Just… don’t take too long. We’re not kids forever, you know.”

──── ୨ৎ ────

The knock on Satoru’s bedroom door felt louder than you intended. You had rehearsed this moment in your mind a dozen times already. What were you supposed to say again?

Hey. It’s me. Haha.

No no no. Hey, how have you been?

No, ugh. Hey, nice weather?

Still, when the door opened and his bright blue eyes met yours, every word you had prepared seemed to vanish. The two of you only stared at each other, he in surprise and you in embarrassment.

“Hey,” he said, trying to break the silence.

“Hey,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

The silence stretched between you for a moment before he stepped aside, gesturing for you to come in. You did, though your fingers fidgeted nervously at your sides.

The room looked messy. The bedsheets were sprawled around as if he had been tossing and turning all night earlier. The curtains were closed so the room was in utter darkness. Yet, you needed no amount of light to see the look of sleep-deprivation he carried on his face.

Was it because of you? Because you had acted this way? Was it because he was regretting what he said to you earlier (he should, a voice in your head said, but you pushed it away)? Or was he failing his classes again? His stream was different from yours so you couldn’t meet him in school either. Or was it perhaps because of—

“I was—” you both started at the same time, cutting each other off awkwardly.

You let out a breathy laugh, and for the first time in weeks, his lips pulled upward, a glimmer of the boy you knew. “You first,” he offered, stepping closer.

“I was going to say that I…” Your words faltered as he reached for your hand. His fingers, warm and tentative, brushed yours before interlocking gently. “Oh. Wow.” He smiled at you, pulling you closer to kiss the top of your head. “I missed this,” you admitted finally, your voice breaking slightly.

“I’m sorry,” he said immediately, softer than you had expected him to be. “For everything. For being such a—”

A sudden knock interrupted him, and a servant’s voice called from the hall. “Young Master, Miss — Madam requests your presence in the meeting room immediately.”

Satoru groaned under his breath, but you let go of his hand, smiling as well now. “We’ll talk later,” you murmured, turning to leave.

The Gojo clan’s meeting room was one thing, but the Gojo family’s meeting room felt even more imposing. High ceilings, ornate woodwork, and an air of superiority — that was the only way anyone could describe it. Mother and Father sat at the head of the low table, their expressions unreadable.

“You’re here,” his father said. He gestured for you and Satoru to sit, and you did, sitting in a formal position with your hands on your knees, feet touching the soft pillow under you. His mother only nodded at both of you. “We’ve received an invitation from the Kamo Clan.”

Kamo Clan? You had read about a legend of theirs in your history class. A man who had dropped himself to the bottom of the hells indulging with curses to create powerful heirs. The Kamo Clan had an awful reputation — ancient, powerful, and, if rumours were to be believed, sinister.

Beside you, you felt Satoru stiffen, and whisper only one word.

“Alina?”

Of course! How could you have forgotten that? The girl who had been plaguing your school ever since she set foot in it was Kamo Alina. Suddenly, what his father said didn’t matter anymore. The way his mother was staring between you and him didn’t matter anymore. What was about to happen in his room that time didn’t matter.

“The banquet,” Satoru’s father continued, and it took a lot of effort from you to keep listening, “is an exclusive gathering of noble families from across the globe. It will take place in the south, and attendance is mandatory for representatives of our house.”

You gathered the courage to steal a glance at Satoru’s expression. The look on his face was enough to tell you he wasn’t surprised by the connection. He knew. He had known it all this time. Your hands curled into fists under the table, your nails biting into your palms, probably leaving marks too.

His mother’s voice said coolly. “Prepare yourselves. You’ll leave at the end of the week. Dismissed.”

You didn’t wait for Satoru as you stood abruptly, your pillow gliding across the floor. You made your way back to your room, trying not to look back at his face, but you didn’t make it far before he caught up with you.

“Wait!” He grabbed your arm, spinning you around to face him. “It’s not what you think.”

You yanked your arm free, glaring at him. “It’s not what I think? Really, Gojo? Because I think you lied to me.”

“I didn’t—”

“You said you weren’t in contact with her!” you snapped.

“I’m not! This isn’t me — it’s her family. They’re the ones—”

“Oh, so her family conveniently sends in an invitation to us to attend their stupid gathering at somehow the right time?”

“I don’t know? Look,” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, not at you, no, but at that darn family. “I told you, I’m not in contact with her. That is the truth. I haven’t spoken to her since—”

“Since when?” you interrupted, stepping closer. “Since you told Shoko you were done? Or since you got caught? Because it feels like right now, I’m finding out the actual truth.”

“That is not the truth, please just list—”

“Stop,” you cut him off. You had had enough. “It’s okay. I don’t know why you think I even care. I ‘don’t belong here’, remember?”

“That’s not what I meant!” he shouted, his voice echoing in the empty hallway.

You stepped back, shaking your head with a sigh. “Don’t follow me.”

“Please,” he pleaded, his voice softer now, desperate. But you didn’t look back as you turned and headed for the courtyard, away from him and his stupid, stupid noble traditions.

