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mo0nfairy · 9 months ago

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

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

chapters :: the masterlist.

word count :: 12.3k.

content warnings :: mdni! yandere!leon, yandere!ada, yandere!jill, yandere!carlos, gender neutral reader, smut (not involving reader), murder, death, violence/gore, suic1dal tendencies, suic1de attempt, alcoholism, weaponry, panic attacks, ptsd, hallucinations, & sleep paralysis.

leon kennedy's yandere traits are . . .

clingy, heroic, & territorial

──── Leon Kennedy hates sunlight in his eyes. Yet still, he finds himself basking in the warm rays.

When the sun hits the window just right, ensnaring the room in its golden hues, he bathes in its light the same way he'd lay in a hot bath. The lulling warmth melts his muscles and eases his body. After he falls asleep in the office after another unsuccessful investigation, your sunset is there for him. When he passes out after a drunken night at the bar, your sunrise is there for him. You're looking down at him always, embracing him in splotches of sunlight.

For a while, Leon thought he knew what it meant to be alive. To touch the hands of guttural pain; to feel the jagged juts of his past nestle against him. But, after that horrid night six years ago, after the exposure to sunshine he did not know existed, he truly touched the scorching surface of rock bottom.

And it is killing him. All because of a singular person.

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

Leon remembers your exuberant eyes, your adorable mannerisms, the glimmer of your smile; he will never forget how you sparked the beginning of his life in Raccoon City.

He remembers the orange lights had swayed in his vision. How everything was stuck in a blistering sea of vertigo. Listening to the fire crackle and creatures groan, Leon coughs from the tickle caught in his throat. There is a weight pressed to his chest, something akin to a cushion. White. Artificial fabrics, a plastic touch. An airbag, maybe?

September 28th of 1998. The memories all return to him like a violent supercut. The yell of his name, the squeal of the brakes, the collision afterward. His precious Jeep Wrangler had now been flipped upside down and he was now caught in the savagery of the aftermath. The blood rushing to his head has the world swirling around him, lulling him into another state of unconsciousness. Leon touches the passenger seat with his red hands, terror ensnaring him upon realizing the seat was empty.

Something blurry in his trail of vision grips his attention. Through the shattered window, a figure stumbles through the brume of the flickering streetlights. Blue glares frame the dirt-stained "R.P.D" sign and the figure hastens towards its doors.

A whimper of your name is stuck on his tongue, as words get trapped in his congested throat. Don't leave me. In Leon's efforts to escape, his foot gets caught on the gear shift. He pulls with all his might, despite the twists and strains his ankle endures. Y/N, please don't. Shards of glass fall from his hair as he wrestles his way out. A few pieces manage to leave shallow nicks against his flesh. Come back to me.

Leon then plummets to the wet pavement, finally free of his demolished car. Frivolous debris and fresh corpses litter his path. His newly-purchased white sneakers (which he bought solely to show off to you) are splattered in the disgusting matter. Stumbling, he is able to persevere through all of this and he quickly trudges through the wreckage.

Leon barrels through the doors of the R.P.D. and surges through the police department. Bullets pierce through the skulls of pedestrians and coworkers roaming the building. Blood paints his body like rainfall. All while he is searching for the face that will end the torment reigning havoc through his mind.

The holding cells are inspected thoroughly while Leon's disposition is one of acute desperation. The adjacent areas are consumed with infected prisoners, all of which he promptly executes. Much to his dismay, however, the rookie does not find you sitting at a bench or clinging to the rusted bars. It is all empty, leading him to become more frantic in his search for you.

Something navy blue then captures his attention. Left on the floor of a cell is a name tag. Something small and wet with blood.

Leon takes the object into his fingers. His heart wrenches when he reads the name stamped on the plastic. The familiar "Mizoil Gas Station" is printed above "Y/N L/N".

A gasp fills the empty silence. Y/N... Where did you go? Why did you leave me?

"Hey.”

He jerks around to the intruding voice.

"Who is that?"

"Stay sharp."

Behind him is a rotting face with dead, paper-white eyes staring right through him. The zombie towers over him, growling for a bite. Leon yanks Matilda from his holster. The action is swift. Adept. Exactly the way he was trained. The echo of a gunshot permeates through the large expanse and fuses with the squelching sounds of brain matter oozing from the zombies' open skull. The corpse falls to the grimy floors with a thud and once more, silence returns.

The click of stiletto heels treads closer to Leon. On the threshold of the prison cell, a woman walks into his train of vision.

Ada Wong.

Finally, a human! Leon thinks to himself. He is quick to take advantage of the company of a normal, uninfected person. The pestering questions he has all tumble out out his mouth like an avalanche of blabbering nonsense.

"Please, you have to help me! I-I'm looking for someone!"

Her lack of articulation urges Leon to continue.

"My name is Leon Kennedy."

He takes a breath before continuing.

"The person I'm looking for- they, um- they're about... this tall." He holds his flat hand up to demonstrate your height. "Their eyes are Y/E/C. Well, maybe not like an exact shade of Y/E/C. It's more like a softer, prettier-"

She scoffs, cutting him off from his incessant rambling. Turning her heel, Ada begins to walk away from the pathetic mess she stumbled upon.

"Wait! Their name is Y/N!”

The woman halts.

“Y/N L/N! Please, you have to help me find them!"

Body tense, her eyes peer at him through the dark barrier of her sunglasses. Her arms weaken, once sternly folded over her beige trench coat.

"They're my partner... Please..."

Ada's lips part. From them, a sharp inhale.

Leon begs her with desperate worry, encompassed in a vehement frame of mind. His plead is spoken with such clarity, Ada can only assume it as truth. And the prospect of you belonging to someone else cuts like a dull knife. It is gross, it is nauseating. Unnatural. Like worms slithering around in her stomach, trying to escape the heart-shattering effect this information has on her.

Then, there is the anger. The betrayal is like a song too loud, the resentment like sheer alcohol on her tongue. Everything manifests into a spirit so overwhelming that Ada cannot find air to breathe. This blanket of rage stirs with her sorrow like two conflicting chemicals. The reaction sparks something iniquitous.

So, in turn, she does what she does best.

Lie.

"Y/N is dead."

A silence settles in the room.

Leon stares. That is all he does.

He stares at Ada and tries to scrutinize her to find some other truth. Anything other than this.

"Ambushed. No possible way of getting them out of that mess..."

Ada speaks with defective emotion. The words land mercilessly and hit with ruthless force.

A harsh ringing noise permeates around Leon. He covers his ears, blunt nails digging into his scalp. He shakes his head no, as though he merely disagrees with fact. It's not true. It can't be! Losing grasp on the only good thing in his life is something he will not accept. He refuses to.

You are his sun. What is existence without its warmth? What will happen to Earth without its necessity?

How can he possibly survive without you?

Ada rolls her eyes at the dramatic scene now playing out at her hand. She ignores her own hypocrisy, of course. If she had learned of your demise, only God knows what blood-curdling reaction she would have. When it comes to Leon, however, every blink of his eye and twitch of his muscle has her riddled with irritation. Does he not know how lucky he is? Ada would endure any pain if she knew she had the comfort of calling you her lover. It is a dream she would kill to make reality.

Leon soon collapses to the floor. A shot of pain courses through his knees from landing harshly on the cement. His hand clutches over his heart, absolutely gutted by the torment forced upon the organ.

Ada then leaves this lie where she puts it down. She struts out of the prison cell, thus continuing her search for wherever in Raccoon City you may be.

You do not need a boyfriend. Especially one as pathetic as Leon Kennedy.

The man in question has been rendered into a puddle of blubbering nonsense. Questions still fill the silent air. How, when, why? Why did it have to be you? The one person on this disgusting planet who did not deserve it. Why couldn't you have just stayed with him and let him devote his life to protecting the precious gem of your life? Why? Why? Why?

Leon has already lost so much, you were the very last thing keeping him afloat. You are his life preserver in the middle of the ocean. He has now succumbed to the thrashing waves, as he was always destined to be swallowed by the sea. Saltwater permeates his lungs and his limp body sways with the lulling current. As though this is what his life was always meant to be: crawling after happiness just to have it yanked away when he gets too close. In the end, his sugar-sweet delusions will always sink down to the ocean floor.

Tears do not escape Leon, no matter the weight of the pain. He does not care for anything but you. Now that you have left him, nothing else matters. Therefore, no emotion can be elicited from him anymore. He has been touched so violently by this intensity, it eradicated any surviving nerves.

His handgun had been left on the ground, a few feet away from him. Assumably falling from his grasp after his knees gave out. He takes the weapon and it shivers in his trembling grasp. It's blurry in his gaze, as his entire vision is overwhelmed with stupor. Should he? God knows he wants to. What is there left to experience in life without you there with him?

As he guides the barrel of his gun to his temple, the static ringing in his ears accelerates in volume. Somehow, though, Leon does not feel fear. He does not feel anything. No dread, no despair — just sheer, hollow nothingness. It infuses his entire body like a roaming virus, ensuring it does not leave any traceable fragments of emotion.

A quivering finger hovers over the trigger. One pull and he will be free.

Leon presses his finger down.

Click.

Nothing.

Click. Click. Click.

Nothing happens.

Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click.

"FUCK!"

Leon chucks the gun to the ground. His yell comes out guttural, a touch away from being a growl.

The clatter of Matilda's impact is not enough to appease him, as this swamped nothingness is more than he can endure. In a fit of defeat, Leon balls his fists and punches the cement floor. Agony surges through his entire hand and blood smudges his knuckles. The sound of his bones cracking still does not satisfy him in the slightest. Nothing can aid him now. Absolutely nothing.

With heavy legs, Leon stands to his feet. He holds his broken fist close to his chest and limps out of the empty prison cell. As he meanders through the station, he finds a set of car keys to a police cruiser on the corpse of his former co-worker. Despite claiming the title of "hero" when he first earned his badge, he does not intend to help anyone tonight. He couldn't save the only thing he ever loved, what kind of hero fails to do that?

The screaming of pedestrians and desperate pleas for help fall on deaf ears. The vehicle's engine rumbles and Leon's dead eyes stare at the road ahead. He leaves Raccoon City forever in his dust.

Six years have passed since the night you were taken from him. Leon wants to die, that much is for certain. The only thing preventing him from giving in is the fact that people need him. They all fail to see that he needs you, as he always will. Besides, he’s got some last few words he wishes to tell Umbrella before he bids this life farewell.

This is his life now. And in a morbid way, he thinks it is romantic. He read somewhere that if a swan dies, their surviving mate will fly into the sky and let themselves plummet to their death. Is that you and him? Should he put the final puzzle piece in your happily-ever-after and end it all? When the sun shines through the window and he wakes up without you again, however, Leon cannot romanticize the empty shell he is trapped within. He is desperate to know why you couldn't have taken his body with you on your way to heaven. Why death couldn’t have brought him eternal peace the very second you passed.

These several years have been spent drowning in alcohol. Leon has no preference for whatever booze he consumes, either. Anything that will make him forget it all will do the trick. At the bar with concerned bartenders or in his almost-empty liquor cabinet at home — he’ll take whatever he can get his hands on.

All his nights are now spent beneath the golden lights of the local bar. Dawn is spent crying on the kitchen floor with a queasy stomach. His days are all the same, too. Saving the lives of helpless citizens, he never forgets how the glimmer of gratitude in their eyes should have been yours.

This night in particular was no different. Leon has nearly drunk the entire bar's alcohol supply in hours. He imbibes a glass of whiskey and cringes at the cheap taste. Too sweet. Poorly made. He does not mind this, however, as anything that can ease the pain is satisfactory enough. And just like any other night, Leon is thinking of you. He watches the ice cubes dance in the cup, arms lazily resting on the sticky countertop. If only things were different, then he wouldn't have to be in this shit-hole right now. He could spend all his nights with you, instead. God, he misses you.

"You look lonely."

Leon didn't have to look up from his glass to know what was happening. At a place like this, it was inevitable.

He never took to heart whenever his coworkers teased him with names such as "pretty boy" or "Leonardo DiCaprio." It seemed to be a "chick magnet," as they so called it. So, when another stranger approaches him with that familiar glint in their eye, he knows what they want from him.

"I can fix that."

Leon looks to where the woman is sitting beside him. Like he does with every courting, he searches her for any remnants of you. If he were honest with himself, these people served as a good distraction. Enough bottles and he can delude his fuzzy brain into believing it was you standing beside him instead of another stranger.

The sight is blurred from his intoxicated state, but his judgment is clear as day. Her face shape and height contrast from yours. She is an inch or two shorter. Her smirk is sensual, not as toothy and adorable as your vivacious smile. Her body is entirely different, as well. Too bony, with wonky proportions that were nothing like you. The only similarity was her eye color. Your exuberant shimmer was missing, but the collection of hues shared puny similarities.

Eh. Good enough.

"Daddy! S-So big- fuck!"

The blaring sounds of heavy rock playing outside the motel room do not ease the headache Leon has, nor does the vociferous calamity of this woman. She doesn't sound anything like you. Too submissive, too goddamn insufferable. In his head, he can only imagine the dulcet sounds he could pull from your pretty lips. This woman was ruining that heavenly fantasy.

"I told you to be fucking quiet."

He uses his strength and pins her harder against the squeaking mattress. Insufferably irritating moans are muffled upon shoving that loud mouth into the pillows. Leon squeezes his eyes shut and puts all attention to the image he has painted in his mind.

You'd be different, much different. He can only imagine you beneath him like this. Harsh demands formed from your dulcet voice, commanding his every move and action. Telling your puppy dog to make you feel good with the promise of a reward — the thought alone never fails to send a shiver through his body. Leon is sure your golden voice praising him is all he needs to die happy.

"Fuck, 's too much. Daddy-"

The reverie shatters as quickly as it was formed. His calloused hands find the woman's hair and he forces her further into the pillows. She is not opposed to being treated roughly in the sheets, discernible in the way her moans and mindless babbles increase in volume.

"Shut your fucking mouth!"

Leon would be different, too. Much softer than this. He would handle every inch of your skin like he's unmasking an archeological masterpiece. God, he couldn't treat you roughly even if he wanted to. Ruin every orgasm of his, leave his body littered with bruises and scratches. He would be a slave to your every whim, as pain at your hand would bring him bliss like no other. And in return, Leon would still touch your body with the same glass-like softness he is only ever capable of treating you with.

He buries his face into the stranger's shoulder and inhales the scent of their perfume. It is nauseating and nothing like you. Artificially sweet and too strong. Leon desperately fills the plot holes in his fantasy and imagines you dolling yourself up for him. Maybe after a tireless day at work, he would arrive home to you greeting him with a surprise. Where you got all dressed up for his eyes only and allowed him to indulge in your body again and again and again and again.

He can only imagine the look in your eyes when you call him your puppy, your husband, your good boy.

The thought sends him over the edge.

It is not a euphoric unfolding. It is sharp. Gross and weak. It is merely something to help him get by, even just barely. At least tonight Leon was able to finish inside a warm body instead of the plastic toy he keeps in his bedside drawer.

He doesn't even remember the name of this stranger. However, that doesn't matter when loud whines of your name jump out of his throat instead. The word tumbles from his mouth as though if he spoke it enough, you would materialize into this bed with him.

The unsatisfied woman does not overlook this. Another person's name shamelessly moaned by the man she thought she would have some late-night fun with, is he serious? She rolls her eyes and escapes from his sweaty hold. As she dresses herself, rehearsing how she'll tell this horror story to her friends, Leon stays on the bed. He does not try to stop her from leaving.

The afterglow is feeble, but he merely pretends it is as strong as he knows it would be with you. He wants to ensnare his body around yours and reaffirm just how deeply he loves you. He just wants to be with you again, no matter what the circumstances are. In the sheets after Earth-shattering sex with the love of his life or back in the grimy streets of Raccoon City, he will take anything if it means looking into your eyes again.

The door closes with a slam. Leon is now alone. But, then again, how could he notice? It is what the past six years have looked like, after all.

2,327 days and counting since he lost you.

If you asked him all that time ago where he thought he'd be right now, he would answer with the hope and happiness he only had then. He'd sit cozy in the little cabin in the woods you and he would occupy, he was sure of it. Summers would be spent in the sunlit lakes and Winters would be spent huddling for warmth by the fireplace. Years would pass like this. All laughter and kisses, snuggles, and healing hearts.

These fantasies haunt him like a horror-flick ghost floating around an attic, as it is what his life could have been had he not failed to protect you. He could have you in his arms this very second, but because of his God-awful driving skills, your body was left behind in the rubble of Umbrella's mistakes. It is what he devoted his entire career to now: tearing down that damned corporation. It is why he is in this motel room, to begin with, where he rots in these musty sheets and sleeps with people he can't remember the names of.

Images of you and him sharing smiles flicker through his brain and lull him. Your eyes are the last thing Leon sees before he falls asleep.

It is a light slumber. He does not dream, he is merely unconscious. When he wakes an hour later, it is like he has not slept at all. As if the short period of time passed in a sheer blink. This is what his sleeping schedule normally looks like nowadays, complemented by the heavy, storm-grey bags beneath his eyes.

The sheet draped over his waist leaves him cold. The Winter weather creeps into the room and engulfs his naked skin in goosebumps. When Leon tries to grasp more of the cheap blankets to drape himself in, he is at a loss when he finds himself unable to move. Almost as though a weight had forced him back onto the bed. He can't move even a muscle; he is wholly and utterly paralyzed.

There's a soft footstep that permeates. Leon's eyes dart around the room, but there is nothing to perceive in the dark emptiness. When he tries to open his mouth and question if that woman has returned, his jaw remains locked shut.

Another footstep. He searches for anything to defend himself from whatever monster lurks in the shadows.

Then, another step. There is no doubting someone is in this room with him. He tries to regain mobility of his body, scrambling to use his fists or to find his gun.

"Leon?"

Something blooms within him. A vibrant, healthy flower persevering through the fiery ashes.

"It's me..."

Home. That is the only word Leon could use to explain your voice. Like the swirling scent of oven-fresh cookies made by his grandmother. Like the imagination in his mother's voice when she read him a bedtime story. Like the scent of freshly mowed grass when he plays outside after school. The cadence and inflection of your words bring a sense of comfort like no other. Honey-sweet in the purest form.

Through the dust-ridden curtains, the hues of streetlight seep into one corner of the room. You step into the light, midnight shadows framing your features. You're dressed in the exact clothing he last saw you wearing, in the absence of all that blood and grime from that night. Those beautiful, beautiful eyes bore into him as you step closer. Sitting down on the edge of the mattress, a smile grows on your lips and robs him of all coherent function.

Leon can't but wonder if this was it, if he had died on this disgusting motel bed and you were finally taking him back into your arms. He doesn't even mind losing all sense of mobility, as long as you keep looking at him like that. Neither his face nor his body can physically react to the rush of emotion that comes with your presence, but it is more than perceptible in his eyes. Sky-gray irises drowned in oceans of fervor. Baby blues overwhelmed with shimmering, flamboyant love.

"If only you had just heard me out, then I could actually be with you right now." Your words, as heavenly as they sound, confuse Leon.

You tuck some fallen wisps of blonde hair away from his face and he swears it is real. His heart hammers like a snare drum. This is real, it must be real, it has to be.

"If only you had just looked at the damn road instead of me. Then neither of us would be in this mess, would we?"

Something shifts in your gaze. That smile he loves so much is torn away and replaced with a scowl. There is now a perceptible rage in your expression, drowned in hollow emotion that clenches his heart.

"And look at you now! Cheating on me with someone you knew for three fucking seconds!? Like everything we have means jack shit to you!"

No, no, no, no, no! It's not like that! She means nothing, she is nothing! He only used her as a placeholder for you! There isn't a single redeeming feature about her that compares to you. Jesus Christ, how could he want anyone else when you exist?

Leon tries to respond, he really does. He wants to tell you how sorry he is, how badly he wishes he could go back six years and change it all. How many hours he has spent with his hands clasped in prayer, apologizing relentlessly to the sky and hoping you'll hear him from down here. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry.

You stand from the bed, hands balled into fists at your side. "You're not gonna say anything? Just lay there and look at me like I'm nothing but-!"

A figure then barrels at you from the shadows. Your infuriated rant was cut short with a gut-wrenching shout when you are knocked to the ground. Saturated flesh peeking from dead skin and groans of hunger plunging from their slack mouth — a zombie had leaped from the darkness and sunk its teeth into your shoulder. Blood spouts from your wound and cascades down your body. You plead for Leon to help you, that he not leave you behind like he did all those years ago. And so desperately, Leon tries to.

A scream is locked behind his closed mouth as he tries to wrestle his way back to you. It pries and fights to escape, as though the force of his shout would be enough to convince this brainless creature to leave you be. Eyes blown wide with dizzying panic, all he can do is watch. His toned chest, sheen with sweat, rises and falls with rapid movements. Muffled whimpers of horror escape from the subtle crease of his mouth.

With every beating second your life fades away, the more Leon latches to any vigor he can grasp. His efforts to save you are overwhelmed in sheer desperation. He cannot let this happen all over again; he cannot lose you a second time. It would kill him, he is sure of it.

Something twitches in his finger. Then his foot. And for a moment, hope flickers in his mind. He can save you and atone for what he failed to do before. When the squelching sounds of flesh torn asunder fill the silence, that hope wears thin.

Like a bag of sand, Leon is able to drag his limp body across the mattress. His jaw weakens, to where sounds of despair are granted the ability to escape in roaring fervency. Off the side of the bed with the speed of a slug, he hits the ground with a harsh thud. Hauling himself onto his stomach, a verbiage of your name leaves his mouth.

