#so much of psychology was that though lol i just had to make up friends and answers

[k0kichiimagines]

i hate writing cvs and teachers r useless at help i love them and i appreciate it but "i have no skills to put on my cv what should i put" - "aww no everyone has skills just think of something"

[chelseeebe]

moth to a flame

18+. mdni. smut. king!steve x kinda alt fem!reader. mentions of alcohol and drugs throughout. no ud so steve never gets the opportunity to develop from his jackass high school self. both he and tommy are kinda mean to poor old reader but he makes up for it in the end i promise.

a/n: there's something about lil stevie at the moment.. i think it's because i neglected him for so long that now i'm overcompensating lol. more eddie is coming tho i swear<3 so in my head r is like alt though descriptions don't really go past anything vague.

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steve wasn’t really ever that choosy with his women. he didn’t have to be. 

they’d throw themselves at him, from the start of high school right through to college. by some grace of god, meaning his dad and his endless wallet, he’d made it into the university of chicago. 

partying his way through his studies with a plethora of women and friends who really only saw him as an open wallet. 

that’s where he’d met you. 

you weren’t a regular, that’s for sure. 

your hair dyed, clothes torn purposely and thick, dark rings of black around your eyes. 

he hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off of you all night. watching as you’d ducked outside just after midnight, deciding to follow you, muttering something about a cigarette to tommy without a second thought. 

he’d found you around the empty side of the house smoking and stuck his tongue down your throat. 

with permission, of course. 

he’d seen you in there with the guy with the long hair, steve recognised him as someone he bought weed off occasionally. “he your boyfriend?”

relief washing over him when you’d shook your head no, “i can’t get you a discount if that’s what you’re asking.”

his shoulder had bumped against the hard brick in an attempt to nonchalantly lean against it, “noo.. i was just hoping you were single.” 

your smile grows though steve didn’t pick up on the sarcastic twang about it until after, “is that right?” 

“you don’t believe me?” 

“hmm not really,” stubbing the cigarette out on the side of the house. 

“but you are single, right?” deploying that trademark harrington grin, ever unfailing in his entire career. 

“i am.” 

“so why don’t you wanna make out with me?” reverse psychology, another never faltering technique. 

your eyes had narrowed, “i didn’t say that,” he’d known he was in from then on out, putty in his hands just the way he’d hoped. 

and thus, birthed this. whatever this is. 

-

steve waits rather impatiently for the party to die down enough to sneak out of here and get you into the back of his bmw. he hadn’t drank, swerving tommy’s attempts at getting him to drink with some vague, mumbly excuse. 

your meetings weren’t exactly tasteful, usually entailing some dark corner of the town and the leather of his backseat. 

you don’t speak outside of this, maybe a quick glance if he ever saw you outside of the parties but never anything substantial. 

but you’d gotten wise to his signals, you were usually found outside with that long-haired boy smoking which meant he had also began to get wise. 

steve would drop a cup and glance quickly in your direction or he’d loudly say his goodbyes before slipping out of the door. earning a groan or a roll of the eyes from your friend. 

steve’s grateful though, because he knows you’ll only be a few minutes behind. shuffling down the street to his beemer. 

tonight, you’d taken longer than usual. sighing as you slid into the passenger seat, steve’s gaze immediately falling to your chest, hungry as ever. 

“what’s wrong?” he asks, putting the car into drive before anyone had the opportunity to catch you. 

you shake your head, buckling in as the car speeds off, “it’s nothing,” settling yourself in the seat. 

“didn’t sound like nothing,” he’s not sure why he’s prying so much, you didn’t owe him any explanation. 

“it’s just..” debating whether to divulge, “eddie feels the need to tell me how much he hates you, every single time. it’s boring, you know?” 

oh. 

steve wasn’t quite expecting that. 

sure, he wasn’t the most likeable person ever but hate? 

“right,” he nods, unsure of where to go from here, “well.. i’m sure if he knew me, he’d think differently,” though even steve doesn’t quite believe that himself.

you hum in response, staring out at the disappearing road ahead. 

the car pulls in to it’s usual saturday night spot, overlooking the city on some disused street. quiet and calm but not for long. 

it’s the same foolproof routine every single week, you’ll sit and talk for a minute until one or the other gets fed up and pulls the other into the backseat. 

this week it takes a little longer for either of you to crack. you’re still pissed off by whatever eddie had said and he was desperate to try and break through your hardened exterior. 

he didn’t want to be hated by anyone, let alone your friends. 

perhaps it was fear. scared of eddie revealing the truth about your little rendezvous’ or maybe he really did want to know more about you. he’d been inside of you more than he’d ever asked about your day. 

steve had once thought the only people that had tattoos were freaks and criminals, but he doesn’t suppose you’re either of the two. 

he loves the way they look on your skin, adorning your arms like they were there before you were born. 

“why’d you get that one?” pointing to the flower on your wrist. 

you tut, “d’you wanna talk about my tattoos or d’you wanna have sex?” becoming annoyed with his attempts to close the bridge between you. 

“why not both?” he didn’t know a thing about you besides your name and how hard you liked his palm against your ass. maybe you really were a freak. 

“because you don’t care, not really,” shrugging at him from the passenger seat, “you don’t have to pretend y’know?”

“i’m not pretending,” steve frowns, “i wanna know about your tattoos and i wanna have sex with you, is that crazy?” 

you chuckle, turning in your seat to face him, “a little, yeah. i don’t believe that steve harrington cares about my tattoos at all.” 

fuck, he wishes this was normal, that you were normal and he could just take you out like he would any other girl. 

he doesn’t have a reply, sighing quietly to himself instead. 

your hand reaches over, cupping his chin in your palm and gently tilting it upward til he meets your eye again, “so.. sex?” 

steve nods, blinking rapidly as you shift over into his lap. if you weren’t going to indulge him then the least he could do was give you what you wanted. 

you keep your hand firmly on his chin, locking your lips as your hips move forward, grinding against his jeans, his hands coming to meet your waist. 

frantic in the way he grabs at your skin, needing you closer than his car allowed. 

what had really shocked him most about you, was the fact that your nipples were pierced. he’d never seen it before, not in real life anyway. but now he couldn’t imagine ever having another boob in his mouth that didn’t taste slightly of metal. 

he claws at your shirt, yanking it higher for access to your chest, pulling your bra down enough to reveal your tit, palming at the flesh before locking his lips around the sensitive skin. 

your skirt ends up above your waist, his hands roaming the fleshy area, grinding down against his stiff cock with an insatiable hunger. rutting until you’re moaning into the cramped car, his tongue still swirling around your nipple. 

“c’mon,” instructing him breathlessly, “need you now stevie,” your hands firm on his shoulders, praying he won’t make you wait any longer. 

he nods, letting your breast fall from his lips, gripping your waist to allow himself the space to wiggle his jeans down enough, his boxers following closely. your eyes roll at the sight of his cock springing out, already glistening with pre-cum from your incessant rutting. 

you’re already raring to go, sodden panties held to the side as he lines his tip with your soaked entrance, gazing up at you with wondrous lust. 

“fuck,” whispering harshly when you lower yourself onto him, his fingers leaving heavy marks on your hips. 

you take a moment to adjust, biting down onto your lip as your eyes reopen, meeting his before you begin moving. slow at first, thick thighs enveloping his waist. he wants to gnaw on them, leave purple markings all along the doughy skin. 

steve knows he has a big cock, he’s not stupid. it had been a thing to marvel throughout high school, in locker rooms and after hooking up with whoever. everyone had known. 

it doesn’t seem to phase you, bouncing up and down as your skin slaps together. he’s always found it hot, that two bodies could make such a sexy sound but with you it’s better. 

“that’s it,” you whine, melodically breathing in time with your body bouncing. 

your hand creeps away from his shoulder, hanging loosely around his neck, too scared to place any real pressure until he nods enthusiastically, placing a harsh hand to your ass, a clear cut green flag. 

you practically growl in response, tightening your grip on his neck, the seats of his car squeak and groan underneath your bodies as the car rocks on the wheels. 

keeping one hand on your ass and the other now nestling between your thighs, fingers perched on your soft stomach as his thumb finds your clit. 

“oh fuck,” you whine, enthusiastically moving up and down, squeezing his neck just enough to make his eyes roll back. 

steve tightens his grip on your ass, losing grip of his throat to slam your palm against the foggy window when his hips thrust upward, moving with yours in perfect harmony. 

he wants to swallow you whole, entranced by the sheer pleasure on your face, eyelashes fluttering and your lips parted to allow your melodic mewls to flow freely. 

“oh honey,” he moans, slamming into your dripping cunt. an insatiable urge to stay inside of you forever, “fucking.. shit, you feel so fucking good,” eye contact intensely heavy, dripping in pure unadulterated lust. “d-do that again,” referring to your palm around his neck. 

“you like that? hmm?” leaving steve to hold you upright, enveloping his jugular with a comfortable squeeze. 

no one had ever touched him like that, nor had he ever thought to ask anyone to touch him like that. sex had been a mostly placid affair before he met you, a couple positions if he was feeling crazy but nothing compared to the lewd shit you got up to. 

he can’t speak, his balls slapping against your thighs in a maniacal rhythm, relishing the feel of your cunt dripping down his cock onto his boxers. 

the car is stuffy, suffocating almost. the fluidity of your two bodies moving against each other only makes it worse. your skin sticks to his, chest clammy and slick. steve loves it, the messiness, the sheer animalistic need for one another. 

he grunts into the air, weaving his fingers through your untamed hair, a palm flat to your cheek as he finds your lips in a fumbling haze. 

your fingers leave his neck to trail down his chest, clawing at his shirt, desperately rutting your hips as you chase your orgasm. it all becomes sloppy when you begin to pant into his mouth, barely able to keep up the rhythm. 

“oh god,” whimpering between his parted lips, “fuck,” your thighs begin to shake, trembling uncontrollably as steve continues to thrust upwards, unrelenting though he’s teetering over the edge himself. 

your lips graze against his chin, mewling loudly while you come undone. a trembling mess, relying on his arms to keep your body upright. 

he can’t take anymore, your cunt squeezing and clenching around him, driving him completely insane. there's no way in hell that he could ever possibly imagine having sex with anyone else for the rest of his measly life.

“are you cumming?” you ask, holding onto the back of his clammy neck with a panicked look in your eye. 

steve nods quickly, using the last of his energy to thrust upwards one final time, uncaring of the consequences. or quite honestly not even considering what cumming inside of you could mean.

his hips stutter, the back of his head hitting the headrest as he grunts and groans, filthy words filling the warm car. 

he’s still inside of you when you look down, only allowing him a short moment to gather himself before you frown, “steve,” using your finger to flick his ear. 

“shit,” the threat of a child dawns on him, realising how much he shouldn’t have done that, “i’ll pay for.. whatever you need, fuck- i’m sorry,” keeping a firm hand on your waist, pleading for forgiveness. 

if you could feel what he felt, he thinks you’d understand. 

“you’re so lucky i’m on birth control.. idiot,” climbing off of him to rest on his thighs instead, readjusting your underwear as his release threatens to leak out. 

steve clears his throat, a little embarrassed to have lost all self control over your pussy. he's never been overly enthusiastic about the thought of having children but for a split second there, he had truly contemplated how bad it could be.

clearing the awkward silence with a quiet chuckle, raising his chin to meet your gaze, "sorry."

your glossy lips pout, gaze scanning his face before you hum, "you're forgiven."

-

tommy had dragged him out despite it being a tuesday night, knowing full well he’d be skipping his 9am class tomorrow. he had been really trying to make more of an effort with school lately.

you'd made a passing comment, something you'd definitely have forgotten by now but steve hadn't quite been able to shake it.

your dad's money won't last forever, you know?

it wasn't incorrect by any means, he just hadn't expected the wake up call to come from you.

obviously tommy hadn't got the memo, egging him on to ditch the books to get plastered.

the bar is packed for a weekday evening although steve recognises no one, mostly older folk with a lot of tattoos, eyeing steve’s nervous exterior. 

“get me a beer, i need a piss,” tommy hollers into his ear before disappearing off to the bathroom. ever the charming gentleman. 

steve goes stiff, wondering if he’d seen a ghost. 

you’d materialised behind the bar, looking disinterested in whatever the man in front was jabbering about. 

why are you here? 

he’s never asked what you do for work, never felt the need to. though he wishes he’d asked now. there’s no chance he can collect himself enough to speak to you. 

what if you gave it all away? what if tommy saw? oh fuck. 

steve’s never had a panic attack before but he feels mighty close now. 

he wipes his palms indiscreetly down his jeans, attempting to slow his breathing before he reaches the bar. why did tommy have to be such a jackass? they could’ve been at home tonight. he wouldn’t be having a fucking heart attack if they were. 

the person before him clears off, leaving a space for him to quietly shuffle into. you turn around, eyes locking with his but only letting the corner of your mouth twitch a tiny inch. 

your tongue clicks against your teeth, “what can i get ya?” playing along just as he’d hoped. 

“two.. uh, two uhm, coors.. please,” dropping his gaze as he pleads with god to let the world swallow him up.  

clearing your throat before getting the bottles from the fridge, sliding them across the bar with a sigh, “didn’t think this would be your scene to be honest,” stifling your laugh as the other patrons eye his sweater and too-tight jeans. 

steve gets it. 

the bar was crawling with people with piercings, ripped clothes and an overall disdain for the status quo. 

tommy fit in, he was loud and sweary just as they were but steve, he stuck out like a sore thumb. 

“it’s not.. really, tommy said it was cool.. i dunno,” he hated the fumbling mess you made him, he couldn’t ever understand it. 

you stare back at the disaster you’d created, running your tongue along your top teeth before tapping the bar, “seven bucks, please,” palm outstretched beside him. 

he shoves a ten into your hand, “keep the change,” grabbing the bottles before elbowing his way back to tommy. 

“what the hell took you so long?” 

“there was a line, dumbass,” rolling his eyes, passing off one of the bottles to his friend. 

“don’t lie,” tommy’s elbow jabs steve harshly in the ribs, “i saw you talking to that girl,” steve freezes, terrified of what tommy might say next.  “she’s hot,” tommy leers, “y’know in like a freak sorta way,” laughing obnoxiously loud for such a small bar. “you at least get her number?”

he just glares back, unsure of whether tommy knows more than he’s letting on or just being his usual ignorant self. 

“i could fuck the freak outta’ her, trust me,” the drunk continues, only serving to anger steve further. he didn’t want anyone to speak about you like that, much less tommy fucking hagan. 

“don’t say shit like that,” steve scolds, like he’s some petulant child who needs punishment. 

“what? like you care,” blowing raspberries with his mouth, “c’mon, loads of weird broads in here i can help instead,” walking off into the crowd with a mission. 

he glances over at you smiling with some customer, his stomach churning with unfathomable jealousy. he had no right to feel that way, in fact, he probably deserved it.

-

tommy’s in one of his unbearable moods again, bouncing around the party, antagonising any and every one who even attempts to get him to stop. 

steve doesn’t really care, nervously eyeing the door, confused by your absence. you hadn’t told him you were coming, but then you also hadn’t told him that you weren’t coming. 

had he done something wrong? the last time you’d spoken was when he and tommy had crashed your shift, only muttering a few nervous words about beer. he’s pathetic. you’d made him pathetic. 

an arm latches around his shoulder harshly, almost knocking the drink from his hand, “stop watching the door, she’s not coming,” tommy slurs, laughing cruelly in his face. 

“what?” steve’s body tenses, trying to shake off the drunkard. 

“your little girlfriend,” clarifying exactly what steve had thought he was saying. tommy clocks steve’s gawping mouth, his heightened breaths, “what?” chuckling loudly, “you think i don’t know? everyone fucking knows dude, you can cut the shit.”

he wriggles free from his grasp, “the fuck are you talking about?” it’s not as if playing dumb would help him now but he’d at least give it a shot. 

“fuck off man,” tommy shoves him backwards, “that’s why you’re acting like a little pussy at the moment,” spitting in his face, belligerent and arrogant, “steve fucks the weird girl and now he pretends to give a fuck about feelings and shit,” drawing the attention of the entire party. 

if it really had been that obvious, they’d all already know about it anyway. 

“you’re an asshole, you know that right?” steve fumes, shoving tommy back into the counter before grabbing the container of vodka behind, walking off into the party with his head held high. 

people eye him as he goes, sure they all knew. they’d all heard what tommy was screaming about, hell, they’d probably seen the two of you sneaking about for months. 

why did he care so? why didn’t he care more? 

-

steve’s hopeless, completely and utterly tragic. 

deserting the party after an hour of his ‘friends’ dancing around him and girls completely dodging his advances. 

he didn’t want them, not really. he just needed to fill a you shaped hole. 

the only place his intoxicated brain can conjure up to go is your house. his feet carrying him out of the door and across the large campus without much thought to it. 

it’s only when he reaches the small row of houses that he realises where he is. looking up at the quaint house he’d dropped you off at tens of times. 

he can’t go in, can’t go back to the party either. 

stuck between a rock and a hard place because no matter what, he’d come off pretty badly. 

“what’re you doing?” a girl he’s never seen before speaks from the shadows, a certain look of disgust on her features. 

steve stops his aimless pacing, realising just how weird he looked. how could he ever begin to explain himself? 

the girl i have sex with sometimes lives here and i’m here because my best friend found out about it and i don’t really know how to feel about that. 

though he opts for something a little easier to digest, “i’m just.. walking.”

the girl narrows her eyes, “i know who you are, steve harrington,” full disgust in her voice, “i don’t know if she’s home,” putting her key into the door. 

of course. the roommate you’d mentioned. robin or something like that. he’s not sure why he hadn’t thought of it. 

“can you.. can you check?” relieved to not have been the one knocking on the door. 

“well duh,” she scowls, opening the door and disappearing into the hall. 

thankfully, she doesn’t reemerge. unsure of how much he could take tonight without bursting into tears. 

you do though, peeking out of the door with a small frown, opening the door wider when you see his frame lingering. 

“steve?” confusion echoing, “what the hell are you doing here?” 

“hey,” steve waves, watching his fingers wiggle and immediately regretting it. the realisation creeping in that he was lurking around your house like a complete weirdo. 

“you’re drunk,” you state plainly, opening the door wider to reveal your heart-adorned pyjama shorts and fuzzy slippers. 

his eyes fall immediately, still desperate to suffocate himself between your thighs. 

“yup,” hiccuping through the dark. 

you sigh, you do that a lot when you’re talking to him, “jesus christ.. come in,” ushering him inside. 

he stumbles through the door, hazy eyes looking at your house, the decorations that littered the place. 

it’s so.. you. 

different and spunky, a guitar leant against the couch, banners and posters and pictures of you and your friends beaming plaster the walls. he can’t help but think about how much his mother would detest it all. wouldn’t fit her cookie-cutter world view, neither would you, really. 

is that why he liked you?

some repressed act of defiance against his mother? 

no, no he really doesn’t think so. 

“okay,” your hand finds his back, “upstairs now,” flashing a look to robin that he can’t distinguish between confusion and maybe slight fear. 

steve lets you guide him, appreciating the gentle hand, only wishing it hadn’t taken half a quart of vodka to get him here into your room. 

he flops onto the bed with a sigh, still too intoxicated to feel any real shame yet though he’s sure it’ll inevitably sneak in at some point. 

“what’re you doing?” pity addling your voice as you come to sit on the bed, desperate to not let his eyes trail down to your legs. 

“i wanted to see you,” murmuring his words, “you didn’t come tonight.. i missed you,” letting the spirit speak for him. 

you stare at him for a second, figuring out how to approach his fragile state, “didn’t think you’d want me there after the bar.” 

“why wouldn’t i?” 

you scoff, “you couldn’t even look me in the eye,” reinvigorating that twinge of guilt in his chest, “you were terrified of tommy finding out you even knew me,” you must really pity him. letting him into your house after he’d acted like you simply didn’t exist just a few weeks ago. 

“tommy knows anyway.. none of it even mattered,” steve sighs, rubbing his temple as the headache kicks in. 

“i know, steve,” offering little remorse. your eyes roll back, sighing softly, “he came by the bar a few days ago, he was drunk, trying to.. it doesn’t matter. i know he knows, i don’t really care,” shrugging as if you couldn’t understand why he did. 

maybe rather selfishly steve had assumed that you were also somewhat ashamed of this arrangement. it hadn’t occurred to him that only he felt so pathetically guilty and oddly protective over your relationship. 

he wanted you to himself and at the same time wanted absolutely no one to know about it. 

“but i care,” it sounding even worse out loud than it did in his head. 

yet he means it. he just can’t really understand why. 

your eyes lower, shifting uncomfortably on your bed as your smile grows sadder, “you don’t want anyone to know that you fuck the freak, right?” a glum, melancholic tone to your words that makes his heart ache. 

“yes- no, i don’t really know,” shoulders slumping, giving up all hope of ever understanding the things he was feeling. 

your lips purse, the mattress dipping as you stand, unwilling to give any more energy to the conversation. “why don’t you sleep it off here?” still refusing to re-meet his eye, “i’ll take the couch, alright? you just.. get some sleep,” slinking off to the door before he can protest. 

“wai-,” but you’re gone.  

left on his own in your room. 

he can’t help but think that you should be here too, the first time he’d gathered enough courage to come to your house and he’d pissed you off that badly, you had to sleep on the couch. 

all he wants is for this to be normal. to take you out like he did the other girls, show you off to his friends and be proud of it too. 

steve wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want that, but he wanted to at least tell you.

screw tommy hagan and anyone else that had anything to say about it. 

he stumbles out of your bedroom, trying to remember which way to go to reach the steep stairs. god he hopes robin isn't down there with you. they'd interacted for no more than five minutes and yet he could already sense her general distaste for him.

the floorboards creak under his weight, dragging his uncoordinated feet down until he hits the floor with a thud, missing the last few steps completely.

your head pokes out of the closed door, with what he hopes is worry on your face. "what the fuck? are you okay?" rushing over to his crumpled body. this would all be highly entertaining if he weren't in the midst of an identity crisis.

"i'm good, i'm okay," clinging onto your arm. rather than standing to get to your level, he decides that dragging you down onto the floor with him is the best way to confess. ignoring your shrieks of complaint as you land harshly on his lap.

"what are you doing?" unable to hold back the maniacal cackle any longer.

"i'm trying to tell you something," steve mumbles, pressing his forehead against yours in hopes the words would somehow telepathically absorb through your skin.

they don't, obviously. because that's not how this works.

"i think that i," he hiccups,, sliding his hand down your arm to grasp your hand, "i think i really, really like you," stammering through his half-assed confession. on further thought, he probably should've waited until morning before deciding to unleash this unto you. "and i think that i've been an asshole to you," swallowing the gargantuan lump in his throat, "and i want to- only if you want to," earnestly gazing into your eyes, his thumb tracing your soft knuckle.

"want to what, steve?"