──── ୨ৎ ────

The journey to the Southern estate was agonisingly long, but then again, you were from the East, and crossing entire landmarks took more than weeks by unruly waters. After the travel on the Gojo estate’s huge ship, your family was met with a stout, snotty man representing the Kamo clan, in charge of dropping you to their estate by comfortable carriages. The carriage rocked back and forth, and the countryside unfolded before you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to appreciate any of it. Your focus remained on the window, your reflection glaring back at you. Anything to avoid looking at him.

Satoru sat beside you, arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently against the carriage floor. The silence was so oppressive it practically screamed at both of you to make up already. His mother sat across from you, but her usual composed expression faltered slightly as she glanced between you and her son.

After what felt like an eternity, Satoru let out an exaggerated sigh, his head lolling back against the seat. "Are you seriously going to do this the whole trip?"

You didn’t move. “Do what?”

“This,” he said, waving a hand vaguely in your direction. “Acting like I don’t exist.”

“I’m not acting,” you replied coldly. “You’re still breathing, aren’t you?”

He bristled at your tone, his foot tapping faster. “Wow. Real mature.”

You didn’t dignify that with a response, instead shifting slightly in your seat to angle yourself even farther away from him. The silence returned, heavier now, and his mother finally cleared her throat, breaking it.

“Is everything all right?” she asked delicately, her eyes lingering on you longer.

“Yes,” you answered quickly, too quickly. “Everything’s fine.”

Her brow lifted slightly, but she said nothing, her gaze darting to her son. He sat rigid, his jaw clenched as he poked his head out of his own window, refusing to meet her eyes.

“Fine,” Satoru muttered after a beat, as if to echo you. His tone was harsh, though he didn’t look at either of you.

His mother’s lips pressed into a thin line, but she didn’t press further. The realisation seemed to dawn on her that her carefully curated plans for her son’s life — whatever they might be — were starting to crack at the seams.

Satoru’s foot finally stilled, but his irritation hadn’t seemed to disappear yet. After another stretch of unbearable silence, he tried again, his voice softer this time. "Look, I’m not going to apologize for something I didn’t do.”

“Good thing I’m not expecting one, then.”

He groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Can you at least try to meet me halfway here? This is ridiculous.”

You finally turned to look at him. “What’s ridiculous is pretending any of this matters. I shouldn’t even be here, right? So why don’t you just—”

“That’s enough,” his mother cut in, her tone sharper than you had ever heard it. Her gaze pinned you both in place. “We’re almost there. I suggest you both compose yourselves before we arrive.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, retreating back into silence, but not before catching the slight smirk on Satoru’s face. It wasn’t amusement, though — it was frustration barely held in check. He didn’t say another word, leaning back against the seat and staring resolutely at the ceiling as the carriage rocked along. You pressed your lips together and turned back to the window.

That was when you saw it.

The estate loomed in the distance, its dark silhouette framed against the dusky sky. It wasn’t grand in the way the Gojo mansion was. No, this place had an oddly familiar air of foreboding. Its high walls and shadowed towers looked like they were whispering secrets and things long forgotten in history. The closer you got, the more a strange chill settled over you, prickling the back of your neck.

Goosebumps ran down your arms as the carriage rolled closer. The gates opened with an almost eerie slowness. There was billowing mist surrounding the entire area, and it made the scene even more creepy. You couldn’t explain it, but something about this place just felt… wrong. It wasn’t just the estate’s imposing presence or the way the evening light seemed to bend around it — it was something you couldn’t place at all.

You felt like something bad, really bad was going to happen here, or perhaps had already happened. A chill ran down your spine when you recalled the pages of absolute horror you had seen attached to the restricted books in your library, and their vibes seemed to match that of this place.

Beside you, Satoru shifted uncomfortably. You glanced at him for a moment and saw that his confident facade had slipped. His eyes lingered on the estate, as if trying to figure out just what it was that made the place seem so uncanny and unreal, like it was something straight out of a horror novel.

As the carriage came to a stop, his mother stepped out first, poised as ever. She didn’t seem fazed by the oppressive air of the place, but then again, she rarely showed any cracks in her demeanour.

You followed, your legs unsteady as they hit the gravel path. The chill hadn’t left you, clung to your skin. Satoru came last, his usual swagger dimmed.

“Remember,” his mother murmured as the servants approached, her voice low and pointed, “appearances are everything. Do try not to embarrass the family.”

You nodded stiffly, but deep down, all you could think about was how much you wanted to leave this place. Sighing and ignoring the tremble of your gut, you held your own hands and entered the estate.

The estate’s grand entrance hall was vast, its high ceilings decorated with intricate wooden carvings that spiralled into ominous shapes. A line of servants stood on either side, their heads bowed low in synchronised precision. “Welcome to the Kamo estate,” they chanted together, their voices echoing.

A servant stepped forward, addressing Satoru’s father (and not batting an eye to his mother) with an apologetic tone. “We regret to inform you that our — that is, the Kamo clan’s — leaders could not greet you in person. Urgent matters required their immediate attention, but they send their sincerest apologies and look forward to meeting you tomorrow.”