He begins to crawl helplessly to where you are, only to stop in his efforts when he finds nothing. The lights from outside still seep into the room and the racket sounds of rock music still play from a room over. But, you have vanished. Leon stares at where you had fallen, scrutinizing every detail for any resemblance of you.

Misery strikes like a gunshot through his chest. Why did he fail again? Why can't he be enough, even for just once?

Why do you always leave him in the end?

He is alone again. Sat by himself on top of the soiled motel carpet and used condom he had frivolously thrown across the room. But, once again, how could he notice? It is what the past six years have looked like. And now, it is what the rest of his life will likely be encompassed in — empty solitude and hopeless dreams of you.

Leon does not sleep for the rest of the night. He is far too restless from the stressful events, terrified of watching that scene play out all over again. The digital clock on the bedside table provided minimum light, where the vibrant red numbers tick away. All he does is lie in this mess, watching the hours drift away.

A dark blue soon ensnares the sky. Birds squawk and sing. Dawn has finally arrived and so does the sun, bathing the room in its glowing orange and pink hues.

Your sunrise welcomes him, once again. The warmth and its serenity fails to placate him, though. Sitting here, he realizes how much of a fool he was to believe it was you in some form. The very second you left, you took everything warm and bright with you. You left him cold and empty and lifeless. You nestled the sun behind your resting eyes when your life faded away.

Cuddling up with you in that imaginary cabin is the only thing that can vitalize him. Two cups of steaming tea, watching the wind sway through the trees from the porch. Oh, the things Leon would take to bring this fantasy to life. To bring you back into the warmth of his arms is all he could ever need, where you will be safe and forever alive.

6:02 AM on the clock, Leon is expected at work in the following hour. Without a morsel of energy left in his feeble body, the thought of standing on this grimy floor overwhelms him with disdain.

Despite how badly he wishes to beat all scientists involved with Umbrella to a bloody pulp, he must take a course of action that abides by legal standards. To do this, Leon must work behind the scenes, ensuring every nail and screw is fastened with flawless finesse. This slow journey toward his goal of tearing Umbrella to shreds has taken a toll on him. No punching bag to take his rage out and his anger nestles itself into his body. Once Umbrella is six feet under, only then will he grant himself permission to join you and let Earth reclaim his body.

Today, Leon is now a part of the Torrents: a Capture-Force team designated to take down Umbrella's rumored return and prosecute those working for them. He has been assigned to replace someone on the team upon their suspension for "severe mental issues,” or whatever that entails. Alcohol heavy on his breath and bags beneath his eyes, Leon arrives at work for the day. He walks through the doors of a sanctuary Umbrella was confirmed to have been located at but has since fled from.

"You're late."

Leon doesn't care to look at the voice, as he already acknowledged and dismissed the vibrant "7:39 AM" on his wristwatch. They should be grateful he was even here in the first place and not rotting in bed.

"Not exactly rooting for employee of the month. Do I look the type?"

Leon's comment causes him to let out a quick huff of laughter. This new guy is much more amusing than his previous coworker, after all.

"Tyrell. Call me 'T."

He takes his hand out for Leon to shake, which he ignores. Tyrell stuffs his hand back into his pocket upon his refusal to reciprocate. An awkward silence settles between them.

"Leon. But, you knew that already."

The blonde then walks away from his new acquaintance. He can't recall the last time he had one, no less a genuine friend. The only person he put honest effort into discerning was you. Everyone else was just painfully bleak background noise stood behind your radiant aura. There is no one in the universe he wishes to befriend anymore, not when you're gone.

Leon treads through the building in search of the office organized by the team. Working behind a desk provides him his wanted rest, but taking part in the action scene provides an acute distraction. With his hands covered in blood and his fingers reeking of gunpowder, it is the most peace he can feel. Punch after punch, shots upon shots — the thought of you is eased little by little. The memory of you still lives on, but it is ephemeral moments like this where Leon can forget it all.

Several workers walk through the halls with heavy boxes marked "EVIDENCE". Others photograph imperative scenery around them, while some are busy scribbling on their notepads. Leon passes all of them without a second thought. However, two of his coworkers in particular capture his attention.

They both guide a surviving patient through the hallway. A young man holding a file in his hands and a perceptible fear in his eyes. The man then swiftly, albeit pathetically, throws himself at Leon and the file is shoved against his chest upon impact. A few of the files' contents slip from the folder and splat against the tiled floors. Hands curled around the sheepskin hems of his jacket, the man begs Leon for his help.

"Please, you have to help me! I-I'm looking for someone."

Leon's stare is harsh. Cold and empty. Any living creature would surely keel over beneath that terrifyingly vacant gaze. The man, riddled with desperation, perseveres through this fear and continues to plead.

"They're my best friend... Please..."

The guards quickly shuffle over to the scene. Their hands grip the man's shoulders, but do not apply any further pressure. They look to Leon, waiting for the demand of their superior.

And without breaking eye contact, Leon speaks.

"Get him out of my sight."

They do as told, nearly shoving the man to the ground in their efforts to escort him out of the building. The hopeless gleam in his eyes should have sparked some form of guilt within Leon. Looking into that man's eyes, however, he feels nothing. Leon instead shifts his gaze to the ground. There, right beneath his boot, the sight of something causes his heart to quicken. Swiftly taking it into his gloved hands, his breath is then yanked from his chest.

In the polaroid is no other than you.

Snow engulfs the ground and you’re dressed in a large coat that practically swallows you whole. Pine trees blanketed in the white matter surround you. With chunky mittens on, you form a heart with your hands. Snowflakes descend from the sky, a few landing on your shoulders and knitted hat. Behind you, a stack of plastic sleds. You're captured with that smile of perfection on your face, the very smile that could rival the sun.

How...?

How did he have this? Leon could've sworn he had every picture of you...

He crosses the hallway in several large strides and finds him in mere seconds. With every sliver of strength in his body, Leon tears the man from the grasp of the guards and shoves him against the wall.

"Where did you get this!?" His voice has been reduced to a gruff timbre. A horrifying whisper.

Gesturing at the Polaroid, the man looks at him in bewilderment.

"W-What are you talking about-?"

Leon's forearm pushes against the base of his throat, pressing harder and arousing choked gasps from his throat.

"I won't ask you again..."

"Me! Me, I-I took it! I took the picture!" The man, wide-eyed and terrified, desperately exclaims the truth. However, his answer seemed to be the exact opposite of what his interrogator wished for.

Calloused hands clasped around his collar, Leon pulls the man back before shoving him back into the wall. A blood-curdling crack, then a grunt pervades the air. The unmistakable scent of iron diffuses from the man's skull, inevitable from the force of the hit. Leon practically snarls through his heavy breaths.

"When!? When'd you take this fucking picture!?"

The man slurs out his answer, now rendered delirious from the strike his head endured.

"Jan... January... La-Last January..."

The world then shatters around Leon.

The tumultuous clamor of everything falling apart before his eyes robs him of any coherent, proper function. These past six years play out like another nightmare. Every sip of alcohol, every aimless nightmare, every mediocre hookup — it all crumbles and joins the rubble of the destruction.

This whole time... This whole time you...

His vision blurs as the revelation settles, swimming through a void of vertigo and devastation. A sharp ringing permeates around him. It complements the sound of his hyperventilating breaths and hammering heartbeat. The firm grasp he once held on the man weakens, to where he scrambles away from Leon and his violent antics.

This whole time you were...

Alive...?

Leon turns his feet and stumbles away. Sweat seeps down his face and then his neck, staining the musk-stained clothes he had not washed in weeks. The sheer luminosity of the white lights, white walls, and white floors do not aid him in his attempts to soothe his sorrows. There's a sudden tightness in his chest. Leon brings his hand up to the painful ache, falling in his efforts to mend his affliction, once again.

"Are you alright, sir?"

The new voice could easily be spoken from miles away. Vanished and impossible to discern. Leon tries to clutch the walls to maintain his stability, but this inevitably fails him, as the shock derived from this epiphany sends his weak body to the unforgiving ground.

"I'm dying..."

He can hardly recognize his own voice. It is now a higher, fearful pitch than he is used to. The other person speaks once more, but he cannot perceive what was said. Their words are merely a quiet boat in a thrashing ocean.

"I can't breathe. I can't breathe."

This feeling of realization bubbles in his chest and infiltrates every inch of his form. His chest is overwhelmed with panicked breaths. Up and down, up and down. The stranger then sprints away from Leon. Their shouts for a doctor are distorted, now an echo Leon cannot discern.

Voices from his past speak to him from all directions. As though the very walls surrounding him were taunting him. Mocking every failure of his.

"Leon- LEON-!!"

"And look at you now! Cheating on me with someone you knew for three fucking seconds!?"

"I wanted to. I wanted to kill him."

"Ambushed. No possible way of getting them out of that mess..."

"If only you had just looked at the damn road instead of me."

His world has been torn to paper-thin shreds. Then, it all goes dark. Leon is left alone and unconscious in this vast abyss of nothingness.

Tyrell sighs in frustration. He wonders why this team has such a knack for hiring people with "severe mental issues".

A harsh cut to reality is what Leon was next met with. Inside this shoebox-sized hospital room, ragged belts are restrained around his limbs. Doctors rush in and out of the blinding-white room. A myriad of drugs course in his system, intended to ease the rampant panic pumping through his body. The aftermath of his panic attack was fresh, yet still, all Leon could think about was you.

How you, his sunshine, his sweet baby, have been alive all this time.

Leon thrashes and fights against his restraints, as though you were just outside the door, waiting for him to come scoop you in his arms and close the distance between you at once. For the umpteenth time, several nurses race into the room and sedate him. Again, he is forced into another fit of unconsciousness. This routine will go on to repeat numerous times. Knowing you are out there somewhere, alone, makes for a man inconsolable.

Several days pass before Leon is brought to a state of mediocre tranquility. His heart is still rampant, but with fear of more time wasted without taking proper action, he abides by the doctor's demands. He will do anything to get to you, after all. Kneel before God, succumb to the Devil. Face him with the most torturous, humiliating, gut-wrenching fate with the promise of your return and he will simply smile in response. Leon will lay with blood painting his teeth and purple bruises caked into his skin, unhinged with euphoria knowing you are the prize at the end of the tunnel.

Mere picoseconds had passed before he sprung into action. He is swift to return to his work. Fervently, he begins scouring through every detail Umbrella left behind to pinpoint the exact location you reside at.

The most valuable piece of evidence was security camera footage. A prominent clue that made Leon's stomach coil like a snake ensnaring itself around its prey. Outside of the window to your bedroom, the night-vision camera highlights the scene of two intruders. With careful ease, they pull your unconscious body through the room and flee to the adjacent forest with you in their arms.

Jill Valentine and Carlos Oliveira are their names.

Or, as Leon prefers to refer to them, two names that have now been added to his lengthy list of those who will face his wrath.

The team has theorized the two have been working for Umbrella and were assigned to sneakily escort survivors to a new location. Due to this, patients still in this present location are now being sent to a hospital guarded by the Torrents. A place where they will be kept far away from Umbrella's grasp. What the team can't piece together, however, is why the two never came back to take more survivors. They had plentiful opportunities, but you, Y/N L/N, are the only missing patient. Or, as the team has now assigned your code name as, "Baby-Eagle".

Now, Leon is coursing through Spain. Guns strapped in their holster, knives out at the ready, and a reveling rage in his eyes — he counts every second spent away from you. The chilling temperatures gust against his skin like sharp teeth as he practically tears the country asunder. All that matters is finding the face that has been stamped in every dream of his for the past six years.

Alive. Alive. Alive.

He still can't believe it. You are alive.

If Leon grants himself permission to revel in this fact, he will lose what little control he still possesses over himself. God knows how much he needs the slivers that still remain. These feelings, despite all, have kindled strength Leon never recognized. A new spark; a fresh, riveting chapter. Emotions which only you, some sort of sorcerer, are capable of conjuring.

A day has now passed of his relentless search. More and more does fear cradle Leon. Like a warm blanket nestled around his heart, he is horrified by the silence that ventures through the land of Los Iluminados. The mere thought of potentially stumbling across you, lifeless, is enough to evoke a gag from the back of his throat. He cannot handle that. He cannot lose you again.

The dim light of dusk irradiates the loading docks. Every rushed step Leon takes causes the decrepit surface to moan weakly from the weight. He scrutinizes every shipping container, every nook and cranny, every barrel splattered with yellow paint. He becomes increasingly more ridden with desperation as his lasting hope begins to flicker.

Leon turns a corner and finds it: the sight he has been crying every night to see for six years. His mouth speaks before his brain can emulate these soul-crushing sensations.

"Y/N...!?"

You turn your head to the intrusion. Leon is shocked he had not died right there beneath your gaze.

You, his epic, undying love, rest there as though Botticelli painted you as the focal point for 'Birth of Venus'. Sat against some paper sacks like Venus stood on her scallop shell, Leon has never seen a sight quite as perfect as this. Strikingly similar to the pearl Venus resembles, you and her are pure and exquisite as you are brought to life. In a way, it is precisely the events which take place now. Six years wrestling with the burden of your death, only for you to be reborn before his very eyes like the natural, divine God you are. Absolutely, irrevocably perfect in your stance.

Leon stands frozen in place. Staring at this work of art, this utter masterpiece mere yards away from him. He is then taken aback when he feels something wet trickle down his cheeks. What he assumes to be rainfall is actually... tears?

All these years, he has begged the universe to feel his emotions. Or to feel anything, for that matter. It will not bring you back, as he wholly prayed for every night, but it would bring temporary, weak relief. Right now, as though you had some form of superpower, Leon cries. He cries like he has never before. His face twists into an ugly scrunch; he can feel the hot tears and stringy snot seep down his skin. He listens to the gut-wrenching sobs protruding from his chest and holds his hand over his heart, overwhelmed by the intensity the organ is enduring.

Despite the tragic scene, Leon has never been happier. The journey these six years have taken him on has been rough. Irrevocably soul-crushing. Seeing you here, beautiful as you always were, makes everything worth it — utterly, indubitably, and completely.

Then, someone else interrupts.

Ada Wong, a few years older, steps into view. Guarding you from the unwelcome intruder.

The epiphany strikes like a broken heart. It is not betrayal, as he has never trusted Ada. Rather, it is a flood of humiliation. It is absolute shame, unadulterated and pure. How could he have been such a fool?

All this time, Ada had kept you with her. She was the reason he was apart from you; she was the distance that stood between two soulmates. That must be the story, right? She sunk those acrylic claws into your pretty skin and took you away from him, spewing lies about your death and granting Umbrella access to you.

Leon is hit with this epiphany. Hit with what he perceives to be the truth. And it makes him alive with rage.

"It was you, wasn't it...?"

The silence is shattered by his voice. Sewn with fury and nestled deep inside him. His attention, once solely devoted to the love of his life, has now been shifted towards someone else. The one he believes to be responsible for these six years of sheer agony.

"This whole fucking time-!"

In one swift motion, Leon storms over with his fingers clenched to his holster. You stand from the paper sacks and use your body as a shield between Ada and him. Your hand ghosts over Leon's chest to prevent any more unwanted violence. And how unaware you are of the sheer impact your physical touch has on this man.

For a moment, just a fleeting second, Leon is able to overlook the context of the circumstances. Your hand barely makes contact with his body, and from them, he can feel your warmth. The same warmth he has been chasing after; the same warmth he has killed himself over and over to try and retrieve again. It is like a gentle breeze, like tepid bath water. Somehow, your simple touch has pacified his rage as though it were merely child's play to you. Something Leon never thought was feasible.

And just like always, Ada Wong is there to shatter yet another trance.

"Have you really gone so far off the deep end, that you think you could ever amount to being their boyfriend? You truly believe you deserve that title?" Ada laughs. A deep, mocking chuckle. "Are you really that delusional or just naturally blonde?"

You look at Ada and speak for the first time.

"'Boyfriend?'"

An expression of puzzlement is plastered on your face. In return, their heads whip to stare at you, brows furrowed while searching for confirmation.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Leon was never my boyfriend...?"

Their confusion deepens. Ada questions how she could have so foolishly fallen for a fantasy this dumb boy created. Leon questions why you are telling her such lies. You've been dating for almost seven years now, what are you talking about?

"Y/N/N, you don't have to lie to her. You know I won't let her hurt you."

Now, it is your turn to be just as perplexed as they both are. What the fuck is he talking about?

As you're busy scrutinizing him for an explanation, Ada grasps hold of your forearm. Protectively and with softness, she guides you away from the deranged antics of Leon. You lean into her touch in response, as your trust in her is stronger than whatever you feel for him. Especially after the events you and Ada have both endured today.

The man in question, however, does not favor this action. With a swiftness that makes you dizzy, Leon shoves her off of you. Ada falls to the ground from the force of his strength but gracefully springs to her feet. Eyes narrowed and hunting knife in hand, she is ready for battle.

A shriek then falls from your mouth when Leon takes his pistol from its holster but is replaced with shocked silence when Ada kicks the gun from his grasp with her stiletto heel. A stab towards his chest is easily blocked by his meaty forearm, but she still manages to retaliate and surges a punch across his jaw.

Everything happens so fast that it is impossible for you to keep up with the speed of it all. When Ada drops to her feet, encasing her leg around Leon's ankles and sending him to the floor, the loud clamor of his harsh landing takes you back to a few days ago. That bang! is all too familiar. The fire of gunshots out of Jill's gun and the pounding of their fists against flesh — these memories return more harshly than before. Your heart hammers with dread and adrenaline, as though the same inner turmoil has returned yet again.

Once again, who do I choose? The clingy customer at Mizoil, the overly affectionate Superwoman, or myself?

In a state of pure instinct, you do what you predominantly fail at the most. Run.

You don't anticipate how close they may be behind, or if two of your past lovers may be waiting somewhere in the forest. You do not pay these thoughts any attention, for that matter. Focused entirely on the path ahead, you run like you never have before. And if it weren't for the rampant adrenaline coursing through your system, you could say you've become familiar with this forest. It is almost ridiculous how much you have raced past all these trees. Burning lungs, numb legs and all — oh, this is really getting old.

When a sudden force knocks you to your feet, you can feel yourself begin to succumb to lethargy. The relentless sprint and post-laser-induced pains have become too much for your body to endure. Shifting your gaze up, however, you are met with a burst of energy when you see that you have collided with... A person?

Thick gear is strapped to his strong body. Glasses are rested upon the bridge of his nose. This is the first stranger you have seen in months and you do not know how to handle it.

"Oh, shit. It's really you..." His concerned gaze peers at you through his foggy eyewear.

When his fingers ghost over your arm, you flinch away from him. You do not mean to do this, but your body, riddled with turmoil and trauma, reacts before your brain can.

"It's alright, it's alright..." His voice goes softer. "My name is Tyrell. I'm here to help you."

He reaches a cautious hand out to you, as though you were a feeble, terrified animal backed into a corner. Your trust has been worn thin, but whatever fight left in your system has entirely perished. You cannot run anymore; you cannot defend yourself. If this is death, then you will welcome it with open arms. At least you can say you've made it this far.

Lifting a shaky hand up, you let out a gentle gasp when you make physical contact with him. With tender encouragement, Tyrell brings you to your feet. Your tired legs wobble as though you were a baby fawn. Touch that does not inevitably follow with romantic expectations is something foreign to you. This level of kindness has almost become a stranger. Although you would never verbalize it, his touch feels good. It is a comfort; a softness.

Before you know it, your eyes flutter shut. Your body fails you and you collapse into Tyrell's arms. Now, unconsciousness comes as a solace, instead of that familiar trepidation.

And so engrossed in their own feral need for dominance, neither Ada nor Leon had taken notice of your sudden disappearance.

Fresh bruises and blood splatters permeate their bodies. What neither of them realizes about the other is that Leon fights hard, yes, but Ada doesn't fight fair. In a matter of several seconds, she takes the man to the metal floors, once again.

Leather heels pressed to his neck, she points his own pistol to his face.

"Now stay down."

Leon has never been one to back down. Even with death staring directly into his eyes, never once has he begged. However, with you here, alive, he can't bear to be torn from you again.

"Don't... Please, I-I'll do whatever you want. Just please don't take me away from them. Not again..."

Ada is nearly struck dumbfounded by this new side of him. Leon Kennedy, the savior of the president's daughter, one of the few survivors of Raccoon City, is begging for his life? What has she done to this man? Or, above all, what have you done to him?

"Tell me what Umbrella wants with Y/N."

Leon's eyes trail off behind her, seemingly searching for something with frantic movements. Her words had merely gone through one ear and out the other. His silence is only met with frustration.

"I've kept you away from them for this long." Her finger moves to hover over the trigger. "I can easily turn those six years into forever."

"Where did Y/N go?" Leon cuts her off.

Ada nearly snaps her neck with how fast she turns around. Dark eyes scanning the loading docks, her stomach sinks into a sea of dread when she cannot find you. Leon scrambles to his feet and searches alongside his nemesis. Shouts of your name echo into the gloomy skies; their hammering hearts could rival a war drum.

From here, yet another search for you begins. And between them, there is now an unspoken agreement, a newfound alliance. Although their plans rarely come to fruition, they have both found a conclusion together. The two are now wholly focused on the scheme they will achieve or die striving for.

Find you, ensure your safety, and keep you forever in their arms.

A warm, wet rag pressed against your forehead is what you awaken to next. The sudden shift into consciousness causes you to jerk back. Your eyes burst wide, scrutinizing as much of your environment as you can.

You're finally out of that dark forest. Now, you've been rested upon a dilapidated couch. Damp clothes are still stuck to your body, but a thick comforter has been draped upon you. The golden lamplight highlights Tyrell, who sits on the coffee table beside you. With a bowl of water and a rag in his hand, he looks at you with a concerned gleam in his gaze.