"i want to be with you, like.. dating or- or your boyfriend," hoping that now you’d understand his stammering, incoherent words.

your face displays something he can’t place, twisting the knife in his chest completely to only ease up when your lips twitch, “i think you’re drunk,” brushing off his confession.

steve wants to scream, he’d laid himself bare for you and while he probably didn’t deserve to call you his girlfriend, he also didn’t deserve to never get the chance to ask.

“i am,” admitting to his sins, “but i mean it,” nodding his head against yours, putting your hand to his chest, “i want it, i want you.”

your lips purse, he hates it when you do that. still unable to get through that mysterious shell you’re clinging onto, leaving him to try and guess what you’re thinking. most girls were fairly obvious in the way they treated steve. either fawning over him or they’d argue until he’d hate it and ghost them.

“even if everyone knows?” slowly opening up to the idea of you two. or at least he hopes so.

“especially if everyone knows.”

it’s a stark contrast from the embarrassingly nervous wreck he was at the bar, too terrified to even look you in the eye. he’d decided that it just wasn’t him. you deserved better and steve couldn’t stand to watch anyone other than himself give you that.

“..okay,” you blink, lashes brushing against his skin as they flutter, “but i’m gonna ask you again in the morning,” narrowing your eyes, ever the voice of caution.

steve just grins, morning couldn’t come soon enough if that was all it’d take to get you to believe him.

[astrosamara]

Astrology Observations #5

🩵Venus conjunct Pluto have relationships in their lives that are very personally transformative for them. Their past lovers can also become very obsessed with them or vice versa. There can be power struggles and imbalances in relationships as well.

🩵Moon opposite Mars are very quick and prone to anger when they're feeling personally targeted or if their feelings get hurt. They can struggle a lot with irritability and getting annoyed frequently.

🩵The house Neptune is in can show the area of your life you frequently fantasize about, but can struggle making those fantasies a reality. There's a sense of illusion here, something you can't quite grasp and bring into reality.

🩵On the other hand, you can have a very strong sense of realism in the house Saturn is in. You're more disciplined and strict with yourself in this area, and with patience and maturity, you bring in more practical and positive results into your life over time.

🩵I've met so many Mars in Taurus that are super laid back and go with the flow type of people, but can become very intimidating to be around when they show signs of anger. It also takes a lot to make them angry.

🩵When Uranus transits over one of your angles, profound and sudden life altering change happens. Unlike Saturn, who restricts what it touches, Uranus disrupts. The positive or negative quality of the change really depends on the rest of your chart and transits. For example, I've noticed many celebrities who've experienced fame when Uranus went over their MC.

🩵Positive Pluto and Mercury aspects have very deep and thoughtful minds. They can have a strong interest in psychology and they really enjoy deep conversations with others. They don't shy away from the darker aspects of life.

🩵Libra Suns are very adaptable in group dynamics, so much so that their individual personalities don't shine as much when around others. Their focus is more on being perceived as friendly and likeable. I've found it hard to really get to know Libra's.

🩵Aries Venuses are so bold when they have a crush on someone. They tend to want to move quickly and don't have time for games. They know what they want and they go after it. This energy can come on too strong for some people though.

🩵Taurus, Libra, and Pisces Venuses are people that really love love. Being in a relationship is something that's really important for them and they're very romantic people. Also, men with these placements tend to attract a lot of attention from women because they can sense this softer side of them.

🩵Every Taurus friend I had growing up went through a horse girl phase lol. They tend to just really love animals and feel a spiritual connection to them in general. Also some of the kindest and most generous friends I've had. They're so down to earth. I love Taurus' lol.

🩵People who have any of their big 3 in your 1st house are the ones who make a very strong first impression on you. There's just something about their presence you find memorable and compelling. My memories of first encounters with people who have their big 3 in my 1st house always stand out to me the most compared to other people.

🩵Sagittarius moons are great story tellers. There's something special and entertaining about the way they perceive their lives and the lives of others. Their optimistic attitude makes them so fun to be around. They make great teachers as well.

🩵Chiron in the 2nd house can have great fear surrounding their personal finances. They can also heavily tie their self worth into how much money they make. Either very frugal or overspending on things they don't need, they struggle to have a healthy relationship with money.

[aventurineswife]

A kinda specific and maybe long but fun idea i had for a req:

Essentially, {and bare w me, i’m half asleep writing this lol} Reader x Sunday, and Reader is a childhood friend of his, who he loved, and someday when they were older, Reader was tragically killed in an incident. Sunday however, in a grief stricken state, decides to rebel against his original goal for the sweetdream paradise (penacony arc reference) and decides to shape it into a dream instead where he’s happily married to Reader, although for the sake of the dream he’s altered their memories. ending is essentially up to you!

{some additional ideas i had if you wanted to, were things like an argument between gopher and sunday, or robin and sunday, in whichever points of the story you wanted}

alternatively, a different Aventurine version would be interesting, mostly w the same set up but Sunday met Reader during Aventurine’s mission on Penacony, liked them, and Aven has to basically fight off the dream and Sunday.

but yeah, that’s pretty much it, everything else is up for creative liberties! i hope this one is at least somewhat interesting lol xx and srry if some of it doesn’t make sense 😓🤍

“Sometimes, the hardest part of letting go is realizing that the dream was never real”

Summary: In the idyllic yet hollow world of Sweetdream Paradise, Sunday crafts a perfect life with you—his lost love, altered memories and all—to escape the sorrow of reality. But as others begin to break through his illusion, and you start to remember fragments of a different fate, the dream begins to fracture. Torn between love and the harshness of truth, Sunday must finally face the choice to let you go, or remain forever in his self-made paradise.

Tags: Sunday x Reader, unrequited love, grief, loss, dreamscape, bittersweet ending, altered memories, memory manipulation, moral dilemma, angst, hurt/comfort, alternate reality, surrealism, slow unraveling, denial of reality.

Warnings: Grief, themes of manipulation, psychological trauma, implied death of Reader, reality distortion, emotional conflict, bittersweet resolution, morally ambiguous decisions.

A/N: Don't worry, anon! I appreciate all the details, the more details the more I can try to understand what you want exactly! Though I probably changed some bits of it here 😪

Sunday had always been proud of his role within Penacony, the creator of Sweetdream Paradise—a place where sorrow could be stilled, where suffering dissolved into an endless realm of serene dreams. It was a comforting reality he believed people needed, a soft oblivion to cradle them. Yet, in the depths of his mind, his peaceful philosophy hid a darker purpose, shaped by the ache of a loss he could never endure.

You had been his friend, a constant light in his youth, a companion who grounded his dreams. For as long as he remembered, you were there, with laughter that melted his worries and eyes that could see through his layered philosophies. But the day you were lost, taken too soon in a tragic incident, the world itself had hollowed out for him. The pain of your absence haunted him like a shadow, feeding a grief so deep that he was willing to defy his original purpose. In that moment of desolation, he turned Sweetdream Paradise into something far more personal—a realm where you still lived, where you loved him just as much as he had loved you.

In this new dream, Sunday made alterations. He reshaped your memories, softened the sharp edges of reality, and wove a seamless history where you had married him, where together, you built a life free of tragedy. In this dream, he could protect you eternally, shielded by his crafted illusion.

You woke to sunlight filtering through the windows, lying beside Sunday as the golden morning glow danced over his features. His eyes opened, catching you with a familiar warmth, and he reached over, brushing his fingers across your cheek.

"Good morning." he murmured, voice low and rich, as if savoring the simplicity of that greeting.

Every day was like this—a gentle, perfect rhythm that never seemed to break. You didn’t remember a world outside of this home, this life with him. And as you looked at him, you felt safe, loved, yet there was always a faint unease, like a fragment of something forgotten.

But the days went on, filled with laughter and love. Sunday seemed devoted to making sure you never doubted this world, his every word a reassurance that here, you were whole and happy.

One evening, as Sunday worked quietly at his desk, a visitor shattered the peace of his dream. It was Robin, standing just inside the doorway, her expression dark with a kind of wary sadness.

“Brother, you need to stop this,” she said, folding her arms. Her gaze fixed on him, seeing through the veneer of the dream. “This isn’t right. This… this paradise you’re keeping isn’t reality.”

Sunday straightened, his face hardening at her words. “Who are we to deny people peace, Robin? Haven’t we seen enough pain? Haven’t they?” His voice broke slightly, the facade slipping as he glanced toward where you sat by the fire, unaware of the intensity in his voice. He softened, as if trying to protect the dream from any trace of discord.

“You’re keeping people trapped. Yourself included. And for what? A fantasy? Is that really what they would have wanted?” Robin’s voice grew more urgent, her frustration showing. “They’re gone. You have to accept that.”

Sunday’s fists clenched at her words, every fiber in his body resisting the truth. “How could you understand?” he whispered. “In this place, they’re alive. I’m not hurting anyone. I’m giving them peace. Doesn’t that count for something?”

Robin stared at him, her gaze a mix of pity and sorrow. “At what cost, Brother? You’re keeping yourself from moving on, holding them hostage in a world that isn’t even real.”

In an alternate version of Penacony, Sunday’s paradise faced an even stranger twist. Aventurine, the cunning Stoneheart known for his strategic mind, was on his own mission in Sweetdream Paradise, seeking information that only Sunday could provide. But as he delved into the fabric of this dreamscape, he found himself questioning the reality around him, the shimmering dream where Sunday lived an idyllic life with you.

Aventurine confronted Sunday one night, his tone half-amused, half-concerned. “Interesting setup you have here,” he remarked, eyes gleaming with curiosity as he took in the flawless surroundings. “I almost believed it myself… almost. But what happens when the dream can’t hold itself together anymore?”

Sunday’s gaze narrowed, his protective instincts flaring. “What do you mean by that?”

Aventurine shrugged, his gaze flicking to you, sitting quietly, oblivious to the tension. “Everyone in this place… it’s all too perfect, isn’t it? You’re clinging to a memory, one that doesn’t belong here.”

In a rare flash of anger, Sunday stepped forward, his eyes darkening. “This isn’t any of your concern, Aventurine. Leave.”

Aventurine met his glare, his smirk slipping. “You think you’re the only one who’s loved and lost? Reality has its flaws, Sunday. It’s messy, painful… but it’s real. This—this is just a prison you’re keeping yourself in.”

Sunday’s voice trembled, caught between anguish and fury. “Better a beautiful dream than a brutal reality.”

Aventurine’s gaze softened for a brief moment, though he couldn’t abandon his sardonic tone. “But at least in reality, they would have remembered you for who you are, not a god in a gilded cage.”

In the end, it was you—within the dream—who finally confronted him, feeling the intangible pull of memories you didn’t recognize. “Sunday… something doesn’t feel right,” you whispered one night, as he sat beside you. “I keep… remembering pieces of something different, something that feels like it wasn’t supposed to end this way.”

Sunday’s face grew pale, fear creeping into his eyes. “No, you don’t have to worry about that. You’re here. We’re together. Isn’t that enough?”

But as you searched his eyes, you could feel the truth breaking through, the dream trembling under the weight of reality. “Sunday, what are you not telling me?”

He looked away, his heart shattering as he realized he couldn’t keep you here forever. Slowly, he whispered, “I… I just wanted to keep you safe. To give us a life that didn’t end in sorrow.”

With a trembling hand, you reached out, brushing a tear from his cheek. “It’s okay to let go. You have to keep going… even if it means letting me go.”

Sunday’s shoulders shook, the dream beginning to unravel around them, pieces of the illusion fading as he looked into your eyes one last time. “I… I don’t know if I can.”

But in the final moments, he felt your hand slip away, leaving him alone in the vast silence of his own grief. And as he awoke from his dream, Sunday found himself in a world still plagued by loss, his heart hollow yet somehow freer. Though you were gone, he understood, at last, that he had to face reality, no matter how painful it was.

And in that pain, he found a fragile hope—a sliver of light breaking through the dark.

*cutely posts all my drafts that have been dying to see the light* 😇💖

[narryffdreaming]

A TOAST TO THE FUTURE — FIVE

Summary: Aurora and Harry used to be friends, but life happened and they grew apart. Now, 6 years later, they meet again.

Rating: +18

WARNINGS: The story contains explicit language and mentions a past abusive relationship (mostly the consequences of psychological/emotional abuse). Some chapters also contain explicit sexual content.

PART FIVE: 15,3k words. Author’s note: Hi! I'm so, so sorry it took me this long to update. I rewrote this part so many times it's embarrassing, and now that it's done I'm low-key freaking out that it will end up disappointing after such a long wait lol. Anyway, part 5 is here. I hope you're still around to read it and that you enjoy it :) only 3 more left now!

PART ONE || PART TWO || PART THREE || PART FOUR (I) || PART FOUR (II)

When Aurora wakes up, the room is dark, empty and unfamiliar. 

She bends her arms by the elbows and perks herself up, leaning on them to scan the space as best as she can — taking in the small window to her right, the faint reflection on the TV in front of her, and the dim light flickering under the bedroom door. 

Recollecting her memories feels like a process, and it isn’t until she hears the seabirds crying out and the waves crashing nearby that everything comes back to mind. 

She’s on a yacht.

In Italy. 

And all of her friends are there.

A smile grows on her lips as Aurora falls back into her pillow, and she closes her eyes just to recall the last moments of the day before—the way she kissed Harry on that floating mat, the way they walked back inside hand-in-hand, and the way they sneakily kissed again before pulling apart to join their friends. Like two rebellious teenagers who couldn’t get caught whilst living a forbidden love.

Except they weren’t teenagers, of course. Nor rebellious. 

And except what they had wasn’t love, much less forbidden.

And yet… 

Damn. 

Joy rushes through her chest, causing her to bring her hands to her face just so she can giggle to herself. 

Everything feels so silly, but also so exhilarating. The stolen glances during dinner. The unintentional and unstoppable smiles. How she kept listening to her friends even though she couldn’t stop thinking about him. Or how he ran after her when she left the group behind to go to bed, kissing her goodnight and taking her breath away one last time before she officially put an end to that eventful day.

A sigh leaves her mouth, and Aurora drops her arms to her sides. Kissing Harry had never been an option before, nor even a curious thought of her mind. And yet there was a certain level of desperation when it happened. A sense of fucking finally that ran through her veins as soon as their lips met, and that put her skin on fire every time he spread his hand open and squeezed his fingers around her. As if she’d been waiting for it her entire life, and not just less than a day. 

Isn’t that… Weird?

Aurora stares at the ceiling, aware that her emotions are too over the place for her to fall asleep again. 

What time is it, by the way?

And why is she still all by herself? 

Is Maddie still outside? 

Is everyone still outside? 

Is Harry still outside?

Full of energy, Aurora turns on her side and stretches her arm towards the bedside table, reaching for her phone and bringing it closer to her face. When she unlocks the screen, though, brightness strikes directly into her eyes, making her wince and quickly give up. She groans, then, forcing herself to sit on the bed and curling her legs closer while she rubs her eyelids. 

It only takes her a couple of seconds until she tries again, blinking and squinting as she lowers the brightness and Noah’s beaming face takes over the background. 

Aurora bites her lip and stares at the screen, admiring the picture she took just a few weeks ago during one of their walks around the park. A thumbs up on one hand and a pink flower on the other, a huge smile spreading from cheek to cheek and the sun warming up his entire face. 

He looks a lot like his father, there’s no way to deny that, but his kindness and sensitivity sets him far away from him—something she deep down is grateful for. 

It’s hard to believe that something so beautiful and innocent came up from such a complicated and unpredictable relationship. It’s hard to understand that the same man who treated her worse than anyone has ever treated her, is also the same man that gave her the biggest and most honest love she’s ever felt. And it’s hard to comprehend that even though she sometimes wishes she had never met Zack, she would actually never wish she hadn’t married him. Or had a kid with him. 

She brushes her thumb up and down the side of her phone, almost as if she could caress her son. She’s never spent this long without him, and she misses him. She truly does. Even if her latest thoughts have failed to show that. 

Heaviness sets deep into her belly, and her chest tightens up. 

Shit.

What the hell is she doing?

A make-out session with an old friend wasn’t on the schedule. It isn’t even something she ever imagined it would happen. She just… Went with it. She listened to her friends, she had a couple drinks, and she let whatever she was feeling back then take full control of her actions. 

She put a pause on her doubts and, for a moment — for how long that moment lasted — she didn’t think about the consequences. She didn’t think about tomorrow. She didn’t think about next Monday. She didn’t think about her son, who was spending the first weekend away from her. And she didn’t think about her ex-husband, who was taking care of their child while she took a weekend off on a luxury yacht in the Amalfi Coast. 

She didn’t think about anyone, or anything. 

She didn’t question. She didn’t wonder. She didn’t overthink. 

Just like everyone said she should do.

Just like her friends told her she should do.

Friends who don’t have kids yet. Friends who don’t have ex-husbands yet. Friends who haven’t failed in life yet. Friends who don’t wonder who they are, or why everything crumbled down around them. Friends who aren’t worried about how they’re going to make it by themselves from now on, or how they’re going to find new dreams for a future that’s nowhere to be seen. 

A toilet flushes somewhere, and Aurora jolts. She drops her phone on her lap and looks up, listening to the heavy steps that seem to get closer and louder each time, as if crossing the same floor she’s in and walking directly to her room. 

Through the tiny gap under her door, she sees sounds turn into shadows, and then she hears the mumbling. The soft laughing and the shushing, until everything goes quiet and the handle finally moves. 

Light from the hallway cracks in while Maddie walks in, carefully and slowly. It’s only a tiny bit, but it hits directly on Aurora’s face, making her raise one hand and cover her eyes. 

“Oh,” Maddie whispers, stopping on her tracks. “Sorry. Was trying not to wake you.” 

“‘s okay.” 

Aurora clears her throat, getting rid of the sudden dryness and soreness. 

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes. Why?” 

“I don’t know… Why are you sitting in the dark all by yourself?”

“Oh.” Keeping her chin down and one hand up to block the brightness from her face, Aurora shrugs. “Nothing.” 

“Right…” Maddie says, dragging each letter a little longer than she normally would. 

With a roll of her eyes, Aurora shifts on the bed and drops her body to lay back on the mattress. 

“I just woke up, Maddie. Don’t be annoying.” 

Maddie laughs and steps inside, letting the light from outside guide her whilst she walks towards the wardrobe and rummages through her clothes. 

Aurora takes the opportunity to place her phone back on the nightstand and get comfortable under the covers.

“Have you been awake all this time?” Maddie asks. “We thought you were sleeping.”

“I just said I just woke up.” Aurora turns on her side and smashes her hands between her cheek and the pillow, catching the moment her friend freezes for a second while pulling her dress over her head.

“Okay?” Maddie murmurs, fully removing the item and throwing it into the wardrobe. “My bad. Did we wake you or something?”

Aurora sighs. She watches as Maddie puts a t-shirt and some shorts on, but she’s not really paying any attention to her movements. Her mind is foggy, thinking about how caught up in the whole kissing thing situation she was that she didn’t lose sleep over Zack never returning her texts. Or that her mind wasn’t flooded by Noah’s thoughts until she saw a picture of him. 

“Hey,” Maddie calls, and Aurora blinks. She’s already facing the bed, hands loose by her sides while a frown takes over her expression. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She shakes her head and looks away, settling her sight on the darkness out the window. “Sorry. ‘M just tired.”

“You sure?”

No. 

“Mhm.” She closes her eyes and nods. “Just need to fall asleep again.” 

“Okay… Goodnight, then.”

“Goodnight, Mads.” 

Aurora hears the soft click when her best friend shuts the door, and also her light steps as she walks around the room. She then feels the moment Maddie pulls the blanket from her side of the bed, and also when she gets under the covers and makes herself comfortable with a sigh. 

There’s a beat of silence, in which Aurora shuffles and turns her body around to face the wall. Maddie moves as well, and it’s easy to tell they’re both laying back to back now. Aurora feels it. 

She also somehow feels the water outside. The darkness. The birds flying above and around. She feels when her best friend drifts into unconsciousness, when her breathing changes, and when her body gets heavier on the mattress. She feels time going by, although she can’t tell if it’s only seconds or also minutes that are flying past her.

“Do you know what you want?” Harry’s voice echoes inside her brain, and images of them laying on that mat take over the darkness in front of her. His pinky around hers, the way he looks at her, his skin underneath her foot when she moves it up and down. “I think about this a lot, y'know? About you.” His confession puts a smile on her face, and it makes her heart skip a couple beats. She wants to kiss him, and she knows he wants to kiss her, too. So she waits for it to happen. And she waits for him to do it. And she waits. And she waits. 

Why isn’t he trying to kiss her? 

What is he waiting for? 

Something is off, and she isn’t so sure anymore. 

Was she wrong all along? 

“I want you to make a move,” her voice pathetically begs while Harry laughs, and Aurora’s body jolts in bed. Eyes flying open while her muscles tense up and relax all at once.

I want you to make a move. 

Is that what she actually said to him?

Her heart beats heavily, and her belly stirs uncomfortably. She wiggles her feet and rearranges her arms and legs, adjusting her sight until the empty wall becomes clear in front of her. 

When she shifts her eyes around, she notices there’s no brightness under the door anymore, meaning all lights are off and everyone finally went to bed. And that she missed when it happened. 

“I want you to make a move,” flashes again inside her mind, and blood rushes through her cheeks. 

Shaking her head, Aurora grinds her teeth and stretches her arm, reaching for her phone one more time. 

The concept of time feels even fuzzier now, so she doesn’t distract herself like she did before — Noah smiles at her, she misses him, and it’s 4:15.

Aurora sighs. Without too much thinking, determination guides her body off from bed, blindly searches for her flip flops, and takes her straight to the door. 

Upstairs, everything’s quiet. 

Quiet, empty, and dull. 

It isn’t pitch black, though, allowing Aurora to confidently move from one common area to the other as she makes her way to the kitchen. 

All she wants is a glass of water, but she knows the galley is considered exclusive for the crew, so a quick apology and explanation rests on the tip of her tongue as she slides the door open as discreetly as she can. Just in case.

Once inside, dim lights cover one side of the ceiling, turning the painfully white kitchen into washed-out yellow. She shuts the brown sliding door again and crosses the small passage-way, walking past the freezers and fridges, then around the island counter. 

She follows her instincts while rummaging for a glass, half-smiling to herself when she finds one and then placing it on the counter so she can look for a bottle of water next. 

Back around the unbelievably clean island, the French door refrigerators are just as fancy as everything else in that yacht. Aurora takes a moment to gawk at the perfectly organized shelves inside, but it only lasts a second or two until coldness crawls through her hands and arms. 

It ends up being an awful reminder of how little she’s wearing right now, and that she should hurry out of there before the crew shows up for breakfast. So she grabs the labeled bottle of water and closes the fridge, then steps towards her glass and watches as she fills it up to the top. 

“I want you to make a move,” her mind repeats for the tenth time, and Aurora sighs. 