Satoru’s father met his wife’s eyes, and she nodded curtly, and the servant's eyes widened as if he realised the error he made by ignoring her and addressing only the male leader in your group. “It is of no consequence,” she replied coolly.

As the servants moved to escort you all further inside, you couldn’t help but glance around. The estate was undeniably grand, but there was something cold and uninviting about it. The polished marble floors gleamed under flickering chandeliers, and the thick, musty air clung to your skin. It felt more like a mausoleum than a home.

The servants led you through endless corridors, the silence broken only by the sound of footsteps on stone. Every now and then, you passed ornate doors or shadowy alcoves, each one looking more foreboding than the last. You tried to shake the feeling of being watched, but the creeping sensation never left.

Eventually, they stopped in front of a door, and the servant gestured to it with a bow. “This will be your room,” he said before retreating with the others.

You stepped inside hesitantly. The room was smaller, far removed from where they were escorting Satoru now, and you had a feeling his would be uncomfortably close to Alina’s. The room was smaller, colder, and had an air of neglect, as if it hadn’t been opened in years. Dust coated the surfaces, and the faint scent of damp wood lingered in the air. There were faint scratches on the walls as if someone had clawed at them long ago. The wallpaper had started peeling in places, and the furniture looked untouched, as though someone had decided only yesterday to disturb the fifteen year old cobwebs. The architecture, the layout, even the faint smell of mildew — it was unsettlingly familiar, though you couldn’t quite place why.

Satoru’s mother appeared behind you. She took one look around the room, and her eyebrows twitched into a carefully concealed scowl. “Well,” she said. “This is... quaint, to say the least.”

You turned to face her, unsure of how to respond. She gestured vaguely at the room, the bare walls, the dull, muted colours. “If you find this unsuitable, arrangements can be made. I’m sure a clan as proud as Kamo wouldn’t want their guests to feel...” She paused, her lips curling in distaste, “uncomfortable.”

You swallowed hard, shaking your head. “No, mother,” you said, forcing a polite smile. “This is fine.”

Her brow arched, as though she didn’t quite believe you, but she didn’t press. “As you wish,” she said softly, turning on her heel and leaving without another word.

The door closed behind her with a heavy thud, and the silence of the room enveloped you. You exhaled slowly, taking in the sparse furnishings, the musty air. You hated the idea of being a burden, but now, as you sat on the bed, watching it creak loudly, you wondered if you had made a mistake.

Late that night, you lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to get yourself to sleep.

“One sheep, two sheep, three sheep—”

What would he be doing right now? Was he still upset?

“Fuck, lost count again.” You sighed loudly. This was probably the sixth time you had tried but failed to sleep. All because of him. You closed your eyes tightly to try again.

“One sheep, two sh—”

Shit. Nature’s call.

You widened your eyes and glanced at the door, dreading the thought of stepping out into the pitch-black halls of the manor. Your room didn’t even have a washroom, which seemed absurd for a house of this size and considering who it belonged to. Clenching your jaw, you tried to distract yourself from the pressure in your bladder by examining the room, but there was nothing to look at. No paintings, no books, no trinkets — just plain walls and dull furniture.

With a sigh, you finally pushed yourself up, deciding to find a maid to help you find the washroom. You lit a candelabrum sitting next to your bed to help you navigate the area. The hallway was dimly lit, the flickering lights casting eerie shadows across the walls. You tried to stay calm, but every creak of the floorboards beneath your feet made you jump.

You walked, and walked, and walked. The layout of the house was like a maze in itself, and every turn seemed to lead to another identical hallway. Within the span of minutes, you found yourself descending a set of stairs you didn’t remember seeing before.

The air grew colder. The scent of damp stone and decay was thick in your nostrils. You paused at the bottom of the staircase, realizing with a jolt of horror that you were in what looked like the basement of the manor. The little light coming from your candles barely illuminated the space.

A wave of nausea hit you. The place smelled like dead rats, but somehow, despite your lack of sight in the room, a lot of scenes seemed to cross your mind. Shadows in the halls. Muffled screams. The overwhelming fear of being dragged into this very basement to be punished for something you couldn’t understand. Your eyes caught on the walls, and you lifted your candelabrum up and stepped closer. There were faint marks carved into the stone. Tally marks. Dozens of them. Maybe hundreds.

Your hand reached out, trembling, brushing against the ridges. A flash of a memory hit you — your hand gripping a piece of stone fully covered in blood, dragging it across a surface, one line after another. But where had it been? In a classroom, on the board? No — this was something else, something darker. Your stomach twisted, and you stumbled back, the nausea overwhelming.

“Miss?” A voice shattered the silence, and you whipped around to see a maid standing at the top of the staircase. Her face was pale, her brows furrowed, as if you had offended every fibre of her body by stepping down into this basement. “What are you doing down here?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but no words came out. The smell of the basement, the tally marks, the scenes — they clung to you, and you could only shake your head.

“Let me escort you back to your room. You shouldn’t ever be here”

You nodded mutely, following her up the stairs. She led you back through the winding halls. By the time you reached your room, the trembling in your legs had mostly subsided, though the chill of the basement still remained. She opened the door for you, offering a rigid nod before disappearing back into the dark hallways. You stepped inside, closing the door behind you, and exhaled shakily.