You are brought to a mild sense of ease once you comprehend your surroundings. You do not have it within you to trust anyone, but for some reason, this man has brought tranquility you cannot explain. Safety has become a rarity. And you gobble every breadcrumb of it you are able to garner.

"Welcome back." He jokes. His tone is still quiet, as it has been. Careful.

Your throat aches, but you still speak.

"Where am I?" You nearly cringe at how scratchy, how pathetic your voice is.

"My house." This does not calm you. Tyrell notices.

"Hey, no one can get you in here. You are safe, I swear it." His assurances help ease you. He, once again, takes notice of this before continuing.

"I'm sure you have a 'lotta questions for me, huh? I got some for you, too."

"Umbrella. What do they want from me?"

"That's a good question because I don't know either. It's what we're trying to figure out." You furrow your brow, to which he answers to your confusion. "I work with a team called the Torrents. We've been tasked with locating Umbrella and finding any survivors. You were top of our list, 'Baby-Eagle'. Now that you're safe and sound, my teammates can finally get some sleep."

Your smile grows at that nickname. God, when was the last time someone elicited a genuine smile from you?

"We think they may have been testing on some of the patients they have. Do you happen to know anything about that?"

Then, the dread settles with the realization. Jill and Carlos were right this whole time. When you would travel to the ends of the Earth to defend that corporation, it was all for a lie in the end. When Jill and Carlos saved you from them, you paid them back with cruelty and distrust. You left them both in the dust when all they wished to do was save you. Should you have ever left them?

"What about Carlos Oliveira? Jill Valentine? We know they had, um... taken you. If you're willing to talk about them, I'm all ears. 'Got all night, anyways."

There Tyrell goes again. The voice of reason in a bubble of incoherent regret.

"All I-um... All I remember is being at the sanct- er, Umbrella. I drank some tea and then I woke up in Jill and Carlos' house. The next several months, they-uh, they convinced me we were in a... relationship, of some sort. Matt- or Umbrella, found us in the end. They all hurt each other. Real bad. Then, I ended up here." Your words are quiet and broken, but Tyrell manages to pick up every cracked piece of your voice.

"Okay. I see..." He nods. "Do you think Jill and Carlos could have possibly been working for Umbrella?"

This question leaves you taken aback, evident in your dramatic reaction and scrunched face.

"God, no! They despised Umbrella. And I... I defended Umbrella. I thought they helped me, I thought they were the good guys. Every time Jill and Carlos talked shit about them, I would get so-" You interrupt yourself with a coughing fit.

Reaching to his side, Tyrell holds a plastic bottle of water in his large hands. The prospect of drugs floating through the liquid fills you with apprehension. However, with your throat on fire, you eagerly take the bottle and nearly down the entire beverage. Tyrell is one of the good ones, he wouldn't do that to you. You're sure of it.

"It's alright. You don't have to answer any more of my stupid questions, don't worry. All you 'gotta do is rest."

If you were more conscious and without the weight of fresh trauma, you'd make a joke of how he should be a voice actor with such a soothing voice like his. Tyrell's hand finds your shoulder and softly guides you back down to the couch. You ignore the unfamiliar, teenage-love-like bolt of electricity that flows from his touch and you follow his lead. When your head hits the rough fabric of the pillow, you let your heavy eyes fall.

When a door down the hallway bursts open, you cannot tell if you had been asleep for hours or if you had slept at all. Without Tyrell's presence, that all-too-familiar sense of terror returns. When you are barely able to discern his muffled voice through the walls, that terror is slightly diluted with ease. The context is what lies outside this room still has you riddled with fear.

Then, like every cheesy romance film you've ever seen, Leon Kennedy stands on the threshold of the living room entrance.

You are barely allowed a mere second to process his presence before he is barreling for you. His arms, thick and warm, ensnare around your waist. He exhales your name with a breathless tremor, burying his head further into the crevice of your neck. And you melt into him. After everything you've been through, a hug is something you are in dire need of. Leon croons in response, latching onto you tighter. Nestling himself closer against you like a touch-starved, needy puppy-dog.

"Oh, sunlight... I was so worried...!" Although this man has suffered drastic changes in the six years you've been without him, he never seems to have let go of that saccharine tone. Unbeknownst to you, you are the only one capable of summoning that side of Leon.

Although you feel safe in the comfort of Tyrell's home, there is still that stagnant terror fizzing in your stomach. A myriad of questions overwhelm your brain. What has happened? How much time has passed? Where is Ada?

You weaken your hold on him. He does not like that. "Leon. Please, I need to know-"

"Shh..." He interrupts, his hands trailing up your form until they grasp hold of your face. His grip on you, tighter than ever, shifts so he can gaze into your eyes.

"Just let me look at you..."

And that he does. Seconds, then minutes pass. All Leon does is stare directly into you. As though every inch of your irises were being studied to memory by him. As though he was pulling the depths of your soul to the surface of your eye, all for him to gawk and goggle at. It should make you blush and avert your gaze, as the characters normally do in those romance movies. However, you can't bring yourself to. You feel uncomfortable and scrutinized. As though you are restrained to a metal table for strangers and doctors to poke and prod at.

The doorbell then rings and the echo roams through the halls. You are broken from this entrance with Leon, but he is not. God, how could he?

With you here, all the cruelty he has been faced with is now wrapped together in a pretty bow. It was all a present, he now realizes. Everything that has happened led him to the personification of utmost, perpetual happiness. So, you must forgive him if he finds himself staring for too long (not that he even realizes, for that matter). It is impossible to fathom the flood of euphoria rushing through him, hence the dumbfounded, love-struck expression stamped on his face.

"Y/N..." He exhales, honey dripping from his voice.

Although he does not wish to close his eyes, Leon cannot imagine a better time to kiss you. Where the music swells, the candles glimmer, the moon gleams. It is what he has been dreaming about for six years, after all.

Just as Leon leans in, his intentions are cut short. Someone else, once again, interrupts.

Tyrell avoids the death glare from Leon and focuses on you, oblivious to how this action is the root of Leon's fury.

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything. Someone was just here for you, Y/N."

Carlos and Jill are the first people who enter your mind, here to take you back to the affection-ridden toxicity of their humble abode. When Tyrell holds his hands out and displays what this stranger left, however, you're taken aback.

"She claimed to be your wife...?"

Tyrell informs you with uncertainty in his voice.

"And she left this."

What he then gives to you is a plushie, one you remember all too well. It is an opossum, the very same opossum you cuddled with every night during your time at the sanctuary. You've missed him very much whilst you were stuck with Jill and Carlos. Despite your expressed wishes, they never made the effort to retrieve your darling opossum. Why cuddle some measly fabric and cotton when you can cuddle them instead?

You let out a sigh of relief. Thank God it is not those two at the door.

The only striking difference in your fuzzy friend is the blood-red ribbon tied around the opossum's neck. Wedged between the silk and faux fur is a folded piece of paper. Both Tyrell and Leon watch as you open the letter, digesting the contents written on the surface.

In red ink, "Wait for me, petal..." is written with flawless, cursive handwriting. Beneath, a dandelion is drawn. The pappus drifts through the wind and scatters across the paper.

Ada?

Why is she here? Where has she been?

Or, more importantly, how the hell did she find your opossum?

A rough, sharp gasp sprouts from Jill's throat when she awakens.

A flickering light sways above her, the sight blurred in her tired gaze. Her body aches from the awkward position she was unconscious in. Lifting her weakened body up, Jill discerns several bodies, painted in blood and grime, that had been splayed in a frivolous mess. There are miscellaneous documents scattered amongst this violent disarray. Shifting her distorted gaze, she finds two metal doors that had been sprung open. How the hell did she get inside of a truck? What caused it to crash in the first place?

Using the dented walls for support, she stumbles forward. Black dots dance in Jill's vision for a moment, before returning to a hazy blur as she staggers out of the vehicle. With an abrupt grunt, she collapses into the mud. Her hands, stained with dirt, hold her ribs in an attempt to ease the stagnant pain.

For this simple moment, Jill is alone in the world. When the most important thing in her life finally flashes through her mind, the pumping of her heart accelerates.

Y/N... Where did you go?

Memories of her last encounter with you return, as well. It harbors terror like no other. She speaks your name and it sprouts from her throat in a desperate call.

Jill's breath quickens when she discerns a voice. The indubitable sound of someone crying for help echoes through the forest. She turns to the source with hope and worry shimmering in her eyes. Oh, it's her baby, her butterfly! You need her help!

"Y/N...! I'm coming..." Her voice is weak, but her attempts are the entire opposite.

Jill limps through the forest, clambering over wreckage with frantic effort. Averting her blurred gaze to the sound of cries, her face drops when she finds something entirely different.

That doctor you are evidently so infatuated with is stuck beneath a pile of rubble. His face appears as though it had been sunken in. Drowned in a mess of gore.

And sitting on top of the doctor is no other than Carlos Oliveira, whose fists are painted in that same gore.

His clenched fists plunge into Matt's face over and over and over again. His teeth are barred and bloodied like some sort of animal. His voice is several octaves lower than ever before, all guttural growls and grunts like some sort of rabid creature. It is something Jill has never seen before. Not in Raccoon City, not when they took you from the sanctuary, not even when she took you out for a ride on her motorcycle. He is now a monster in its absolute form.

However, Carlos is not something she is concerned with at the moment. She hurls herself over to the two and shoves Carlos off of Matt. He falls to the ground with a loud thump and a harsh curse. Jill ignores his dramatic reaction, before climbing atop of Matt and ensnaring her hands around his red-stained neck. Jill then proceeds to interrogate him of your whereabouts.

"What did you do to them? Where the fuck did you take them!?" Jill does not recognize herself, either. Her voice has morphed into a low, violent tone, an inflection she never knew she was capable of producing.

Matt does not respond to her pressuring questions. He chokes and gurgles on chunks of blood, teeth, and spit. His eyes, now puffy and swollen from the relentless blows they have endured, gape at her in confused terror. However, not that Matt could even be given the chance to respond. Jill glances at the sudden movement in her peripheral and is met with Carlos' fist striking her cheek. The force of the punch sends her to the dirt.

"This is all your fucking fault, Jill!" Her ears almost ring from the sheer volume of his shout.

Once again, it is a side of Carlos she has never seen before. She can take a punch, that's for damn sure. God knows she's handled worse. But fuck, is he out for blood right now.

"If you had never taken Y/N outside, they never would've wanted to leave in the fucking first place!" The tremble in the back of Carlos' throat jeopardizes his intimidation factor. Of course, he is crying, Jill sighs to herself.

Her lanky fingers press into the damp ground to stabilize herself. Before she can bring herself back to her feet, however, something catches her eye. A single document among the millions. She takes the closest one into her grasp and reads through the classified contents. With that damned Umbrella logo in the corner, Jill is fully aware of what evil, corrupt plans await her in the following passage.

As Carlos sobs like a child behind her, whimpers of "my baby" and "come back to me" filling the silent air, she scours through the information printed on the page. Three names are stamped in bold: Jill Valentine, Carlos Oliveira, and Y/N L/N. More survivors collected from Raccoon City, they claim. There are reports of your physicality and state of being, accompanied by their predictions on how you'll react to their new testing. "Las Plagas" is what they refer to it as.

At the very bottom of the document, most imperatively, is a series of coordinates to their new location.

With this newfound, fruitful information, Jill trudges over to Carlos for additional aid. When she finds him practically tucked into a ball, sobbing his lungs out, she cannot restrain herself from rolling her eyes.

"Get up. Get up, pussy, come on-!" When she tugs on his arm, he pushes her harshly away from him.

"You don't understand!” Brown eyes, overwhelmed with tears, glare at her in accusation. “I can't live without them..."

Jill is swift to counter back. "Neither can-fucking-I! And we will never see 'em again unless you man-up and fuckin’ listen to me!"

This grabs his attention.

"So, are you just gonna sit there and fuckin' whine about it or are you gonna help me?"

With a sniffle, Carlos nods in agreement.

"Good. Now get your shit together and find me a goddamn map."

Jill does not waste another second before springing into action. She begins with a thorough scrutinization of the scene of the crash, searching for any specific landmarks that will inform them of their current whereabouts. When all she finds is a street sign made of decaying wood that reads "Los Iluminados," she knows her luck is wearing thin.

When Carlos announces with a cracked voice his discovery, Jill limps with urgency to him. Nestled beneath the passenger seat is a map, crumbled and stained with filth. Jill yanks the paper from his hands and searches for the street they are currently stuck on, while also discerning the coordinates Umbrella had disclosed in their document.

Meanwhile, Carlos chokes out demands left and right. Asking her what all of this is for, and how this will help him in his efforts to reunite with his sweet bumblebee. Despite his irritating questions, she does not respond to him. She is too engrossed in her own head, manipulating her detective skills.

"There." Jill finally breaks her fit of silence.

Presenting the map to Carlos, she points to where the coordinates line up.

"That's where Y/N is."

A beat passes as Carlos, too, inspects the contents before him. Then, he snatches the map from Jill's hands. He storms off in the direction she advised with a desperate vengeance in his disposition.

When Jill takes a step to follow him, something clutches around her ankles. With a sharp gasp, she looks down to identify the sudden matter. When the hopeful fraction of her mind told her it could be you, she was met with disappointment when she finds Matt. Whining and pleading for her help, blood still oozing from his butchered head and seeping into the mud below.

Jill stares at the man with absolutely nothing in her eyes. She, instead, snatches a loose, sharp twig from the mess of detritus scattered around. Before Matt can obtrude another helpless plead, she drives the stuck directly into his eye. Blood squirts from the fresh wound like a fizzy soda. One last gurgle for air and his body finally goes limp.

She spits on his corpse. Then, Jill turns back to follow Carlos on his trail.

Wherever you may be, she will find you. Even if it kills her.

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

THE BONUS TRACK !

❝ I TRY TO FALL FOR HER TOUCH,

BUT I'M THINKING OF THE WAY IT WAS . . . ❞

long wait but we back again babyyyyy

gif creds :: leon.

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urmomisunderme2 · 3 months ago

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Guilty as sin

Warning: daddy kink, wet dreams, watching (i don’t remember what it’s called😭) and I don’t remember but smut

When your back for home for summer you never know what could happen, especially with your dads best friend Natasha…

——-

"Nat fuck nat please-oh god please" you moan as Natasha rubs your clit "you like that detka hm?" You buck your hips toward her hand but she moves away"no natty no please-" you whine "patience little girl... you gonna love this even more" you watch her standing at the end of the bed taking of her belt and jeans and pulling down her boxers just enough for her cock to stand proud, she moves back onto be and lines up to your core and just when she's about to split you open... *buzz buzz buzz* your alarm goes off, yet another night you've had a wet dream about your daddy's best friend.

Being home for summer was amazing, it was nice to see your dad again although that feeling can get old fast sometimes, this time faster then anytime before when you had only be home for about 5 minutes when your dad asked if you’d been getting any at uni, what the fuck, that was a crazy thing to ask but that’s what Tony stark was like as a dad and honestly it wouldn’t be as awkward as it was if you didn’t have a crush on his best friend who you’d be having wet dreams about for months.

You get out of bed put on your silk robe that Natasha had given to you for your 19th birthday a few months ago, you walk out your room and down to the kitchen to get a glass of orange juice. As you walk through the hallway and get closer to the kitchen you can hear your father talking with someone. You enter the kitchen to see the woman featuring in all your pantie ruining dreams, Natasha Romanoff looking as gorgeous as ever even in her black t shirt and grey sweatpants making parts of her really stand out, this was not what you needed after the dream you just had.

Natasha smiles as she see you wake in starting to walk over to you from where she was standing leaning against the counter.

“Such a sleepy girl” she says pulling you into a hug, something you hadn’t given her in months since your crush had amplified to this crazy level of neediness “finally a hug from my girl” she said pulling you closer but all you can focus on now is how you can feel her shaft against your front. You had known Natasha your whole life and as soon as you started to have crushes she was your first and longest, you’d had a crush on her now since you where twelve obviously the feelings you felt had changed a bit over time with a sexual need too.

“Hi” you say as she pulls away “hey dad” you greet your dad and walk over to the fridge to get some orange juice “how was your sleep?” Your dad asked, he could tell something was up, you blush at his question as you fill your glass and turn back around to face them, leaning back against the counter opposite them “Emm…okay I guess” your face was only blushing more “you don’t seem very sure” Natasha looked at you with an unreadable expression “just like dreams and stuff you know” “dreams not nightmares, ohhhh someone having sex dreams” Tony teases, you look over at him with a death glare can’t he just be a normal dad for once “dad really?” You look over at Natasha embarrassed “hey don’t look at me to save you I’m just as interested” Natasha smirks.

“I’m not even- ugh imma shower” you leave the room before you somehow reveal who it’s about. You go back to your room and into the bathroom as you had an ensuite bathroom, you drop the robe and turn the shower on, after a minute you walk into the rainfall shower.

You can’t help yourself as your had slides down to clit rubbing in tight circles as you think of Natasha, imagining her doing this to you, kissing down your neck, telling you what she wants to do to you “Natasha… fuck…” you moan as you cum glad that the house you live in is absolutely giant.

You step out of the shower and wrap yourself in a towel, walking into your bedroom jumping a little when you see Natasha standing in your room with a smirk on her face “Natasha what are you..” you stop before you finish just now realising she may have heard you. “I came to leave you some pastries for after your shower but I just couldn’t help but stay when I heard those lovely noises you where making detka”

You freeze as Natasha walks over to you pulling you in and kissing you harshly, her hands falling to your ass. You both pull away for breath.

“On the bed princess” you walk backwards until you fall onto the bed and spread your legs open, your towel had fallen off at some point as you only notice. Natasha stands at the end of the bed “touch your clit detka” she commands and you do, moaning a little as your body is still sensitive from your previous orgasm. Natasha watches over you with her hand falling into her pants starting to touch herself too.

“If you’re a good girl and tell me want you want you can have more princess” you speed up wanting even more but it’s not her, it’s not enough without her touching you “I want you natty please, rip me open please, do anything to make I don’t care just fuck me!” You scream and before you know if Natasha is on top of you and pushing herself in your cunt “call me daddy detka” you can’t help but hold back your moan, Natasha was so big, you’d never had anything this big in you before “yes daddy”

“Good girl” Natasha says kissing and nibbling at your neck “faster daddy please daddy I need to…” Natasha listens to you speeding up and bringing one of her hands down to rub your clit “cum for daddy princess…daddy’s gonna cum in you…fill you up with my baby’s” a few seconds later you cum with a scream.

Natasha keeps railing into your sensitive core “daddy I-“ you whine but are interrupted by Natasha “fuck detka fuck daddy’s gonna cum” and she does, filling you full with her cum.

She fall down next to you giving you a kiss on the cheek “I’m glad I heard you in the shower, god I wanted you so bad and hopefully now you’ll be filled with my baby’s all plump and pregnant”

——

Tag list: @idkwhatever580

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whorediaries-09 · 8 months ago

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don't blame me;

pairing- priest!remus lupin x reader warning(s)- illusions to sex, dark themes. (let me know if i should add more). [this is a dark fic. your media consumption is your choice and i'm not responsible for it. please do not continue under cut if you're uncomfortable.] a/n- i found this in my drafts. i have no idea why this wasn't published yet but okay.

ps- not using my regular taglist since this is a topic many people can be uncomfortable with.

little train inspiration (for god's sake please use headphones) 700 followers celebration post.

' and baby, for you, i would fall from grace, just to touch your face. '

remus slowly read the verse, the thick spine of the bible tucking into the flesh of his thighs.

'amen,' he said, speaking his final lines of the verse. the sound from his lips was blinded over the noise of the hinges of the church door opening. he snapped his head, eyes darting towards the entrance. the soft sunlight peaked through the glass, creating a beautiful kaleidoscopic effect.

'hello?' his voice echoed through the empty church. when his eyes met yours, he couldn't stop but dawn his eyes upon yours. you were clad in the white clothes you regularly wore when you went to the church. but there was something different around it. perhaps an extra sinch at the waist which highlighted the curve of your breasts. or was it the sunlight behind you making a halo like effect which made you look like an descending from heaven.

'oh, it's you,' he gathered, his fingers raking over the bible, closing the hardcover. 'come on in, then,'

'am i interrupting anything?' you asked. your voice was soft, like cool breeze blowing after the first rainfall. he chuckled.

'no, no you're not interrupting anything,' his statement ended, clashed with the sound of the door closing. you walked towards him, twiddling with your thumbs, your eyes transfixed on the statue of jesus.

'do you need something? i can leave you in peace if you prefer.' he said, standing up and dusting his clothes. he wasn't wearing his usual robes. he had opted for gray slacks paired with a soft blue shirt.

'no it's fine,' you walked towards him. 'i actually like some company, when i pray,' he smiled, his gaze smoothening down on your form.

'no no, i understand,' he said walking towards you, his thumb raking over the rosemary beads in his palm. 'lots of people prefer company in the church. physical company anyway. he,' his index pointed towards the stature of jesus, 'is always here.'

'a constant companion,' you said, recalling his words from a few months ago. 'i remember that. you enlightened me with that information during our gospel interpretation session.' he chuckled softly,

'i'm surprised you remember i said that. that was quite a few months ago,' you nodded, twisting your fingers together.

'speaking of which,' he whispered, so as to not let his voice echo. 'erm, you have been missing for a few weeks.' you stare at him, your eyes glossy.