It’s hard to tell why those words are bothering so much, or why they’re hunting her in the first place. She was happy when she woke up, so why can’t she get rid of the uneasiness that’s settling in her chest? 

Shaking her head, she places the bottle back on the counter a little harsher than she should, wincing when the sound echoes between the walls. She brings the glass to her lips, then, drinking her water whilst looking out through the window and indulging her messy thoughts.  

Because kissing Harry felt right in the moment, it felt right when he chased her down the stairs for a quick goodbye, and it felt right when she snuggled her cheek against her pillow. And yet, the more she thinks about it now, the more she’s questioning the whole thing. As if there was something off about it. As if her perceptions and memories from that moment weren’t safe enough to trust.

Despite the turmoil inside her brain, the galley is so peaceful that the moment a door slides open everything seems to tremble around her. 

And Aurora jumps.  

And gasps. 

She places the half empty glass on the counter and turns around, one hand on her chest whilst she gapes at the passage-way with widened eyes and parted lips.

Her entire body system stops while she waits, and then Harry walks into view, looks at her, and freezes on the spot.

“Heyyy,” he slowly and huskily drags out, his entire face lighting up as he takes one hand up to rub his eye. “You’re up.”

“Jesus.” Aurora closes her eyes and places one hand spread open on the counter, leaning her weight on it while she exhales heavily through her mouth. Underneath her other palm, the one that’s still on her chest, she feels her heart come back to life. Twice as fast. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“Oops.” He laughs, shortly and calmly. “Sorry, love.”

Rough and raspy, the sounds echo from the back of his throat and speak directly to her brain, sending a shiver all the way down her spine and waking up all the butterflies. 

She’s never heard his morning voice before. Not like that, at least. Not when it acts like a magnet and pops her eyes back open, then draws all of her attention straight to him. 

“Damn, I’m knackered,” he says, stretching his arms over his head and then yawning loudly. 

Aurora silently watches him. 

Unlike her, Harry’s clearly barely awake, his puffy cheeks and chaotic hair inevitably giving him away. 

Also unlike her, Harry’s properly covered from neck to toe, a black sweatshirt and some black sweatpants making him look the coziest she’s ever seen. 

The idea of wrapping herself inside his arms isn’t subtle when it crosses her mind, even leaving behind a vivid picture of what the embrace could look like before Aurora kicks it out the door.

“That was probably one of the worst sleeps of my life,” he adds next, dropping his arms down and slightly shaking his head. When he flutters his eyelashes to glance at her, a soft smirk grows on his lips, and he tilts his head to the side. “Auri?” 

“Hm?” 

“You okay?”

She blinks and nods. 

“Yes. Sorry.” Stepping away from the counter, she waves her hands up and down to remove the tension away from her. “You were saying?” 

Harry chuckles and steps forward, then makes his way around the island and closer to her. “What’s on your mind? Why are you looking at me like—” 

He freezes on the spot once again, however now with his eyes wide open and stuck on her silhouette.

Aurora doesn’t need to look down to figure out what he’s staring at. She feels the burn on her chest, and then on her thighs. She also feels his green irises wandering attentively, moving in such a bold and straightforward way that it would be impossible for her to doubt he’s checking her out.

“Harry…” she calls him out, but she also chuckles, sounding just as nervous as she feels. “You were saying what, exactly, about me looking at you?” 

“Uh, sorry.” He shuts his eyes and clears his throat, then firmly shakes his head side to side. As if getting rid of his thoughts. “Shit. Yeah. Sorry. That’s… Yeah. My bad. Sorry.”

Aurora laughs again, turns to her glass of water and shrugs. 

“‘S fine,” she says, bringing the cup to her lips and drinking what’s left in it. To be honest, she knows her navy silk pajamas expose all of her cleavage and just barely cover her legs, so it’s not really a surprise that her tiny outfit didn’t go unnoticed by him. 

Besides, she isn’t exactly bothered by it. It’s nice to see she can still get such a genuine reaction out of someone—it’s been a long time since anyone has made her feel wanted and desired. 

And probably just as long since she’s felt confident enough to believe she could be wanted and desired. 

“Where did you get that glass?” Harry asks, suddenly closer. Too much closer. “Need some water, too.” 

She puts the glass down and turns her head to the side, glancing at him over her shoulder. “Want this one?” 

“Yeah, can be.” He nods. “If you’re done with it.” 

She shrugs one shoulder and focuses back on the bottle of water, refilling the cup for him. 

Their whole interaction it’s too formal. Kind of mechanical. And weird. Aurora can’t decide if there’s too much going on, if there’s absolutely nothing going on, or if what’s going on should be enough. 

“There you go.” She turns slightly to the side and stretches her arm, offering him the cold drink. Before he can grab it, though, she pulls it back to her chest and frowns. “Actually, I put my mouth here, so maybe you just wanted a clean one? In that case they—”

“I’ll take this one, thanks.” Harry laughs, getting close enough to grab the glass from her hand. “You put your mouth on my mouth, too, anyway.”

Aurora gasps, but her lips curve into a smile and laughter quickly buzzes out of her chest. “Harry!” 

Harry laughs, too.

“Just saying! In case you forgot about it.” 

She rolls her eyes, the playful tone in her voice matching her wrinkled eyes and the big smile on her face. “What a smooth way to remind me, then.” 

“Trust me,” he says with a shrug, then looks at the glass in his hand and smirks, almost as if sharing an inside joke with himself, “it could’ve been worse.” 

Out of words, Aurora leans her hip against the counter and crosses her arms, watching him tilt his head back and drink the water down. 

The glass almost disappears behind his fingers, and the scruff on his neck looks just as messy as his curly hair. Underneath, his throat moves heavily, the muscles popping out with each gulp and his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

Aurora drifts her eyes to the fridges, noticing a new and erratic beat inside her chest. It’s not like she forgot how attracted to him she felt last night, or even during the day, but she definitely didn’t know this is how she’d feel when she saw him again. How easy it would be for her to want him again. How quickly she would crave for more of what they had. 

I want you to make a move. 

She bites her bottom lip and looks down, closing her hand onto a fist only to entertain her brain with something else. Something that doesn’t involve self embarrassment and silly thoughts. 

“Hey,” Harry calls, followed by the clicking of the glass against the countertop. “Are you going back to bed now?”

Aurora shrugs, then tilts her chin up to meet his stare once again. “I mean, I was planning to, but…” 

He curves his lips up, a genuine smile quickly growing on him. 

“Same,” he says. And then, “Can I show you something, then?”

“Yeah. Of course.”

“Ok, great. I just need a minute to wash my face and all that, yeah? I’ll be back tho. I promise. Wait for me?”

“Sure.” 

“Promise?”

“Promise,” she chuckles. 

“Ok. Yeah. Thanks. One minute, I swear.”

“Okay,” Aurora laughs. 

And Harry nods. And turns around, and glances at her over his shoulder, and nods again. Ok, he murmurs. One minute.

And then he walks away.

“One minute!” he whisper-yells, right before he disappears through the door. 

It takes him way longer than a minute to come back — of course it does — but Aurora doesn’t mind the wait. She doesn’t want to be caught hanging in the galley by any crew members, though, so she takes it as an opportunity to step into the living-dining room area and snoop around a little. 

There’s not much to do, but at least she distracts her mind with minor thoughts, like the fact that all lights are off and all windows are closed, or that everything’s so quiet that she can hear the waves crashing against the hull. Or Harry’s feet when he climbs up the steps. 

She goes back through the door, then, meeting him halfway and saving him an unneeded walk to the kitchen.

“Hey,” he whispers and smiles. “Thanks for waiting.”

“Of course,” she whispers back.

He’s short-winded, as if he ran to get there, but he also looks refreshed and determined, stretching his arm and offering his hand for her to hold. 

“C’mon then,” he adds in another whisper, “let’s go upstairs.”

As she links fingers with him and follows him outside, she mentally notices a pillow under his armpit and a blanket on his other hand. For some reason, the simple gesture brings a smile to her face, but she’s good at looking the other way and keeping it to herself.  

He guides them kind of calmly, then, but also slightly rushed. He is polite enough to say ladies first and let her walk up the stairs in front of him, but then also cheeky enough to stay behind and unashamedly watch her as she moves all by herself. 

The thing is, though, that Aurora only catches him when she’s already a few steps ahead and absently glances over her shoulder. He’s practically drooling and doesn’t even notice she’s looking at him, which only makes the whole thing worse — or maybe better. 

“Harry!” She mouths with a gasp, mindful of being quiet and not waking anyone up, but also unable to stop her laughter from coming out of her mouth. “Stop staring!” 

He blinks a couple times and shakes his head, then immediately climbs two steps at a time. 

“Oops,” he says under his breath, catching up with her and smirking sheepishly. 

He seems the least regretful or ashamed for his actions, but she’s not exactly bothered by it, so she doesn’t hide the smile from him. Or how amused she is. She simply rolls her eyes and chuckles a bit more, facing forward and going up the rest of the way.

She only stops again when they finally get to the sun deck, knowing it’s the highest part of the yacht and therefore they can’t really go more ‘upstairs’ than that. 

There are no walls or roof shielding them from the weather, so she’s instantly met by a breeze from all sides, causing her body to tense up and forcing her to take her hands up to hold her hair away from her face. Still, Aurora takes a deep breath in and bites her lip, filling her lungs with ocean air and her ears with crashing and loud waves. 

That deck looks just as dark as all the others — if not even more. And yet, somehow, it also feels the brightest she’s seen since she woke up. 

Most lights are completely off, except for the required ones, but half of the moon is up in the sky, casting the way. It allows her to see the shadows of the table and chairs where they spent half of the day before (the only covered area), and far behind, on the opposite side, the barstools with perfect view to the back of the boat.  

“Was talking to Niall about this place last night,” Harry says, stopping so close behind her that she can feel the warmth of his clothes. He keeps his voice as quiet and soft as before, matching the delicacy in which he places his free hand on her bicep as he speaks again. “Told him he should bring Megan up here to watch the stars.” 

Aurora pulls her lips into a thin-smile and nods, still needing another minute to assess the space. 

Harry doesn’t seem to mind her silence, nor her astonishment, simply shortening the distance and pressing his chest to her back while respecting her needed time. 

That is, for a moment or two, until she shivers. 

“Ok,” he chuckles with a squeeze of her arm, then slides his palm down and easily finds his way to her hand, “let’s move now.” 

He walks past her, using their intertwined fingers to guide them as he steps to their right, across from where she’s been staring at. 

Next to the stairs, it’s the jacuzzi — the same one she saw the day before and freaked out about. She remembers seeing it, but she definitely doesn’t remember noticing there was also a large, wide sunbed right behind it.

Which there is, obviously, since it’s the only thing she can see once they walk around the hot tub.

“I brought you a blanket,” Harry says, “but if you want I can get you a jacket. Or you can wear my hoodie… I don’t mind. I mean, I wore this to sleep and I’m not wearing anything underneath, so I don’t know how you’d feel about that.” 

He chuckles, but Aurora is only paying half-attention to what he says. She’s distracted by how huge the white leather cushions are, how they seem to sparkle under the moonlight, and how much space they take. They’re presented as three sets, as if individual loungers were put together, but in reality it ends up being one big and comfortable daybed. 

“We can also go back inside if you want,” Harry speaks again, however this time the louder tone of his voice brings her to look back at him. “I’m not—I don’t want you to feel cold, so that’s totally—”  

“It looks great,” Aurora offers, squeezing her fingers around his hold. “That’s why I’m speechless, actually.” 

Harry brushes his thumb on the back of her hand and smiles, not even once removing the stare from her eyes as he speaks again. “In that case… How do you feel about watching the sunrise from up here?”

Excitement bubbles from her belly to her chest, and to her throat. Suddenly, it’s written all over her face—in her smile, her widened eyes, and her parted lips.

“Oh my God, yes! I’d love that!”

“Yeah?” Harry mimics her reaction, taking their hands to his mouth and kissing her knuckles. “Let’s get you warm then. C’mon.” 

Aurora blinks and nods, murmuring a soft “okay” even though he’s already dropped her hand and turned away from her. She watches him place one knee on the edge of the sunbed, drop the pillow and the blanket, then quickly crawl to the middle cushion and take a seat. 

“Ok,” he murmurs, taking off his worn-out shoes and tossing them next to her. “Almost there…” 

She smiles to herself, entertained by how endearing he looks. By how endearing he is. How he scooches backwards to make sure he’s sitting fully against the backrest, how he coughs into his fist as he puts the pillow behind his shoulders, and how he spreads his legs open and bends them by the knees before finally looking at her again. 

“C’mon now,” he murmurs, patting his hand on the spot between his thighs. “Sit with me.”

For a moment, and for as short as that moment is, Aurora considers playing hard to get. She considers making a joke about his demanding tone, or even about how acquainted with the whole scene he seems to be. 

And yet when she thinks about it again, she can’t find a single reason why she would do that. She’s too tired to pretend she doesn’t care, doesn’t want, or doesn’t mind — if Harry’s offering, and if she’s feeling it, then wouldn’t she? 

So in the end, she simply sits down and takes off her flip flops, then skitters backwards with the help of her own hands. Legs stretched out in front of her while she pushes and pushes herself. 

Harry meets her halfway, his hands finding her waist and guiding her until her back touches his chest. 

“There we go,” he says, pulling the blanket and throwing it over their bodies. 

And just like that, easy like that, they’re molding and curling around each other. 

Harry makes sure their legs are properly covered, then leans on his pillow and waits for her to drop her weight on him. When she does it, and as she crosses her arms on her stomach and waits for Harry to do the same—as she waits for him to hug her and hold her close against him—he busies himself pulling the rest of the fabric up to her shoulders.  And then he sighs, wraps his arms around her midsection, and nuzzles into her neck. Humming while his curls tickle her skin. 

His body relaxes underneath her, and she finds herself mimicking him. Letting all the air out of her body, loosening up all of her muscles, and going numb against his chest.

Comfortable. Warm. Satisfied.

Relieved.

In front of her, under the handrail, the glass is so transparent that it’s almost nonexistent. Darkness is out there, all around them, but not to the point where she can’t distinguish the horizon. The moon, even though distant to her right, works everywhere, highlighting a few clouds and also reflecting its beauty on the water. 

To that same direction, it appears to be nothing but ocean, and as far as she can see the same goes to what’s in front of her. 

On the other hand, above her, wherever she looks, stars are still easy to spot, and to her left the coastline is all lightened up. Blurry, small, and far away, but shining gold still. A reminder of where they are, but also a reminder that, despite how it might feel, they are not alone right now. 

The whole experience brings a weird feeling to her chest. 

The view, Harry’s presence, the sounds coming from the water… 

It is just… Weird. Somehow also scary, but mostly — and oddly — comforting and peaceful. Hopeful. It makes it easy to forget about the world that’s waiting for her, about all the problems and all the pain. It makes it easier to pretend she doesn’t have to go back to London and keep looking for a job, or that she doesn’t need to worry about paying her own bills. 

It makes it easier to pretend she isn’t trying to start a new life. A new life with Noah, but also a new life completely by herself. A life of her own. A life where Zack is only there because he’s the father of her son, and not because she can’t make it without his help. 

In the end, it makes it easier to believe that she’ll get through it. That things will get better. And that she will be okay. 

Which, truth be told, is the scariest feeling she’s ever had in life.

And the hardest to embrace. 

“I wonder which one is Saturn,” Harry murmurs, bringing her out of her inner thoughts. “Or what constellations we’re seeing right now.”

She licks her lips and drifts her eyes above them, then to their sides. 

The way she scans the sky is more attentive this time, not randomly taking in whatever’s out there, but focusing on finding specific information just for him. 

The easiest to spot are always Saturn and Venus, but since only one of those can be found right now, she doesn’t think twice before resting her chin on her own shoulder and pulling one arm out from under the blanket. 

“See the moon?” she asks, raising her finger to the sky and pointing to the three-quarter-white-circle that shines distantly on the horizon. 

Harry turns his head, too, then presses his lips on her hair and murmurs, “Yeah?”

“Well, that brightest spot next to the moon is Saturn.” 

“Shit. Really?”

“Mhmm…” She lowers her arm, but doesn’t bother hiding it under the blanket. “The Aquarius and Capricorn constellations are there, too, but we can’t properly see them right now.”

“That’s so cool…” he mumbles, seemingly too distracted by the new information he received. “What else? Do you know any other?” 

She faces forward, feeling Harry follow her lead and remove his lips from her hair, then rest his cheek on the side of her head. 

“Okay,” she says, once again lifting her arm and pointing it to the sky. “See that red spot around here?”

“Mhm.”

“That’s Mars.”  

“Shut up!” He tightens his arms around her, and a soft chuckle leaves his chest.

Aurora chuckles, too, then moves her arm an inch down and to the side. 

“And see this other star shining next to it?” she asks. 

“The brightest one?”

“Yeah… That’s actually Jupiter.” 

“Damn…” 

“And I know the Pisces constellation is somewhere around there,” she says, pointing up and down next to the two spots she just referred to. “But most of the time I can’t tell exactly where… Then… Hmm… Well, I think that’s it. That’s all I— No! Wait. Actually, lemme just…”

She turns her head from one side to the other, and when she knows she’s looking at the wrong place, she leans forward and twists her upper body, trying to see behind them, too. 

“Nuh-uh,” Harry groans, pulling her back to his chest. “No leaving.”

She crashes against him with a smile, settling into her spot and letting him cover her body again. Including both of her arms.

“But I can’t spot the bears from here… I think they’re back there…” 

“The bears?”

“Yeah, y’know, Ursa Minor and Ursa Major.” 

“I actually don’t know about those.” He chuckles. “And I also had no idea you knew about any of this.” 

Aurora rolls her eyes, but her lips curl into a smile anyway. She cozies up against his chest, settling her arms on top of his and tilting her head slightly to the side. 

“It’s not a big deal.” She shrugs. “I’ve just shown you, like, three planets. That’s nothing.”

“Ok, then show me more.”

“I don’t know any others.” She laughs, and from the corner of her eyes she can tell he’s smiling along with her. “I mean, there are a few that we can only spot during winter, and others that we can’t spot now unless we walk to the other side.”

“Hmmm… Well, I really don’t wanna move from here, so I’m happy with the ones I’ve learned.”

“Okay…”

“Unless you want to move, then we move.”

She wriggles her bum to scooch down a little and sighs, settling even more onto him. “Nah, I’m good.”

“Then we’re good.”

He places his chin on the top of her head, and Aurora faces forward with a smile on her face. Reconnecting with the ocean view and also with the sounds she apparently tunes off whenever they start talking. 

Silence. Quietness. 

Comfort. 

“Y’know,” Harry eventually says, “now I’ll always think of you when I look at the stars.”

A beat of silence goes by, and then…

She laughs.

“Oh my God…” She stretches her spine and throws her head back, landing on his shoulder. “You’re sooo cheesy.”

“I know.” He tightens his arms around her waist, playfully squeezing her while turning his head to press his nose on her neck. “I am. And I don’t care.”

She shakes her head, still smiling and staring at the sky. 

It’s like she can hear the happiness in his voice, and it blows her mind how easy he makes it seem. Or how contagious he is. 

“Wanna know something else?” he asks.

“Hm?” Tilting her chin to the side, she rests the side of her face on his temple and closes her eyes. Focusing on the way he warms her skin as he stays hidden on her neck. 

“I don’t think I’ve smiled this much in a really long time.”

“Really?” She raises her eyebrows, her lips never coming down from the upward curve they previously formed. “Well, a yacht on the Amalfi Coast can do that to you.” 

“Actually… You are doing this to me.” 

Silence settles around them. A heavy silence, but not an uncomfortable one. It gives time for his words to linger between them. Making her stomach flutter and her mouth break into this big and genuine smile. 

“Damn.” She chuckles, closing her eyes and shaking her head. 

“What?” he asks, lifting his face from her neck and kissing her cheek. Quick. Loud. And full of joy. “Gonna make fun of me again?”

She opens her eyes and lifts her head from his shoulder, holding onto his forearms as she turns to look at him.

“No, c’mon… ‘M not making fun of you,” she says, because she feels the need to explain. However… The playful smirk on his face indicates she doesn’t need to. He’s not mad. He’s not disappointed. He’s just teasing her back. Because he knows. He knows her, he gets her. And so, she sighs. “Okay, maybe I am a little…” 

Harry laughs, his lips touching his dimples as he throws his head back and then looks at her again. 

“But only,” she adds, a little bit louder so the smile on her own face doesn’t get in the way of her words, “because I think it’s really sweet and I don’t know how to react.”

“Hmm… C’mere,” he says, pulling her back into his chest and pressing his lips on her bare shoulder. 

It’s a gentle kiss. Sweet, but calculated. Not too long, but also not too short. Just wet enough to linger on her skin when he pulls away, but also quickly to forget when it’s followed by another one, slightly to the side, and another one, even further to his right. 

“You don’t—”

“Do you—”

They both speak at the same time, and they both also freeze at the same time, turning silence into giggles just a moment later. 

“Sorry,” she says. “You were saying?”

“Nothing important. You go.”

“My thing wasn’t important either.”

“Wanna hear it anyway.”

“But—”

“Say it.”

“Ugh.” She rolls her eyes and chuckles. “Fine. I was just about to ask if you want me to show you where Venus is.”

“Venus?”

“Yeah, the planet.”

“Oh, right,” he says, breathing hotly into her skin before he kisses her one last time and rests his chin on her shoulder. “Of course. Show me, please.”

“Okay, so… Remember Jupiter and Mars?” she stretches her arm in front of them, pointing to the sky. “They’re higher now, right? So if you look closer to the horizon,” — she lowers her arm, trying her best to give short and objective explanations — “you can spot another bright star.”

“Mhmm… And that’s Venus?”

“Yep.” She nods, then drops her arm and grabs the blanket, covering herself from the early morning breeze. “That’s Venus.”

“Amazing. And she’s just showing up now? When it’s about to be over?”

“Yeah…” Aurora smiles. “I always associate Venus with the sun, because we can only see it right before sunrise or right after sunset. Never like, in the middle of the night. And in the evening it’s the easiest to spot because it’s usually the first one to show up… Or the brightest.”

“That’s really cool… I had no idea. So we got Venus, Mars and Jupiter right in front of us, and to that side” —he shrugs his right shoulder, indicating what direction he’s talking about— “we got Saturn near the moon. Got that right?”

“Yep. Perfect.”

“Ha!” He smiles, sounding all proud of himself. “Tonight we gotta do this again. Wanna see if I can find them myself.”

Aurora smiles, too. “Okay. I’ll test you.”

“Deal.” 

Her smile turns into a joyful beam, and as their happiness nests in silence, Aurora feels herself somehow melting into him. Maybe not physically, but emotionally. And even maybe mentally, if that’s possible.