Your hands were still trembling slightly as you sat on the edge of the bed, trying to steady your breathing. The scenes — fragmented, disjointed — played on a loop in your mind. What were they? Forgotten memories? Flashbacks? The tally marks, the muffled screams. They were just like something out of your worst nightmares. You buried your face in your hands, feeling the sting of tears prickling at your eyes.

A soft knock at the door startled you. You hastily wiped your eyes, rising to your feet. When you opened it, Satoru’s mother stood there. Her expression softened slightly when she saw you.

“You’ve been crying,” she said matter-of-factly.

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, stepping aside to let her in.

She swept into the room, her gaze flickering briefly to the empty, barren space. “This room is unacceptable,” she said bluntly. But then, as she turned to face you, something in her eyes looked gentler, almost human — something she had always carried around you. “You should have asked for it to be changed, darling.”

You shook your head. “I didn’t want to be a bother. It’s fine, really.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, she studied you. Then, to your surprise, she stepped closer, her hands resting lightly on your shoulders. “You’re far too used to accepting the minimal,” she said quietly. “That’s not what you deserve.”

You blinked, startled by the tenderness in her tone. Before you could respond, she leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, her cool hand lingering briefly against your cheek. The gesture was so unexpected, so maternal, that your throat tightened with emotion.

“I will speak to the servants in the morning,” she said, straightening but not pulling away. “And if you ever feel uncomfortable — ever — you will tell me. Do you understand?”

You nodded wordlessly, unable to trust your voice.

“Good.” She adjusted the edge of your sleeve with a small, practised motion, as if tidying you was a second nature for her. “Get some rest. You look exhausted.”

She turned to leave but paused at the door, glancing back over her shoulder. “And whatever it is that has you so unsettled tonight... I will see to it. Do not let it weigh on your mind. The past has a way of creeping into the present, but you are stronger than it.”

The door closed softly behind her, leaving you standing in the middle of the room.

For the first time since you had arrived at the estate, you felt a sliver of comfort.

──── ୨ৎ ────

Over the next week, your efforts to blend in with the household paid off in more ways than one. Most of the maids, initially wary of you as a noble guest, had warmed up to your presence. They appreciated your willingness to help with menial tasks and often joked that you were more reliable than some of their own peers. Soon enough, their dislike for the Kamo family began to slip into their conversations.

It started one evening when you were helping two maids, Haru and Tomoko, carry water from the wells. They spoke in hushed voices, glancing around nervously as though the courtyard’s walls themselves might eavesdrop.

“I’ve always said the Kamo family has skeletons in their closet,” Haru muttered. “Well, in this case, they’re probably in the basement. You’ve seen it, haven’t you?”

You nodded. “I have. It’s disturbing. What were those tally marks on the walls?”

Tomoko sighed, setting her bucket down with a huff. “No one really knows for sure. Some say it’s the number of people tortured down there. Others think it’s the number of people who died. Either way, nothing good ever happened in that place.”

Before you could press further, another maid, Aoi, cut in sharply. She was older, sharper, and rigid. Yet you had watched her pull the buckets back up from the walls with such brute force that it was no wonder she was still working for the clan despite her age. “Enough! You shouldn’t fill her head with stories. She’s a noblewoman; this isn’t her concern.” Her eyes avoided yours, fixed firmly on the stone path.

Haru rolled her eyes dramatically. “Oh, relax, Ms Aoi. She’s not like the rest of them. She’s helped us more than half the family ever has. Why shouldn’t she know what’s really going on?”

Tomoko nodded enthusiastically. “Exactly! And she’s already seen the basement. It’s not like we’re revealing some great hidden treasure. Besides, it’s about time someone outside this house knew what the Kamo family is really like.”

Aoi crossed her arms, her frown deepening. “And what good will it do her to know? The Kamo family isn’t to be trifled with. You’re putting her in danger — and yourselves, too, for that matter.”

You cut in gently, trying to defuse the tension. “I appreciate the concern, Ms Aoi, truly. But if the Kamo family has nothing to hide, then why should talking about it be dangerous?”

Haru smirked. “See? She gets it.”

Tomoko leaned closer, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “Do you want to know what I heard? Years ago, when the punishments in the basement were still happening, the head of the house would personally oversee them. And sometimes…” she trembled visibly. “Sometimes, they weren’t even punishing people who broke the law. Just anyone they didn’t like. Servants who fell out of favour. Merchants who got on their bad side.”

Haru shuddered. “They say the screams would echo up through the floorboards. That’s why most of the older staff refuse to even talk about it. Too many bad memories. There is also the ghost of that little girl—”

“That’s enough!” Aoi snapped. “The girl doesn’t need every grisly detail.”

“Oh, come on, Aoi. You hate them as much as we do. Don’t act like you’re above this.”

“Whether I hate them or not is irrelevant,” Aoi huffed. “You’re still being reckless. If anyone hears about this...”

Tomoko grinned mischievously. “And who’s going to tell them? You?”