'are you mad? that i've been missing?' he moves forward, waving his hands quickly reassuring,

'no no, not mad at all. i just,' he pauses, as if choosing his words carefully, 'missed your presence. and our discussions afterwards.' you let his words register into your senses. it's quiet as the sun settles, the blue hue of the sky meddling into a beautiful orange.

'there are other people who come to the church, mr. lupin.' he takes a deep breathe. it's serene, the way his name spills off your tongue.

'yes, but it gets quite boring with the same old people and the same old interpretations. you're intelligent...you're curious. i enjoy your fresh air of understanding.'

'you don't mean that.' you laugh. he sighs, letting his tongue dart over his teeth.

'oh no, i mean that,' he twiddles with his thumb, running his fingers through his locks with his other hand. he rubs his neck, drawing your attention to a small patch of ink on his neck.

'may i ask you the reason of your absence? it's none of my business of course,' his stale amber eyes pierce into you, as if trying to scan for answers.

'i got a few days off work. so i wanted to go on a little vacation.' you say.

'oh, i see, i'm glad you're out there having some fun. i'd do the same in your position. especially with the weather we've been having recently,' he emphasizes. his eyes wander about, as if searching for words, looking for phrases to let the conversation continue. 'i understand your need for freedom.'

you let the words hang in the air, tasting the freshness of the newly spoken sentences. you watch his nicely polished shoes, before you bite your tongue, meeting his eyes, allowing yourself to drown in the burnt amber color of them.

'do you mind it? the freedom? the fun?' he stands silent, as if speechless. it was extremely difficult to keep a man like remus lupin dumbfoundedly silent.

'no,' he says, 'i don't particularly mind it. i've...dedicated my life to this... this is my calling.' he laughs a little, a bark like laughter echoing through the walls. 'besides, i live my life through hearing your escapades.'

'i think you should live life a little. i'm saying this because i consider you my friend.'

'you do?' he says, softly biting his beautiful pink lips. 'well i consider you a friend too.' you nod.

'not many, erm, consider me other than someone who's a priest or think of any... friendly interactions, so... i appreciate that very much.'

you twiddle with your thumb, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. your mind floods with screams as you think of the next question you want to ask him. your heart thumps loudly in your chest, the heat of the blood curving through every inch of your body.

'can i ask you a question?'

'of course, you can ask me anything.'

'have you kissed anyone before?' it's vague, short yet straight forward. a slight pink tint overcomes his pale skin, his tongue tying up in knots before he processes his answer.

'oh, i- yes. i have kissed people before.' he licks his lips. 'though, in secret. we're not...uh meant to have relationships but... everybody needs company...sometimes.' you hum softly at his answer, minutely surprised at the lack of a reaction. then, you frame your next question, almost like a child so free of sin. you are, if partly so.

'do you consider it a bad thing mr. lupin?'

'no,' he laughs. 'i don't consider it a bad thing. i enjoy your curiosity.' he moves forward, a few painful inches away from you. it's as if he can feel the heat from your body. he enjoys it. 'and, neither do i think you're going to tell on me or anything, but yes, i have had companies of a different nature, too.'

the gasp ends in your throat. it's as if he reads your mind.

'i'm not such an extremist that i condemn that kind of thing. carnal desires are...human. the lord created us with them. so why should we deny ourselves?'

'isn't it wrong? a sin? perhaps you... don't mean it.' you say.

'no, i do mean it. to want intimacy is such an intricately human thing it isn't...wrong to want it or engage in it.'

'i've wanted intimacy, desired for it. for so long, mr. lupin, but i find myself stranded. because nobody expresses it back. perhaps you can tell me how it feels, with your experience of the humane carnal desire for intimacy,'

'oh.. well we've established that we're friends but... is that really something you should be asking a priest? you're a curious little thing aren't you?' you smile paired with a little nod of your head. you truly are curious.

'well,' he pauses, looking into your eyes, trying to search for something. 'if you must know, i haven't had any complaints. i've been told i give a rather...satisfactory performance.' he laughs. 'but, it has been quite some time.'

'oh. how long?'

'almost eight months so uh..nearly about a year, roughly,' he whispers, as you move closer. you're close enough for his warm breath fan over you, letting goosebumps kiss your skin.

'i think... i'll also be a satisfactory performer in bed,' you say. he laughs his eyebrow tilting.

'oh you think you are? your confidence is very cute.' he says, moving closer. you watch his pupils dilate, as the distance decreases between your bodies. something takes over him, as his breathing turns erratic, his heart palpitating. 'although,' he continues, 'the matter of one's performance in bed is highly subjective.'

'i can show you, the performance. i want to feel the intimacy, how it feels to be wanted, mr. lupin.' you say, almost begging. his hands twitch and your body aches for the touch of someone you've never felt before.

'i guess i'm sure you would like to find out, but...we shouldn't... we really shouldn't,' he feels his nerves turning shoddy as tries to not drown into the depth of your eyes. he says it, trying to convince himself more than you. but how can he when you look so pretty, like dew strewn across fresh grass. you jut out your lower lip.

'don't you find me pretty mr. lupin?' his eyes widen, his palm cradling your cheek. his thumb runs over your cheek and he enjoys the warm flush of your skin upon his touch, the goosebumps on your kissing every inch of your body.

'no, you are very beautiful. i mean it. apart from your intelligence, your beautiful mind is what...drew me to you.' he watches you melt into his touch and words and knits his eyebrows. 'but, we can't, we really can't, someone could just walk in.'

perhaps that's what excites you. the idea of someone walking in, the idea of somebody catching you. perhaps it's the sin that excites you.

'please,' you beg, your eyes glossy with an unsatiated lust, the carnal desire for intimacy, for his touch. 'please, remus, i need to know.' he takes a deep breathe, as the warm blood rushes between his legs.

he grabs your face, touching his temple with yours. 'fuck it,' he whispers, capturing his lips with yours. he's the priest, he needs to enlighten you with the knowledge you beg for, the experience you beg for.

perhaps it's sinful, but when his tongue meets yours, swallowing the sounds from your mouth, there's no sweeter innocence than his gentle sin. he'll be a poison ivy just for you, just to worship you at the shrine of his sins.

#harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #marauders #the marauders #marauders era #remus lupin #remus lupin x you #remus lupin smut #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x reader #kinkotober #remus lupin fanart #werewolf

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haowrld · 3 months ago

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THE SHADES OF LOVE (THE MASTERLIST)

WELCOME to the masterlist of SVT AS COLORS ! each story is going to be different as the members are representing colors that i have picked for them.

stories will come in pretty slow as i’m not gonna write this in chronological order, hope you guys enjoy 🩵

NOTES : seventeen x gn!reader, fluff, angst, first loves, confessions (more tba)

WARNINGS : warnings will be added in each story!

CHECK OUT THE MAIN MASTERLIST

SOME PINK FOR THE SOUL — LEE CHAN

COLOR : BABY PINK

SYNOPSIS : it’s hard not to notice the bubbly lee chan ; always bothering you with random questions and sitting next to you even when you try to ignore him (it’s quite difficult…). it makes you wonder, what’s his deal?

NOTES : lee chan x gn!reader

WORD COUNT : TBA

WARNINGS : TBA

—

WITH LOVE, VERN :) — CHWE HANSOL

COLOR : BEIGE WHITE

SYNOPSIS : a beige sticky note was found on your locker, asking you to find treasure for him. (tba)

NOTES : chwe hansol x gn!reader

WORD COUNT : TBA

WARNINGS : TBA

SOUR HOURS — BOO SEUNGKWAN

COLOR : SUNSET ORANGE

SYNOPSIS : TBA

NOTES : boo seungkwan x gn!reader

WORD COUNT : TBA

WARNINGS : TBA

—

BENEATH YOUR GAZE — XU MINGHAO

COLOR : METALLIC GRAY

SYNOPSIS : TBA

NOTES : xu minghao x gn!reader

WORD COUNT : TBA

WARNINGS : TBA

—

MODELS AND ROSES — KIM MINGYU

COLOR : ROSE RED

SYNOPSIS : as a photographer, you don’t find yourself getting close with your clients. until your boss gives you a new client to work with. kim mingyu, your highschool sweetheart.

NOTES : kim mingyu x gn!reader

WORD COUNT : TBA

WARNINGS : TBA

—

SOMEONE NAMED ‘YOU’ — LEE SEOKMIN

COLOR : AMBER GOLD

SYNOPSIS : TBA

NOTES : lee seokmin x gn!reader

WORD COUNT : TBA

WARNINGS : TBA

—

DREAMING_LONGING.MP3 — LEE JIHOON

COLOR : HEATHER INDIGO

SYNOPSIS : TBA

NOTES : lee jihoon x gn!reader

WORD COUNT : TBA

WARNINGS : TBA

—

EYES LIKE TWILIGHT — JEON WONWOO

COLOR : MAUVE PURPLE

SYNOPSIS : TBA

NOTES : jeon wonwoo x gn!reader

WORD COUNT : TBA

WARNINGS : TBA

—

FLORIST BOY — KWON SOONYOUNG

COLOR : SUNSHINE YELLOW

SYNOPSIS : TBA

NOTES : kwon soonyoung x gn!reader

WORD COUNT : TBA

WARNINGS : TBA

—

LOVE IS REAL FAKE SOMETHING— WEN JUNHUI

COLOR : MOCHA BROWN

SYNOPSIS : TBA

NOTES : wen junhui x gn!reader

WORD COUNT : TBA

WARNINGS : TBA

—

IN THE MIDST OF A RAINFALL — JOSHUA HONG

COLOR : SKY BLUE

SYNOPSIS : TBA

NOTES : joshua hong x gn!reader

WORD COUNT : TBA

WARNINGS : TBA

—

FOREVER IS YOURS — YOON JEONGHAN

COLOR : FERN GREEN

SYNOPSIS : TBA

NOTES : yoon jeonghan x gn!reader

WORD COUNT : TBA

WARNINGS : TBA

—

TO THE ONE I CHERISHED — CHOI SEUNGCHEOL

COLOR : CHARCOAL BLACK

SYNOPSIS : TBA

NOTES : choi seungcheol x gn!reader

WORD COUNT : TBA

WARNINGS : TBA

taglist (open) send an ask or fill out the form to be part of the taglist!

©️HAOWRLD

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idyllic-ghost · 1 year ago

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title: A Whisper from the Forest pairing: lumberjack!Jihoon x dryad(tree nymph)!reader genre: fantasy/magical realism, romance/fluff, smut, angst warnings: slight angst, smut, penetration, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, body worship synopsis: When two lonely hearts meet, even under the strangest of circumstances, they bond with each other in a unique way. And as the weather grows cold, and as we seek warmth in the form of another’s embrace, we tend to seek those bonds out with more desperation. So when Jihoon - a solitary lumberjack living on the outskirts of a small town - finds himself enthralled with a fairytale creature of the forest, he doesn’t hesitate to let himself be held and loved. And who are you to deny him that love when it is all you want as well? wordcount: 11k tagging: @gyuwoncheol, @enhacolor, @shuabby1994, @junhui-recs, @dkakapizzaboy, @just-here-to-read-01, @loviehan, @userjunhuii, @novalpha, @bubblymoon, @aaniag

a/n: this is a collab with @svthub ! see the Fall-ing For You Collab here!! this will also be the last thing i post before i go on my indefinite hiatus!

join my taglist

MDNI

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Take a moment. Breathe in the cold air, smell the trees and the wet moss. Put your hand in the icy water of the river, and feel it thread through your fingers - trying to pull you with the stream. Take a moment, and clear your head. Whisper out a silent prayer for good luck for the rest of the day. Jihoon always takes everything day by day. Each morning is the same, but he would never think to do it differently. He stands up from where he was crouching by the river, looking up to the tops of the pine trees surrounding him. They seem to reach an abnormal length from where he was standing, but he knows better than to not let his mind be tricked by a single perspective. The sky was still tinted pink and orange from the sunrise. Waking up in the early hours of the morning was worth it for these small moments.

The barking coming from his family’s old cabin signals that Duke is ready for breakfast. An involuntary smile spread across his lips as he trudged towards the house. Without having to look down, Jihoon knew where to step and where to avoid putting his feet. After all these years he knew where the trees spread their roots and where the ground tended to turn softer after rainfall. The barking continued, sometimes followed by a howl, and Jihoon’s steps quickened. Making his way up the stone steps, which he put down himself, he could hear the pitter-patter of eager paws walking on the wooden patio. Duke had managed to open the door by himself again and was now running down the stairs to meet his owner. The brown labrador had his mouth wide open, in what almost looked like a smile, and his ears flopping back on his head due to the speed he had managed to pick up. When they collided, Jihoon let out a loud groan. Not even this was unusual to his daily routine, and he managed to stay stable despite the sixty-pound canine throwing himself at him.

“Are you hungry, bud?” Jihoon scratched the dog behind his ear, which satisfied him enough to stand still for a while. “Let’s make some breakfast, alright?”

Most of the trees outside of Jihoon’s, now fogged-up, windows were pine. There were a few leafy trees here and there, sticking out like a sore thumb due to their red and orange color, but his main source of wood was pine. Which is why his fireplace always had the faint smell of it. The steam coming from his pan was making the entire kitchen stuffy, and he was reminded once again that he had to fix his hood fan. And while the issue could be temporarily fixed by opening a window, it wasn’t ideal as the season grew colder.

Duke was eating his kibble but was temporarily interrupted by Jihoon putting a slice of bacon in his bowl as well. He didn’t seem to mind the interruption and happily continued while Jihoon went to sit down at the table. It was a small mahogany table, perfect for one. The carvings on the legs were uneven, a show of his craftsmanship. On the table laid the morning newspaper, which he had picked up before getting to making breakfast. It wasn’t incredibly interesting, but it was nice to keep up with the things that happened in the town. Jihoon lived right on the outskirts, like a hermit of sorts, and only drove his truck into town when he had to make a delivery or get something for himself. He had a small garden behind the cabin and if it was necessary he could go out into the forest and hunt, although he would rather not, so he didn’t visit many times. Maybe once a month for deliveries and to stock up on food. Most of the time he was alone right by the mountainside, in the middle of the woods. He didn’t mind being alone, and seeing as he had Duke he wasn’t necessarily lonely. Being in the town made him feel more lonely than ever. He could see his old classmates with new friends, random strangers going on dates, or families gathering together in mom-and-pop restaurants. Avoiding the town made him feel less lonely. Sometimes he’d think about what life would have looked like if he had followed his parents’ advice, to not take over the family business and try to get out in the world instead. For his own sake. But he felt a certain pride for the cabin, and the woods surrounding it.

The feeling of Duke licking his leg brought him out of his thoughts. Jihoon bent down and petted his dog’s head.

“At least I have you.” Jihoon sighed.

Duke gave him a look that seemed sympathetic, and although he knew that the dog couldn’t understand him it still gave Jihoon an ounce of comfort. He looked out of the window again. The sun had started rising above the trees now. It was time to start work.

Just as every other day, he went out into the woods with Duke and marked trees that needed to be cut down. These trees were on their way to wither away, or it was the town that had asked him to cut them down to create an easy access path. Jihoon didn’t like to cut down young trees, or trees that had no reason to be cut down. It felt like he was stealing from the forest and the wildlife. Maybe he wasn’t entirely cut out for this line of work. He usually disregarded those thoughts and kept doing it his way. Jihoon would also frequently plant new trees. As soon as the ground had thawed and turned soft after winter, he would buy new saplings to plant. That’s why you could see a lot of different trees in this forest, which otherwise was only pine. He, and the people before him, had planted them there.

After marking the trees with orange paint, he would go back to the cabin and cut up trees that he had already collected. A pile of empty tree trunks lay beside the cabin. Jihoon always cut off the twigs and branches and gathered them in bundles to use as firewood. This was the thing he made the most sales on. The bundles of twigs and branches were cheaper than the full logs. Even though the logs lasted longer in the fireplace, people would rather buy more of something cheap than invest in the logs. Jihoon didn’t mind - the money he got from those twigs put food on his table. But it was irritating at times when people refused to see that they could be much better off. Then again, maybe it was just irritating that no one asked for his opinion on the one thing that he knew anything about.

Towards the end of the afternoon, Duke was aching to go out on another walk. And as they always did, they picked a random direction to walk in and started their exploring. The forest was mapped out, of course, but it was a lot different to explore it with your own two feet - and Jihoon was sure that he still hadn’t walked in every place of the forest, even though he grew up in it. South of the cabin laid a small river, which he knew very well but hadn’t spent much time walking with. He had crossed the river and explored the edge of the mountain on the other side, but he hadn’t walked upstream. Duke seemed happy enough about the choice, wagging his tail and frolicking across the rocks and fallen trees.

The river wasn’t frozen, but it certainly felt like it when Jihoon put his hand in the water, and pulled it out quickly. He pulled his jacket tighter around him and tried to hide his hands in his sleeves. He should have brought gloves, it always came as an afterthought at this time of year - no matter how many times he had experienced it. The tip of his nose was numb, but his feet were sweating in the thick pair of socks he was wearing. It didn’t help that he had brought out his winter boots. Jihoon wondered how it could be that Duke didn’t seem cold at all. His fur wasn’t very thick, yet he didn’t have a problem with dipping his paw in the freezing river and walking on. Of course, he knew better than to jump in, which he didn’t do as a puppy. But over the years, Duke came to understand that if he jumped in the water when it was cold outside it meant that playtime was over. He had yet to learn about running off whenever he saw something interesting.

Jihoon knows that he should keep his dog on a leash when exploring new areas. Duke was well-behaved when he was in a familiar climate, but he always got too excited when seeing something new. So when he ran away from the river, in a random direction, it shouldn’t have surprised Jihoon as much as it did. The owner followed his happy dog to a glade that he had yet to see. The glade was of monumental size, and it bewildered Jihoon that he hadn’t found this yet. In the middle of this open space, stood an old apple tree. He wasn’t knowledgeable about different kinds of apple trees, but Jihoon did know that a few kinds of apples didn’t ripen until late autumn. Duke hurried to the tree, and Jihoon followed with long strides.

“Stop!” he shouted out in vain.

There was something about the tree that had Duke transfixed. Jihoon couldn’t blame him, even though he was mesmerized by the tree. He hadn’t seen any fruit trees in the forest before. Although he had planned on planting some outside his house, he had never gotten around to it. The grand space surrounding the apple tree was strange as well. You would think that this space would be filled with tree saplings by now. Even more strange, Jihoon couldn’t remember a large glade such as this one on any map he had ever studied of the forest.

Duke was running around the tree trunk and rolling around on the flourishing grass. Jihoon closed in on the tree with weary steps. The tree wasn’t long, but it was thick and its branches spread out wide. It was the kind of tree that every child would want to climb on, so despite its old age, it felt youthful. The bark mirrored the river in its flowing motions. He had the urge to reach out his hand and trace the ridges but held himself back. The leaves were bright and green, and the fruit sat in clumps on the branches - weighing them down to hang lower than they otherwise would. Jihoon could reach out and grab a shiny red apple if he so pleased, but he decided not to. They looked delicious, mostly red with a few green splotches, and although he didn’t have much knowledge about apples, Jihoon knew that they were ripe for harvesting.

It was hard to leave the glade, something pulled Jihoon back into its warm embrace. But he knew that he had to get home and feed Duke - let alone himself. Duke had problems leaving too, but his stomach also seemed to push him over the edge eventually. When Jihoon looked back at the tree, it almost looked like it had turned and reached out for him. But he knew that that would be impossible.

That night Jihoon dreamt of the glade. The forest around him was a blur, and all he could see was the apple tree. It beckoned him in a swaying motion, calling his name. He walked slowly to the tree, but despite his leisurely steps he still ended up by the tree within seconds. The wind was calm, barely there even - he couldn’t quite tell where his skin ended and the air began. He reached out and touched the bark. The rough-looking bark felt smooth under his calloused palms. It was damp as if it had just been raining, but not in the way that water could make wood feel almost slimy. It just felt fresh. Jihoon closed the distance between himself and the tree, putting his cheek against the bark. With his ear against the tree, he could hear a faint heartbeat. He took a shaky breath and looked up at the crown of the tree. Right above him hung a red apple - he had never seen an apple so ruby red, so perfectly shaped and colored. On instinct, he reached for it, plucked it, and brought it to his lips without hesitation. His hot breath fogged up the shiny apple. Was he allowed to take a bite? Jihoon could hear the heartbeat from the tree without even leaning against it. It was beating faster. His lips parted slowly, and his teeth dug into the skin of the fruit. Juices flooded his mouth, sweet and heavenly, and dripped down his chin. The juice from the apple dribbled down his jaw, down his torso - it felt like a finger tracing his skin, and it left a trail of goosebumps down his body. The flesh of the fruit tasted like honey, and when he had taken one bite he couldn’t stop himself from taking another. His teeth dug into the apple like a hungry animal that had finally caught its prey. Suddenly, Jihoon could feel a pair of hands rubbing his back. The person’s breath fanned against his neck.

“Come back to me.” It was a woman’s voice, as sweet as the apple Jihoon just ate.

In mere seconds, everything was taken away from him. The taste of the apple, the feeling of the tree, the woman’s voice - they, and even the memory of them, were all gone when Jihoon woke up. All that was left from the dream was an innate longing to go back to the glade. He thought about it all day. His body went on auto-pilot to commit to all of his chores, but his mind was in the glade. There was something special about the place, it felt like it had taken a part of him and kept it as hostage. So when the time came for Duke’s afternoon walk, Jihoon took the lead and walked the same path they had the day before. And much like the day before, his dog ran off at a random point during the walk. However, today it seemed to be in a different area altogether and yet Jihoon ended up in that same glade.