She isn’t really sure of what’s going on — and she can’t really explain it when she doesn’t understand it herself. What she knows, though, it’s that it’s nice to share that moment with him. And that she’s happy to be there with him. She knows that it’s nice to be wrapped inside his arms while the sky turns into lighter shades of blue and leaves its heavy darkness fully behind. That it feels good when he places his chin on her shoulder and watches how a new day begins right in front of them—how things change right in front of them.

Because things are always changing and things will always change.  

Although…

Even when constellations officially start to fade off, there’s a reminder of their existence still flickering from time to time. Letting her know they’re still there, and that they can still be found. That just because they’re about to stand behind and let others shine, it doesn’t mean they won’t get another chance to try again. To show up again. To be themselves again. 

And, yeah, maybe she’s taking it too far, maybe she’s reading too much into it. But Harry’s consideration and enthusiasm bring comfort to her heart, and as the horizon burns with flames and is draped with layers of honey, words fly out of her mouth before she can at least think about them first. 

“This is actually something Noah and I do together pretty often… Watching the sky.”

“Yeah? He likes it?”

“He does, yeah… He never showed any interest, but one time he woke up in the middle of the night after a nightmare and he just wouldn’t stop crying… So I took him to the living room and sat with him next to the window… I mean, I was just trying to distract him, y’know? So I started pointing out the ones I knew and telling stories about them.”

“What kind of stories?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs and chuckles, aware of the lies that she would probably have to explain as soon as he got older. “I was just trying to calm him down, so I was improvising… Told him how there are two bears protecting the other constellations, about this dog that’s their best friend and helps them sometimes, and that when we see the brightest stars twinkling it’s because they’re watching out for us, too… I don’t know. Silly things like that. I’m not really creative so…”

“Those are not silly things,” Harry says, and she can feel his jaw move on her shoulder with every word he lets out of his mouth. “I mean, at least I don’t think so. I remember when my grandma died and I was struggling to understand the concept of not seeing her ever again, and then my mum told me Nana had turned into a star, so she would always watch out for me and that I could talk to her every night. And that was nice.”

Aurora feels the way he shrugs behind her, but it feels almost forced. As if he’s just trying to prove he doesn’t think too much of his own vulnerable words. 

And yet, that doesn’t stop him from talking again and sharing even more with her.

“Sometimes I would look at the sky and pretend I was talking to her. Say hello, or goodnight, or things like that. Of course later I figured out it wasn’t real and I stopped, but deep down it kinda stuck with me, y’know? So now when I look up and see the stars, I like to… Y’know. Just think that my mum is up there, too. Y’know. Still around. Watching out for me. Hanging out with Nana. Stuff like that.”

Aurora bites her lip, taking in everything he just said. Aware of how hard it must’ve been for him to say that, and how even his voice and the words he used carried along that uneasiness, sadness and longing that comes with losing someone we love. 

She doesn’t want to make the silence too long or turn it awkward, though, so she doesn’t search for the perfect thing to say, she just slides her hands to his wrists and tries her best to twist her upper body and look at him, then says whatever it’s there for her to say. 

“That’s so beautiful.” 

Harry smiles, and it should seem blurry with how close he is, but he actually looks as clear as ever. As pure and vulnerable as ever. 

“I know,” he says. He turns his hands over and meets her palms, easily linking their fingers together. “And it’s not different from what you did when telling those stories to Noah… He’ll always feel protected now, he’ll have something to hold on to, even if he doesn’t say it out loud… And that’s because of you.”

Aurora bites the flesh inside of her cheek and breathes in, feeling the burning in her throat instantly watering her eyes. 

“Okay,” she blurts out and faces forward. “We should stop now, because I’m about to start crying.”

Harry chuckles, but it’s so soft and tender that it feels like he’s just hugging her. “Sorry, love.”

Shaking her head, she clears her throat and brushes her thumbs up and down the back of his hands. “It means a lot… Everything you said. So thank you.”

“Of course.” He squeezes her. 

“I mean,” she finds herself speaking again, “deep down I know it’s not silly and that he really loved that, because now whenever the sky’s clear he gets all excited for us to find them again.”

“And does he spot them easily?”

“Well…” Aurora smiles. “The bears are supposed to be Ursa Major and Ursa Minor, so sometimes… If they’re hard to spot and he’s really confident he saw them somewhere else, I’ll pretend he’s right. But the others, y’know, like the planets I showed you today, he’s usually pretty good at finding them, yeah.” 

“Hmm… What a smart little guy.”

Her face breaks with happiness and pride, and for once she doesn’t even try to hide it. 

Truth be told, Aurora knows she can’t take credit for Noah’s entire DNA, so there’s no point to deny that when it comes to intelligence, she hopes Zack’s genes will play a bigger role than hers. Which seems to be the case so far, because he’s constantly blowing up her mind with— 

“Only two left now,” Harry murmurs. “Venus and…”

Aurora looks around, taking in how the setting they’re in slowly turns into strawberry ice cream, and how thin gray clouds surf in thin waves made of yellow lemon rinds. It reflects all around them — from the sky to the water, and even the air they’re breathing in. Suddenly lighter. Fresher. Saltier. 

“What’s the other one?”

“Jupiter,” she whispers. 

“Jupiter.” Harry nods. “Right.”

It is so magical that it takes her breath away, and the fact that the last two planets in the sky are barely hanging on a string doesn’t seem so bad. Not if it means it will lead them to witness something so extraordinary like this.

“Can’t believe everyone else’s missing this,” she murmurs.

“I know…” he says. “Hands down the most beautiful sunrise I’ve ever seen.”

Aurora nods, and a moment of silence goes by. 

Then Harry speaks again. 

“I’m happy it’s just the two of us, tho,” he says, his voice so low that Aurora isn’t even sure she is supposed to hear him. 

But she does, of course. 

She hears him, and she understands him. Because had their friends been there with them, things would be different. They probably wouldn’t even be sitting together, so they also wouldn’t be holding each other, or linking fingers, or whispering into each other’s ears. 

In the end, she would’ve shared the moment with everyone, but she wouldn’t have shared it with him. 

Much likely how the entire day is going to go by once they all wake up. 

Which, now that she thinks about it, will slightly suck. 

Before she can put together the words to agree with him, though, the sun finally peeks out, and the horizon turns into lava. 

Dark and intense as a tangerine, it quickly takes over all the other colors—the timid purple here and there, the pink, the yellow. 

It’s just as beautiful as before, albeit a little bit different. Because from now on, she knows it’ll be quick. She knows even blinking could mean missing something, and she knows it won’t take long for everything to go back to normal. For the magic to end. For things to be over. 

And perhaps Harry’s line of thinking is traveling the same route, because he leans in and presses his lips on her shoulder, sighing loudly to her skin before he moves to the side and kisses her again. 

And again. 

And again. 

Aurora bites her lip and breathes in slowly, filling her stomach with air before letting it all empty again. 

He’s good at this. He’s good at teasing her and making it happen, both at the same time. He’s good, and Aurora likes that—she wants that. So she closes her eyes and tilts her head to the side, giving him more access. Giving him more room, and more skin. More to kiss, and more to taste.

Harry curls his lips up as he takes them further up, spreading more distracting kisses all the way through her neck. Following a sweet, gentle path that he makes sure to equally enjoy in every step of the way, up until the corner of her jaw. 

“Is this ok?” he murmurs, low and husky, then takes her earlobe inside his mouth. 

Shit.

Aurora’s body tenses all at once, and then a shiver runs down her spine. 

He doesn’t wait for an answer before kissing her skin again, but it’s obvious that he doesn’t need one—there’s absolutely no reason for him to believe it isn’t okay to make her melt and sigh against him. Just like there’s absolutely no reason for her to do anything that would put a stop to what he’s doing right now.

And yet, it’s like her body reacts on its own, because next thing she knows she’s already turning her head to the side and searching for him.

Harry meets her with his chin at first, bumping it into her cheek before he tilts his head down and slides his nose all the way to her mouth. 

As soon as they’re within reach, their lips act like magnets, immediately curling and molding around each other.

Aurora breathes in, as if she’s been lacking all this time, and Harry breathes out, as if he’s been holding it in all along. 

Slow, but undoubted. 

Wholehearted. 

He lets go of her fingers and brings his hand to her jaw, holding her in place while his other arm remains around her waist. 

The way his forearm rests on her chest, almost sinking between her breasts, fires an alarm inside her brain, and Aurora shuts it down by bringing her own free hand to his wrist and keeping him there.

It’s uncomfortable to kiss him like this—with her head tilted back and to the side. It’s uncomfortable, but it’s also comforting. The best kind of comfort, actually. To have him so close, so awkward, so real. So willing to just be there with her. 

It makes her belly flutter, and her hands itch. 

It makes her crave for more. 

So when he pulls away, and when the sound of their lips parting echoes on the empty highest deck, Aurora drops her hands and shifts between his legs, turning and leaning sideways against him. 

That is all Harry needs to take the hint and move as well—to get rid of the blanket, then find her waist and pull her along as he shuffles to lay down. 

“Here,” he says, rolling on his side and holding the pillow for her to use. 

Smoothly and effortlessly. 

Aurora lifts her head and makes herself comfortable, watching his pretty features as he holds his weight on one elbow and brings his free hand to pull her hair out of her face.

His gaze follows his own movements, keeping track of his hand as he puts her untamed waves behind her ear, and also as he brushes the back of his fingers down her neck and through the curve of her shoulder and extension of her arm. 

He’s respectful, but also straightforward. Brushing her bicep while actually scanning her breasts, then settling his palm on a covered spot on her side while he keeps running his eyes past her tiny silky shorts and all the way through her exposed legs. 

Suddenly, Aurora is very conscious of the way heat spreads through her veins, the way her heartbeat speeds up, and the way her belly quivers. 

She’s nervous, she knows she is. She hasn’t thought about being with anyone other than her husband (well, ex-husband) for almost a decade now, so it’s only natural her instincts are shouting for her to squirm away or hide herself. Even though she more than definitely doesn’t want to squirm away or hide herself. Especially from him. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Harry murmurs, almost to himself, lost in sight around her ankles. 

Aurora swallows. 

Shadows of orange meet his silhouette, and the light blue behind him contrasts nicely with the green of his eyes. He looks kind of angelic, to be honest, praising her when there’s nothing but affection and admiration on his face. 

“You think so?” she asks, then brings both arms between their chests, her hands nestling around his sweatshirt. 

Harry brushes his thumb up and down her waist and nods. 

“Always thought so,” he says, as if it was the most natural thing to share. And then he wanders his gaze up through her body and settles his attention inside her eyes, and Aurora feels the intensity of his many emotions pouring into her. 

It’s hypnotizing, and it knocks the air out of her lungs. 

“Always the most beautiful girl in the room,” he adds. 

Aurora’s lips curl around a tiny and timid smile, and Harry’s gaze shifts to them. He leans in, then, closing his eyes and sealing his words by softly and simply pressing his mouth to hers. 

Her chest squeezes around her heart, so she closes her eyes and slides one arm up, pressing her palm to the back of his neck and encouraging him to stay there. 

Which he does, at least for another second or two. And even when he pulls away—even when he creates the tiniest distance between their mouths and squeezes her waist so he can shift closer and lay half on top of her—he still remains close enough to let her know it’s not over yet. And he’s not going anywhere.

Aurora keeps her eyes shut and sighs, instinctively puckering when his mouth fully touches hers again. Careful. Polite. As though he’s introducing himself and letting his presence be known before he curls around her bottom lip and sucks her flesh into his mouth. 

The quietest and softest whimper vibrates in Aurora’s throat, and Harry deepens his fingers around her waist. 

With a hum, he tastes her like he’s been craving for it his entire life. Like it’s the most delicious flavor he’s ever found. Or like he’s hoping to take a snippet of her forever with him. 

He takes his time. And enjoys himself. Only letting go of her lip to peck her mouth once and then going for it again. 

Except now he sucks her flesh in and secures it between his teeth, then holds it in as he pulls away. 

For a moment, it’s almost painful. But it also brings a fire to her chest, and then a new whine to the back of her throat. 

And then it’s almost embarrassing, how he leaves her hanging as he groans and suddenly lets her go. 

It takes Aurora a moment to realize nothing else is happening. That she’s just laying there with her eyes closed and mouth parted, and that he isn’t kissing her anymore. 

So she licks her lips and blinks, swallowing as she finds him already staring at her. 

Attentive.

Handsome. 

Preoccupied. 

Affectionate. 

With a racing heart, she spreads one hand open on his chest and takes the other up on the back of his head. Moving as much as she can whilst her arms remain tucked between them. 

“What’s wrong?” she asks, and although she doesn’t mean to whisper, apparently it’s all her voice can come up with right now. 

Harry smiles. 

“Nothing.” He shakes his head twice. “‘M just enjoying the view.” 

Aurora rolls her eyes, but she also mimics his smile and turns her head, avoiding to look at him in case heat spreads through her cheeks. 

“Hey,” he calls with another squeeze to her waist. “C’mere.”

He’s leaning in before she fully tilts her head back, meeting her mouth with a little more intent than he’s shown so far. 

Aurora closes her eyes and feels him smashing their lips together only for a second before he loudly breaks them apart, and then smashes them again, and again, and again. 

And again. 

The cute, little and repetitive mwah, mwah, mwah echo in her mind, causing her to smile and, very quickly, inevitably break into a giggle. 

Harry smiles at her reaction, then moves his playful tenderness to her chin — mwah — her cheek — mwah, mwah, mwah — her nose — mwah — and her other cheek. 

Mwah.

“Harry!” She laughs, bringing both hands back to her chest and squirming away. 

Mwah.

“Stop!”

Mwah, now closer to her beaming mouth, and then mwah, right on top of her parted lips and exposed teeth. Kissing not only her, but also her laughter and her happiness. Sharing it with her. 

The gesture makes her chest feel lighter, and when he pulls away again, it compels her to lift her head and follow him. Stealing a new kiss of her own—one that’s even longer and even louder than all others before. 

Mwahhhhh.

Harry smiles, and as Aurora drops her head back to the pillow and blinks to the bright and clean sky, he brings his hand up to the side of her neck and lowers his face to touch his forehead with hers. 

It’s kind of adorable, really, how cozy and laid-back he looks. His eyelids are shut and his mouth is slightly parted, as if he’s taking a moment to recollect himself, but the emotion behind his actions is still present. Deepening on a dimple and drawing the clearest upward curve on his lips, or even coming out of his chest and warming up her face with short heavy breaths. 

Then it is also kind of impressive, how he mixes all that with confidence and maturity. How manly he presents himself, even though he’s full of cheesy lines and teasing words. How strong and tough he proves to be, even though his behavior is mostly carried by vulnerability and tenderness. Or how deeply he makes her feel, even though he doesn’t seem to be trying so.

Kind of adorable, kind of impressive, but also kind of crazy, isn’t it? Almost kind of scary. How easy it is to be with him like this. How moments around him keep causing this friendly and familiar feeling inside her, and how much playfulness and fun he constantly brings to the table. And at the same time, how quickly he’s sparking so many emotions inside her body. How he’s reminding her about things she didn’t even notice she forgot about, and how he’s leading her to realize how neglected her own desires and needs have been all this time. 

The up and down brush of his thumb on her throat is nothing but soft and innocent, and yet it keeps bringing a new level of heat to the blood rushing through her veins. The way he looks (with his tempting lips and scruffy growing facial hair), the way his body feels (pressing on her side while one of his legs rests placidly on top of hers), and even the way he’s dressed (clothed from up to toe with the most simple and plain set of sweats). 

Everything about him is making her body itch. 

Everything. 

And, to be completely honest, Aurora doesn’t know what to do with that. Or how she’ll go the entire day without going insane because of that. How she’ll watch him laugh without being able to run her fingers through his hair, or how she’ll sit next to him without being able to nuzzle on his chest, or how she’ll talk to him without being able to kiss his mouth. 

She licks her lips, then, running her eyes over his too close and blurry face.

It doesn’t even make sense to feel like this for a person she’s just met again. 

She knows it’s probably because she hasn’t gotten any attention in a really long time and he’s suddenly there, willing to give it to her. Being nice to her. Making her laugh. 

She knows it’s temporary, that as soon as they leave the yacht their paths will part again and she’ll realize how overdramatic she’s being right now. 

Rationally, she knows. 

But still, what is she supposed to do? 

Is she supposed to ignore how she’s feeling? 

Is she supposed to ignore how he is making her feel?

Well… 

Maybe, yes. 

Maybe it’s for the best if she offers they go back inside and meet again when everyone’s around. 

Maybe that’s the smart, mature thing to do.

And yet… 

It is not what she wants. 

Is she supposed to do it anyway?

With a sigh, that’s mostly to shut the voices inside her head, she slides her hand back to his neck, then allows her fingers to get lost in between his curls.

Things are quiet around them — too quiet. Waves crash distantly downstairs, seabirds cry out hazily from time to time, and despite the fact that the sun is fully out and the sky has settled into the most gorgeous blue and the most vivid yellow, other voices apart from theirs have yet to be heard.

It’s encouraging, somehow. To be all alone and under such a paradisiac view. 

Maybe that’s what prompts Aurora to move next, when she tilts her chin up and down and brushes the tip of her nose with his own. Once and twice. 

It’s a silent call for attention, and also a call that he picks up immediately, blinking and holding her stare with a new set of emotions behind them.  

“Can I tell you something?” 

Aurora scratches the back of his head and nods. Their noses brush again. 

“Of course.”

“I can’t feel my arm anymore,” he whispers.

Aurora’s mouth curls up, then soft laughter breaks from her chest. 

Harry smiles as well, then they both shift and shuffle until he’s laying on her other side and holding his weight on his other elbow. 

“Fuuuck,” he breathes out with a chuckle, waving his hand up and down while finding a spot on top of her thighs for his other leg. “Ten minutes and we’ll switch again.”

“Okay.”

Still smiling, Aurora throws one arm around his shoulders and angles her body towards him, albeit a little bit more intentionally than before. Her other hand rests between them, her own elbow tucked between her breasts while her fingers hold onto the neckline of his sweatshirt. 

Nothing else is said between them, no plans or intentions are shared, and yet it’s like they’re perfectly in sync. 

Their eyes meet, then their smiles fade off. A moment goes by, and the ocean fills their silence as Harry shifts his sight to her mouth, then gets interrupted by his own heavy exhale when she drags her tongue to lick her lips. 

“I swear to God…” he murmurs, already lowering his face closer to hers. 

He places his arm across her belly and molds his palm around her side, then she reaches up and kisses him. Or maybe he leans in and kisses her—it’s hard to tell, with both of their mouths already open and their tongues instantly searching for each other.

Eyes closed, Aurora twists her hand around his sweatshirt and hums. And Harry sneaks the arm that’s holding his weight underneath her neck and hums. And just like that, it’s like an unspoken hesitation instantly dissolves, or like their brains finally get rid of the restraints that were pulling the strings up until then, because, very quickly, it becomes very desperate. Very messy. Very needy. And very intense. 

For both of them. 

Their kiss is now a kiss that can be heard, felt, and seen. A kiss that doesn’t stop there. A kiss that crushes her tightly onto the sunbed and pulls urgently down his chest. A kiss that tangles her fingers around his hair. A kiss that tilts their heads to one side, and then to the other one. A kiss that’s loud, and wet, and over the top. And yet never enough.

A kiss that feels right.

Damn it feels right. 

So, so right. 

Like putting together matching pieces of a rare puzzle. 

Maybe not the most gracious kiss she’s shared with someone, nor the most tactful to display in such a clear and open space, but certainly one that consumes her like no other. So much so that it echoes sweetly through a whine in the back of her throat, revealing how gone for it—for him—she already is.

Harry slows down, then. He sucks around her lip and brings his hand to her throat, barely holding there for a second before he slides his palm to her collarbone and then further down, covering where she’s beating fast and out of tempo for him. 

“I’ve dreamed about this for so long,” he says around her lips, digging his nails on her skin and the heel of his palm on the swell of her breast. Almost as if he’s trying to catch her heart inside his very own hand. “About you… About us…” 

He brushes the tip of his nose with hers and, just like that, kisses her once more. Not giving her one second to absorb or question his confession before he’s taking over her mouth all over again.

And Aurora has questions, lots of them, but she’s also distracted. So distracted. Because Harry isn’t holding anything back anymore. He’s hungry, vehement, and demanding. Ardent. He kisses her so loudly that it is all she can hear, and so deeply that it is all she can feel. And she likes it. All of it. 

So, so much.

She likes how he knots the hand that’s underneath her head around her hair and holds her tight, and then how he forcefully presses his other palm to her body when he strokes it down, feeling and squeezing all the curves of her chest, belly, and waist.

She likes how he isn’t embarrassed to use his tongue and teeth, or to show how much of her he seems to want to devour. How he sometimes moves his kisses to her jaw, and to her neck, but then quickly comes back to her mouth. As if he couldn’t stay away. 

She likes how he touches her leg. How he teases with the hem of her shorts. How he always, always goes back to her sides. As if digging his fingers into her flesh is his favorite thing to do. And then how he presses her down and yet pushes her up at the same time, as if he couldn’t decide who should be on top. 

She likes how fast, short-winded, and never-ending it goes. How it feels. How none of them can’t seem to bring themselves to wrap it up. 

It’s like the entire universe stops around her, but also like her very own personal world finally starts spinning again. Like his kiss is the single drop to cure a hundred years of thirst, but also like getting away from his lips would mean going through another hundred years of starvation. 

Everything he does fits perfectly with everything she does. And everything she needs. The way he holds her, the way he licks her, the way he breathes into her—the way he breathes from her. The pace in which he moves, the angle in which he tilts his head, the eagerness in which he pulls apart and moves in again.

Everything — everything — is good. 

And she really, really, really likes it. 

All of it.

So much.

Oh God. 

It’s just… 

It’s been so long since anyone has made her feel like this. 

So long since her body reacted on her own, since she didn’t feel the urge to reprehend her instincts or shut down her needs.

So, so long, that she isn’t even surprised when she snaps out of it. When she brings both arms around his neck and pulls him fully on top of her. Spreading her legs open so he lays in between them, then taking both hands to the back of his head and raking her fingers all over. Twisting them around his curls. Tugging him close. Trying to find a way to get more of it, to get more of him.

She whines, as if frustrated that she can’t merge their bodies together, and Harry hums. Low and husky. Deep in his throat. 

He kisses her fervently, like he means it, like he needs it, meanwhile settling his weight down and adjusting their heights so his hips are pressed against hers.

That’s when his bulge pokes between her legs, and the softest moan escapes from Aurora’s throat. 

The thin and tiny fabric of her shorts does close to nothing to cover her underwear, making it ridiculously easy for her to feel his shape through his sweatpants. 

Full, firm, and hard. 

Heavy between her legs.

It catches her by surprise, to be honest, and she’s got no idea how further she should go —or how further he is willing to go— but she doesn’t even try to fight the feeling that creeps in. Instead, she brings both legs to hook them around his waist and finds the strength to move up and down. Timidly, just barely. Feeling him stroke exactly where she’s also grown warm, wet and needy for him. 