Aoi gave an exasperated sigh but said nothing.

That night, you wrote letters to Shoko and Utahime, recounting the strange conversation and the haunting basement. You might have mentioned a glimpse of Satoru, too, though your thoughts on him were far more conflicted.

Shoko’s reply was predictably blunt.

Sounds grim. Torture rooms, tally marks, mysterious deaths — real classic Kamo vibes. Maybe they’re compensating for their family’s lack of charm. But, you know, not my circus, not my corpses. Still, were they tortured with surgical precision? If so, let me know which tools were involved. I’ve got a scalpel set if you want to reenact it. Besides, I’ve always wanted to see how far someone could go with a bone saw and no anaesthetic. For science, of course. Stay alive. Bye.

PS: If you find any good booze down there, bring some back for me.

Utahime’s letter was far less chill.

That two-timing bastard is probably off doing handstands to impress some girl who can't tell her right from left. Honestly, I’m waiting for your mother to tell him the truth already. If he doesn’t start acting like your fiance, I’m going to come over there and bury him in that damn basement myself. If I had to spend more than two breaths in his company, I’d kill him. Actually, I’d kill him for free. Just say the word.

PS: If I didn’t love you, I would’ve told you to go into that basement again just for fun. But I do love you, so stay safe.

The Kamo clan leaders remained an enigma. Somehow, their presence was so secretive that their portraits were absent from every book and document in the library. You wondered if even the servants themselves had seen these people. “Maybe they’re so ugly they’re too ashamed to show their faces?” Shoko had suggested in one letter, and you still snorted remembering that.

From all your time in the estate’s library, you could only find their names — Kamo Daijiro and Kamo Akane. Creepy. You also learned they had two daughters: Alina, the eldest, and her twin who had married into another prestigious family and no longer lived at the estate.

You still hadn’t caught so much as a glimpse of Daijiro or Akane, but that would change soon. A grand gathering was scheduled for the following night, and the maids were already preparing for their arrival in the estate.

──── ୨ৎ ────

The Kamo maids worked on you, dabbing floral scents to your neck and pulling a corsage on your hands. Behind you, Aoi’s hands deftly pulled at the laces of the corset you were reluctantly being tied into. Earlier, an unexpected scuffle had broken out between the Gojo clan maids and the Kamo maids when the latter had shown up, intending to tend to you.

“She’s our priority,” one of the Gojo maids had sniffed, her arms crossed.

“Not anymore,” retorted Tomoko. “She is living in the Kamo residence right now. Your loyalty isn’t required here.”

“Well, she’s from the Gojo clan!” snapped another maid, her tone haughty.

“Yes, and?” Haru shot back. The Gojo maids had given up after a reassuring smile from you, muttering about how they are only leaving because “the Lady asked so”.

Now, Aoi was tugging the corset strings tighter. The conversation had shifted from the petty bickering of maids to something far darker.

“You wouldn’t believe the stories this house holds,” one of the younger maids murmured, a shiver in her voice. “Do you know about the little girl?”

“What girl?” you asked. You hadn’t seen the story of any little girl mentioned in the books you had read, but you had distinctly remember a mention of her story in an earlier conversation with these maids.

“Ms Aoi knows about it best!” Haru exclaimed.

Aoi’s face darkened as she let out a long sigh. “It happened about a decade ago,” she began. “A child had appeared on the doorstep, barely an year old, mind you. The family had taken her in, but of course, they did not treat her like a daughter. They had left her in the care of us servants. I was like her mother,” she said proudly. “She had turned three, I still remember, it was her birthday that night. She spilled a glass of expensive red wine on Lady Akane’s dress. It wasn’t even the girl’s fault. She was just a baby, carrying a tray too big for her tiny hands. But Sir Daijiro… he doesn’t forgive mistakes.”

The other maids exchanged uneasy glances as Aoi huffed loudly, pausing her hands on your laces to wipe stray tears. “The girl was dragged to the basement, where they lock away the disobedient. She… she never came out.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “She was… killed?”

“Yes,” whispered one of the younger maids, her voice trembling. “It’s said her ghost still lingers. Sometimes we hear her cries late at night. And the mist that hangs over the estate? They say it’s her curse — her anger at the clan.”

Aoi nodded grimly. “I was here. I wasn’t much younger than I am now, but I couldn’t do anything to save her. All I could do was sneak her scraps of food and try to mend her torn dresses after… after the punishments.”

You were horrified. “Punishments? For a child?”

Aoi’s tears couldn’t be held back anymore. “She was just a baby,” she croaked thickly. “I’d hear her cry at night, calling for her mother. And when… when…” Haru handed Aoi a cloth to wipe her face. “When she died… it was the moment I stopped believing the Kamo family had any humanity left.”

The room fell silent for a moment, save for the sound of Aoi’s sniffling and your shallow breathing. “How can someone be so cruel?” you murmured.

“That’s why we’re all so terrified,” Tomoko confessed. “If they could do that to a child, what chance do we have? Everyone here walks on eggshells, afraid to make even the smallest mistake. The leaders haven’t changed. They’re still the same people who let that little girl die.”