The apple tree stood tall, its apples almost golden in the light of the sun. Jihoon hurried over, tripping over roots and other such things on the way. It didn’t matter if he fell, there was something about the tree that made dirtying his clothes and scraping his knees worth it. As he approached the tree, it welcomed him. It looked like it took a sigh of relief when it could feel his presence again. In bits and pieces, the dream came back to him. Jihoon pressed his ear to the tree, but he couldn’t hear a heartbeat. He felt a little foolish and backed away from the tree. Duke had laid down beside it, putting his head on one of its large roots, and looked at Jihoon judgingly.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Jihoon huffed and turned back to the tree. “Dreams make people do weird things sometimes.”

As Jihoon looked a little closer at the tree, it started changing. Twisting and turning its body, as if it was stretching after sitting down for long, and moving its branches, like someone moving their joints. The leaves rustled and a few apples fell. Right in front of his eyes, the tree was turning into a woman. As the tree kept turning and bending in all kinds of ways, it was also changing its very form. The body was shaped with curves and edges, the leaves turned into hair, and the bark turned into skin. The woman groaned as her transformation was complete - taking a single step before falling to the ground. Jihoon hurried to her side, kneeling to see that she was alright. She wasn’t all human, her body still looked like it was made of bark and leaves in most places of her body, but she definitely wasn’t just a tree anymore. Without so much as an explanation as to what she was, the tree-woman sat up and wiggled around her limbs - like someone trying to get life back in their foot after it had fallen asleep.

“Are you alright?” Jihoon stuttered out.

“I think so.” The tree-woman looked up at him with a smile. “I’m glad you came back.”

She stood up and walked over to Duke, who usually growled at strangers but was now as happy as ever. Jihoon watched her interact with his dog, petting him and talking to him - not in a baby voice like most people do with dogs, but in a tone that indicated that Duke was talking back.

“I’ll tell him.” She nodded, stood up from where she was crouching, and turned to Jihoon. “He says it’s time to go home, he’s hungry.”

“Uhm…” Jihoon looked between the tree-woman and his dog. “Okay.”

Duke ran up to his side happily, and the tree-woman looked content. She walked over to where her tree once stood and picked up one of the apples that had fallen to the ground. When she handed it to him, Jihoon took the apple with little to no hesitation.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“I’ve been called a lot of things…” She pondered for some time before adding. “You can call me Y/N.”

Jihoon nodded. He didn’t feel like he needed to tell her his name, something told him that she already knew. Without another word, she wandered off in a random direction. Despite seemingly choosing at random, she also looked like she knew exactly where she was going. Jihoon headed in the opposite direction, back home.

The journey back home was faster than yesterday, and yet when he arrived he saw the tree-woman standing beside his house. She was looking at the piles of lumber in Jihoon’s backyard. When she saw that he had arrived, he expected her to look angry. However, his assumptions were incorrect, as she smiled instead.

“How did you…”

“Welcome home,” she said.

“Thank you?” Jihoon looked around himself, trying to find a way that this woman could get to his house before him. “How did you get here so fast?”

She ignored his question and began walking up the stairs, looking down at him expectantly with every other step. Duke didn’t hesitate to follow her to the front door of the house. Jihoon eventually followed and, even though it went against all of his instincts, let the woman inside his house. A trail of leaves and small pieces of bark trailed behind her as she walked toward the couch. She laid down and closed her eyes, not uttering a single excuse as to what she was doing there. Jihoon draped a blanket around her. The apple she had given him was placed on the kitchen counter, going untouched for the rest of the day.

Jihoon couldn’t fall asleep that night. Partially because there was a stranger in his house, which he couldn’t bring himself to kick out, but also because of an excitement that was growing in his chest - a feeling that not even the most skilled of stoics could deny. There was something about this woman, about Y/N, that had his body completely tensed up and intoxicated. Like a kid before Christmas morning, Jihoon couldn’t, no matter how hard he tried, go to sleep. He laid in bed, tossing and turning, trying to drown out his own thoughts by forcing himself to think about other things. These feelings were entirely too embarrassing for him to feel, was what Jihoon had convinced himself had to be the truth.

That morning, when Jihoon walked into his kitchen, he caught a glimpse of the tree-woman’s naked figure - barely draped in the blanket that Jihoon had given her last night. There were no signs of her being a tree anymore. Her skin was cleared from patches of bark, and her hair didn’t have leaves stuck in it. The only reason Jihoon knew that he hadn’t dreamt the entire thing, was the piles of leaves and tree remains on his carpet. It reminded him of when Duke started shedding more than usual, the way it seemed to stick to every surface of the room. Y/N noticed him and turned her body towards him, not caring that the blanket covered absolutely nothing. Jihoon quickly turned around in a flustered frenzy.

“Sorry-” He coughed to try to cover the crack in his voice.

“It’s okay,” she hummed. “I don’t mind.”

She sounded almost surprised at his reaction, as if it was normal of her to walk around naked and for others to see her like that. Jihoon heard shuffling behind him, slow and careful movements.

“I’ll cover up if it makes you uncomfortable,” she said.

Jihoon turned slowly to look at her again. The blanket was wrapped over her head and tightly around her frame, hiding every inch of her skin except her face. She looked at him expectantly, but he wasn’t sure what she was expecting. Maybe a thank you or for him to assure her that it was alright. But no words left Jihoon’s lips, he just stared into her eyes. He had to force himself to look away.

“I should get you clothes…” He walked back towards his bedroom. “Wait here.”

The two of them ate breakfast together - Jihoon ate a non-meat breakfast for the first time since he could remember, just in case it would somehow offend her if he didn’t. Y/N kept her eyes on the window, watching the rain fall heavily on the mossy ground, but Jihoon couldn’t get his eyes off of her. It was scary how normal she looked, when she had just barely twelve hours ago looked like an actual tree. It was like something out of the fantasy books he used to read when he was young. Just twelve hours ago she was covered in colorful leaves and bumpy bark, and now she looked like any other woman - wearing one of his flannel shirts. The only reason he knew that he hadn’t been dreaming was the trail of her old self covering all of the living room. Instead of dwelling too much on it, Jihoon simply welcomed her company - despite the rational part of his brain screaming at him that this was not normal.

It seemed like it was never going to stop raining. Although rain had never stopped Jihoon before, he decided that it meant that he had to stay home with Y/N. After breakfast, she sat down on the living room floor and played with Duke. She had a strange instant connection with him, which Jihoon had never seen Duke have with anyone else. While the two of them played, Jihoon did the dishes - occasionally stopping to look back at the adorable scene playing out just as he had imagined before. He hadn’t imagined it with Y/N, of course, but just with someone. He had dreamed of bringing someone home and living a domestic life with them in this cabin. As mundane as it sounded, Jihoon longed to get to make breakfast for someone and wash their dishes - he wanted to hand them a cup of coffee in the morning, just as they got out of bed, and kiss their cheek as a silent way to say “good morning”. Jihoon smiled to himself as he pictured it in front of him, now with you as that someone. The thoughts quickly disappeared as he felt a tapping on his shoulder. Y/N and Duke were standing right behind him, both of them looking at him expectantly. It reminded him of how Duke would sit quietly beside him as soon as he started rustling with plastic.

“Duke says that he wants to play outside,” she said.

“What?”

“Can we?” she asks as if she needed his permission to do so. “I won’t take him out too far- and we’ll be back soon.”

Jihoon looked at her, and then out the window. It was still raining. When he looked down at Duke, he was still sitting perfectly still with a pleading look in his eye. He looked back at Y/N, who had the same look in her eyes.

“But it’s raining.” Jihoon pointed at the window.

“Rain is not a bad thing,” she said, “And definitely not a reason to stay inside.”

Duke barked, gaining Jihoon’s attention again. They both looked set in their decision. How could Jihoon say no to that?

“I mean, sure.” Jihoon looked between the two of them. “I’ll finish the dishes.”

Jihoon watched them run around like fools from his window. She was building up piles of leaves for Duke to jump in, and throwing sticks for him to fetch. Duke was normally a reserved dog around strangers, but she seemed to have him wrapped around her little finger. Where she ran, he followed. They were both soaked when they came back inside - but Y/N was still smiling and Duke’s tail was still wagging back and forth. Jihoon handed Y/N a towel, before helping Duke dry off.

“I’m freezing…” Y/N giggled through chattering teeth.

“I could make a fire,” Jihoon suggested cautiously. “If that’s… okay?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Because…” Jihoon had no idea how to phrase it. “The wood?”

“I have no connection to trees that have died, if that’s what you’re asking.” She shrugged off the, now wet, flannel shirt, making Jihoon look away from her quickly. “I know that you only take the trees that have already died, you know? You don’t have to be nervous… Do you have another one of these that I can wear?”

“... closet,” Jihoon mumbled, his ears glowing red.

She thanked him before leaving. Jihoon felt like a teenager again. He shouldn’t get this flustered by the silhouette of a naked woman in the corner of his eyes. Duke whined, and Jihoon realized that he had stopped drying him off. He muttered an apology to the dog, and continued drying him off.

Y/N came back out of his room just a few minutes later with new clothes on - an old sweatshirt and a pair of pajama pants - and holding a book in her hands. It was dusty from sitting on his bookshelf for ages. She showed him the cover, it was a book about forest creatures.

“What’s this?”

“A book from my childhood,” he hummed and took the book from her hands. “I forgot that I still had this.”

She sat down on the couch and patted on the place beside her. The fire was already burning in the fireplace, so Jihoon did as she wanted and sat down. Although Duke wasn’t normally allowed on the couch, he jumped up and laid his head in Y/N’s lap.

“Read to me,” she said.

Jihoon opened the book. The text was big, and there were lots of pictures, so it wasn’t a long read. And yet, they sat there for hours. Y/N was pointing at things, either laughing or explaining what the creatures really looked like. It surprised Jihoon that all of his childhood fantasies were true. The amount of times he had gone into the woods looking for these creatures, and they might have actually been there right under his nose. Not all of it was real, but the fact that any of it, even such a small portion, was real was enough for him. When they got to the page about dryads, tree nymphes, she went quiet. Jihoon cleared his throat and kept reading.

“Dryad…” He paused before reading the next sentence. “A nymph or nature spirit who lives in trees and takes the form of a beautiful young woman.”

Y/N looked at the picture, tracing the drawing’s figure with her fingers. Jihoon studied her expression, trying to find even the smallest inkling to what she was thinking. Her face was a blank canvas.

“Do you think I look like that?” she asked.

“Not really… they’ve got a few things right, I suppose.” He looked closer at the picture.

“... am I beautiful?”

Her words took the air out of his lungs. How was he supposed to answer that? He immediately started overthinking, and having her stare at his flustered face didn’t help. When he faced her, his mouth dried out. She was looking at him with big glittering eyes, her eyebrows slightly furrowed.

“I think you’re beautiful,” he said.

She smiled, pleased with his answer, and turned to focus on the book again. Jihoon kept his eyes on her as she flipped the page, laughing at the next picture as soon as she laid eyes on it. His heart flipped in his ribcage, and he began nervously fidgeting with the corner of the book.

“Read this one!”

The next morning, the rain had stopped. There was a slight chill in the air, but not enough to create frost and not enough to keep Jihoon inside yet another day. He took Duke out for his walk, and Y/N followed. She was wrapped up in Jihoon’s winter coat, as he had insisted. Duke was running ahead of them, even though he had seen this part of the forest at least a hundred times already, and Jihoon and Y/N took their time strolling down the path. Questions were itching in the back of Jihoon’s mind, and walking in silence didn’t help. So, even though he knew that he maybe shouldn’t, he asked.

“Could I ask a few questions?” he asked, and quickly added, “About you?”

“Go ahead.”

She didn’t look at him, but she was smiling. It was as if she had expected it to happen at this particular moment.

“How…” Jihoon had a million questions running through his mind all at once, and just had to settle on one. “How do you know me?”

“You work in the forest,” she said. “So do I.”

“... and what is it that you do?”

“I keep it alive.” She finally turned to him. “I keep it in harmony. This forest is me, just as much as I am it. I have to protect it.”

“From people like me?”

“Not exactly…” She sighed and turned away from him again, slowing down her steps. “Humans are also a part of the forest, if we take people like you out of it then we can’t have harmony. It is the people who go out of their way to disrespect my home that I have to be cautious of.”

Jihoon nodded. He understood, he had seen the trash laying in bushes and the people who try to hunt even when it’s not the season. A feeling of relief washed over him when he understood that she wasn’t there to haunt him in some way.

“I thought that you’d remember me,” she murmured.

“Remember you?”

“I met you many years ago. You were… tiny.” Her eyebrows were furrowed in confusion. “I had only just taken over the forest, and I found you crying. You were lost, so I helped you back.”

Jihoon had a faint memory of getting lost for the first time. Despite his parents having told him to stay still and hug a tree, he couldn’t help but follow the tiny whirlwind of leaves that eventually led him out of the forest. He didn’t mention this to Y/N, he wasn’t sure how to.

“You’re bigger now,” she commented. “It feels a bit strange to see.”

“What? That I’ve grown up?”

“Yeah… to be fair, I wasn’t very big then either but…” She narrowed her eyes at him. “I thought you’d stay tiny.”

Jihoon let out a choked laugh, which made her smile. He loved to make her smile, it felt like seeing the sun peak out of the clouds after a heavy storm.

Jihoon started spending more and more time with Y/N. The only time he wasn’t with her was when he was making deliveries, or out getting food. Being isolated for so long made even the strangest companions welcome. He had made a temporary home for her in his room, opting to sleep on a spare bed that he used to give to guests. It was creaky and uncomfortable, so it was out of the question for him to give it to her. She was practically a goddess, he couldn’t give her an old guest bed. Every day was filled with laughter, something that Jihoon hadn’t experienced in a while. His face would light up every time she walked into his line of vision, and he was sure she noticed.

One day, during their afternoon walk, Jihoon found himself walking the same path that he had about a week ago - when he first saw the glade. He didn’t think much of it, he was just following Duke. But even when his dog wanted to go in a different direction, his legs insisted on following the familiar route. Y/N didn’t say anything. Her arm was wrapped around his, looking at the ground to make sure that she didn’t step on something. It was only when they had entered the glade that she acknowledged it.

“We’re back here?” She hummed in slight surprise.

The glade looked the same, except there was no apple tree anymore. In the place where she had stood was a spot where no grass would grow. You could say that the grass wouldn’t grow because it was nearing winter, but Jihoon knew that even if it was a warm summer day there wouldn’t grow any grass on that patch.

“I guess we are…” Jihoon looked around. “Do you want to leave?”

“No,” she said. “Let’s go sit down.”

They sat down on the grass, right in front of the bare patch. The ground was cold, and Jihoon wished that he had brought along a blanket to lay down under them. Y/N didn’t seem to mind.

“I’m glad that Duke helped you find this place,” she said, “Otherwise I don’t think I’d ever meet you.”

Jihoon looked over at Duke, who was running around the glade.

“He helped me here?”

“I called on him, yes.” She put her hand on his knee. “I wanted to see you.”

Jihoon thought about the dream, and if she could possibly have anything to do with it. He looked at her, watched her lean her head against his shoulder, and decided that he had to ask - he needed to know.

“I had a dream that night…” he started and turned his head away from her. “After I had been here the first time.”

“Hm?”

“I dreamt that I was in the glade, and I ate an apple.” Jihoon could feel her staring at him. “And I think you called out to me… to come back.”

“You ate the apple?” She said it in a tone that Jihoon couldn’t quite place, he didn’t know if she was sad, or angry, or just surprised.

“Yeah… was that bad?”

“No! No, not at all.” She laughed, Jihoon was yet again reminded of silverbells. “Before I became the protector of this forest, I lived with other dryads… they would always tell a story about fruit trees, that those who ate our fruit had promised themselves to us in some way… it’s a silly story, but to some it’s seen as a promise of devotion.”

“Devotion?”

“It’s stupid, isn’t it?” She turned to look at him with a smile, which faded when she saw his serious expression.

“No, I don’t think so.”

A million thoughts were racing through Jihoon’s head, but they all quieted down when Y/N moved closer to him. He could feel her breath against his lips. His eyes drifted down to her lips, his hand moved to cup her cheek. As he moved even closer her eyes fluttered shut. Their lips met; it was a short kiss. Her lips were soft, and the feeling of them lingered on Jihoon’s lips. In his stomach, butterflies started flying around. Her skin was so soft under his calloused palm. Her hands reached for the back of his head, and pulled him in for another kiss. Their lips locked, and Jihoon began feeling warm all over - forgetting about how he had just complained about the cold ground. Her fingers were in his hair, gently caressing his scalp. She tasted like honey, reminding him of how the apple in his dream had tasted. He grew greedy, trying to get closer to her. However, his attempt failed and they both fell to the ground - him on top of her.

“Shit, I’m sorry-”

She was laughing. His face turned red, before realizing that she wasn’t laughing at him. He let out a faint chuckle, which was followed by more laughter. Once he had gotten up, he helped her up as well - she was still giggling, but he had a feeling that it was more from excitement rather than the fact that they fell over.

“I’m sorry for laughing,” she said.

“You don’t have to apologize.” Jihoon took her hand, and she quickly intertwined her fingers with his.

“Are you ready to head home?”

That night, Y/N asked him if he would sleep in the bed with her. Her reasoning was that she knew the guest bed was uncomfortable, but Jihoon didn’t care about explanations or excuses. He welcomed spending a night holding her, even when his arm grew numb from being under her for so long. Nothing more than sleeping happened, but Jihoon still woke up with the feeling that he had crossed a line that he couldn’t go back from.

Y/N was still sleeping when Jihoon got out of bed. He went into the kitchen, prepared to make something for the both of them. The apple that she had given to him the first day she met was hiding behind his kettle. He must have forgotten that it was there. Despite it having gone a week since then, the apple looked the same. It hadn’t aged at all. Jihoon looked back at the closed door to the bedroom, and thought about what Y/N had said. Devotion. Jihoon brought his lips to the apple and took a bite. It was as sweet as he remembered.

Another couple days had passed since they kissed. Neither of them talked about it, or repeated the action, but the air around them had changed. Every accidental touch held much more weight than it used to. Everytime her fingers would brush over his, it would leave his hand with a burning sensation. Everytime he glanced at her lips, his ears would turn red. It was no secret that he had fallen in love with her, and not acknowledging it was making it worse.

It was getting dark outside, partly because of the sun going down but also because of the rainclouds that were coming their way. Duke had taken his place in Jihoon’s bedroom, refusing to come out of his fluffy dog bed. It was no surprise, since he had been running around in the cold all day. But with him absent, it made the air between Jihoon and Y/N even thicker. When it started raining, Jihoon was relieved to hear Y/N suggest that they go outside. Maybe a bit of cold rain was just what he needed. The two of them ran outside, not bothering with putting on coats or better clothes. Y/N ran around on the cold grass, but Jihoon looked up at the sky. He closed his eyes and let the rain just fall on him. He only looked around himself when he heard laughter - silver bells.

“What?” he asked.

“You always look so stoic.” She grinned. “You should have more fun, you know?”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

A wide grin appeared on Jihoon’s face, and he began chasing her. She ran as fast as she could on the slippery grass, letting out a shrill scream as he captured her. His strong arms wrapped around her waist and lifted her up.

“Is this what you mean by fun?” he huffed.

She only laughed in response, kicking to try to get him to put her down. When he did, they took a moment to breathe. They were both panting, completely soaked through from the rain, and couldn’t break eye contact with each other. As their laughter died down, Jihoon wrapped his arms around her again - now more gentle.

“You ate the apple.” She put her hands on his chest.

Jihoon went quiet, but nodded. He wouldn’t lie to her. She must have been the one that put it behind the kettle - maybe a way to see if he would take it.

“Why?” she asked.

“I don’t know…” He sighed. “I thought about what you said… about devotion.”

“And?”

“And I couldn’t stop thinking about how I would do anything for you.” Any rational thinking had escaped him, he needed to speak his mind. “I want to be… I am devoted to you. I haven’t felt this strongly about anything in years.”

Y/N’s hands creeped up his chest and her arms wrapped around his neck. She leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek… then to his other cheek. Her nose brushed his, waiting for him to take the final step to kiss her. He looked at her, studied the lustful look in her eyes, and brought his lips to his forehead. A soft peck.

“Will you have me?” he asked carefully.

“Yes,” she said, “I want you.”

“Good.” He pressed his lips to hers, just as quickly as he had kissed her forehead. “Let’s go back inside. I’ll make a fire.”

They got a change of clothes, and Jihoon prepared the fireplace. She didn’t seem too happy about leaving their moment so quickly, but Jihoon didn’t blame her - he wouldn’t be very happy about it either. He needed to be sure that it was what she wanted, then he would give her everything and more. Despite his attempts, Jihoon wasn’t the type to have a quick fling. He needed this to be special, not something he would regret, or wish that he had done differently. So he made up a fire, and put down blankets and pillows on the floor for the two of them to warm up. The fire lit up her face in the most celestial way. She was mesmerized by the flame, but he was devoted to only looking at her. When she gave him the honor of meeting his gaze, his heart skipped a beat. She reached for his hand, quietly picking it up to bring to her lips. They were soft against his rough skin. How she could touch him so delicately, he would never understand.

“Thank you,” she said, “For taking me in. It’s been so long since I've gotten to be with someone like this.”

Jihoon brought her hand to his chest, pushing her palm flat right on top of where his heart was rapidly beating. She smiled at him and moved closer. Her one hand stayed on his chest, while the other caressed the area where his neck met his shoulder. The sparkle in her eye when she felt his heartbeat quicken made him all the more eager to please her. She was the only thing that mattered right now, she was the only person in the world for him. Y/N toyed with the hair on the nape of his neck, then letting her hand slip down the back of his shirt - just slightly letting her fingertips grace the top of his broad back.