This time, they both moan. 

Harry brings both hands to her waist and squeezes her, holding onto her as he bends his legs by the knees and spreads them open, placing them underneath her thighs. It gives him the freedom to own the task to himself. To kiss her while wandering his palms through her sides, and then through her arms, then finally to meet her hands and link their fingers together. 

It allows him, next, to drop their connected touch onto the pillow, then cage her head between his elbows and rest his forehead on hers. Leaving all kissing behind, because now all of his energy seems to be focused on rolling his hips collectedly. As though he’s desperately trying to keep it together. To slow himself down. To make the feeling last. 

“Damn,” he breathes around her mouth. “Auri…” 

Eyes still closed, she links her ankles even higher around his waist and squeezes her fingers around his knuckles. “Yeah?”

Another roll of his hips, and a deeper groan from his throat. 

“I just…” he tries, but it sounds like coming up with words it’s nothing but a struggle right now. Like he physically can’t. Like he needs a few moments to recollect himself. “‘M… Sorry.”

Aurora blinks. 

Harry is already staring at her. 

He lets go of one of her hands and brings his own to her face, cradling her cheek while catching his breath and trying to speak again. 

“I’m… I’m pretty sure this is about to be the best… And also the most embarrassing thing… That’s ever… Happened to me.”

Aurora breathes in and out. Heavily. 

The fact that he’s stopped moving doesn’t go unnoticed by her, but he’s still pressed between her legs. And she’s still feeling him. And she’s still craving him. 

“Why’s that?” she asks. 

“Because…” He closes his eyes for a moment and sighs, then meets her stare again. 

This time, Aurora finds a different mix of emotions hiding between the green of his irises. He looks softer now, maybe ashamed, and she can swear there’s even pain somewhere in there. 

It causes her to bring her hand to his wrist and brush her thumb up and down. Soothing him. 

“What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head. 

“Nothing’s wrong. Jesus. Absolutely nothing’s wrong.” He chuckles, nervously. “It’s just… It’s you… And I’m really trying here but… But I think I’ll be done in less than a minute.”

Oh.

Aurora blinks.

And then… 

Oh…

The look on his face makes sense now. 

The furrowed brows. 

The frown around his mouth. 

The struggle. 

The sorrow. 

It’s cute—at least she thinks it is. And even though she doesn’t know what the best way to react is, she figures she probably shouldn’t be curling her mouth up (which she is), nor laughing (which she is about to). 

“Huh.” Harry raises his eyebrows and flinches his head back. “Really? You think that’s funny?”

“No! Of course not.”

“Then why are you laughing?”

“‘M not laughing!”

She totally is. 

Harry snorts. 

“You totally are!” 

Yup.

“I’m sorry!” She lifts her head to kiss him, but Harry dodges her. “C’mon!”  

She tries again, and Harry slides his touch from her cheek to her neck, then pushes her back down onto the pillow.

All at once, Aurora swallows her laughter and gets rid of her smile, feeling his big and strong hand holding around her throat as she gulps down. 

Shit.

At first, her brain recreates the scenario she’s become familiar with, and Aurora freezes. Waiting for the anger to come out. Waiting for the yelling to come out. Waiting for the voice telling her she’s ruined everything —again— and that she’s always finding a way to embarrass him.

But then Harry brushes his thumb up and down and rolls his hips once, and Aurora exhales through her nose. Shoulders dropping while her brain catches new details and reads the new context she’s in—noticing the patience on the slight tilt of his lips, the tenderness in which he holds her stare, and the carefulness in which he lets go of her throat and meets her hand. Then how he intertwines their fingers and drops them back to the pillow, above her head and next to his other hand.

His other hand, that’s still linked to hers. 

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, his head hovering over hers. “Won’t do that again.”

Aurora shakes her head. 

He does that a lot, doesn’t he? Reading her mind and knowing exactly what she wants. What she needs. Constantly embracing her, and constantly encouraging her. And never making her feel bad or guilty for the things she does. Or for the way she is. 

“You didn’t scare me. It’s just… I just…”

He nods. “I know.”

Of course he does. 

In years of knowing him, Harry’s been nothing but sweet, thoughtful, and gentle to her. A great friend, really. There’s just too much kindness inside his soul, and absolutely no reason for her to believe this scenario could ever be remotely similar to the one she’s been trapped in for so long. 

On top of that, there’s also the fact that for the last twenty-four hours or so, Harry’s been also sharing with her a side of him she’d never seen before. Flirting with her. Kissing her. Touching her. Growing bolder and bolder. Making her feel things he hadn’t made her feel before. 

Overwhelming her in a way she’s never experienced before.

Which is why she launches herself forward and kisses him, refusing to let the ghost of her ex-husband’s actions get in their way. 

“I don’t mind if you last less than a minute,” she murmurs, then unhooks and hooks her ankles around him, tightening her legs a little bit more and pressing her heels on his lower back. “Just keep going.”

Harry stares at her for a second or two, then leans in and kisses her. 

“Ok,” he murmurs, too, then squeezes her hands and resumes the rolling of his hips. “But just so y’know, I love when you smile. And when you laugh. And I’m glad my lack of strength to hold myself around you amuses you.”

He kisses her, again, and Aurora’s smile is lost against his mouth. All and any previous thoughts swiped away by his tongue. Or nibbled by his teeth. Or sucked by his lips. 

The way he moves is too intentional now, sinking and rubbing across her center in a very steady and very meaningful way. Back and forth. Back and forth. 

Her entire body grows hot, and the very air around them seems electrified. She can feel how filthier and filthier the situation gets—how the desire pools between her legs, and how easier he slides with each stroke he takes. 

And she’s sure that if she can feel it as he grinds on her, he can feel it, too.

So she removes her hands from his and brings them to the back of his head, tugging his hair to force him to look at her. Hoping to let him know she’s all in right now. That he can do whatever he wants, at any speed he wants. 

Harry holds her gaze, then brings one hand to her face and moves a little bit harsher. A little bit faster. Creating a new pace while they shelter into each other’s eyes and their breathings speed up. 

“Shit,” Harry curses. And then he groans—a sound that is very similar to a moan, and that gets muffled by her own mouth as he kisses her. 

She pushes him closer and kisses him, too. Searches for his tongue and nibbles his lips. Hums inside his mouth. Matches his urgency and encourages his recklessness. 

And then she brings one hand to his shoulder, and sneaks it underneath his armpit, and follows an invisible path from the side of his chest, to his waist, to the waistline of his sweatpants. 

Harry breaks the kiss apart and looks at her with what can only be described as shock in his eyes. 

He says nothing, though, so Aurora shuffles her hips and places her hand between them. Covering him while he gives her room and also rolls his hips again.

Long, full, and thick. 

Against her fingers and palm. 

Harry falters and moans, instantly closing his eyes and thrusting his hips forward.

Aurora wraps her touch around him as best as she can, filling her hand and feeling him up. Wishing she could do way more than that.

Harry moans again, and again. Shortly and breathlessly. He furrows his brows and stops moving, then takes his own hand to cover hers and guide her. 

“I— Shit—I’m gonna cum.”

Aurora nods and kisses him. And touches him. And feels him. And hears him. And absorbs him. 

“Auri,” he suddenly calls, and it’s a little bit heavy, a little bit tense. Different than any other time she’s ever heard him call her name before.  Sounds like a plea, sounds like a warning, sounds like affection and admiration. Sounds like he’s fighting his own release whilst climbing toward a desperate climax at the same time. Like he’s struggling to let go. 

“That’s me,” she whispers, and a low rumble of pleasure bursts from his chest. 

It makes her sweat on the back of her neck and adds a new tingling sensation deep in her belly, one she can only handle by squeezing him tighter and moving even faster. Harsher. 

“C’mon,” she adds. “Do it.” 

Harry closes his eyes and furrows his brows, then parts his lips and crashes onto her chest. Vulnerable and real, moved by involuntary and helpless spasms that have him moaning and making a mess out of his own clothes. 

She feels it through the fabric. The relief. The release. The moment he shatters and shudders. And Aurora stays with him through it, in awe of how beautiful he is. And sounds. And feels. She hugs him with her free arm and kisses his temple, and his forehead. And when Harry tugs her hand and brings it up to his mouth, offering little kisses to her knuckles, she nuzzles her cheek into his curls and allows herself to smile. 

Allows Harry to stay hidden on her neck and catch his breath, whilst holding onto her fingers and crushing her body. 

Allows time to go by. 

And allows her heart to settle into a new beat. 

Blissful. 

Pleased.

Even though she didn’t finish herself.

And it’s just… 

Everything. 

She truly forgot being with someone could feel like this. That it could be more than the absent thrusting from behind, staring at the wall, and waiting for it to be over. That it could have other endings, apart from hiding tears away so she wouldn’t get a roll of eyes or have to hear “here we go again”. 

That it didn’t have to involve emptiness, coldness, or loneliness. 

That it could happen with someone who actually wanted to be with her. 

She forgot, because she had to forget. Because she was forced to. Because she had to let go of the version she was holding onto and move on. Stop hoping things would go back to what they were, accept the reality she was in, and get away from it. 

Which was really hard at first, because their relationship didn’t used to be like that. Of course it didn’t—Aurora used to love Zack. She used to be in love with him. She used to think he was the one. 

If she digs enough, she could probably still find a memory of him dropping his head back while finishing on her mouth, or him kissing her to muffle his crying moan with the last few thrusts. She could, if she tried, remember the way he made her sigh, curl her toes and breathe out his name in the dark. She could also recall moments of them falling asleep wrapped around each other, then waking up and repeating all over again. 

She could. 

But she can’t.

And she shouldn’t. 

So she doesn’t. 

Because those memories aren’t real anymore. None of them bring her happiness anymore, so she doesn’t dwell on them too much. Or at all. They don’t represent the man Zack turned out to be. Neither the kind of love she wished she could have received—or she thought she would receive. 

“You smell so, so nice,” Harry murmurs, brushing his nose up and down her throat. “Like peaches.” 

Aurora smiles and closes her eyes for a moment—a way to focus in the present and once again get rid of her line of thinking. 

“Thanks,” she says. “It’s my body wash.” 

Harry hums, then presses his lips where he’s been breathing from. A long, sweet, innocent kiss. One that lingers on her skin as he shuffles down and rearranges himself to lay his face on her chest, his temple right where her sternum begins, and his chin right where the swell of her breasts meet. 

“I think the crew is up,” he murmurs, and spreads his arms open, resting one hand near her shoulder and bringing the other to fidget with the strap of her top. Right in front of him. “Pretty sure I just heard people talking.”

“Oh…” 

Her chest tightens around her heart, and it’s hard not to pout at the idea of having to let go of him. 

“Yeah…” 

He wanders his hand on her side, down to her hips, then back up to her armpit. Without a word, he runs his fingertip across the hem of her top, scratching his nail on the surface of her breast. 

Aurora breathes in and out, then slides her hands on his head, threading her fingers through his curls and scratching his scalp—if only to enjoy the little time that’s left. 

“Do you wanna go downstairs?” she asks.

Harry shakes his head. 

“We’re not done here yet.” 

“We’re not?”

He shakes his head again, then slides his finger through the silky fabric, moving until he bumps on her nipple. 

“It’s your turn now,” he says, drawing circles and watching the tip grow perky and rigid. 

Aurora’s mouth twitches. 

“That’s a nice offer, but… Would it be weird if I said no?”

Harry tenses—she feels it on top of her—and then he withdraws his hand from her chest. Like her skin is on fire and he just burnt himself. 

“No, of course not. Sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed—”

“Oh my God,” Aurora snorts, then finds his hand and places it back on her breast. “Relax. I’m just really happy right now. And I feel good. So I just… I don’t know. I want to enjoy this a little bit longer, like this. With you. That’s all.” 

She spreads his fingers open, encouraging him to fully touch her, then moves her hand back to the back of his hair—where she decided they belong now.  

“Don’t stop touching me, tho. Feels good when you touch me.”

He brushes his thumb up and down, caressing the side of her boob. 

And Aurora feels the way he smiles, the way his cheeks move and the way his body relaxes. The way he feels heavier. The way he melts on top of her.

But then, he says nothing.

And as time goes by, only the birds and the ocean create a soundtrack to cover their silence. Plates click somewhere, and at some point a couple of voices finally make it to her ears. 

Still, none of them move. 

And none of them say a word.

“Are you awake?” Aurora whispers.

Harry nods. Once. 

“Mhm.”

She closes her eyes, and brushes the back of his head. 

Feels his hair between her fingers. 

Feels his breathing on her chest.

Feels the up and down of his stomach matching her own.

“You got so quiet…”

Harry hums.  

“I know.” 

“Why? What’s on your mind?”

“What you said… Felt good to hear. So I’m replaying it over and over again.”

Aurora smiles.

“What, exactly, are you replaying over and over?”

“I’m just really happy right now,” he says. “And, I want to enjoy this a little bit longer with you. Also, feels good when you touch me.”

Heat spreads through her cheeks, and she squeezes her eyes shut even tighter. 

“God… So apparently your cheesiness is contagious, after all.”

Harry chuckles, his body shaking on top of hers.  

“For what it’s worth, I’m really happy, too. Gross. But happy.”

Aurora snorts.

“Seriously, I need a shower.”

“I mean, you just came in your pants so… Yeah. I figure you do.”

He lifts his head, and Aurora tilts her chin down. 

Their eyes meet. 

“I did, huh? Because of you.”

She rolls her eyes.

Harry keeps going. 

“You made me cum in my pants. In thirty seconds. Like a horny teenager.”

At that, she laughs. 

Probably louder than she should, though, so she widens her eyes and brings her hand to cover her mouth.

Harry smirks.

“You made me cum, with that hand.”

“Oh my God,” she breathes out, laughing even more. “Really? This one?”

She takes her hand to his face and slides it from his forehead to his chin. 

Harry holds her wrist, keeping her palm in front of his mouth. 

“Mhm.” He kisses her, then speaks against her skin. “This beautiful, wonderful, ethereal hand.”

Aurora shakes her head, but she also brushes her thumb, caressing the top of his lips.

After a moment, she sighs and says, “I should get dressed. Don’t want people to see me like this.”

Harry furrows his brows. “What’s wrong with this?”

She shrugs, dropping her hand to her chest. 

“Just… Kinda shows off a lot, doesn’t it?” 

He looks down, scanning as much as he can without moving. 

And then he looks up. 

“Not enough, to be honest.” 

She smiles, and rolls her eyes. 

“Well, I won’t feel comfortable if any of the boys see me wearing this, so…”

Harry nods.

“So…” he repeats. 

“We should probably go downstairs.”

“We should, yes.”

“You should take a shower.”

“And you should change your clothes.”

“Exactly.”

“Yep…” 

They hold each other’s stares. 

Firmly. Deeply. 

Unabatingly. 

Wholeheartedly. 

“Just so you know,” he finally says, “this isn’t how I planned things to go between us.”

Aurora raises her brows. 

“Really? You mean you didn’t plan on coming to Italy and convincing me to watch the sunrise, then getting a hand job from me, on a yacht, at six am?” 

Harry’s mouth curls up. “Jesus. Not even in my wildest dreams I thought I would ever be this lucky.”

Aurora snorts, then playfully smacks her hand on his shoulder. 

“Shut up.” 

“No, I mean it, tho. I’m happy, but if we go back downstairs and for any reason this ends up being the last chance I get to be with you, I’ll never forgive myself.” 

She flinches her chin back, eyebrows furrowing. “Why?” 

“You didn’t finish.”

“Oh…” She nods. And then shrugs. “Well, it was my choice, tho. You offered.”

“No, I know, still… Kinda feel like an asshole.”

“Don’t. I really enjoyed it. Everything. I swear.” 

Harry sighs, and a crease appears in the middle of his forehead. Without a word, he wanders his eyes around her face, as if checking for any indication of a different answer—which she knows he won’t find, because she means what she’s saying. 

“Hey,” she says, taking both hands to the back of his neck. “I mean it, okay? Don’t worry about that. Besides, isn’t it more exciting like this? Knowing that you kind of owe me?”

He raises his eyebrows and moves back up, hovering her face with his. 

“I kind of owe you, huh?”

Aurora nods. 

“You do. So, y’know, we kind of have something to look forward to…”

“Right. That being, an orgasm.”

“Exactly.”

Harry smirks, then smiles, then chuckles. 

He leans down and kisses her—one, two, three, four, five times. The same cute, little mwah, mwah, mwah from before echoing loudly inside her. 

“God you’re amazing.” 

Mwah. 

“Can’t wait,” 

—mwah— 

“for the next” 

—mwah— 

“time.” 

Mwah. 

Mwah. 

Mwah. 

[sugoi-and-spice]

Chapter Thirty - Yesterday

Summary: Tomura Shigaraki was her dad’s boss’s son. He was the creep that stole girls’ underwear and tried to grope her in his room. But it’s not like he could get her Dad fired just because she wouldn’t sleep with him, right? …right?

CW: Quirkless!AU, Explicit Smut, Dub-Con, Coercion, Blackmail, Cheating, Sexual Guilt, Humiliation, Unhealthy Relationships, Power Play, Hate to Love, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Slow Burn, Racism

A/N: Yeahhhh, so I ended up splitting the chapter anyway lol It was gonna be like 70+ pages, I freaking had to. So sorry for that wait just for a normal chapter!

Read Full on AO3

[excerpt]

Ugh, his head was killing him.

His neck too, although that wasn’t anything new. Nothing he shouldn’t have expected considering how badly he’d torn into it this time. 

Shigaraki really couldn’t remember what about today had been so horrible and overwhelming (or maybe it was yesterday now, considering he had no idea how long he’d been out of it for). At any rate, it wasn’t just one thing, he supposed. 

It was the anniversary of the day Sensei got rid of Mon-chan, that day each year was always a rough one. His dreams always seemed to be a lot worse, so he usually made a concerted effort to not sleep the night before, so he was tired. Not to mention the summer weather was sweltering, and it had rained the day before, that hot humidity causing his worn skin to sting in a strangely familiar and disturbing way.

And then he’d gotten to school. God, fucking school. 

There were alternating stretches in his life among his school peers, where either they’d be scared of and avoid him, or be superior and bully him. He supposed actually that the former actions — the social isolation they consciously put him through — was technically a form of bullying too, but whatever. There was a difference. There were times where the general collective got a lot more hands on with asserting his pariah status to him. 

This week fell during the “hands-on” period of the cycle, as evidenced by the words “die, pervert, die” scribbled across his shoe locker in sharpie. Not to mention the way he was continuously and subtly tripped by the other boys during their gym class. At one point he’d also accidentally bumped into that cute girl that sat next to him — Fuwa he was pretty sure her name was — and she had physically recoiled, whispering and giggling loudly with her friends after about how creepy and nasty he was. Practically making sure that he could hear every word of it.

But honestly, he couldn’t even say that that was the issue that really started to make his skin crawl. He didn’t really notice it much. His homeroom teacher sure had though. She asked him to speak with her in the faculty office during lunch. Expressed concern there over his antisocial behavior and lack of cohesiveness with his peers. Not to mention some of the unsavory rumors she’d overheard about him recently. At the end of the lecture she mentioned that if things didn’t turn around soon, she’d want to speak with his Guardian.

He supposed that’s what he’d ultimately been thinking about when calculus came around that afternoon, his fingers clawing deeper and deeper into the side of his neck as he tried to figure out what to do. Because, what the actual fuck was he supposed to do? How could he turn this around when he wasn’t the one to even put his life in this direction in the first place? He didn’t fucking do anything wrong, didn’t do anything to anybody. He had no control. He was helpless. 

Even as he tried to stay in his seat when called up to solve an equation on the board, he could do nothing about it. There would be consequences if he didn’t get up right now. He was completely at the teacher’s mercy. At the other students’ mercy. At his Sensei’s mercy.

At everyone else’s mercy, just like he’d always been.

His life wasn’t his own, it never had been. And he couldn’t fucking take it anymore. He didn’t want to die, but he wanted everyone else to. He wanted everything around him to just crumble away and leave him alone and finally give him some goddamn fucking peace — whatever that was. 

Because he couldn’t imagine peace, truly. He’d never had it. All he had was hatred, the desire to destroy everything around him. He hated this school, these fucking people, this life.

Himself. 

Jesus, that’s probably what he hated most of all.

And then he didn’t have many more thoughts after that. It was all a blur of screams and people grabbing him and blood loss. Overwhelming pressure and a searing itch that seeped all the way down into his bones.

Yeah it had been bad, even he could admit that. It was pretty hard to deny when the scratching episode had ended with him in a forced stretcher and ambulanceride to the, several stitches, and an express ticket to the stark white intake room of Jaku Hospital’s Psychiatric Ward where little Miss Nurse Ratched was currently watching him like a hawk as he unbuckled his belt. 

Seriously, if he wanted a woman to look at him this unimpressed while he undressed, he would’ve accepted a night with one of Sensei’s hookers.

Whatever, it’s not like any of that really bothered him that much now. It was done, he was here. The bitch could glare and gripe at him all she wanted, but what was really irritating him the most about this situation was the pounding in his head. For fuck’s sake, they were in a hospital after all. Was it too much for him to get some goddamn ibuprofen before he took his pants off? The hell kind of operation was Garaki running here?

Free from the loops of his slacks, Shigaraki dropped his belt onto the ground, pointedly next to, but not in, the personal items bin that the Nurse had set out for him.

She didn’t so much as blink at the disrespect, only informed him:

“Dress shirt too.”

Shigaraki shot her a look, “Seriously?”

“You could swallow the buttons,” she explained simply in that obnoxious deadpan.

He scoffed at the explanation, but did start to undo his uniform shirt. Whatever, he figured, as the bloodied collar slackened around his shoulders and into his view. It’s not like he could wear this one again anyway. 

That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to be an asshole about it though.

“Sure you don’t need my pants too? I might make a noose out of them,” he spat as he tore the shirt from his forearms, “Ooh, or how about my underwear? If I’m determined enough, I bet you I could choke on those too.”

The Nurse just stared at him with that completely unimpressed expression.

“Just the shirt will suffice.”

Well, then. He was sure that she was just a blast at parties.

Stripped down just to his black undershirt and school slacks, the Nurse gave him a final onceover. She lingered for a moment on his uwabaki — having been rushed out straight from his math class, he hadn’t had the chance to switch out of them.

“No laces on those?”

“Does it fucking look like it?”

She circled around him, checking the shoes at every angle, before making another mark on her clipboard.

“You can keep those.”

“Well thank God for that.”

She looked up over her clipboard blankly, “You know, we have scrubs we can give you. Then we can skip this whole ordeal.”

Clearly she wished that he’d gone with that option. She wanted this over with just as much as he did. But the reality was that she was wasting her time even more than she realized. The doctor had told him that they were putting him on a 72-hour psychiatric hold sure, but they were fucking idiots if they thought that was actually going to happen.