Aoi’s hands resumed their work, tying the last knot on the corset. The maids stepped back. You glanced at the mirror, seeing not just your reflection but the haunted expressions of the women around you.

The little girl’s story stuck with you, her cries echoing in your mind. If the Kamo clan could be so ruthless to a defenceless child, what horrors could they unleash on those who dared to cross them?

──── ୨ৎ ────

The grand gathering was suffocating. The air was thick with the scent of incense and expensive perfumes, the soft hum of conversation occasionally punctuated by bursts of laughter. You had probably sent about fifty letters in all to Shoko, Utahime and even Geto asking them if they would come to the South, and they all had replied with repetitive no’s. You had tried to keep your head down, avoiding the heavy gazes of the Kamo guests. But you were glad to see that Satoru, for once, was sticking close to you, uncharacteristically quiet. He hadn’t so much as glanced at Alina all evening, and perhaps even all this time during the visit if you were lucky. Not that you cared, of course.

Earlier, when you had overheard his mother asking him to keep his distance from “that Kamo girl”, and you remembered how he had rolled his eyes so hard you thought they would have gotten stuck.

“Fine,” he had said with mock drama. “But only because I’m such an understanding guy. And because I want you to stop looking like you’re ready to shank me with a chopstick.”

Now, true to his word, his focus was entirely on you. Every time you caught him looking elsewhere, it was never in her direction. He had even waved off her attempts to engage him, subtly turning his back to her as though she didn’t exist.

“See?” he murmured, leaning down to your ear. “Haven’t even looked her way. You believe me now, right?”

You arched a brow, unimpressed. “You don’t get points for doing the bare minimum, Gojo.”

“Bare minimum?” he gasped, and you smiled a little. His response reminded you of the ‘old times’, as they were now. “This is maximum effort for me! Have you met me?”

“Hush now, both of you,” his father interrupted. “They’re here.”

The Kamo clan heads arrived, and the air shifted. The room quieted, all eyes turning to the doors as Daijiro and Akane Kamo entered. Their presence was magnetic, commanding. As they moved through the crowd, the guests bowed slightly, parting to make way. You moved your eyes to the carpeted floor. You didn’t want to introduce yourself to someone who would torture a little girl to death, for God’s sake.

But then curiosity overtook your senses. You had been thinking of what they would look like for ages. They were like a mystery you had been picking apart ever since you stepped foot into that basement. Now was finally the moment you would get to see the leaders who hid from newspapers, books and even their own servants. You finally looked up. And the moment you saw their faces, the world seemed to tilt.

Sharp cheekbones. Piercing eyes. Their very presence struck a chord you hadn’t felt in years. Distantly, hauntingly familiar…

Your parents.

“Hush, little baby, everything you need is right here,” your mother cooed, and you walked to where he was leading you. “Yes, that’s it. There are your favourite snacks here, and all your favourite toys. Come on. Go there.”

But you found something else to interest you. Aoi, the maid, was standing right there, watching everything, and you wanted to walk to where she was instead of your bad mother.

“Stupid girl, where are you going?” your father pushed you from behind into the basement, and you fell over its many steps. Falling, falling, falling. By the time you reached the bottom, your face felt hot with some weird liquid.

“This is your new house — for now,” your mother said finally, walking down the steps. “You have given me enough trouble. From the moment I was cornered in that dark alley, alone and frightened, till now — you have been nothing but trouble. You are a constant reminder of what happened to me that night. You shall die, die!”

“There, there, now, Akie,” you watched your father cradle your mother’s head in his chest. You tilted your head, and the force almost made you fall back to the ground. “The child will no longer remain here. I have the most secretive merchants arriving from the North to here. They will be taking this… thing away from us, away from you. And then you shall finally be free.”

The realisation hit like a crashing wave, pulling the air from your lungs. Your vision blurred, and your chest tightened. It was too much. Too much. It was unbearable.

Without thinking, you reached out, your trembling hand finding Satoru’s mother instead of him. Her warm, steady grasp grounded you back to reality, and she turned to you immediately in concern. She studied you for just half a second before realising something was wrong, horribly wrong.

“Come,” she said softly, guiding you out of the hall without a moment’s hesitation.

Satoru’s voice trailed behind you, confused. “Where are you—”

“Stay with your father,” his mother ordered firmly over her shoulder.

Once outside, the cool night air hit your face, and it made you realise the warm wetness flooding your cheeks and stinging at your eyes. She led you to a quiet corner of the garden, still holding you as tightly as possible.

“What’s wrong?” she asked gently, her eyes scanning your face. “Are you unwell?”

The words tumbled out before you could stop them. “They’re my parents.”

Her brow furrowed. “Who are?”

“Them.” You swallowed hard, finally breaking down. “They! They left me. They sold me. I didn’t know their names but… I’ve seen them. They’re…”

Her expression shifted from confusion to horror. You looked at her face. You had never seen a look like that on her ever before. She released your hand only to pull you into a tight embrace.

“You poor thing,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I had no idea. But I swear to you, they’ll never hurt you again. Not while I’m here.”