“I couldn’t bring myself to leave you,” he murmured, “Not for a second.”

Her smile widened. She was pleased. Jihoon let out a soft sigh as he stared at her lovingly. Y/N shuffled around to straddle his lap, pressing her core against his crotch. Slowly, she began rocking her hips back and forth. Jihoon, who had been aching for all this time, couldn’t help but moan at the slight movements.

“Do you want to please me?” she asked.

“More than anything,” Jihoon whined.

He put his head in the nape of her neck, breathing in her scent. Jihoon could get high on her scent, in a way that no other drug could ever possibly live up to. Y/N started grinding down harder on him, her hands wandering to gently pull on his hair. Jihoon didn’t know what to do with himself, the sensation was too overwhelming, and he could only think of wrapping his arms around her to pull her in closer. He began leaving open-mouthed kisses along her clavicle and up her neck, gracing his death against her skin ever so slightly. Even through his clothes, her movements felt divine - Jihoon could only imagine what it would feel like being inside her.

“Look at me.” She pulled on his hair to get him to stop sucking bruises on her neck. “Do you feel desperate, Jihoon?”

“Yes.”

“I can see that.” She grinned. “You’ll do anything for me, right?”

“Anything.”

“Take off your clothes and lay down.”

Y/N stood up from her place on his lap, and Jihoon hurried to rip off his clothes. Just as he had pulled off his shirt, and was about to take off his belt, she bent over to pull off her underwear. In the light of the fire, he could see her pussy glistening. With immense self-control, he pulled off his pants and laid down as she had told him - instead of licking up every drop that was running down her legs. Like a man starved waiting for his first meal in ages, Jihoon felt his mouth watering at the thought of having her - impatiently waiting for her to let him ravage her. His wishes were granted as she took her place on top of his face. Jihoon was almost too quick to grab her hips and pull her down to meet his mouth. His tongue laid flat against her pussy, drinking her up as if she was the fountain of youth. When she began grinding on his face, he knew he was a goner. There was a big mess all over his face at this point, probably on the floor as well, but he didn’t care. Jihoon moaned against her, trying to push her further down - not caring if he was suffocated in the process.

“Don’t stop- you’re going to make me cum,” she moaned, and it only egged him on further.

With the same pace and rigor, he devoured her whole. Wet, messy noises could be heard throughout the cabin, along with their combined moans and groans. Her cum was as sweet as nectar, and if she hadn’t pulled away he would’ve continued eating her out well past overstimulation. She was his drug. Jihoon leaned on his elbows and watched her ribcage rise and fall. Y/N was back on his lap again, dangerously close to his, painfully hard, cock.

“You’re such a good boy for me,” she breathed out. “Thank you.”

Her words whirred around in his head over and over again. He needed to please her, he needed to hear her say that again.

“More,” he rasped.

Before she could think to respond, Jihoon had pounced on her. Her body still limp from her orgasm, she laid beneath him spread out for him to enjoy. But Jihoon didn’t kiss her until she had given him a small nod. Teeth were clashing, the mess they had already made was being spread around, and clammy hands were gripping at whatever body parts were the closest. Jihoon kissed down her body, wanting to taste her again.

“You’re a goddess,” he murmured against her skin, “Let me worship you. Please.”

His face was in between her legs again, looking up at her with sparkling eyes. She put out her hand to gently caress his cheek, making him close his eyes and lean into her touch. Maybe he could ignore his own needs - as long as she would let him have her.

“You’ve proven yourself to me,” she whispered. “I want to repay you.”

She sat up and pushed him to lay down again. Now that they were in the same position as before, instead of approaching his face, she leaned down to press kisses on his abdomen. Slowly, her lips traveled south. Jihoon leaned on his elbows again, trying to take her all in despite the urge to shut his eyes tight in pure bliss. Her velvet tongue licked a stripe up his shaft before enclosing her lips around his cock. His mouth fell open and his eyes wandered to the back of his head as she took him deeper and deeper down her throat. She looked up at him, her eyes big and teary from gagging. Pulling herself up, her mouth let go of his head with a pop. Her hand wrapped around his aching cock and slowly stroked it.

“You’re heaven,” he moaned. “You’re-... you’re surreal…”

“I’m yours,” she corrected. “I’ll let you do with me as you please.”

With that said, she wrapped her lips around him again and began bobbing her head up and down. Jihoon’s hips stuttered up, which he quickly apologized for. But the moan that escaped her, and vibrated against him, made him take his apology back. He thought about what she had said, and laid down flat again so that he could intertwine his fingers in her hair. She hummed in approval, and Jihoon began guiding her movements. At first he was soft and gentle, but as he grew more impatient so did his movements.

“Fuck, your mouth feels so good around me,” he hissed.

As he fucked her throat, she became a gagging, moaning mess. Looking up at him with lustful eyes, she silently begged him to continue. Watching her fall apart like this - all because of him - made his eyes roll to the back of his head and, without thinking, he came down her throat. Jihoon watched her take it all and swallow once she had removed her mouth from him. She leaned over him and kissed him again, desperate to stay as close as possible.

“I’m burning for you,” she whined when she pulled away from his lips. “Please help me.”

Jihoon held her face in his palms, bringing her in for another kiss. His lips moved slowly against hers, as they changed positions yet again. Only when he was on top of her - her legs spread wide for him - did he break the kiss. His lips traveled down her jaw and neck, down to the valley of her breast. He watched her writhe beneath him as his hand massaged one of her breasts, letting his mouth wrap around the nipple of the other. Her eyes were shut and her mouth wide open, not hiding any noises she made. With his free hand, he began toying with her sensitive clit. Her eyes opened in shock, clearly not expecting this to be the direction for him to go in. But he knew that he’d have to prep her before he could be inside her. So, once his fingers were coated in her slick, he pushed two fingers inside her. With gentle movements, he curled his fingers with each pull. His thumb found her clit again - applying pressure to the bud made her clench around him. Her hands reached for his shoulders, digging her nails into his skin. At the pressure of her nails, Jihoon lifted his head from her body and shifted his attention to her face. Her face was scrunched up in pleasure, and her eyes opened only when Jihoon pulled out his fingers. She didn’t have time to protest before his slick fingers were in her mouth. Enclosing her lips around them, she let out a soft hum.

“Do you taste how sweet you are?” he murmured, and took out his fingers from her mouth.

Y/N lifted up her hands and cupped Jihoon’s face softly, guiding him to kiss her again. His eyes fluttered shut as he enjoyed the moment of peace amidst the impassioned energy surrounding them. At the sound of her laughter, like the sound of silver bells, he let them open again.

“You looked so blissful.” She brushed a few hairs out his face.

“I am blissful, darling.”

They let their eyes linger, looking deep into the windows of their souls. The once awkward and somewhat cold man was now bearing his heart for her, and she wanted to drink it all up. After pressing a kiss to his cheek, she gave him a nod - which he understood immediately. As much as he enjoyed the peace, he could not ignore the aching sensation in his lower abdomen any longer. He hadn’t longed for someone this much before. Lining up his cock with her entrance, he slowly pushed inside of her. A string of curses left his lips, he was still sensitive from his previous orgasm. Y/N hushed his words with another kiss until he had bottomed out inside her.

“You’re so good to me,” she whispered against his lips. “And so beautiful…”

Jihoon’s face turned red. She was studying his features, all while trying to fight back the urge to close her eyes in pleasure. Being watched wasn’t something that Jihoon was used to, no less admired. Instead of answering, he started moving - which forced her to finally shut her eyes. A guttural moan left her lips as he seemed to have found the spot inside her that could make her eyes roll into the back of her head. Her hands gripped his shoulders tightly, urging him silently to keep going. With the arm that wasn’t holding him up, Jihoon moved Y/N’s legs even further apart - gripping the flesh of her thighs. His head dipped down to her neck, placing soft kisses to her collar bone area.

“Mine,” he murmured against her skin.

Her hands moved to hold his back, letting her fingernails sink into his skin.

“All yours,” she whispered into his ear and let her nails drag down his back. “You're mine too, aren’t you?”

Jihoon groaned out a yes, his hips faltering as he lost his focus. Y/N leaned her head up, giving him more access to leave colorful marks on her neck. She locked her legs around his hips, enclosing him completely.

“Will you cum inside me, then?”

Jihoon’s movements stopped completely, unsure if he had heard her right. He moved to look at her, and he was met with a sweet smile - which definitely didn’t match what she had just asked of him. Her limbs wrapped around him tighter.

“Do you want that?” he asked.

“I want all of you,” she hummed, and leaned up to place a dulcet kiss on his lips. “Will you let me?”

“I’ll do anything for you,” he murmured and started moving again.

His forehead leaned against hers, trying to keep his eyes open to hold her gaze. Her eyes kept shifting to his lips, and fluttering close whenever he found her spot. Soft sighs and whimpers echoed through the room - along with choked moans and groans. Both tired, but neither wanted to stop. Their lips met in a clash, desperately needing to close the distance. As their bodies moved in unison, something was building up in them - yearning to break free.

“I’m close,” he murmured against her lips.

“Me too… just a little more, please, baby,” she whined.

Jihoon couldn’t deny her when she sounded like that. He couldn’t find it in himself to deny her anything at all. With sloppy movements, they continued until Jihoon felt like he was going to burst. A string of curse words escaped his lips.

“It’s okay, baby,” she moaned, “You can cum- cum inside me. Please, give it all to me.”

She kept urging him; telling him not to stop, that she was so close, and begging him to release himself inside her. He wouldn’t - couldn’t - deny her command. With a soft moan, he reached his orgasm. Despite the overstimulation, he kept moving until her hips were spasming. Both of them were heaving, unable to move. Jihoon stayed on top of her, his head having dipped into the crook of Y/N’s neck from his muscles exhaustion. He doesn’t put all of his weight on her, he wouldn’t dream of it. Her limbs are still wrapped around him, but just barely hanging there instead of gripping him tightly like she had before. After pressing a soft kiss to her neck, he mustered the strength to get up. He sat on his knees, watching her figure. Her eyes were still closed, her mouth slightly agape.

“Did you fall asleep?” he asked, mostly as a joke.

“No…” she mumbled in a way that made it seem like she’d fall asleep at any second.

“I’ll get something to clean you up,” he said, “I won’t be gone for long. Just wait here for me.”

The last bit was maybe redundant. She couldn’t move, let alone leave the room. But she just nodded in agreement, turning slightly to get closer to the still glowing fireplace. Since she wasn’t looking, Jihoon took a moment to stare before he left. He looked at the curve of her hip, letting his eyes travel to her chest and up to her clavicle. A sheen layer of sweat covered her. His eyes stayed looking at her face for a while. She wore a slight smile. It might have been a trick of the light, but Jihoon decided that he’d still let himself believe that she was smiling.

After cleaning Y/N up with a warm towel, Jihoon wrapped her up in blankets and laid down next to her. She had fallen asleep, probably too tired to stay awake any longer. The fire was burning bright again, as he had just put in an extra log in the furnace. More importantly, she was warm. Her back faced him, and being protected from her gaze made him more confident. Jihoon wrapped his arms around her waist and put his head by her shoulder. If he stayed very still, he could hear her soft breathing. Wrapping his arms even tighter around her in an attempt to pull her even closer, he pressed his nose against her neck. She smelled like a summer morning, when the air is slightly chilly and dewy - like the flowers had woken up from a nap and decided to share their fragrance with the rest of the world. Jihoon felt at home here. He was so lost in her that he hadn’t realized that she was stirring awake.

“You’re squeezing me,” she mumbled.

Jihoon’s grip immediately loosened, and he muttered out a shy apology. Y/N turned in his arms, now facing him. Her arms snaked up his shoulders and wrapped around his neck. As if it was in his nature, his head fell back into the crook of her neck. He could hear her chuckle, he could feel the vibrations from it in her chest. She didn’t comment on it, only threading her fingers through his hair.

“When was the last time you had a haircut?” she asked.

“Too long ago…” He sighed and looked up at her again. “Do you not like it?”

She took a good look at it, studying his hair like it was a rare artifact locked away in a museum. When she reached out to him, he immediately closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. With careful fingers, she brushed a few strands of hairs out of his face.

“I like it,” she said. “I think that short hair would suit you too, though… then again, I wouldn’t have as much to play with if it was short.”

“So?” He opened his eyes a crack. “Should I keep it long?”

“I think so.”

“Then I will.”

Her hand was cupping his cheek, and Jihoon put his own hand on top of it. Turning his head slightly, he kissed her palm before closing his eyes again. Y/N put her head under his chin, wrapping her arms around his torso. Jihoon drew small figures on her back with his fingers until they both fell asleep.

Jihoon woke up with a stiff back from sleeping on the floor. But he couldn’t find it in himself to complain when he saw Y/N still laying in his arms. He pulled her closer as much as he could without waking her. His fingers brushed against something on her back… it felt like tree bark. Jihoon shuffled around as carefully as he could, and turned Y/N to lay on her back. A spot of tree bark had formed on her back.

“Jihoon?” she mumbled. “What is it?”

“... your back. It’s…”

He paused, and Y/N brought her hand to her back. A sad sigh escaped her lips. She stretched and sat up, bringin the blanket up to cover her chest. When she wouldn’t look at him, Jihoon knew that something was wrong.

“This always happens when I don’t want it to.” She paused, and found the courage to look at him. “I can’t keep my human form forever.”

Jihoon’s heart sank. He reached out to hold her hand, but she pulled it back - looking closer at it, he could see that there was tree bark forming there too.

“What will happen to you?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“I’ll go back to my glade, and turn back into a tree… and you’ll stay here and continue your life until the next time you get to see me.”

“And how long will that be?”

“I don’t know… it’s been a while since I’ve been able to make myself visible to humans,” she explained, “I can take a mobile form without turning human, but I will only look like a gust of wind to humans. Something happened when I met you in the glade, something that hasn’t happened in a while.”

Jihoon didn’t know what to say. She’d be able to wander around in this second dimension that she was speaking of, being able to see but not be seen. He put his hand on top of hers, not caring about the patches of bark steadily growing there.

“Take me with you,” he said.

“What?”

“I want to join you, help you watch over the forest.”

A plan was set in motion - a hasty plan, but it was all that they had time for. They would go back to the glade, and Jihoon would hold Y/N’s hand as she went through her transformation. It wasn’t just a physical transformation, but a spiritual one as well. The hope was that Jihoon would follow her to her spiritual realm, where he would be able to stay with her. Duke was supposed to stay with one of Jihoon’s distant friends, but when the time came to leave he refused to get into the car. It was clear that Duke was ready to go with them.

There was not much time. They only brought the clothes on their backs, and hurried to the glade. Y/N sat on Jihoon’s back, too stiff to make any quick movements, and Duke was running ahead of them. The forest was lenient, letting them pass through without any roots or bushes in their way. Jihoon had always felt welcomed by the forest, but now it felt like he was a part of it.

The glade looked the same as it did the first time he was there. In the familiar surroundings, Jihoon let his shoulders drop and his muscles relax. He brought Y/N to the spot where no grass would grow, her feet already starting to change. Duke rested against her legs, and Jihoon grabbed her hand.

“You’ll really stay with me?” she asked.

“Forever,” he answered.

Her hand was warm and clammy, gripping his tightly. Jihoon closed his eyes. Take a moment. Breathe in the cold air, smell the trees and the wet moss. This is home. Take a moment, and clear your head. Whisper out a silent prayer for good luck for the rest of your life.

When Jihoon opened his eyes again, Y/N was still standing in front of him and Duke was still by his feet. She hadn’t turned into a tree, neither had he. But when she moved to embrace him, he saw an apple tree standing behind him. Jihoon held his hand out in front of him. If he looked closely, his skin was slightly sheer. Looking at Duke, he could see the same sheer effect on his fur. It hadn’t felt like anything at all, as if he was completely embraced by the forest even before he took her hand. Y/N’s grip around him loosened, and he turned from her to look around himself. It was the same forest he had lived in all this time. The trees looked the same, the red leaves on the ground looked the same, but everything was different. He could hear every sound of the forest - the growing and the dying - and he came to understand how everything was in constant movement, yet simultaneously completely still.

“Welcome home,” she said.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

No one ever figured out what happened to Lee Jihoon. Some say that he just moved, but the truck in his driveway and his things still where he left them says otherwise. The first few weeks there were search parties in the woods, but people soon realized that he hadn’t gotten lost either. It was a mystery that was just accepted.

As time moved on, his disappearance became more of a legend than anything else. A children’s tale to make sure that your kids didn’t get lost in the woods, or disrespect the forest. For if you ever dare do something that you shouldn’t, don’t be surprised if you hear the howl of a big dog as dark as the midnight sky. And if you ever get lost, look for the wind that seems to blow even in the densest parts of the forest. If you ask nicely, the protectors of the forest will take you in as well - but don’t think they’ll show you mercy if you try to cause even the slightest harm to their woods.

#svthub #svthub.collab #seventeen #svt #lee jihoon x reader #lee jihoon #jihoon x reader #woozi #seventeen woozi #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #kpop fanfiction #kpop fanfic #smut #angst #fluff #woozi fluff #bee buzzed εїз✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

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vulpisnocturna · 1 year ago

Text

Bloodstained Rubies - Chapter 1 - Snare

Not sure if I’m going to cross post here as well, but I’ll post the first chapter… in case I only continue it on AO3, this is the link

Chapter II

I do not condone this behaviour in real life. This is fictional. Please take care, read the warnings and avoid if you think this content may be triggering to you.

Warnings: Yandere Chrollo, Stalking, Kidnapping, Obssessive Love, Possessiveness, Jealousy, Drugging, Breaking and entering (Chrollo out here committing all the felonies)

Word Count: 5k

The rain had seeped into the cracks of the cobbled alleyway, rendering the stone slippery, dampening the aged brick walls caging the narrow passage, darkening the view even more. Straining eyes could only make out bulbous orange glows of faraway street lights, legs numbed from the cold autumnal air and unrelenting rainfall toiling to keep a rapid pace and avoid slipping on the damp stones.

Slowing down was not an option. Neither was turning back and choosing a different path. Over the sound of the roaring rain, soft footsteps could be heard, not too far away. Growing closer. Or perhaps it was a mere figment of an imagination much too vivid and active, and the danger was only the product of a life of warnings and cautionary tales. Like a monster under the bed.

Thirty steps. Thirty steps to the safety of the main street. Breath puffing in clouds of haze, raindrops adorning lashes, hair sticking to the skin, knees weak and unsteady.

Twenty.

It was closer now. Almost real.

Ten.

Almost tangible, close enough that the alleyway seemed to lengthen, dilating, making the main road impossible to reach. One slip on the damp cobblestones could spell demise.

Five.

The light was closer. People could be seen walking through the street, carrying umbrellas or hurrying through the rain. Safety.

One.

You inhaled sharply, your heart thundering in your ribcage, the sounds of the bustling street filling your ears, enveloping your heaving chest in relief. People walked by you, and you blended with the crowd, heading to the station. You had walked that alleyway a thousand times, and you’d never felt that dread, that feeling of being hunted. Targeted. Your bones had turned into ice in your body.

You had never been particularly impressionable, but in the last couple of weeks, you’d felt watched. But when you turned towards the alleyway, your eyes wandering around the street behind you, there was no one. You shook off the horrible feeling in your gut that told you to run and hide, and sought refuge in the warm underground station, tapping your phone at the gates and descending the stairs. No one was behind you. No one was out to get you. You were safe. You were going to go home and make yourself a cup of tea before you went to bed early.

You got on the train, sitting in a fairly crowded carriage, taking out Pride and Prejudice from your bag and resuming from where you had left off that morning. It was one of your favourite books, and you had read it dozens of times, but you still got some nostalgia for it from time to time.

The minutes passed, and you forgot all about your gut feeling in the alleyway, your mind immersed in the world of Elizabeth Bennett and her witty quips that always made you smile. She almost made you lose track of the stops, but luckily, you heard the announcement and stood up, hastily putting the bookmark at the page you had reached and hurrying to the platform.

Luckily, you lived a mere two minutes from the station, in the outskirts of the city, where trains could be heard even with the windows shut and the curtains drawn, but at least, you could afford your own place. It wasn’t all that bad, truly. It was a small house, reminiscent of a cottage with its brick walls and small rooms, and its low ceilings. It was cosy, covered with plants and books, it even had a small fireplace that was your pride and joy. You’d filled it with pillows, blankets and trinkets that had caught your eye in thrift shops and fair markets. You locked the door behind you, taking off your drenched coat and your damp boots, hating the feeling of wet socks clinging to your feet. You took them off too, deciding to have a hot shower before bed.

You had finished late at work, to the point where your boss had offered to get you some dinner, and you had gladly accepted, blinking your tired eyes at the computer screen to stay awake.

You were overworked and underpaid, but you needed that job desperately, and therefore, you made it a habit to gamble more unpaid hours for a more stable future. With the hope that one day, your hard work would pay off, and you’d get a promotion. So far, you’d been unsuccessful.

However, the week was now done, and you prepared yourself for a free day of peace. Saturdays were your favourite days. You usually tried to get up before nine, so that you could make the most of them. You made pancakes, went for a walk to the park next to your house, bought lunch at the quaint brunch stall by the lake and on good days, you ate under the weeping willow on the shore, basking in the sight of the tree branches swaying on the surface of the water, the water lilies crowding the shore and the sunlight reflecting on the lake. After that, you headed to the library in the city centre, where you would have spent all day if you could. You usually visited the market before you went home, and then, you would watch a film and head to bed later than usual. Sundays were your cleaning days usually, unless you wanted to meet up with a friend or needed to run errands.