He shivered a bit as a gust from the AC rushed over him, bringing up his bare arms to wrap around himself.

“I’d prefer you guys give me a jacket or something to put on in here,” he growled, “It’s cold as shit.”

“You can ask your guardian to bring any necessary items like that when you see him,” she explained, not looking at him, “Just make sure he reads all the guidelines first.”

Shigaraki rolled his eyes, because of course they weren’t going to offer him anything actually useful, “Whatever. Is he here yet? Are we done?”

Finally she seemed to be finished with her clipboard, bringing it down to rest at her hip and looking him in the eye.

“He just arrived, actually. Do you want to see him?”

Shigaraki gave her a confused look.

“Wha- yeah? Why the fuck wouldn’t I?”

“I’m just asking,” she explained, “I don’t know what your home-life situation is. And our goal here is to keep you safe and mentally stable. If he’s someone that might upset or trigger you, we want to respect that.”

Shigaraki’s eyes narrowed. God, this bitch was really pissing him off.

“Well I’m fine, so just get me the hell out of here already.”

She didn’t respond for a moment, just stared at him with that blank expression that Shigaraki was quickly realizing was a poker face. She was analyzing him, looking for cracks? Waiting for him to snap or break down or all of it? Whatever her aim was, it had him itching to grab the plastic bin next to him and cuck it right at her.

“This way then,” she finally relented, turning to lead him out of the intake room, “We’ll need you and your guardian to fill out a couple of forms before we can fully admit you.”

“Yeah well, good luck with that,” he said, happy to keep as much of that  biting attitude in his voice as possible.

She paused for a moment after typing in her door code, remembering seemingly.

“Oh. One more thing before we go though.”

Continue on AO3

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

College au! Rich, popular senior who is actually emotionless but uses a faux mask to hide the fact and does favors left and right, not because he's kind and considerate but because he doesn't see anyone else worth engaging with and the only way the get rid of them is through giving them what they want, like pesky leeches. Reader however saw right through his mask into his eyes and that surprised him. Someone other than his father knows?! Should he get rid of her? But.. oh? she wants something from him? A favour? How interesting..

-🌼

Yandere! Male! College student x Blockmate! Fem! Reader

Got a bit of mental exercise on this one, since what could the favor be? Hmm... Got a bit too nsfw though, so be warned. (BTW, is this spicy enough? I'm practicing lol)

Also, I decided to do some tweaks on our other yanderes, so expect relatives amongst yanderes now!

Yandere! College Student name: Alpheus

It was the third of January now, a lot of students have come back to the University in order to resume their classes. Some got blessed and has their classes to be continued by next monday, but not for this specific college.

"Ugh..." A person bemoaned to their friend. "What the hell is wrong with our Dean? Setting our return so early-- Does she have no sympathy?"

"You said it." Another person piped up. "We may be architecture students, but we're not machines!"

"Our course is hard enough without holidays bro. I just wish she let us enjoy the new years..."

"Don't you think so, Alpheus?"

Alpheus, a man who's soft and gentle. Prince-like, and someone you could rely on. He had many... Friends... As what other people see themselves when asking what their relationship with him is.

Too bad it's one sided though.

Alpheus hummed, his blank eyes that none of these guys noticed looked up to the sky.

"Well, doesn't it make sense? We finished our first semester 1st day of December. I think it's just fair for us to go back by the 3rd of January." Alpheus' almost ghost like quality of voice came out of his soft pink lips.

The friends, who were just complaining earlier, shut up from the logic he gave.

"Uh... I guess you're right."

"Well, it is a one month vacation..."

"Yeah, we got the better end of the stick."

"Other Unis only gave two weeks as vacation."

Alpheus gave a small smile to them as they murmured their suddenly new opinion due to his quips.

"This is exhausting..."

Nobody saw through his mask, the way he held so much indignant boredom he had in his eyes when they go up to him and talk. Nobody felt the way he seems so distant and plastic-y.

Maybe he got this acting skills from his brother, Ignatius.

Both of them are the opposite ends of the bar. Ignatius as the boisterous, annoying, attention seeking actor, and Alpheus, the hide-behind-a-facade, self-important, holier-than-though, plastic friend.

Well, that's what their parents describe them anyways. Too much of the old mindset gets you to be a pair of judgmental fuckers who think that mental conditions are not real, so they didn't get diagnosed if it's something to do with their psychology.

Alpheus grew up mostly being overshadowed by his brother, but is honestly shining more when it comes to academics. Making the attention between them fairly equal.

Like how their parents describe them, Ignatius is talented, while Alpheus is a genius.

That didn't make them less terrified on Alpheus though.

When he was a child especially, he looks so dead inside and unreadable that it freaked them out. Even contemplating on calling the exorcist.

Alas, they didn't at the risk of their family reputation to fall off.

Only Ignatius got him.

When Alpheus got older, he met more people who got freaked out by how apathetic and emotionless he is.

But, with the help of his brother, he learned how to put up a mask. Albeit just the barest of minimum, people got fooled somehow.

That, and Alpheus just goes with the flow most of the time.

Just to make them shut up, he always ends up doing favors and helps the people who ask for him to do something for them.

"People... Such a bother..."

At least they're tools for him to blend in seamlessly...

"By the way, Alpheus, is your mansion available on Sunday?"

Here they go again...

It's a never ending cycle for him.

"Why? Do you want to do a party there?" He asks gently, another soft smile on his face that made that person flustered.

"U-uh yes! I mean, the last pool party we did there was crazy."

It was crazy cuz all of you thrashed my damn mansion.

It's somehow of a blessing that his family is rich. He got to move out to a new place, his brother did too, and funded all of their lavish tastes. Even if it was a way to make them shut up and not interact with their parents, it gave them freedom to do the things they want.

"Why not? We need something to headstart us for the second semester anyways." And with a princely smile, he agreed to his friend's favor that made his friend group hoot and holler.

And as Alpheus keeps a steady smile yet an annoyed glare, he wishes for something to happen in that party to shut them up.

Music blazing, party raving, drinks boozing.

It's the party of the month for the students in the University Alpheus attended.

People cannonballing in the pool, couples and strangers making out (maybe more), stragglers drinking their way to being blackout...

And the owner of the mansion?

Alpheus sits down cross legged on the couch, being surrounded by his friends. The music is pounding against his ears and worsening his headache. But he also can't sleep in his room because he knows that no matter how thick his walls are, the music will still seep into his bedroom.

He takes a sip of the bourbon on his hand, his deep eyes scanning the crowd and the mess they made.

He almost groaned. This is gonna take a while to clean.

Sure, he'll hire people to clean, but his parents' will question where the money will go to, and they will nag to him about being upright and being a rebel and throwing parties and being a disgrace and being so content being a genius that he thinks he can just throw his parents' reputation to the mud--

Just thinking about it is making him exhausted.

He watched as the woman that latched onto his side trailed her finger on his exposed chest from unbuttoning his dress shirt. She was saying something flirtatious but honestly, he doesn't care.

The headache is becoming unbearable.

"Excuse me, people. I just need to get more." Alpheus gently laid off the woman before shaking the glass on his hand, the ice clinking around.

They all nodded with a smile before Alpheus went inside.

There are some people here. Singing karaoke, some playing beer pong... And others making out and grinding.

He got to the comfort room on the corner of the first floor and sighed, splashing water on his face as he let the water trickle down his throat.

He dropped his facade, staring at himself with the dead expression that people found chilling.

Sometimes, he just needs a breather.

And that breather is his home. But now, a party is going on and he needed a bit of break sometimes.

Hey, he's emotionless, not a robot that doesn't get exhausted.

Alpheus splashed water on his face once more before he heard the door to the toilet open.

A woman.

He remembers you. A classmate, one of the few people who doesn't talk to him and ask favors, so he automatically has a positive outlook on you. As positive a person can feel for being emotionless.

He nods, you didn't.

"Y/N, right?" He asks, quickly slipping on the facade. He smiled at you, donning the princely mask once more.

You weren't buying it though.

"Alpheus. What's up with you and putting up a front?"

His forearm bulged, the grip on the counter sink tightened as the veins pulsed across his arm.

Ah, he forgot. You have this inquisitive, curious, yet hostile look on your face whenever he catches you staring at him.

"What do you mean by that?" He smiled once more.

"You know what I mean."

He cleared his throat, dropping the act and turning towards you, not facing the mirror anymore.

"Look here, Y/N. It just so happens that I get tired sometimes." He shrugs. "Social battery and that."

"Bullshit." You spat out. "You don't even feel anything. You think I won't know? It's so obvious."

A dull feeling of irritation welled up inside of him. Uncommon, but not that new.

"Really now? So what?" Alpheus scoffs and crosses his arms. "What will you do? Expose me?"

His eyes sharpened a bit.

Should I get rid of her?

"No. I need a favor also." You smiled. He sighed.

"Shoot."

"Be my pretend boyfriend."

Alpheus blinked, tilting his head in wonder.

"Huh. That's new. And what do you need me for? Why do I need to do that?" He softly chuckles, thinking of reasons why. "Are you attracted to me and are finding a reason to get close to me? Possibly make me fall for you?"

He got close to you, bending a bit to stare at your eyes.

Were your eyes always this shiny? Such a juxtaposition of his dull, dead ones.

"Maybe you have this sick fantasy in your head that you can fix me." He chuckled again.

"No. That's weird." You scoffed and swatted him away. "Ex boyfriend problem. A stalker, won't stop following me around."

He hummed in contentment. He did remember seeing a man hovering around your angered/scared face.

"That I can believe. But why me, cheri?" He asked, intrigued by your favor. "There's a lot of people, and it's kinda suspicious if we suddenly became an item."

You took a deep breath, shaking your hands.

"Don't get mad, but I sprinkled some hints that I was interested in you. Making fake convos of us..." You flushed red and fished your phone out of your pocket and showing him the convos.

The pfp is the same, so does the name, but the way he types isn't the same. Clearly fake.

"I know, creepy, but..." You gripped your hand in awkwardness. "But the other guys aren't really the best options. He got them on a hold like he's friends with them. And you're the only one available that's not close to him. I also don't know other people outside our block."

Your grip tightened. "So help me, please?"

A man in a leather jacket seethed, not being able to find you.

"Where are you, Y/N!" He grumbled under his breath.

He lost you an hour ago, and he's already on his end's wits.

Especially you're in this mansion. Alpheus' mansion.

Sure, he didn't believe that you and Alpheus were a thing. It was impossible! There's evidences, but he doesn't want to believe it.

He gritted his teeth and opened another door but to only two people fucking.

"God, get a room!" He growled out before being hit by a pillow, being yelled at that 'this is a room!'

Slamming the door closed, he got to the corner where there is a door beside an end table with an expensive flower vase on top.

He gripped the knob and swung it open, and his eyes widened.

"Alpheus..."

"Cheri, just like that..."

You and Alpheus, making out. With you sitting on the counter as your crotches grinding against each other in a friction filled frenzy. With Alpheus' large hands and fingers gripping your soft skin on your waist, leaving red marks trailing across. Your legs, wrapped around Alpheus' waist, had the dress riddled up to your chest area, exposing your tasteful underwear.

Alpheus' lips trailed across your neck, opening slightly to lick the base before biting down. It made you throw your head back with a whimper so salacious that it made Alpheus buck into you once more.

The man felt cold and hot at the same time.

It was real?

You can't even hear that your ex has swung the door open. Drunk on the "pretend" makeout' pleasure that it gave you. You just knew he's in the house, but doesn't know when he'll find you.

So, Alpheus just made you sit on the counter and started kissing you gently just in case.

Who knew it would become a full, blown out session that left you breathless and Alpheus suddenly obsessed with this new feeling?

Alpheus' dead eyes was flashing with hunger and desire in them as he glared at your ex boyfriend.

And without breaking any eye contact, he gripped your waist more, with his hips grinding harder and his teeth sinking more to your skin, marking you his.

Saliva dripped from his lips to your skin, making it glisten under the dim light.

And with a smirk, Alpheus successfully drove out your ex.

Now, he could just stop.

But what's the fun in that?

For the first time, he's feeling such pleasure from you, and your body.

You felt divine in his hold, making it impossible to separate himself from your body as he gripped your thigh and carrying you up, pushing your back against the wall to continue making out, and maybe even more.

He can blame it on the alcohol, but he knows damn well it's not.

He felt... Happy for the first time. The overwhelming euphoria from this new encounter and discovering new feelings were making him drunk. And he's drinking it whole.

It's almost selfish on how he doesn't want to let go of you.

And, before he knew it, the seed has planted inside of him.

By the next days, he finds himself unable to separate from you as you continued to introduce new emotions inside of him.

He will wish to shackle you to him, and maybe do the same as his brother and kidnap his significant other.

He will feel overtly jealous for the first time, seeing you interact with his other male classmates. Especially that architecture is a male dominant field.

He will get angry, rage, and become crazy from the sudden influx of emotions running inside of him.

But that's in the future.

And as he watches you writhe from his hold as his fingers descended down under your panties, he knew that he would do anything to keep this feeling from fading.

[thebiggerbear]

"I hate you." "You have a weird way of showing that." - Tom Hanniger Prompt Response

Summary: You went to visit Tom in the mines for a little Valentine's Day fun. Who knew that one decision would lead to everything that's happened? Will you be able to help Tom or will he be lost to you forever?

Pairing: Tom Hanniger x Female!Reader; Tom Hanniger x Sarah Mercer; implied past Deputy Martin x Female!Reader

A/N: Prompt from @creativepromptsforwriting (#941). This was so much fun to write. I just love this character and there is so much to explore with him. I also really love the dynamic between him and the reader in this one. Hope it came out alright.

I decided to give Deputy Martin a name. He deserves one. Also, I loved Tom and Sarah at the beginning of the movie. I had actually been hoping Sarah would leave Axel and be with Tom again until it was revealed that he was the one doing the killings. That grocery store scene when they see each other again for the first time after a decade...it broke my heart in the best way. Jensen and Jaime did a great job (Kerr too though I hated his character the entire time lol). So I kind of feel a little guilty here but I had to throw in the Sarah factor; not trying to crap on their relationship, I promise.

I tried my best do my research and be respectful in regards to DID (Dissociative Identity Disorder) but also keep this a few years post-movie (2009) while also staying within the context the movie provided but also explore a bit, if that makes sense. Please note I do not work in the psychiatry, psychology, or medical fields. If I got anything appallingly incorrect about this disorder, its symptoms, its treaments, anything, please let me know. Also, I think it goes without saying (but I’ll say it anyway), not every single person who has been diagnosed with DID is violent or a threat to others nor are their alters violent or a threat to others. Obviously, this is just a work of fanfiction based on a fictional story where the main character had an alter that was violent and a threat to everyone. No harm or disrespect is intended with this fanfiction at all.

There is a note at the end.

This takes place pre-movie, all throughout it, and post-movie.

Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

Warnings: violence; description of injuries; blood; sex (smut-light); angst; mentions of murder; semi-hostage situation; threats of harm/murder; psychiatric hospital treatment (I'm not sure if that's an actual warning or if it should be but I'm putting it in case)

Sidenote: I'm sure we all know this but I'm putting here in case anyway: if you ever go into any mines or similar underground structure, please always wear your hardhat and do what your guides/experts tell you/follow the rules to stay safe.

Word Count: 11k+

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel

Tom Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat; @deansbbyx

You can read on AO3

"I hate you." "You have a weird way of showing that."

Soldier Boy version ✨ Beau version ✨ Dean version ✨ Jenny version ✨ Jason version ✨ CJ version ✨ Rachel version ✨ Anael version ✨ SDV Leah version ✨ Alec version

You pulled up outside of Tunnel 5 in your car, your friends laughing and cheering as you parked. You weren’t as excited to be here but they managed to talk you into it. 

A Valentine’s Day party was happening in Tunnel 5 and most people your age were going to be there. Why they had decided on a tunnel in the Hanniger mines as the primo party spot you had no idea. If there was one thing you had learned in your life so far, people were weird and most college-aged kids would party wherever, whenever. Especially in a small town like this one.

You got out of the car, heading towards the trunk, ignoring the dibs your friend Destiny was calling on every hot single guy to your other two friends, Carina and Taylor. You handed six packs of beer out to each of them before grabbing the last one and shutting the trunk lid.

“You okay, Y/N?”

You glanced up to find Carina watching you while Destiny and Taylor were waiting impatiently to get to the party. You forced a smile. “Yeah, I’m okay, Rina. Promise.” She knew how hard this might be for you and you appreciated her checking in with you. She returned your smile and turned to follow your two other friends, with you close behind her. 

You passed a few cars until a familiar tall figure entered your vision, sans his usual ball cap. You watched as Tom Hanniger opened the back door of his truck, searching for something. You moved a little closer to Carina and discreetly handed her your six-pack. “I’ll catch up,” you whispered.

She glanced over to where you were staring and gave you a look. “Y/N…”

“I’ll be fine, Rina. You go ahead. I’ll catch up with you guys in a few.”

She seemed uncertain but nodded, doing as you asked. You watched her hurry to catch up to Destiny and Taylor, and then you turned your attention back on Tom. You waited for two people to pass by before you made your way over to him.

He had a six-pack in his hand but he was standing stock still, almost as if he was lost in thought. You then watched as he put the beer back down, holding a hand to the side of his car, and you could tell he was taking a deep breath. Your heart broke for him a little. This couldn’t be easy for him, being here, and being back here especially. You wondered what had prompted him to come here and then you realized, your heart breaking a little further: Sarah.

You pressed your lips together and decided to get this over with. “Hey, Tom,” you called softly.

He spun around, surprised to see you. “Y/N…hey.”

You took him in and you hoped your pain wasn’t showing through. He looked good for the most part, still handsome, still tall and statuesque, his figure being cut from playing football. The only difference you could make out was the nerves that were plain as day though he tried to hide them from you. “How are you?”

He shrugged. “I’m doing alright, I guess. How about you? I hear congratulations are in order. You got into med school. I always knew you would.”

“Thanks,” you whispered. You had worked hard in school, filled up your interim semesters with classes to help you get closer to graduation, studied like hell for the MCAT, and got into the med school of your choice — well, one of them — just like you’d been hoping for the longest time. “Are you here alone?”

“No, uh, I’m here with…” He gestured back towards the tunnel.

“Sarah,” you supplied.

“Yeah.” You could see some of his discomfort showing through. “Sarah.”

You attempted a smile. “That’s good.”

He nodded but didn’t say anything, just kept his eyes trained on the hat in his hand.

You wished things weren’t so awkward now between you. They never used to be.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, his eyes lifting to yours. “For how things turned out. I never meant— I never meant for any of this to happen.” You could see the regret in them, an echo of some of your own regret.

“I know,” you whispered, your eyes burning at the corners. “I’m sorry, too.”

And you really were. Perhaps if you had been a better girlfriend a year ago — a better person even — you both wouldn’t be here now, feeling as if the blood on your hands would never wash away.

It was Valentine’s Day and you knew Tom was working in the mines all day. He still promised to take you out afterwards, once he’d gotten a chance to shower and clean up. You were looking forward to it.

You had no idea when the thought popped into your head but once it did, it took root and stayed there. Until you found yourself visiting him at the mines. Of course, you’d gotten a lot of dirty and suspicious looks as you dressed in a miner’s uniform and plopped a hard hat on your head (it was the rules). Some guy you forgot the name of the second you’d been introduced to took you down in a cart. While you weren’t crazy about going further underground, you told yourself that once you were with Tom, you would be safe. And it would all be worth it once he saw the present you had for him. 

You got to your stop, the guy called for Tom to come down and mentioned he had a visitor, and not too long after, Tom appeared. You grinned at him when you saw the look of surprise on your boyfriend’s face. 

“What the— What the hell are you doing here, sweetheart?”

“Surprise!” You hugged him as fiercely as you could with his equipment on him. 

He shook his head, smiling as he took in your outfit. “You came all the way down here just to surprise me?”

“Of course I did.”

“But sweetheart, it’s not safe.”

“Don’t tell me that, Tom. I worry about you enough being down here as it is. And don’t worry, I won’t be long.” You smirked up at him and he immediately got your meaning. 

He uncomfortably cleared his throat. “I can take it from here, Fred. I’ll call a cart down when she’s ready to go back up or you if you’re still around. Thanks.”

Fred shook his head, most likely knowing what you two were up to. “I’ll be over in 3 if you need me,” he gruffed out. You both watched as the cart disappeared down the shaft.

“Sweetheart, you really shouldn’t have come down. It’s not safe,” Tom told you but you could feel his hand resting on the seat of your uniform. 

“I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” He smiled. “What kind of surprise?” 

“You’ll see,” you teased. “Is there somewhere we can go?”

He glanced around quickly before taking your hand. “Yeah, there’s a place. Come on.” He led you back up the shaft a little ways and into a pocket, hidden from view. He whisked off his hard hat and yours before eagerly pulling you to him, making you giggle into his mouth. 

“I’ve never had a girl visit me at the mines before,” he murmured, kissing your jaw. 

“And you better never have any girl other than me coming to see you.” You playfully poked his chest in warning.

“No other girl for me,” he whispered to your lips before kissing you again. “You’re it. Always.”

“Awww.” You began to unzip your uniform, wanting to give him his present already. Something sweet like that deserved a reward. 

He pulled back to help you and once the top half was off, his brows drew together in mock confusion. “My surprise is your jogging sweats? I really appreciate the thought, sweetheart, but you could’ve given that to me later tonight and not risked coming down here.”

You swatted at his shoulder, making him snicker, as you slowly unzipped your top half. His eyes followed the trail of the zipper and they widened when you opened the shirt and pushed it back to your shoulders. You smirked, seeing his reaction. He wasn’t laughing or making fun now.

Underneath your sweats, you wore new lingerie you had bought just for this moment. It was a red and white lacy bra that had hearts all over it, ending in a cut-out heart design over your breasts, with a little bow holding it altogether. “You like?”

“I like.” He trailed a finger along the edge of the cut-out heart. “I like it a lot.” He twirled the ribbon over his finger, smirking over at you. “Do I get to unwrap you?” He teased.

You shrugged. “It is your present. Don’t forget about the bottom half, too.” You pushed down your uniform and sweats to reveal similar looking underwear. “But the tie’s at the back.” You leaned forward slightly so he could see. He grinned as he ran a hand over the cut-out heart shape back there, tugging at the ribbon playfully. “So you like your surprise?”

“I love my surprise.” He kissed you as he untied the underwear and let them fall forward into his waiting hand. He stuck them into the pocket of his mining uniform and you felt him begin to touch you in the way he knew you liked. He groaned into your mouth when he felt you. “You’re all ready for me.”

“Of course,” you hummed. “I never half-ass a present.”

He brought his hand down on your bare ass cheek in a slap, making you squeal, and squeezed it. “No, you do not.” He stuck his tongue back into your mouth and you worked to get his uniform unzipped and off of him. He had untied your bra and he broke away from you to take one of your nipples into his mouth. You gasped and arched your head back, your fingers gripping the back of his hair to hold him to you. You let out a moan while he nibbled away at you. He had you on the edge already and he’d barely touched you.