You cried on her shoulder loudly, and you could feel she was crying softly too. “Why? Am I not worth raising… Mom?” She pulled back slightly, cupping your face in her hands. “Why didn’t they come back for me?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care what their reasons were. You will be a Gojo soon. It is only a matter of time now. And you will forever, forever, be a part of our family. I will not let the Kamos stain your history, ever.”

You sniffled. From somewhere in the hall, you could hear Satoru’s loud voice, probably causing some kind of scene.

“See?” his mother said softly, trying to distract you. “He hasn’t looked at their girl once, just like he promised. That boy might be infuriating, but when it comes to you, he’s surprisingly reliable.”

A faint smile tugged at your lips.

Satoru’s mother stood behind you. Her fingers were combing through your hair softly, as if to sooth your emotions with her caring rhythm. She adjusted your corset strings next, pulling them tighter, not harshly, but enough to make you focus on the present instead of the roaring panic threatening to take over.

Beyond the ornate doors of the gathering, voices rose and fell. You strained your ears to pick out the words, leaning slightly toward the source. And then you heard it.

A deep, booming voice. The same voice from your nightmares. The one that haunted your memories. Your breath hitched. It felt as though the walls were closing in to suffocate you.

Satoru’s mother’s hands immediately moved to your shoulders to steady you. “Breathe, darling,” she said firmly. “I’m here, am I not? You are safe.”

You nodded, though tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. “I’m trying,” you whisper, clutching the fabric of her dress tightly.

And then, the voice spoke words that made your blood run cold.

“…a marriage between Kamo Alina and Gojo Satoru.”

You froze. Your heart seemed to have stopped. The room seemed to have crashed down onto you. You tried to process what you had just heard. Satoru’s mother stiffened behind you, her hands pausing mid-movement.

“What did they just say?” you whispered.

She didn’t respond, though her head tilted slightly as she listened intently to the conversation happening inside the room. You caught snippets of whispers as noble families exchanged their astonishment at the bold proposal.

Surely, Satoru’s father knows. He knows that Satoru is supposed to be engaged to you.Right?

But then you heard him speak. His voice seemed proud and approving. “An excellent proposal, Daijiro Kamo. This alliance shall strengthen both our families. I accept.”

The words hit you like a slap. Your stomach churned, and for a moment, you thought you might be sick.

“Mom?” you whispered and turned to Satoru’s mother. “Why…?”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes narrowing dangerously. “That moron,” she hissed under her breath. Her hands fell away from your shoulders furiously. “He didn’t consult me. He didn’t consult anyone except Daijiro. Of course, he didn’t. Men like to think their decisions are final simply because they made them.”

The applause from the other side of the door grew louder. The sound vibrated in your ears as the nobles toasted the ‘union’. Your panic surged again. “What do we do?” you asked desperately.

Satoru’s mother exhaled sharply. “I shall handle it.”

When she threw the doors open roughly, the room fell silent. The silence following her entrance was not mere courtesy; it was submission. Her presence demanded it. Yet Kamo Daijiro, standing near the center with a goblet of red wine in his hand, immediately stepped forward with a smug smile. “Ah, my lady Gojo,” he began, his voice filled with condescension. “I was just about to inform you of the wonderful arrangement your husband and I have come to. My daughter, Alina, will—”

“Will do nothing,” she cut him off coldly.

Daijiro blinked, clearly taken aback by the interruption. “I beg your pardon?” he said with mock-politeness.

“You heard me,” she said, stepping further into the room. Every eye in the room was on her. “You dare discuss an engagement for my son without consulting me?”

Daijiro’s lips curled into a patronizing smile. “With all due respect, Lady Gojo, this is a matter for the men to decide. Your husband and I both agree that this alliance is mutually beneficial. Surely you trust your husband’s judgment.”

She laughed humorlessly. “Trust his judgment? You think I’m going to stand by while you play politics with my son’s life?”

She turned to glare at her husband. Satoru’s father cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable under her piercing gaze, but Daijiro waved him off. “Lady Gojo, your anger is misplaced. This is a matter of strategy. You may oversee the household, but these are decisions of power — something women cannot fully comprehend.”

The room grew deadly quiet now, and Alina seemed to have understood that what her father just said had been a mistake. Satoru’s jaw tightened at the insult at his mother, but he did not say anything yet. You were still frozen in the doorway, but you could feel that he was about to snap at any moment now.

Satoru’s mother’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Women cannot comprehend power?” Every word was pronounced clearly, and she took a single step closer. “You’re standing in my authority. Under my presence. Having begged for my appearance at this folly of an event. And you think I don’t comprehend power?”

“But this is an alliance—” Daijiro started.

“An alliance that disregards my authority,” she interrupted sharply. “An alliance that treats my son like a pawn in your political game of blind chess,” Her eyes flicked briefly to Satoru, who watched the exchange with a furrowed brow.

The room erupted in whispers. The many noble families exchanged shocked glances. Even Satoru’s father looked uncomfortable now, though he didn't dare interrupt.

Daijiro straightened, his tone hardening. “Lady Gojo, I understand you may feel... emotional about this. But this is for the good of both our families. Surely you don’t mean to disrupt an agreement between two patriarchs.”