You had no idea that Saturday would be the last chance for you to experience all those things.

The library was quiet that day, even though the rain had continued to pour down the city since Friday morning and people usually flocked there or to the museums and cinemas when it was gloomy outside. In your opinion, it was the best time to be at the library: the big, arched windows of the upper floor offered a scenic view of the storm brewing outside, and the warmth of the orange lights and the mahogany bookshelves of the antique library made you feel cosy. You were sitting on a plush green armchair, your favourite spot in the corner of the upper floor, right by the window and the classics section. Something about the smell of the old books that were gathered there offered you comfort.

‘Excuse me, miss’ you heard a soft, masculine voice say, timbre smooth and rich. You lifted your eyes from your book, looking at the man in front of you. Your stomach dropped for a second, and you swallowed, trying not to stare. He was around your age, perhaps a few years older, and the most attractive man you had ever seen in your life. His lean, tall build was highlighted by smart black trousers, a simple maroon jumper and a long, black coat. Round, slightly upturned grey eyes sat in a face of sharp cheekbones, angular jaw, delicate and yet masculine nose and well-defined lips stretched into a slight smile. He was wearing an odd bandana of sorts on his forehead, but it did nothing to dampen his looks. Shoulder-length black hair fell in unruly strands around his neck and shorter bangs that covered parts of his forehead, and round turquoise earrings shone on his ears, the bright hues contrasting against the beautiful dark hair.

‘Uhm- yes?’ you murmured, righting your posture a little under his gaze.

‘I was wondering if you dropped this bracelet by any chance’ he said, lifting a hand, your gold bracelet dangling from his tapered, willowy fingers. You glanced at your wrist, clearing your throat.

‘Yeah- yes, thank you, that’s mine’ you said, holding the book with one hand and lifting yourself up, extending your hand. Instead of giving it to you, he held your hand and wrapped it around your wrist, clasping it and giving you a smile. Your breath threatened to falter, and you were almost hypnotised by him as he gave one last stroke to the back of your hand before he let it go.

‘There. Should be safe from slipping now’ he said, and you noticed he was holding a book in his hand. The Picture of Dorian Gray, one of your favourite books. So not only was he handsome, he also had good taste.

‘Thank you’ you said again, smiling at him. He nodded.

‘I’m Chrollo’ he said, extending a hand. You shook it, giving him your name in return, and he said it himself, as though he was weighing it on his tongue. It sounded good in his voice. Soft, like a gentle caress on your spine. It made shivers run down your spine.

‘I’ve never seen you here before’ you said conversationally, hoping your social skills hadn’t been too hindered by your nervousness around someone so attractive and charming speaking to you.

‘This is my first time visiting this library, actually. I have only recently moved here, and I happened to walk by and see this building, and I had to visit it. It is truly beautiful here. A very pleasant place to read in peace’ he said, and you nodded along. He was so like you, you thought the same of this library. It was your special place in this city.

‘I feel the same way. I come here every Saturday, just to escape the daily life for a while. How are you finding the city? Are you here for work?’ you asked, finding yourself drawn to that stranger for some reason. There was something fascinating about him, something enigmatic. Or perhaps it was just the way his grey eyes seemed so intense, as though he could read your mind. He was like a lead character in a book.

‘I am. The city centre is quite beautiful architecturally, but I haven’t had the chance to partake in much sightseeing’ he said, ‘and you? Why are you here? Work, or is this the city you grew up in?’

‘No, I grew up in a very small town you probably never heard of. A boring place. I came here to find some work a couple of years ago’ you said, hoping that before the conversation ended, you could get his number. You hadn’t been in the dating scene for a while, and though you were busy, this stranger was just too intriguing. He seemed so intelligent, soft-spoken and genuinely interested in you.

‘I see. I’m afraid I must take my leave now. Allow me to buy you a coffee before that’ he said, putting down the book in a basket by the banister. Your stomach felt warm, and you chuckled nervously, finding it hard to keep eye contact when he was staring at you so intently.

‘Oh, no, you’ve already found my bracelet, I wouldn’t want to keep you. Besides, the prices here are outrageous’ you stammered. Did he like you? Was he truly... flirting with you? This was more like a scene out of a romance book rather than real life.

‘Please, I insist’ he smiled, and you could not say no.

‘Oh, well... thank you. That’s really kind of you’ you said, following him towards the stairs. Chrollo’s eyes softened, and he shook his head.

‘It’s my pleasure’ he only said, smoothly, nonchalantly, as he started to descend the stairs, with you following close.

The cafeteria was placed near the entrance, and you had always deemed it too expensive as a treat. But Chrollo did not even have a change in expression as his eyes followed the menu on the chalkboard on the wall.

‘What would you like?’ he asked, and you eyed the drinks and the corresponding prices, gaze trailing to seek the cheapest one.

‘Uhm... just a coffee would be fine, thank you’ you said hesitantly. He let out a soft sigh.

‘I would not offer it to you if I could not afford it. What would you really like?’ he asked, a sly smirk on his face. Your cheeks felt hot, and you smoothed the front of your jumper in an attempt to calm the embarrassment of him calling you out.

‘A chai latte, please’ you murmured, and he nodded, seemingly pleased as he made his way to the till and took out a black leather wallet from the pocket of his coat. When he came back, he was holding your drink along with his. From the smell, it was black coffee. Quite in tune with his gothic appearance.

‘Thank you, Chrollo’ you smiled at him, holding the cup with both hands when he handed it to you, warming your cold fingers.

‘It was a pleasure to talk to you. I hope to see you again soon’ he said, standing closer to you, his fingers reaching to tuck a wayward strand of hair behind your ear. You didn’t realise you were holding your breath until he stepped away.

‘Me too’ you murmured, earning another slight smile from him as he walked away, sipping his coffee and disappearing behind the corner that led to the exit.

You smiled, fingertips reaching to your cheek, the skin feeling warm where he had touched you.

You found you could not wait until the next Saturday, hoping he would remember that you’d said you’d be there and visit the library again.

Your Sunday was spent running errands, getting a haircut, visiting your friend who was in the hospital following a fall from the stairs that had resulted in two broken legs and a concussion. He was quite optimistic despite saying that he had had no idea how he’d fallen, that he’d just felt pain on his nape and then he had lost consciousness. When he’d woken up, his legs were horribly broken and bent as he had fallen from a flight of stairs.

You’d just seen him the day of the accident in the morning, and he had seemed fine, not dizzy or anything. Although he’d been reminiscing about a crush he’d had on you years ago, which to you was odd, as you had had no idea he had ever liked you.

Nevertheless, the doctors had said he’d been lucky to survive because his head trauma was nothing short of dangerous. You were just glad he was in good spirits and looking forward to getting better.

You smiled slightly, turning the keys to your door and stepping in, holding the letters you hadn’t yet opened as you walked into the living room.

The first one was your electricity bill, the second one a useless letter of invite to a neighbourhood church meeting-

‘Hello, darling’

You let out a scream, your heart skipping a beat as you spun around, the letters falling to the ground, and your terrified eyes set on the man who was lounging on your sofa, sipping a cup of tea from your favourite mug.

Chrollo.

It was Chrollo. The guy whom you’d met the day before. The kind, handsome man who’d found your bracelet and offered to buy you a coffee.

‘W-what are you doing here? How do you know where I live? How did you get in?’ you stuttered, taking a trembling step back. He took another sip, setting your mug down.

‘I came to visit you. You have a very flimsy lock, it’s very unsafe’ he said calmly, as though his words were not completely insane. He’d broken into your house? Was he- a stalker? The presence you’d felt in the alleyway… was that him?

You felt nausea coil in your gut, making your head spin with fear and horror.

Another step back. His eyes were on you. Calm, unfazed. He was smiling slightly, as though amused. But he was sitting, and you were less than ten feet away from the door. But it was locked. You needed time. At least a few seconds of advantage.

Your phone. You would call the police whilst you talked to him. But your phone was in the hallway. Not with you.

‘Chrollo- please go away’ you tried pleadingly, hoping it would make him spare you. It did not.

‘There is no need to worry. I won’t hurt you, darling’ he said, voice soft and sweet. You shivered, and when you saw he was taking another sip of his coffee, you bolted to the door.

Your fingers had barely managed to graze the keys when he appeared in front of you, blocking the door, clucking his tongue against his teeth. How had he managed to get there so quickly? What was he going to do to you?

The kitchen. You needed to get to the back door. Maybe grab a knife and stab him.

‘Now, now, this would be much easier if you just listened’ he said, but you did not wait for him to grab you. You made a beeline for the kitchen, and you had almost reached the handle when he once again appeared in front of you. You flinched, stumbling back, spinning to the counter and grabbing a large knife. Chrollo let out a soft laugh.

‘Oh, darling. I admire your efforts, but that won’t help you. Put it down’ he said easily, one hand in his pocket as he approached you. You swallowed heavily, cold sweat clinging to your spine as your fingers tightened around the handle until you thought you could feel welts stinging your skin.

You could hear the hammering of your heart in your ears, the heavy sound of your panting.

When he took another step, you swung at his stomach. Your wrist was caught in an iron grip, and you hissed in pain, your fingers loosening instinctively until the knife clattered to the ground.

Your eyes burnt with tears, and you tried to punch him, which only resulted in your other hand being caught. Thrashing wildly, like a caged animal, you kicked and pulled to no avail.

Chrollo was too strong. Inhumanly so. He was like a brick wall, completely unfazed by your attempts at escaping or hitting him.

‘Let me go! Let me go!’ you screamed your lungs out, until one of his hands lifted to cover your mouth and he pushed you against the wall, trapping you against it.

‘Shh, shh. You are being such a brat, my love. This is all futile, can’t you see? Where’s the sweet girl I met yesterday? The one who could not stop blushing and smiling at me?’ he asked against your ear, pushing his body more into you. Your eyes widened as you felt a hard bulge against your backside.

No. No, no, no. This could not be happening. Not to you. Not here. This was your safe haven. Your home.

You screamed, sounds muffled by his hand, and he let out a sigh.

‘You have nothing to fear. I don’t plan on acting on my desires as of yet. However, your defiance is starting to irritate me. I’m going to have to take more drastic measures’ he said, and you felt his hand leave your mouth briefly and return pushing a cloth to your mouth and nose. Your heartbeat shot up as panic gripped your stomach, and you held your breath, kicking and thrashing, unable to get him off you until you had to breathe in that sweet-smelling scent. He held it there for a few seconds, and your head immediately started spinning, your ears starting to ring.

‘I’m truly sorry to have to do this, darling. If you’d been compliant, I wouldn’t have had to knock you unconscious’ he said, and your legs wobbled when he pulled it away, to the point where they could not hold your weight and you slumped to the ground. He caught you, holding you against him, and even though you tried to fight back, to push him away, your body was limp and it would not do what you wanted it to.

‘What… did you give me?’ you breathed, vision blurry, your body completely numb. He pushed away the strands of hair from your face, stroking your cheek.

‘Shh. Just an incapacitating agent. This will make you sleep for a few hours. Close your eyes, my love. You must be so tired after all that screaming and thrashing. You can rest now, I’ll watch over you’ he said gently, and you blinked slowly, trying to see him through the dark splotches in your field of view, trying to curse him, to beg him to leave, but your mouth would not move anymore. Soon, the darkness pulled you in and made you its prisoner.

Chrollo smiled, stroking your soft hair, tracing the skin of your jaw and lips. He hadn’t been able to hold himself any longer after having made contact with you. He’d first seen you a month earlier, in that picturesque library where you were curled on a green armchair, completely spellbound as you read Pride and Prejudice in front of an arched window. He had been entranced from the first moment he’d seen you. It wasn’t just your appearance, though he was convinced there was no woman more beautiful than you were, but your mannerisms, your soft smiles as you read specific lines, the way your eyebrows furrowed when you were concentrating, the natural innocence that radiated from you, that had been what had truly ensnared him. That moment, he’d decided that he needed to know everything about you, from your hobbies to your favourite colour to your life story.

He had never fallen in love, but the feeling that had bloomed in his cold heart must have been love: it was desperate, all-consuming, and yet so gentle and calming. It burnt and soothed his soul at the same time. Images of you plagued his every second, and he could think of nothing but to have you all to himself. Why should the world be allowed to benefit from your presence? Why should people be allowed to leer at you, desire you, want you for themselves? He wanted all of you to be consumed by him just as every part of him was consumed by you. He did not want to share your affection with anyone else.

He had followed you home many times, making sure you were safe. After all, you didn’t even know how to use Nen. You were so delicate, like turquoise and amber gemstones. So beautiful, yet so easily broken. With his new love for you came a heart-wrenching fear of losing you: in a world like that, you could never protect yourself. Only he could offer you enough safety.

Despite being a normal civilian, your intuition and gut feeling was impressive. Sometimes, he had to rely on Zetsu in order to avoid being sensed by you. You had a keen sense of danger. Not that it would help you.

Your house was little, much too inadequate and meagre for someone who deserved the most beautiful things the world had to offer. But you would not have to live in this dingy neighbourhood, with the train tracks so close to your windows, for much longer. Despite the grimy neighbourhood, your cottage was cosy. Decorated with everything that made up your lovely personality, Chrollo had felt his chest swell with warmth as he walked silently around the living room the first time he’d broken in, examining your collection of books, seeing which ones were more tattered, lines on the spines of cheap copies. You deserved the feel of an antique book in your hands, not one of those second-rate editions. He could tell from the décor how much you loved this place. He would make sure you had plants, a fireplace, paintings and books and whatever else your heart desired.

All the treasures in the world had been made for you, he’d decided. And he’d steal them all. Then, he had wandered to the small bedroom connected to the living room. His eyes were accustomed to the darkness, he could see your sleeping form curled under the blankets, lips parted and breath steady and heavy. You looked so beautiful, so peaceful. He had the urge to slip the blanket off you, hold you to him, bury his face in your hair. But he didn’t. Not when he could not see your reaction. He wanted you to be awake, wanted you to want him to do all those things.

Temptation had taken him as far as stroking your hair, bending his head to press his lips against the top of your head. The scent of it, so sweet and reminiscent of a spring meadow, had almost made him groan.

He had visited you at night more often, and every time, he would dream of you afterwards, always waking up burning with desire. He needed you. Needed you all to himself. And so he resorted to doing what he did best: steal you.

He knew your patterns well after a few weeks: you worked a contemptible job undeserving of you Monday to Friday, and often stayed late, to the point where you would have to walk back to the station in the dark through dingy alleyways. It was completely and utterly unacceptable. On Saturdays, you walked through the park near your house and then went to the library in the city centre. On Sundays, you stayed home. Before he stole you, though, he wanted to speak to you.

The Sunday he had planned to meet you as you went about your errands, he had seen you visit a man you seemed friendly with. You had gone for lunch with him, laughed at his inane jokes, smiled at him. Chrollo had gotten closer to overhear the conversation, finding out that the swine was infatuated with you. Jealousy he had never felt in his life had burnt hot and bitter in the pit of his stomach, and he had barely been able to restrain the urge to kill him there and then.

But he couldn’t, not in front of you. You were too precious and sweet to bear such a sight. And he would need to make it painful, as punishment for the crime committed. He also did not like the idea of you shedding tears for that moron. No, he would have to kill him after he stole you. It would not do for you to weep for him, be consumed with thoughts about him, when Chrollo wanted him to disappear from the face of the Earth. It did not mean he couldn’t inflict pain on him in the meantime, though.

So that was what he had done. It was a meagre consolation, mere crumbs of reprieve for his resentment, but at the very least, he had had the pleasure of seeing him fall on his legs in the worst way. The worst possible fractures would be there, possibly incredibly painful and inoperable. He hoped the hit to his head had not made him a vegetable. He wanted him cognisant and receptive when he returned to visit him.

Because of the little mishap, he hadn’t been able to steal you on that Sunday and had had to wait one more week, which had only fuelled his bitterness for your acquaintance. However, it had also given him the possibility of meeting you at the library on the following Saturday. And God, you were truly delightful. Sweet and shy, kind and trusting. He had had to leave, or he would have stolen you right there and then. He could see you liked him, his touch. You had been keen to have more. And he would be delighted to grant your wishes.

Which was why he had chosen the next day to wait for you at your house. And now, he finally had you in his arms, though you had been a little recalcitrant. It had saddened him to have to render you unconscious, and the fact that you had seemed so frightened despite him reassuring you he had no intention of harming you was deeply displeasing. Still, he would be a liar if he denied that your fervour and defiance hadn’t tempted him, too. You had just been thrashing in his arms, rubbing against his body in the most sinful ways, and he had only wanted to have you at that very moment. But it would not do. You had been too scared and taken aback to enjoy the encounter, and he planned to make it unforgettable for the both of you.

So he had merely resorted to knocking you unconscious so you would stop causing a commotion.

He picked you up gently, lowering you on the sofa whilst he went to see if there was anything he needed to take with him. He could get you more clothes, ones that would look perfect on you. But he still got you a few handpicked garments for the time being, including your prettiest lingerie, which was utterly ravishing. He could hardly wait to see it on you and tear it off your body.

Your perfume was on the dresser, and he happened to have developed quite a liking for it. It wasn’t as expensive as something he could have gotten for you, but he could find a substitute for it that resembled its scent in the future. For now, he put it in the bag he’d taken with him. None of your books were of any significance, he had memorised the ones you liked the most and planned to get you antiques of those. Jewellery was also not an issue. He could get you so much better. Rubies or emeralds would look stunning on you, he thought. He got your passport, wallet and phone, just to throw off the police, and closed the bag. He put the knife you’d tried to use on him back in the holder and exited the house, putting the bag in the trunk of his car and going back to get you. You were still unconscious, sprawled on the sofa, and he checked once again that no signs of struggle could be seen before he picked you up, took the keys from the dresser next to the front door and closed the door behind him.

He lowered you on the backseat, closing the door and letting out a sigh as he walked to the front and locked the doors before he drove away. You were finally his.

Chapter II

#chrollo #chrollo lucilfer #hxh chrollo #yandere chrollo #yandere chrollo x reader #chrollo x reader #yandere chrollo lucilfer #chrollo x you #chrollo x y/n #yandere chrollo x you #chrollo smut #yandere chrollo smut

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ponderingmoonlight · 1 year ago

Text

Luck in misfortune

Pairing: Megumi Fushiguro x reader

Word count: 5,4k

Synopsis: After you get seriously injured by a cursed and saved by Megumi, he begins to develop feelings for you he never imagined could exist.

Warnings: death, injury, language, hurt/comfort

The rain hangs heavy in the air this late evening, thick droplets are pattering loudly against your umbrella. While your summer dress sticks to you uncomfortably like a second skin, your feet move as fast as possible in the direction of your warm apartment. Today’s work was particularly strenuous. You curse yourself for putting on that dress. Given the fact that you know the costumers of the café you are working in after school good enough, you should have known that you’ll put yourself in uncomfortable situations. Vehemently shaking your head, trying to chase away their stupid sayings. That doesn’t matter anymore. At the end of the day you managed to earn some extra money for your family. And that’s all that matters.

In the corner of your eye you recognize a bush full of beautiful orange flowers. Your mother loves flowers, surely it would brighten up her day when you pick her a little bouquet, right? Eyeing them carefully, you are keen to pick the most beautiful ones that match her delightful personality the best. There is nothing more important to you than your mother. Taking care of her and her illness is your highest priority since you were 10. If you earn enough money, she can undergo a new treatment and her illness could finally be cured. A thought that gets you up every morning full of energy, only to fall into bed dead tired late at night.

Your thoughts are sharply interrupted. It happens faster that you could ever react. Without a warning or a sign, you are being pushed onto the wet tarmac by a weight that seems like a ton. The air completely escapes from your lungs, you can feel your rips cracking under the pressure. What is that? Your mind races, trying to catch a glimpse of the thing that seems to crush you to death. But there is absolutely nothing. No human, no animal, no object. Your eyes widen in horror, a silent scream escapes your lips. Your vision is clouded by blood mixed with the heavy rainfalls running down your entire face.

A stinging pain begins to trace up your to that point uninjured legs. You urgently try to shake off the pain, to free yourself, to kick whatever tries to kill you off your body. But there’s nothing you can do. Instead, your eyes widen in horror while the aching inside your whole body almost drives you insane. It feels like you’re being eating alive with your attacker sitting on top of you. But how? Who? Nothing and nobody was around, you just wanted to pick up a bouquet.

Is this how your life comes to an end? Without even knowing what you’re dying of? You would have needed a few more months to scrape together the money your mother needs so urgent for her treatment. What will become of her when you’re gone? Tears stream down your face in a last desperate attempt to stand up. Your vision becomes blurry, a constant ringing begins to grow louder and louder in your ears. You feel the lack of oxygen slowly pull you away from reality, from Tokyo, from your mother, from your whole life…

Suddenly, the enormous weight on your body disappears.

“There’s a girl! Hey, are you alight?”, the voice of a boy lingers through your weak mind.

No matter how hard you try to lift your head in order to look at him, your body refuses to move entirely. Pain paralyzes you, it’s like you’ve forgotten how to breathe.

“Satoru, I found the curse and a girl fell victim to him. She’s severely injured, tell Shoko it’s an emergency and that I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

He kneels next to your head on the wet street and bends down. His beautiful eyes seem to be filled with worry, although he is very keen to hide his feelings behind a poker face.

“Don’t worry, I will take you to a good doctor, everything will be fine.”

His hands briefly caresses your cheek, before he scoops you into his arms. Your whole body begins to burn like a thousand fires, air forces itself into your lungs again and makes you breathe frantically. You can’t help but let out a toe-curling scream.