You pulled him back up to you, kissing him deeply, as you started working on his belt. You had just worked his jeans down enough so you could pull him out to stroke him when his hand stopped you. “Sweetheart, wait, wait.”

You pouted. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t have a condom.”

You smirked. “Is that all?”

“Is that all? Uh, yeah, and that’s a problem. My wallet’s in my locker up top. I know we usually just…you know, if we don’t have them, but uh, I’m not going to lie, I really want to enjoy my present right now,” he ended with a nervous laugh. “Every inch of it.” He slapped your ass cheek again and leaned forward, nipping at your breast before kissing the sting away.

“Well, then it’s your lucky day that I’m the world's most amazing girlfriend, Tom Hanniger.” You reached into the pocket of your jacket and pulled out two condoms, holding them up in front of his face. 

He glanced up at you in awe. “You really are.” He snatched the condoms from you, putting one into his pocket and opening the other. You leaned in and kissed the spot underneath his ear while he got ready for you. “I told you,” you murmured. “I never half-ass a present. Happy Valentine’s Day, baby.”

He turned to look at you, holding you steady as he made sure your uniform was covering your back. He began to slip into you and you both groaned by the time he bottomed out, he was a few inches above your lips, smiling. “Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart.” He then kissed you and began to give you what you both wanted.

It was quick, hurried, frenzied even. As much as you loved each other, this wasn’t the time or place to take your time. You both could be caught at any moment, it was dangerous like Tom said… You could take your time with each other later. 

Tom had to cover your mouth when you came and you’d had to cover his when he crossed the finish line. You’d felt every grunt sound he made against your palm and it only turned you on more. You almost wished you had forgotten the condoms but you knew Tom wouldn’t be deep inside you right now if you had. Tom was adamant about protection, just like you were, but you loved him and trusted him. Plus, you had been on the pill for years but you knew Eli Hanniger had drilled it into his son’s head to always cover it up unless he wanted some girl to put him in a position someday where he’d be trapped into a marriage and forced to share half his money. You tried not to take it too personally when Eli had looked over at you after that little nugget of his own brand of wisdom on one of the many nights Tom had to pick his drunken dad up from the local bar. 

Eli couldn’t have been more wrong. You loved Tom but you also had your own goals in life that you didn’t want deterred by parenthood earlier than expected. Not to mention, Tom could be the poorest guy in town and you would still love him and want to be with him. You’d loved Tom since you were five, ever since he’d seen you crying because all of the markers were gone in kindergarten class and everyone was making a picture but you. He came over to give you the red one he’d been using with a cute smile that was meant to reassure you. You’d smiled back at him, sniffling, your face wet, as you both worked together to make a picture. You’d been close ever since. 

Once you were in high school, things changed between you. You’d had to watch as he dated girl after girl until finally junior year came. You changed up your look a little, didn’t have your nose stuck in a book every other minute, and the guys began to slowly take notice of you. Tom had been jealous when you told him you were going on a date with one of his teammates. You two had been arguing in his car when he leaned over and kissed you out of the blue. Needless to say, you had canceled that date and Tom stopped hooking up with one of the cheerleaders he’d been casually seeing at the time.

You both were happy. You both attended the same university and you spent the holidays together with your families. Well, you and Tom spent the holidays with your family; Eli wanted no part of it. It was almost as if because you weren’t a mining family or a well-off family, you weren’t good enough for him to bother gracing you with his presence at your dinner table. Just like you weren’t good enough to be dating his son, unlike Sarah Mercer whose parents owned the grocery store in town. That was who Eli kept pushing Tom towards but Tom told his dad he didn’t have eyes for anyone but you. He loved you and someday, he wanted to marry you. Your heart warmed when you overheard him say that. Which immediately hardened when you heard his dad then say “You’re a fool. That girl just wants your money! Sarah’s an actually decent hard-working girl. You’d be better off with her than that other one.” Tom didn’t say anything else and you had gone back to the book you were reading, pretending to be caught up in it, when he came out, hurrying to take your hand and get out of there. You never let on that you’d heard what he said…and what he didn’t say. 

And you may have taken the initiative to show him how much you loved him and wanted to keep you with him. Which is why you had risked coming down here to have semi-public sex in a dangerous mine, wearing a lingerie set you would usually never be caught dead in. You had already planned to go all out that evening once you made it to the hotel room you’d reserved in town, but you also wanted to give him something to remember, something he’d never ever forget. Now, you would always be in his mind, having made your mark, no matter what might happen with your relationship. You just hoped you made a mark on his heart, too, at some point while you’d been together, and that he didn’t let his dad’s obvious prejudice against you and your family sway him away from you.

Tom’s head dropped to your shoulder as he attempted to come down from his high, trying to catch his breath. You kissed the side of his head, not caring about the damp sweat or coal mine smell coming off of him. You leaned your head up next to his ear. “I love you, Tom. I’ll love you forever,” you whispered. You knew he heard you when he squeezed you, still panting harshly against your skin.

“Always,” he whispered back to you.

You hugged him tightly then.

A little while later, you were both redressed, hardhats back on your heads as you waited for Fred to arrive with the cart to take you back up top. Tom had called Tunnel 3 to ask him to come back for you. He had his arms around you from behind and he was smiling down at you. “Thank you for my present,” he murmured. Unable to really kiss you or nuzzle you thanks to the hardhats, he pressed a kiss to your shoulder and tightened his arms around you. 

“I’ve got another one for later.”

He turned to look at you quizzically which then turned into a glimmer of hope.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “I bought another set. Deep red and more ribbons.” You wiggled an eyebrow playfully at him.

“I fucking love you.” His smile was bright as he carefully leaned in to kiss your neck, making you giggle. 

“Hey, lovebirds!” You both looked up to see Fred turning the corner a little further down the shaft, having a clear view of the two of you. “Break it up! I haven’t had my lunch yet and I don’t want it spoiled!”

Tom rolled his eyes but let you go. “Ha ha, Fred. Very funny.” 

Fred came to a stop in front of you, scowling at both of you. “Time to go.”

You hugged Tom quickly and then climbed into the cart. He had his hands out around you, ready to assist you if need be. Once you were settled inside, Tom hurriedly took his hat off and leaned in to kiss you. 

“Hey, hey! Put your hat back on, Tom! Don’t be even more of an idiot! This whole thing could come down at any time, you know.”

Tom kept peppering your lips with kisses, making you laugh and him smile, before he finally heeded Fred’s warning. He straightened up and slipped his hardhat back on, grabbing your hand and kissing it. “Take care of my girl, Fred. Get her back safe.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Fred muttered and started up the cart. 

Tom walked beside you, still holding your hand. “I can’t wait for later.”

You smirked. “I know you can’t.”

His cheeks darkened a little and he gave you a sheepish smile, letting out a laugh. “That, too, but I was talking about our date. I think you’re really going to love the place I picked out for us.”

Your smirk melted into a genuine smile. “I know I will because I love anything that comes from you.” You heard Fred snort next to you but you couldn’t care less. So what if you were being cheesy? It was Valentine’s Day and you meant what you said.

Tom’s smile grew and you could see it reaching his eyes. “I love you.” You both noticed you were about to make a turn that he couldn’t follow you down. He kissed your hand one more time and let you go. “See you tonight.”

“See you then. I love you, too,” you called back to him. You watched as he got further and further away, the last thing you saw being him holding his hand up in a wave as he smiled. You waved back before the cart completed the turn and he completely disappeared from your view. 

The date didn’t end up happening due to the collapse that happened later. Word of it spread fast once it happened and even though you knew Tom should be home by then, you still worried. Thankfully, he returned your call ten minutes later and told you what happened. You rushed right over to be with him, all plans for the night forgotten, though Eli was less than pleased. Apparently, word of your visit had spread around the mines well before you had made it to the top. 

“That girl is a problem!” Eli yelled. “She’s reckless! And now she’s made you reckless!”

Tom let go of your hand and jumped to his feet. “Don’t talk about her like that!”

You got up and hugged Tom’s arm, rubbing his shoulder soothingly. “Shhh,” you murmured. “Don’t. It’s not worth it. Okay?”

Eli didn’t like seeing that. His face got red and he was louder than before. “It’s like I’ve been telling you! That girl is only after one thing and that’s your money! When are you going to wake up, start using the other brain God gave you, and see it for yourself?” He threw his glass of Scotch at the wall, making you wince at the shattering sound, and left in a huff.

Tom went to follow him, to yell back at him, but you kept him there. “Don’t worry about it. It’s fine. He’s upset. Here, sit with me.” Tom did as you urged and you rested your chin on his shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He glanced over at you, his eyes glassy. “I think I really fucked up, Y/N.”

“What do you mean?”

“After you left, I went back to work. I was in the cage, adjusting my gear, when the condom and your underwear fell out. I forgot I had them. I picked them up as fast as I could and stuffed them back in but Harry Warden saw.” He shook his head. “He gave me a hard time about doing my job and I told him I had it, I knew what I was doing. They now think he’s one of the miners trapped. He’s unaccounted for.” He compulsively swallowed and turned to look at you, a tear rolling down his cheek. “I forgot to bleed the lines,” he whispered.

Your eyes couldn’t get any wider if they tried. You reached out to wipe his tear away as you tried to rein in your reaction. 

“I was thinking about our date tonight, about you, and I got distracted. I forgot to do the one thing I’m supposed to do every day before I leave. This collapse happened because of me,” he choked out before breaking down. You pulled him into you, holding him and shushing him, whispering reassurances to him. All while the heavy truth settled down around you and began to constrict your chest. It wasn’t Tom’s fault; it was yours.

It didn’t surprise you one bit a few weeks later when Tom broke up with you. He explained it as there was a lot happening, he was being blamed for the murders of the other miners that Harry committed, and his dad told him he just needed to continue working and keep his head down. No distractions. Which meant no more you, though Tom never actually said it but you knew that’s what he was implying Eli had told him.

It broke your heart when he broke it off between you but you understood. Tom had basically become a pariah overnight. Once he admitted to the investigators that he forgot to bleed the lines, the town he’d lived in his whole life turned against him. Harry may have done the actual killing, but it was Tom who’d put Harry in that position in the first place, or so they’d said. Some folks even gave you dirty looks in town as well but it was nothing compared to how Tom was treated. While you loved him and wanted to stay together, you could understand if he needed some space. You let him go with a hug, telling him you were still around if he needed a friendly ear, trying your best not to let any tears fall so you wouldn’t make him feel worse. His jaw had clenched but he nodded, choked out a “Thanks”, and walked to his car. You watched as he left, remembering back to the image of him getting further and further away from the mine cart you were in. Once he disappeared down the street, you finally let out the tears you’d been holding onto. A sob tore its way out of your throat when you remembered he had held up his hand in a wave, smiling, while you smiled and waved back. Because all you could think about was what you thought in that moment: Let this be the last time we separate like this. 

And as luck and Eli Hanniger would have it, in the next month or so, rumors spread that Tom Hanniger was now dating Sarah Mercer. You didn’t want to believe them, to believe that he’d finally pushed you aside for one of the girls you’d both grown up with who always had a gooey-eyed expression for Tom, the girl his father had wanted him to date in the first place. You didn’t want to believe that he would be so quick to throw away what the two of you had just to make his father happy. But deep down, you knew it was true. Tom had always wanted to get his father’s approval and he always had a soft spot for Sarah so why wouldn’t it be true? You could even understand a little, considering what had happened and Tom was in the hot seat with every resident of Harmony, thanks to you. But it still hurt like hell. You still loved him enough, though, to hope that he was happy. 

You pushed those thoughts out of your head. No use in continuing to blame yourself now. It didn’t change anything. “Are you okay…being here?”

He seemed a little caught off guard at the change of subject but then he glanced back at the tunnel entrance. “Yeah.” He turned back to you. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

You nodded and dropped your gaze to the ground, not sure what else to say. 

“Did you bring your hardhat this time?”

Your head snapped up and he was giving you half a smile, his eyes having that familiar teasing gleam in them. You couldn’t help but smile back, appreciating the attempt at levity and familiarity. “Did you?”

He snickered and shook his head, biting at his lip.

You chuckled and took a step closer. “How are you really, Tom?”

His smile faded. “Better.” He then briefly dropped his eyes. “Sarah. She helps.”

Your smile dropped altogether and you could feel that stinging sensation in your eyes again. “Oh.” You bit the inside of your cheek to keep tears from welling up. You didn’t even know what to say to that. “I’m glad, I guess.”

His expression fell and he took a step closer. “I didn’t mean—”

You took a step backwards, your hand up. “It’s okay. Really. I’m happy that she’s able to do that for you.” You took a breath. “I should go. Rina and the girls are waiting on me, so… Good to see you, Tom. I’m glad you’re doing well.” You gave him a wan smile and turned to leave.

“Y/N, wait. Y/N.”

You continued walking, eager to put some distance between you two until you could rein in your emotions. While Tom and Sarah might go off in their own section of the mine, you also might have to see them together. And you needed to prepare for that, especially with your last memories of the time you were here and all that occurred after. 

You were halfway to the entrance when you heard a scream. You stopped short, wondering if it had just been someone fooling around and having fun though it sounded terrified. You heard it again and before you knew it, people were running out of the tunnel at a fast speed, hurrying to their cars. “Oh no,” you gasped when you realized something was wrong, thinking another collapse must have happened. “Rina.” 

You were just about to run towards the tunnel when a strong hand gripped your arm, whipping you around to face Tom. “I don’t know what this is,” he said. “But get out of here. Go back to your car and get the hell away. As fast as you can.”

“What? No! I can’t leave! Rina, Taylor, and Destiny are in there! We came together!”

He framed your face with his hands. “Y/N, listen to me. You need to go. It could be another collapse.” He released you and urged you to go.

“No! I told you, I—”

Just then there were more screams as more people ran out. Tom turned back to you. “I have to go get Sarah. Run back to your car, Y/N! Do the same as these people! I’ll catch up with you later!”

Your eyes widened. “What? No, Tom! If you’re telling me not to go in, you’re not going, either!”

He went to answer you when a guy running past you yelled, “There’s some crazy guy in there killing everybody! Run!”

You and Tom glanced at one another, both shocked. Neither of you knew who the guy was talking about or why this was happening. But that didn’t matter. Screw holding your tears back. “Tom,” you sobbed. “I can’t lose you, okay? I know you want to go save Sarah but she’s probably hiding somewhere with Rina and the girls and they’ll be safe, okay?” You knew that probably wasn’t the case and it was wrong of you not to let him run in to help but you were terrified of losing him. “Please, don’t go in! Please!”

“I’ve got to go! I’ve got to get her! I’m sorry!” He yanked his arm out of your grip and turned to leave.

“I’m going, too! I can help!” 

You didn’t make it two feet until you were picked up and placed back down in front of Tom who was ducking his head to look you in the eye. “I can’t lose you, either, okay? I need to know you’re safe. Please, sweetheart, go get in your car and drive out of here.” He picked up a flashlight someone had dropped while running. “I’m going to get Sarah and get out of here myself. If I see Rina and the others, I’ll grab them, too. I’ll meet you at the hospital. There’s probably going to be a lot of people who need help.”

“That’s why I should stay. I may be pre-med but I can—”

He huffed out a breath and leaned down to kiss you. As he had probably planned, it stunned you. He placed his forehead against yours. “Go, baby,” he murmured. “To the hospital. We’ll be right behind you.”

Before you could say anything else, he hightailed it down to the tunnel, running past people who were still spilling out of the entrance but in fewer and fewer numbers. The last thing you saw was him disappearing inside before you turned and ran back to your car. You didn’t feel right leaving, especially with your friends and Tom still in the tunnel, but you would do as he asked. You’d already selfishly distracted him once; you wouldn’t do so again.     

You rang the bell of the Hanniger household for the third time, feeling impatience and worry gnawing at you. 

You shouldn’t have been surprised when a swaying Eli finally opened the door or that it was only 1:00 in the afternoon yet he was this inebriated. If he were a better man — a better father even — you might feel sorry for him. His mines weren’t doing too well these days. 

“What do you want?” He slurred out.

You lifted your chin. “I’m here to see your son.”

He snorted. “You mean my fuckup of a son?” He held the door wider in invitation.

You stepped in before he could change his mind. “No, your son. Not his fuckup of a father,” you spat before storming off to find Tom. 

“Sure, come into my house and talk to me like that! You kids have no goddamn respect these days!” He yelled.

You spun around and yelled back, “Go and get another drink, Eli! That’s all you care about anyway!”

“You little bitch!”

You ignored him and ran upstairs to Tom’s room. You found the door closed and you gently knocked. “Tom?”

No answer. 

You knocked again. “Tom, it’s me.” You briefly closed your eyes, remembering things were different than they had been the last time you were here. “Y/N.”

A moment later, Tom opened the door and stood there. He did not look well. He had deep, dark circles under his eyes as if he hadn’t slept since what happened. His face was drawn, pale, and it was obvious he hadn’t shaved for a bit. His hair looked as if he had just recently run his fingers through it. He was in a hoodie, sweat pants, and socks. It was hard to tell in this light but it looked like he had lost a little weight.

“Hey.” His voice sounded rough, as if he either hadn’t been using it for a while or he had been yelling and near losing it. You hoped it was the former. If it was the latter, then that could mean possible night terrors and you didn’t want that for him. 

“Hey. Is it okay if I come in?”

He nodded and walked away, leaving the door open. After you closed it behind you, you noticed he was trying to cover the messy bed with the blanket. You noticed a stale smell, as if a window hadn’t been opened in some time, and you spied dirty plates spotting the landscape of his room. You also took note of a half-empty bottle of liquor on his desk. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting company.”

“That’s okay. Don’t worry about it” You laid a tentative hand on his back as he moved and was pleased to see him not immediately shirk it off. After what happened with Harry Warden in the tunnel, for a while he hadn’t wanted anyone touching him. “I just came to see how you’re doing.”

“Not great,” he muttered, turning to sit on his bed. You took a seat next to him, waiting for him to elaborate. “I don’t know what to do, Y/N,” he eventually confessed. “I see him everywhere. I see him when I sleep, I see him when I’m awake. I see him everywhere I go, no matter who’s around, night or day. I don’t know what to do.”

Harry had woken from his coma that night and gone on a killing spree. First at the hospital and then at the mines. Right to the Valentine’s Day party that was being thrown. He didn’t care who he came across, Harry killed them one by one. Sadly, Destiny and Taylor hadn’t made it. Rina had; she was injured but she’d survived. Sarah, Axel, and Irene made it, too, though they were traumatized. They were all traumatized, just like Tom. Tom, who had gone back for Sarah, urged her to run out of there with Axel, and had nearly gotten killed for it. When you thought about how close you came to losing him… You really didn’t want to think about it.

You carefully placed a hand on his bicep and when he didn’t tense, you rubbed your thumb back and forth soothingly. “Have you given any more thought to seeing someone…and talking about it?”

He pulled away from you and ran a hand down his face. “They’re just going to think I’m crazy and want to throw me on meds.”

“Maybe not,” you whispered. “You’ve been traumatized, Tom. They might give you medication to help you sleep but trauma isn’t something that has a magic cure all. I’m not a doctor but I would think that they’ll probably recommend therapy. I mean, is Harry…talking to you when you see him?”

“No, Y/N, I’m not hearing voices in my head if that’s what  you’re asking,” he snapped before getting up and walking away.

“Tom, that’s not what I— I’m sorry, I know you’re not hearing voices. I was only trying to make you feel better by ruling it out. That’s all.”

He shook his head and ran his hand through his hair. He glanced down at you, his jaw tight. “I’m glad you came here today. You should know, I’ve decided to leave town.”

You were immediately on your feet. “And go where?”

He shrugged. “Wherever that isn’t here.” He moved over to the bed and threw off one corner of the blanket to reveal a bag he had been packing. “I can’t stay here, Y/N. It’s too much. Maybe if I can get far enough away…”

“He won’t follow you,” you finished, still staring at the half-packed bag. You almost had to wonder if he would have told you if you hadn’t shown up today. He hid the bag from you for a reason; he knew you wouldn’t want him to leave.

You should’ve known it was coming to this or Tom would have a full on breakdown. First, he broke up with Sarah. Then he withdrew from the public altogether. Now, he was holed up in his room, never leaving it, and repeatedly being terrified and thus re-traumatized each time he saw Harry. Something had to give; he needed to get out of here. 

You felt a lump forming in your throat at the idea of him leaving but you swallowed it back down just as fast. This wasn’t about you. If this was what Tom needed, you would support him. You met his gaze. “Will you call me once you get to where you’re going? Just so I know you made it safely and that you’re okay?”

His eyes softened and he came towards you, cupping your face. “You’ve always understood me. Better than anyone else in this goddamn town.” You noticed he didn’t answer your question and you had a feeling that he planned to leave permanently, never looking back. This time, you couldn’t prevent the lump from forming in your throat or the tears building in your eyes.

“Are you going to be okay?” You nearly winced at the breaks in your voice.

“I will be,” he whispered before pulling you into him and pressing a kiss to the side of your head. Sighing into your ear, he hugged you tightly. “I will be.”

You burrowed into him further, whispering against his shirt, “I love you, Tom. I’ll love you forever.”

You knew he heard you when he murmured back to you, “I love you, too, sweetheart. Always will.” You could hear the breaks in his own voice but still, you smiled. As painful as this was going to be, as heartbreaking as it was, Tom still loved you, just as much as you loved him. Always…and forever.

You were just finishing up notes in a patient file when someone knocked on your open door and stuck their head into your office. You glanced up to find a familiar face and smiled.

“Well, if it isn’t Dr. Y/L/N,” he said, waltzing in.

You closed the file and took off your glasses. “Well, if it isn’t Deputy Martin,” you laughed. He handed you a cup of coffee. “Aww, thank you. You don’t know how much I needed this.” 

“No problem. You still take it that way, right?”

You took a sip. “I do,” you smiled. 

“So, how’s things in the world of psychiatry?” He took a seat on the edge of your desk.

“Interesting. As always. How about you? How’s things in the law enforcement world?”

“Interesting. As always.”

You chuckled and took another sip of your coffee. “So, what brings you to my side of the hospital? And bearing gifts, no less?”

He shrugged. “I was in the neighborhood and figured I’d check in.”

“Oh? That’s nice.” Chris pressed his lips together and you tilted your head at him, knowing what that little tic meant. “Uh oh. What’s going on?”

He smirked, shaking his head. “I hate it when you do that.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Then don’t be so obvious. I know you too well, Chris. Come on, tell me. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I just… I was wondering if you knew that Tom was back in town.”

Your smile immediately dropped and you placed the coffee down. You put your glasses back on and opened the file back up, holding the pen in your hand as you glanced over your notes. “Yeah. I heard he was here.”  