Her expression darkened further. Without breaking eye contact, she reached for a glass of wine from a nearby tray. In one swift motion, she threw it to the ground, and the crystal shattered into thousands of shards. The sound echoed in the silence.

“The marriage is off,” she declared, her voice unwavering. “Because Satoru already has a fiancee.” She turned and gestured to you, standing awkwardly in the doorway having followed her from outside. “My future daughter-in-law, her.”

The room erupted into chaos. Gasps and furious whispers filled the air. Kamo Daijiro’s face turned a deep shade of red. The Kamo clan, the maids (who were standing outside, peering through the gates you left open, having not been allowed to enter the prestigious ceremony) and leaders alike, looked mortified at her words.

“You cannot be serious,” Akane said through gritted teeth.

“I’ve never been more serious,” she countered.

“You have humiliated my family!” Daijiro growled, stepping closer threateningly.

At this, Satoru stood up, his sword in his hand as he placed himself between his mother and Kamo Daijiro. He tilted the weapon slightly to make sure the threat of blood was sent across to Daijiro, and blocked the way to his mother. Her eyes softened at his action, and she straightened. “This discussion is over. Take your child and leave, Kamo. I will take mine. There is no alliance to be forged here. Gojo clan!” She called to the maids, soldiers and workers of the Gojo clan who had come along with them on the journey. “We shall set off back home right now. Prepare.”

Daijiro stared at her with rage and humiliation. But when he glanced at the sea of judgmental eyes surrounding him, he knew he lost. With a barely concealed snarl, he turned on his heel, motioning for his family to follow.

Satoru fixed his sword back into its scabbard. His mother turned to you, softening again. She rested a hand lightly on your shoulder. “Come. We shall leave this place now, for good this time.”

She led you out of the hall, her grip steady and reassuring, even as the whispers behind you grew louder.

──── ୨ৎ ────

The journey back home felt strangely fast compared to the painstaking crawl southward. Perhaps it was Satoru’s mother’s fiery words that had lit a spark of patriotism among the servants, and maybe even the horses. Whatever the case, you arrived at the Gojo estate far sooner than expected.

You barely had time to set foot inside when Satoru found you. He cornered you in one of the quieter hallways. The first thing you noticed was his face; his usual, easygoing expression was clouded with something you had never seen before.

“Did you know?” he asked.

You blinked, thrown off by the abruptness. “Did I know what?”

“That you’re my fiancee.” The words came out bitter and flat, as if he couldn’t believe he was saying them aloud.

Your breath caught in your throat. You had been bracing for this conversation, but not so soon. Not like this. “Yes,” you admitted after a moment.

He reeled back, as though the admission had physically struck him. “You knew?” His voice rose, echoing off the corridor walls. “How long? How long have you known?”

“A year,” you said hesitantly, feeling guilt rise up in your throat. “I mean… last year, your mother—”

“A year?” His voice cracked, and he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “You’ve known for an entire year, and you didn’t think to tell me?”

“I thought she would tell you,” you stammered. “She said she’d handle it.”

“Well, clearly, she didn’t!” he snapped, spinning to face you again. “So what, you were just going to wait until the wedding invitations went out?”

“That’s not what I meant!” you shot back. “I didn’t even agree to this in the first place. I was just as blindsided as you when she told me!”

“But she did tell you, and you did know,” he repeated coldly. “And you didn’t think I had a right to know?”

“You’re acting like I had a choice!” you said, your voice rising to match his.

“That doesn’t excuse keeping it from me!” he shouted too. “You and my mom — both of you — went behind my back. You made me feel like an idiot standing in that room today.”

“Oh, we made you look like an idiot?” you scoffed. “Why? Because you were actually planning to agree to her proposal? Because you wanted to marry that witch of a woman?”

His eyes widened in disbelief. “Are you serious? I barely even looked at her if I didn’t have to!”

“That was because mother had told you not to!” you countered. “Don’t stand there and question me when you’ve been acting like you have other options.”

“I didn’t know I didn’t have other options!” he shouted. “Because no one told me! The two people I trust the most in this world, you both kept me in the dark!”

You sighed. “Satoru—”

“No,” he cut you off. “Do you have any idea what this feels like? To know that the people you rely on the most didn’t think you were worth the truth?”

“That’s not fair,” you said softly, trying to find the right words. “I was just obeying mother—”

“Obeying mother?” he laughed incredulously. “By lying to me?”

“I didn’t lie!” you snapped. “I just… didn’t know how to tell you.”

“Well, you should have figured it out,” he said bitterly. “Because now, all I can think about is how little I actually know about you. About us. About… anything.”

The air between you felt heavy, suffocating. You wanted to say something, anything to fix the look of betrayal in his eyes, but your mind was blank.

Finally, he shook his head, his voice dropping to a strained whisper. “Look… I’ve never thought of you that way before, okay? You’re… you’re pretty, but you’re like a sister to me. That’s how I’ve always seen you. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

Oh. Of course.

“I need space,” he muttered, stepping back. “I need time to think.”

──── READ PART II HERE

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