“I know, it’s okay. Calm your breathing, focus on me. Can you hear my heartbeat? Concentrate on that. Everything will be okay, I promise.”, he whispers and starts moving.

“I-I…need…to go…h-home”, you breathe out, ribs aching with every word you blurt out.

His heart beats fast but steady in his chest, somehow very peaceful…

“You need to see a doctor. What’s your name?”

“(y/n)…”

“(y/n), I know how bad all of that must be, but you gotta hold on for me, you hear? My name is Megumi”, the boy talks to you.

You find it increasingly difficult to focus on his steady heartbeat or the calming sound of his voice. Sleep. Sleep seems to be the only thing you need right now. Your heavy lids hang low on your eyes.

“Don’t fall asleep, (y/n), stay with me”, his voice demands.

“Sorry Megumi, I…just so tired…Thank y-…”, you breathe out gently.

The last thing you see is your beloved mother and her soft smile before everything went black.

“Fuck”, Megumi mutters to himself and picks up his pace. ______________________________________________________________

He was too late. His shikigami were only able to detect this curse when it appeared and buried your small frame under it. Now, your lovely blue summer dress is soaked in blood and your heartbeat keeps getting weaker. If Gojo hadn’t distracted him, he would have been with you 5 minutes earlier. 5 minutes more to cast the curse out without ever harming you. Your beautiful face looks so peaceful even though it’s covered in blood. You seem so nice, even tried to thank him for saving you. How old are you? Inspecting your body and facial features, you are probably the same age. His grip on your body tightens. It is his responsibility to save you.

“Shoko, she needs help, now!”, Megumi instructs harshly and gently lays her body down on a sickbed nearby.

“Why are you so upset, Megumi? She’s still alive after all”, the familiar voice of his sensei blurts out from the other side of the room.

“Hardly, I would say. What is wrong with you?”

“Don’t mind him, he’s just an asshole. Let me take a look at her”, Shoko interrupts while putting on her gloves and taking your side.

Megumi’s heart seems to beat out of his chest when eyeing his uniform that is now soaked in your blood. Damn, so much blood. You just can’t die. Please let Shoko be able to fix you.

“Do you like the small something, Megumi-chan? Could be your age, it’s hard to tell with girls these days”, Gojo notes playfully while observing your battered body.

“Can you just shut up already?”, Megumi shouts, running his hands through his hair frantically.

“Can you guys stop fighting? That curse basically crashed her ribcage, I’ll have to operate her so that nothing burrows into her internal organs. A laceration on her forehead, blunt trauma all over the body, otherwise she’s okay. I don’t want to get too bogged down, but I think she survives with no lasting damage”, Shoko explains briefly.

A wave of relief washes over Megumi. You will make it, he just knows it. You just need time to heal.

______________________________________________________________

Your eyes vehemently resist staying closed any longer. Blinking against the harsh light above you, you try to comprehend what is going on. Where are you? What happened? Is your mother okay? You have to get up and search for her.

But as you try to raise your torso, a sickening pain rushes through your body and takes your breath away.

“Please, don’t move. Your body is still weak and severely injured.”

That voice. You know that voice. But who does it belong to? You slowly tilt your head to the side, just enough to catch a glimpse. The boy sitting next to you has an absolutely mesmerizing face, his dark blue eyes rest on you. Is this…

“You are the boy who saved me that night…”, you breathe out.

Your voice is weak and battered with your throat being completely sore. Instantly, he grabs a glass of water holds a straw to your mouth. You take a few small gulps, the fresh water caresses your body in a way you’d never imagined.

“Please, you are too kind to me. If it wasn’t for you, I’d probably be dead by now. I owe you my life.”

Tears start to swell up in your eyes. The constant pain in your body, your life that passed you by, the unconditional kindness of a stranger. All of this seems to be too much for you.

“Please don’t cry, after all it is my job to save non-jujustu users from curses like the one that attacked you. For now, you can show your appreciation by getting healthy again”, he softly speaks out and places his hand on your shoulder.

“Curses, jujutsu?”

Your eyes widen in the light of these completely new terms. What is he talking about?

“Don’t worry about that, I’ll maybe explain that to you another time.”

Suddenly it comes over you. Your mother. She must be terribly worried. How long have you been here? A look out of the window tells you that it is daytime. You should have been home by now.

“I need to go”, you murmur.

As you try to get up, Megumi’s hands gently pushes you back down. Panic blurs your vision. What if something happens to her? When she’s worried? Does she know where you are, that you’re alright?

“I already contacted your mother and told her about the incident. She is fine and insists that you stay here until you’re well. I’m supposed to tell you not to worry and that she loves you. As soon as you feel better you can give her a call”, Megumi explains patiently.

A wave of relief washes over you. She’s alright. That’s all that matters.

“I can’t thank you enough for letting her know. You can’t imagine how much that means to me. You are a truly wonderful person, Megumi”, you whisper and gift him with the most breathtaking smile he has ever seen.

His cheeks grow hot as your sweet words repeat themselves over and over in his mind. And the sight of your inviting eyes that seem to be drenched in love and kindness.

“Oh, stop complimenting me, please”, he stutters awkwardly.

“Would you mind staying with me and telling me something about yourself?”, you request, a soft smile decorating your face.

“Well…there’s not much to tell I guess. I’m Megumi Fushiguro and a first-year student at Tokyo Jujutsu High”, he briefly clarifies.

“What is your favorite color? What is your favorite food? How old are you? Where do you live? Please, keep on talking. Your voice could calm the oceans.”

Again, that breathtaking smile. Normally, Megumi would roll his eyes in annoyance and leave you alone. But you are…so innocent and sweet. Just the thought of refusing your request triggers an uncomfortable feeling in him.

And so he sits by your bed for more than two hours and tells you stories from his life at the Jujutsu Academy, explains the phenomenon of curses, his job, how he even ended up there. You just gazed at him, laughed from time to time, almost piercing him with your questions. You tell him about the loss of your father and sister in a car accident, the illness of your mother and that you are working hard in order to finance her special treatment as she is unable to work. The determination and fire in your eyes makes his heart go soft. You truly are a delightful and resilient person, that’s for sure. You’re probably the only being in his life that Megumi has any credit for.

He watches patiently how your eyelids started to get heavier and heavier, until you finally fall asleep when he narrates a story from Gojo and him. A small smile creeps onto his lips before he can stop himself.

“Sleep well, (y/n)”, he whispers and brushes over your shoulder briefly before standing up and leaving the room to allow you some rest.

“Megumi-chan, do you have a new girlfriend? Look at that precious smile on his face, I think my boy is in love Shoko!”, Gojo cries out und theatrically puts his hand on his forehand.

Gojo’s sight alone washes the smile off Megumi’s face immediately.

“Shut up, I only kept her company because nobody else can come and visit her”, Megumi explains dryly.

“Oh, I’m sure you do. Do we need to talk about…Certain practices? I’m actually not ready to have a conversation like this with you, but-“

“I don’t need any advice from you. I go training with the others, call me when she’s awake Shoko”, Megumi interrupts dryly

“Something’s brewing there, I can sense it”, Gojo mutters to himself.

“Leave the young ones alone, Satoru. You will only scare the girl away”, Shoko replies with a sign.

_____________________________________________________________

The days were always the same. Whenever you woke up, Megumi was by your side. You talked for hours about the craziest things, he even laughed a few times. Your injuries are now almost completely healed, which meant that you will leave within the next day and return to your mother, your normal life. You missed her very much even though you called her multiple times a day. But the fact that you won’t be able to chat with Megumi anymore leaves your heart shattered. Over the course of the last weeks, you grew closer to each other. You can’t imagine your life without him anymore. His sight alone makes you see stars. But you can’t bring yourself to tell him about it. After all, you were his mission and there will be many more times when he saves other people’s lives. There is no place in his life for you anymore.

“I love watching the stars. Too bad you can’t really see them over Tokyo.”

Megumi is currently unable to look at the starry sky. His gaze is fixed on you and how strikingly your eyes sparkle in the dim moonlight. God, you are so lovely. Not only because of your handsome sight, but especially because of your heart of gold. How disciplined you work just to pay for your mother’s treatment is fascinating. You are always polite, open and genuinely nice to everyone you meet. Soon, you won the hearts of Panda, Toge and even Maki with your charm. And Megumi’s heart? His heart has been yours since the moment you laid your eyes on him for the first time.

“I guess the light pollution isn’t that bad here…”, Megumi mutters in response.

“Looking at the stars in your company is so much better than alone”, you admit, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

His cheeks redden almost imperceptibly as you sink into his dark blue eyes.

“I really enjoy your company, Megumi”, you add.

“Let’s search for zodiac signs!”

Your gaze wanders to the sky again while he cannot take his eyes off you.

“That looks like a…cow!”

“I’m pretty sure a cow is no zodiac sign, (y/n).”

“You need to take a look at it, here!”

Your arm gently wraps around his while you point to the sky with your other hand.

Megumi’s heart races so loud in his chest he’s scared you can hear it. Your innocent touch burns so delightfully on his skin that he wants to pull you closer, explore you a little further, wants to get lost in your eyes forever. He can’t take his eyes off you anymore.

“Hey, you aren’t even looking”, you complain playfully.

Your eyes get stuck on his. You always knew how beautiful he actually is, but at this moment with him wearing only a casual T-Shirt and his hair a little messy, you are convinced fully that he is the most striking male being you have ever seen. The little smile on your face slowly disappears, you feel like you’re in a trance. He is so close to you, skin to skin, faces only inches apart. If you move a little closer…

“To be honest I prefer looking at you.”

You let out the air inside your lungs you didn’t know you were holding. If you weren’t already sitting, you’d probably be on your knees by now in excitement. No boy has ever said such a thing to you, especially one you feel the same way about.

“Would you…Would you mind to hold me a little closer?”, you mumble under your breath, face growing unbearably hot.

He inhales rapidly at your words. You want him to hold you? Him?

“I-if you i-insist…I guess I c-can”, he stutters.

You scoop a little closer, your sides now touching completely. Megumi’s arms slowly breaks free from your hold and ghosts over your back until it's wrapped around you. Shivers run down your spine uncontrollably. God, he’s touching you, he’s holding you in his arm. You hesitantly put your head on his shoulder. He smells so nice with his heat warming you from the inside. You never knew what it feels like to be in a boy’s arms but Megumi’s touch is surely addicting.

“Like that?”, he questions unusual insecure.

“That is absolutely perfect. I…have never done this”, you admit.

You have to close your eyes for a second to take in this precious moment fully. Who would have thought that such a bad accident would result in something so wonderful?

“I think you are my luck in misfortune, Megumi.”

_________________________________________________________

“Are you okay, Panda?”, you call across the training field, voice filled with concern after Maki kicked him hard.

Last night was truly flawless. You two sat like that on the roof for a few hours until you finally fell asleep and woke up again this morning in your room. Just thinking about him makes butterflies fly all around you, you couldn’t sit still any longer. When will he show up for training?

“Don’t worry about me, (y/n), I’m alright!”

“Hey, I didn’t expect you here so soon.”

His voice makes your heart skips a beat. Instantly, you turn around to soak in Megumi’s beautiful sight. He’s wearing his tracksuit again, ready for joining the practice. You love watching him training, his movements are so elegant and strong.

“Nice to see you, Shoko freed me earlier as everything seems fine. She said that I can be released tomorrow”, you reply with a small smile.

“Oh, that’s great. You must be so glad to finally leave this place.”

“Well…I am in between, to be honest. On one hand, it’s a relief to finally be close to my mother again and that I can go back to work. But on the other hand that means that I’ll have to leave you although I grew very fond of you”, you explain shyly.

Your face heats up in an instant. You have never told him so directly that you will miss him. Could you meet again? Could he visit you? What does he think about last night? Should you address your feelings?

“You shouldn’t work from morning to night, (y/n). Especially after the incident”, he replies dryly.

“Do you think you will come visit me?”, you ask with a hopeful voice

“I don’t have time for that, (y/n). It was my mission to save you and I have fulfilled it.”

Your heart sinks into your chest. He completely ignored your words and he has never spoken to you with so little affection. What about last night? You laid in his arms until you fell asleep, you would have sworn that he…likes you too.

Suddenly, you want to get away. Away from the field, away to your room, especially away from his overwhelming presence. Of course you knew that he probably wouldn’t as strongly as you do, but you didn’t expect it to leave him so emotionless, that he really only sees you as a mission. “I-I…I thought that I am more than just a mission for you. After all, we spent so much time together and last night I-“

“(y/n), he interrupts you coldly.

“It was never more.”

You swallow hard. That punch in your feelings probably hurt more than any broken ribs. You have to get out of here. You put on a little cramped smile and turn away from Megumi.

“Please excuse me, I go to my room and rest a little. Enjoy the training, bye”, you call, so your words reach Maki, Panda and Toge as well.

“You idiot”, Maki hisses through gritted teeth and gazes at Megumi condescending who looks at you lost in thought.

“Unfortunately, this time I have to agree with Maki”, Panda interjects, shaking his head.

“Salmon.”

“What did I do?”, Megumi questions, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

Maki slaps his head hardy.

“What you did? You brushed her off, moron.”

“Such a nice girl, why don’t you let yourself get close to her? I’ve seen the looks you exchanged. Even a panda doesn’t miss this. And what exactly happened last night?”

“She has no feelings for me, there is no reason for that. (y/n) is just very grateful to me for saving her life.”

“She loves you, goddamn!”, Maki blurts out impatiently.

“How could she? Stop meddling in my life!”, he snaps unusual irritated.

“I couldn’t care less about your life, idiot. I have sympathy for (y/n) whose feelings you have hurt for no reason. Nobody knows what happened between you both, but apparently it made her gather all her courage and indirectly confess her feelings to you, which you have trampled on. She’ll be gone tomorrow, you get that? Can you really live with the fact that she will always think you see her as a mission? You’re lucky that a girl like her developed feelings for you at all.”

Megumi can’t take it anymore. Without another word, he turns on his heels and just walks away.

Fuck, his mind is racing. Hurting you is the last thing he wants to do, but he’s just not good enough. He has no time, is in constant mortal danger and most importantly, he has no idea how to show you his feelings in the way you deserve it. You are so lovely, you deserve so much more than him. Pushing you away is the price he needs to pay for you to be happy, even though it means hurting you first.

“Why are you not working out, Megumi-chan? (y/n) must be waiting for you”, Gojo purrs.

No, not him. Satoru is the last person he wants to see right now.

“None of your fucking business.”

“Oh, so feisty. Maybe that’s why (y/n) seemed so troubled when I saw her.”

“I don’t care about her”, Megumi hisses back.

Oh, what a big lie that was. If he tells himself that often enough, he might believe himself at some point.

“Come on, you can’t lie to me. That’s not the problem, is it?”

“I can’t make her happy, okay? I’d rather disappoint her now than later.”

Megumi’s eyes are glued to the ground, trying desperately to banish the images from last night from his mind. Your cute little laugh, the way you felt so right in his arms, as if you always belonged to his side. He saw the affection you hold for him in your eyes, clearly. But he deserves none of it. Not your time, your presence, your touch. You’re better off alone.

“Well, you can’t make her happy by breaking her heart, obviously. Does not work like that, trust your sensei. Go and talk to her, it’s not too late womanizer.”

With that, Satoru is gone.

“Fuck”, Megumi hisses to himself, hands resting against his temple.

What if Gojo is right, though? A small voice in his head wonders if he really couldn’t make you happy after all, if he shouldn’t at least try. You looked so breathtaking cheerful while he was holding you. Is this really enough for you?

Maybe…Maybe he should talk to you.

You stare at the ceiling, silent tears running down your face. You feel so stupid, thinking that you really mean something to him. After all, Megumi has far more important things to do than indulge his feelings. He is very important to so many people, there is just no space left for you in his life.

“You are my mission.”

But still…Your eyes swell up with tears again, whole body shaking in sadness. But still you had a spark of hope left. The way he held you in his arms last night made you feel a way you never experienced before. Just the thought of going through something like that with another boy makes you shake your head vehemently in protest.

You want no one but Megumi. Sadly, he doesn’t want you.

The hesitant knock on your door makes you startle up in bed. You panicky wipe the tears from your face and jump out of bed. Who could that be? Shoko didn’t want to see you once more today, Mr. Satoru has to go on an important mission. Is it Maki and Panda? The training is still going…

“Give me a second!”, you shout while hectically trying to make yourself look passable.

“It’s me, (y/n). Can I come in?”

Your heart skips a beat. Megumi? Why is he here? You don’t want him to see your puffy cheeks and bloodshot eyes.

“Y-yes”, you breathe out automatically.

There he stands, gaze facing the ground with his hands in the pockets of his tracksuit. He doesn’t look like he’s been working out today. Your mind begins to race. Why is he here? Did something happen? Please don’t let him bring up your previous conversation…

“About earlier…”, he mutters.

“Please don’t worry, I totally understand! No need to talk about it further!”, you quickly interrupt.

“(y/n) I-“

“You have such an important job, so it’s only logical that you don’t have time for such things-“

“(y/n), please let me-“

“I’d probably just be a burden to you! You deserve better anyway. With caring for my mother and because I work so much, I’m definitely quite a burden…I’m sorry fo-”

“(Y/N)!”

Your big eyes stare at him in shock at the sound of his loud voice. Finally, his gaze meets yours as he runs his fingers through his hair.

“Would you finally listen”, he mutters, face turning red.

“I’m sorry, go ahead”, you breathe out.

“I rejected you because I don’t think I’m good enough for you. You are so kind, tender, self-scarifying, funny, sweet, beautiful…I-I’m none of that. I’m here to tell you that you are more than a mission to me, you are the most beautiful girl I ever laid my eyes on, your character is made out of pure gold, I-…(y/n) I’m…I’m in love with you!”, he blurts out.

You can hardly believe your ears. Did he just say that he…loves you? You are truly too stunned to speak, eyes wide in shock as you stare at him in disbelief. Are you dreaming? Maybe you fell asleep after laying down. Can this really be true? Oh, how you would like that…

“Please say something, (y/n)”, he presses out, face now blood red.

Your lips refuse to part, it seems like the only thing you can let speak now are gestures. Without thinking twice you sprint forward and close the gap between the both of you. Your head rests on his chest as you wrap your arms around his torso and hug him like your life depends on it. God, he feels so good, his slightly sweet and pleasant scent caresses your nose just like last night. You wish you could stand here forever, him between your arms, forgetting everything around you. After his cruel words this afternoon, you thought you would ever experience this again.

“I’m so sorry for hurting you”, he whispers into your hair.

His one arm wraps itself around your shoulder while his other hand presses your head gently closer to his chest. You can feel his breath softly strokes your ear and sends a shiver down your spine.

“How could you ever think that you are not good enough for me? You’ve been my first thought in the morning and my last at night since you took me here. My luck in misfortune, the best thing that could have happened to me that evening. Megumi, I love you too”, it gushes out of you.

You slightly lift your head to catch a glimpse of his dark blue orbs. Oh, you could spend hours just staring into his striking eyes, it is so easy to get lost in his sight. Your hands lightly roam to his shoulders and wrap around his neck. His eyes meet yours and you catch your breath as he stares at your lips. Will he kiss you? Never in your life have you seriously thought about kissing a boy. But seeing him so unfocussed in front of you, his breath caught between his open mouth and his black hair clustered all over his face, it’s like you never wanted anything more in your life than to kiss Megumi Fushiguro.

“Can I kiss you?”, he breathes out, his face only inches away from your own.

You whole body shakes in excitement. This is the moment you’ve been waiting for.

“That would be nice…”

You close your eyes automatically when his lips finally brush against yours. So light, so sweet, so innocent. Your grip around his neck strengthens, pulling him even closer against your body. His hands linger around your back, gripping you tightly. As if in trance, you follow his cautious movements. God, it feels so good, way better than you expected.

He pulls his lips from yours, breathing heavily. You can’t help but smile like an idiot at his sight. He kissed you. Megumi kissed you!

“Thank you for apologizing”, you note and burry your face back in his chest.

Could you have better luck? Megumi seems to be everything you ever dreamed of and so much more.

“This is how I apologize as often as you want”, he speaks out softly.

“If so, maybe I need an apology again…”

Bonus

You sign as you look at your watch. Today’s work is so busy again that it is already past midnight when you enter the small apartment you live in. However, working overtime means that you can raise the money for your mother’s treatment more quickly.

“There you are my darling, I’ve been so worried”, your mother’s weak voice speaks out.

“Mother, I told you not to wait until I return. You should be in bed”, you gently reprimand her and pull her into a hug.

“Megumi was visiting here tonight and was waiting for you. I am assigned to give you this letter and ask you to open it yourself. I’m going to bed now, sleep tight sweetheart.”

“Good night mother”, you reply lost in thought.

A letter? You didn’t even know that your boyfriend would visit you today. You hesitantly open the letter and pull out a note.

Stop working so much, you are still not completely healthy. Maybe this helps. Love you.

Looking at the remaining content of the letter makes you nauseas.

Money. A lot of money. A whole heap of money. Your hands begin to tremble while your mind tries to process the fact that Megumi sent you money.

Maybe this helps.

Your eyes widen in shock, fingers tracing along the single bills. 1,2,3…

It’s enough.

With your savings and the money in the envelope you have enough money for your mother’s treatment.

Tears start to swell up your eyes, lips trembling as you desperately try to hold back a cry. How can you ever thank him enough?

I don’t know what to say. God, I love you so much. That means a lot to me. Thank you Megumi, I owe you my life!

You will definitely get the money back though

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