How could you not? It was a small town after all. News and gossip spread faster than wildfire here. The word on the street was that Tom was back to sell the mines and no one was happy about that.

When you didn’t hear anything else, you glanced up to find Chris giving you a knowing look. “What?”

“Has he been by to see you?”

Well, that hurt. You knew Chris wasn’t asking you that to hurt you but it didn’t mean the question still didn’t cause you pain. You shook your head and went back to your file. “No. And I don’t expect he will be.” 

Ben had already complained down at the local bar, before Tom even showed up, that the damn kid was going to sell the mines and Eli would be turning over in his grave if he knew. He was only coming into town to sign the paperwork and then he’d be off again to God knew where. He’d even assured everyone he switched the paper signing until the Monday following Tom’s arrival, in hopes that he could get him to change his mind. 

When you heard Tom was coming back, you didn’t get your hopes up though your heart lightened at the news. You hadn’t seen or heard from Tom in ten years. He’d literally pulled a disappearing act. While you expected it, it still hurt that he never once called or wrote to you to let you know that he was still alive. Not once.

Besides, you already knew who he’d dropped in to see the minute he hit town. You supposed one needed groceries and toiletries, that sort of thing, if they were going to stay for a weekend they hadn’t initially planned on. And the fact that Sarah now ran the store and was there practically all day every day was just a coincidence.

You knew better of course and you couldn’t pretend like it didn’t break your heart just a little more. So, no, you didn’t expect to see him at all. And as much as it hurt to admit it to yourself, it was probably for the best. 

While a part of you still loved Tom and always would, you now had the benefits of maturity, age, and experience. When you looked back on your relationship, it had been one of intense young love and folly for you, first love even. And while you had more compassion and understanding along with a more detached view of things through a different lens now, you could admit there were some things that occurred that weren’t so great. For example, your decision to surprise him in the mines for a Valentine’s Day quickie, all because you loved him so much and was desperate to do whatever it took to keep him with you. You’d put both of you at risk and while Tom was an adult who was responsible for his own decisions, you still took responsibility for being the one to initiate the whole thing. It had been your idea after all. Then there had been his breaking it off with you and choosing to date Sarah not even a month later. While he was single and an adult, free to make his own decisions, the fact that he did it partially to please his father was not an okay reason in your book to hurt you and toss you aside as if you meant nothing. As the adage went, hindsight was truly 20/20. You were no longer that young, foolish girl anymore. If Tom wanted to see you, he would see you. If he didn’t, then he didn’t. It was that simple. You weren’t going to sway things one way or the other.

“Come on, Y/N. I know you just as well. You’re telling me, you don’t hope he stops by before he skips town again?”

You smiled up at Chris. “Not in the slightest.”

You threw on your lab coat, lifting your hair out of the neckline. You twisted your hair up into a bun and stuck a pen through it. You placed your stethoscope around your neck and then traded your heels for the nurse’s shoes you kept in a desk drawer for situations like these.

There had been an explosion at the mines and it was an all hands on deck situation in the ER. So far, two survivors had been found and were being brought in. They were still clearing the mines to make sure no one else had been hurt. You were getting ready to lock up your office and head down to see what you could do to help. 

You were grabbing pens to put in your pocket, tossing a red pen back into the drawer, when out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a figure in the doorway.

“Doc,” a man gasped.

“I’m sorry. I’m about to run down to the ER. There’s been an emergency in town and all doctors are needed. I can find you a nurse if you—”

You dropped the remaining pens in your hand when you glanced up to find a bleeding Tom Hanniger standing in your doorway, holding onto his side. “Tom,” you gasped, frozen. 

His pained glare suddenly transformed into one of the most terrifying smirks you had ever seen in your life. “Guess again.” He then shut the door behind him, locking it, before he started making his way over to you. 

You rushed off the elevator, hurrying over to where a bloodied Sarah was nervously pacing in the surgery waiting room. You noticed Chris was with her as was Deputy Ferris. Sarah’s little boy, Noah, was sitting on one of the seats behind her, playing quietly with his toy.

“Sarah,” you called.

She turned to see you approaching and immediately hurried over to you, throwing her arms around you, beginning to cry. You rubbed her back soothingly and shushed her. “You’re alright now.”

Sarah pulled back out of your embrace. “Tom, he’s… He’s gone.”

You pressed your lips together, your eyes tearing up. “I know,” you choked out. Based on what you had just seen and heard, you knew she was speaking the truth.

She hugged you again and you embraced her back tightly, tears rolling down your cheeks as you saw Chris watching you both. You squeezed your eyes shut and let out a quiet sob when you heard Sarah crying again. You both held each other as you both quietly mourned the Tom you both had loved.

You unlocked your office door and stepped inside before locking it again. You began to empty your pockets of the supplies you’d nabbed when a figure moved from behind a filing cabinet in the far corner and appeared in your vision, making you quietly gasp.

There stood Tom, still holding his wounded side. “What took so long?” He demanded.

Your jaw tightened as you remembered who you were dealing with now. “Sorry, Harry. I had to get supplies without causing any eyebrows to raise. That takes time. Now, come sit down.”  

He warily approached and sat down on the edge of the desk as you directed. You snapped gloves on and he moved his hand away from his side when you prompted him to. He hissed in pain as you began to prod at the bullet wound.

“Can you fix me up or not?” He growled.

“Well, Harry, as I told you, I’m not a surgeon. But I will do my best.” You began to gently wipe away the blood, from both the entry and exit sites. “The good news is it looks like the bullet went straight through.”

“I told you that,” he snapped.

“Yes and I’m confirming it,” you snapped back. It was very strange to have someone you hated so much inside of the body of the person you loved most. 

“Just do your goddamn job, Doc.”

You snapped up straight and looked him right in the eye. “Let’s get something straight, the only reason I’m helping you right now is because of Tom. I could care less what happens to you, you son of a bitch.”

He gave you that smirk again that made your blood run cold. “And let’s get something else straight. If you don’t fix me up, I’ll kill you. Got it?”

You didn’t answer him. Instead, you grabbed a pad of gauze, dumped some of your finest alcohol on it, and slapped it onto the injury site, making him yell out in pain. You smirked in satisfaction though inside you felt guilty. Sorry, Tom. You really wished you could expel Harry from him, like he was some sort of demon you could exorcise. 

“Sorry about that.” You were anything but. “I have to clean the site before I inspect it for further damage.”

His chest was heaving and he was glaring at you. “Just do your job, bitch. Or you’re dead,” he grunted.

You huffed out a snort and repeated the process with the exit site, making him grit his teeth, a pained yell straining against them. You proceeded to make sure there wasn’t any critical damage that you could see and then went about starting to suture the wound. You ignored the grunts and gritting of his teeth the entire time and just focused on falling back on your training. You’d barely flinched when he started drinking your booze. (it was his fault he wouldn’t let you use any needles to apply local anesthetics) When you were done, you snipped the loose tail of the sutures and then bandaged up the area. You quickly cleaned and bandaged the wounds on his face and treated any burns he might have. The entire time you did, you felt pain and remorse for Tom for each wound you found that would now scar his body. Though you supposed scars were a small price to pay considering the explosion he’d been in that could have killed him. Your jaw clenched at the thought and you hated Harry even more. 

You finished cleaning him up and threw out the last bit of bloody gauze. “It’s probably a waste of time to say this to you but you need to take it easy with that bullet wound, keep the area clean, and come back in two weeks to have the sutures removed. If any extreme bleeding occurs, you should get to the ER immediately. If the sutures pop out, you should do the same. If you start to develop a fever or other—”

“Yeah, Doc, I got it.” He slowly got to his feet and held a hand to his side. “Not bad.”

You took off your gloves and threw them to the side, crossing your arms. “Am I free to go now?”

His eyes snapped over to you and you could swear you could see a whole other person. In Tom’s eyes, the eyes you loved, you saw Harry, and they were darker and harder than Tom’s green could ever be. Tom clearly wasn’t the one in the driver’s seat, even if his behavior and personality right then weren’t already making that obvious. “For now. But if you screw me over, I’m coming back for you.” A hint of a smirk appeared on his face as if he enjoyed that idea, almost hoping you would give him the excuse. 

You knew he was waiting for you to tremble in fear at his threat but you didn’t. “Truly, Harry, I hope I never see you again.” With that, you walked out of your office and you refused to give him the satisfaction of looking back.

You knocked on the open room door and stuck your head in. “Hey,” you greeted with a small smile.

Axel and Sarah both glanced over and saw you.

“Hey.” Axel faintly smiled. 

Sarah got up and gave you another hug. You rubbed her shoulder as she returned to her seat next to her husband and you came to a stop at the foot of the bed. “So, how’s the patient?”

“He’s doing well.” Sarah smiled as she took Axel’s hand in hers. “He’ll be in here for a little while but then he can come home.” Axel turned his smile onto her. You glanced back and forth between them. Apparently, that marriage was no longer on the rocks. You were glad for Sarah’s sake, though you still thought she could do better. Despite how things went with Tom, you didn’t blame her or hold her responsible. She had always been kind to you, good to Tom, and you knew she was a decent person. You could almost understand why Tom had loved her so much.

You forced a smile onto your face. “Glad to hear it.”

Another knock on the door garnered your attention. You turned to see Chris walk in. He came to a stop next to you. “Hey, Sheriff. Sarah. Y/N.”

“Hey,” Axel greeted. You gave him a nod and Sarah gave him a smile.

He turned to look at you but you were already steps ahead of him. “Did you do as I asked?”

He nodded. “Picked him up about an hour ago. Had to ask for that town’s sheriff to help but we got him. And he doesn’t know it has anything to do with you. We purposely mentioned in front of him that a store owner from that town called it in after recognizing him from the news.”

“Thanks.” He gave you another nod.

“Wait, what are you two talking about?” Axel asked. Sarah looked just as curious while also fearful.

You pressed your lips together and Chris turned to face his boss. “We picked up Tom Hanniger in the next town over. We have him in custody and we’re starting processing.”

Both of their eyes went wide. “Tom’s alive?” Sarah gasped.

The deputy exchanged glances with you. “In a way but he goes by Harry now.”

“Shit,” Axel breathed. “You need to call in every reinforcement. We don’t have the manpower to hold him.”

Chris held up a placating hand. “It’s already done but trust me, we’ve got him locked down. As it is, the DA and the Judge are deciding what to do with him.” He looked over at you.

“Deciding what to do with him? What does that mean?” Axel’s eyes were on you, too.

“Harmony isn’t the place for Tom to be right now. It’s his trigger and that’s why Harry is currently in control. I’ve asked for a meeting with the DA and Judge Harrison as well as the Chief of my department to discuss Tom’s case.” You took a breath, knowing this next part wasn’t going to go over well. “We’re looking to get him moved to a maximum security psychiatric hospital up North.”

“Are you kidding me?” Axel started to sit up but grunted in pain. 

Sarah got up and gently pushed his shoulder down. “Axel, be careful. You just had major surgery yesterday.”

“Sheriff, easy. You’re still healing,” Chris chimed in. 

He ignored both of them. “After all of the people he’s killed? People are going to want justice and to see it done here in Harmony.”

You could feel an age-old anger welling up inside of you but you tried to tamp it back down. “He’s not mentally competent to stand trial, Axel.”

“Not mentally competent? Really? That’s the excuse we’re going with here? He was mentally competent when he killed those people! When he lied about it and tried to cover it up and blame me! When he attacked me and my wife, about to kill us! When killed Rosa and came for my son!” He gripped onto Sarah’s hand.

“I understand that. But the law states—”

“No offense, Y/N,” Axel interrupted. “But you’re not an expert on the law. Leave that to people like Judge Harrison who actually know the law.” Well, so much for you keeping that anger and resentment in check.

“None taken. And no offense, Axel, but you’re not an expert in psychological disorders, either. Leave that to people like myself who know what we’re talking about,” you snapped.

Chris laid a gentle hand on your shoulder and held up his other hand in Axel’s direction. “Hey, hey, now. We’re all on the same team here. We all want the same thing.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Do we?” He dropped his hand. You then glared over at Axel and Sarah. “Let’s not pretend like you two and Irene didn’t leave Tom there to die back when Harry was on a killing spree which severely traumatized him and that’s why all of this happened in the first place! That’s what started this whole thing!”

Sarah looked ashamed and stayed quiet. Your ire wasn’t really for her anyway. You knew she had been wanting to go back to help Tom before Harry threw that pickaxe. Axel, on the other hand, saw red. “Are you kidding me? We were about to be killed! I had to get her and Irene out of there! Tom would have done the same had it been him and it would’ve been the right thing to do! Regardless, it doesn’t excuse anything that Tom or Harry or whatever the fuck he calls himself now did! And us leaving him alone started this? No, let’s talk about really started this whole thing off! You decided to go down into the mines to give your boy toy a little nookie, he got distracted and forgot to clear the lines, then boom! The mines collapsed on top of Harry Warden and the others and that’s what really started this off! Because Harry wouldn’t have been in the mines a year later, killing people, and nothing would have happened to Tom or any of us! So you want to play the blame game? Look in the mirror, Y/N!” Sarah was softly telling him to stop but he ignored her. “Oh, and let’s not pretend that you’re not doing anything but trying to make excuses for the guy you’re still hung up on after all these years who didn’t give a fuck about you and dropped you like a bad habit the minute his daddy told him to! Who left you behind to rot!”

Your left eye was starting to twitch, something that only happened when you were either very stressed or very angry. Right then, it was definitely the latter. Sarah’s gaze was trained on her hand covering her husband’s and Chris was looking down at the footboard. You forced yourself to speak calmly but firmly. “That has nothing to do with this. It has to do with helping someone who needs help. I’m simply doing my job and the right thing at the same time. When was the last time you could say the same for yourself, Axel?” His jaw clenched but he stayed quiet and you gave him the worst glare you could summon up. “Get well soon.”

You turned and walked out of the room. You were right about one thing; Sarah could do better.

You were waiting for the elevator when you heard Chris come up behind you, laying a hand on your shoulder to stop you. “Hey, hey, hey.” You spun around to face him and he rubbed his thumb back and forth over the fabric of your coat. “Are you okay?”

You unclenched your jaw long enough to say, “I’m fine.”

He nodded and lowered his hand. “You know, it’s no excuse for the things he said but Axel’s in pain right now, he’s not thinking straight, and they just went through another traumatic experience of their own. And they have their son, who was there when Rosa was killed. He’s just dealing with a lot.”

“I get that, Chris. I do. But Tom didn’t do those things, Harry did.”

He sighed and put his hands on his hips. “Y/N, I’m not disagreeing with you but Tom did lie, he covered it up. Like the motel killings. Did Harry drive away from the scene, ignoring the trucker’s dead body in the lot, before we arrived or did Tom?” 

You shook your head, looking away from him.

“I know Tom means a lot to you and I respect that. I know you have history and you want to help him.” He cupped your chin and forced you to meet his eyes. “But I also care about you. I don’t want to see you get hurt. There’s a possibility that Tom himself may not be who you actually think he is. Who any of us thought he was growing up.”

You gently lowered his hand. “Chris, I appreciate your concern and I know we had…something between us for a while. And I’m grateful that you helped me earlier, I really am. But I know Tom. He’s not a killer. He’s not Harry. Harry only exists because of the trauma he suffered. He doesn’t even know who he’s killed or what’s happened. I need to get him out of this town so I can begin working to get him back.”

Chris sighed and studied you for a moment. “Then how did he know about Megan and the words written above her body?”

“He got it from the card she wrote. You told me that yourself, Chris, because Sarah told you about it.”

“No, I mean, if Tom saw the card and Harry killed Megan and wrote those words in her blood, then how did Tom know they were written above her body?”

You realized he was making a good point but that didn’t change your mission. “I don’t know, but I intend to find out.” You then got onto the elevator that had just arrived, you and Chris watching each other as the doors closed.

Tom didn’t remember how he got here. He didn’t even remember waking up. One moment, Harry was about to attack him and Sarah wouldn’t save him, again. The next moment, he was in a white t-shirt and white pajama pants, stuck in a cell that looked strangely familiar. Had he dreamt all of it? Going back to Harmony, seeing Sarah again, dealing with that asshole Axel, trying to figure out who the killer was — all of it —had it all been one big nightmare?

He soon realized that wasn’t the case. His lawyer came to see him and informed him of the things he’d been accused of (after the man had been contacted to come back and speak to his actual client). As of right now, he was found to be mentally unfit to stand trial thanks to an impassioned argument by his doctor as well as himself. But that could change at any time. Tom insisted he hadn’t done those horrific things, that Harry Warden did, but nobody seemed to believe him or was even listening.

For the first few days, Tom had been desperate. A doctor came in and met with him, asked him how he was feeling, and then fully explained the disorder he had been diagnosed with. It turned out that he had been misdiagnosed in the last institution he had been in and improperly medicated. That was why the medication never worked. They had been treating him for delusions when in reality he had Dissociative Identity Disorder. He was going to be starting a therapy regimen as soon as possible. Harry had already been involuntarily involved in the program since his arrival here. The doctor also informed him that they had to keep Harry heavily sedated but depending on how things went with Tom, they might not have to do the same with him.

Tom had been completely dumbfounded. It was bad enough that he still carried the trauma of what happened back in ‘98 and it had followed him around for a decade, literally, but now Harry had become a permanent part of him? He would now never be able to outrun Harry. Not to mention, he was now officially on the hook for multiple murders thanks to the surly son of a bitch, even after what happened in 1997 and then a year later when he woke from his coma. Tom’s body count was extensive and he himself hadn’t even done anything. Well, except forget to bleed the lines that one time which led to the collapse that then started all of this, he supposed. So maybe he truly was responsible for all of those people’s horrific deaths, whether he swung the pickaxe himself or not.

One morning before the therapy began, they came to get him and brought him to a room that looked strikingly similar to a police interrogation room, with the two-sided mirror and everything, though there was white padding on the walls. He protested when they strapped him into a straitjacket but they told him it was for his own safety as well as the doctor’s. As if that weren’t enough, two large orderlies picked corners of the room to stand in, watching his every move. 

Someone popped their head in to tell Tom his doctor would be meeting with him shortly, they were just finishing up with another patient. All Tom could do was nod. “Thanks,” he muttered.

A few minutes later, the doctor he’d been waiting for walked in. His eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw it was you. You gave him a small smile and took the seat opposite him. “Hello, Tom. I’m Dr. Y/N Y/L/N. How are we feeling today?”

“Um…okay.” He was still trying to recover from the shock of seeing you there. He hadn’t seen you since that night all of those years ago, right before he left town. He also thought you were working at Harmony Memorial last he heard, a pit stop he planned to make once he’d signed the papers to sell the mines. That is, before everything went to shit. “Y/N? What’s going on?”

“It’s Dr. Y/L/N,” you corrected. “And nothing’s going on. I’m here to evaluate you before we start your therapy regimen.” You opened a file and began glancing at the papers within. “The court requires it.”

Tom felt so lost. It had been hard enough waking up to what he did but now you were here? Clearly his doctor? And you were pretending not to know him? He didn’t know what to think or where to stick his head. “This can’t be real,” he said to himself and shook his head. “This can’t—”

“Shhh,” you soothed. “It’s okay, Tom. This is very real and we’re going to help you.” You clicked your pen and began making notes in his chart. 

“Yeah, but you— You’re— And you’re pretending like— This can’t be real.”

Your eyes snapped up to his and you stopped writing. He didn’t know what you saw but you got to your feet and circled the table. You snapped your fingers and both orderlies looked away. “Actually, Tom, there’s something I forgot to mention.” You came up behind him and his nerves began to spike. Was he about to be drugged? Attacked? Would he finally wake up from this nightmare? Maybe he’d wake up to you; he’d give anything to have that happen. 

He jumped a little when he felt your lips at his ear. “I’ll love you forever,” you whispered.

Automatically, the corner of Tom’s lips tipped up in a smile. Hearing that from you brought back so many good memories of your times together, of your relationship. He didn’t instantly relax but he felt a little lighter than he had a moment ago. 

“Welcome back, Tom. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too, sweetheart,” he whispered back to you.

His smile grew when he felt you brush a tender kiss to the side of his head before you straightened up and made your way back around the table. You snapped your fingers again and the orderlies were now facing forward, watching you both intently. 

You sat back down and picked up your pen, giving him a genuine smile. “Now, Tom, shall we get started?”

He wished he could reach across the table and take your hand in his. You still looked at him as you did all of those years ago, like he didn’t have a murderous personality that left pain and suffering and dead bodies in its wake. You still looked at him as if he was the same guy you’d given your heart and body to back in high school. The same guy you’d once told that after you finished med school (when you got in), that you’d want to settle down with him and eventually start a family with him. The same guy you said you’d move wherever whenever for him if he didn’t want to stay in Harmony, if he didn’t want to take over for his dad one day. The same guy you looked at with complete devotion, affection, and reverence that he knew he didn’t deserve. And with you looking at him just like that right now, he knew he still didn’t deserve it but God did he love you for it. You still loved him; it was clear as day in your eyes. He realized then that you had meant back then every single word of what you just said; you would love him forever. He had meant what he said to you back then, too. Though he never should’ve given you up when his old man demanded it. What the hell had he been thinking?

You arched your brows at him expectantly, almost as if you knew what he had been thinking. 

He leaned forward a little and gave you a soft smile, hoping you would understand what he was trying to tell you. “Always.”

You returned his smile, giving him a wink. You’d heard him. He began to relax and your smile then turned into a more professional one. “That’s what I like to hear. Alright, Tom. Let’s begin, shall we?”

A/N: For the record, I highly doubt Y/N could have been Tom's doctor, especially since a prosecutor could have argued that it was a conflict of interest and possibly gotten any records she'd made inadmissible. I think, anyway. But it was too fun an idea not to explore. Plus, I'm pretty sure I read somewhere that someone who has been diagnosed with DID is not incapable of being tried by the law for crimes committed, even if it was committed by one of their alters and they are completely innocent (I think). But I couldn't just have Tom go straight to jail in this one or even to trial. I wanted to focus on him coming back and Y/N helping him as well as their sort of reunion.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

[ramblingsfromthytruly]

the pages are turning~

a months old pic of my desk

29th august 2024

day 4/50 - productivity challenge

🕒 6:00 a.m.

sleep deprivation is hitting. eating leftovers and coffee for breakfast.

checked notifs

actually ate some goddamn breakfast

not me realizing that i barely eat 2 meals every school day..

revised psychology: ch-1: what is psychology

here's a (self) reminder to actually go study instead of procrastinating 30 mins by watching study motivation videos.

also i recommend listening to non-lyrical music while studying. i personally listen to classical piano music. this is what i was listening to today morning.

showered

morning skincare

extended duolingo streak

aaand off to school. thought i would be late but honestly i've been reaching at the correct time all these days. if i leave my house by 8:05 then i'm good.

at school i first had physics and then 2 continuous chemistry classes (the teacher is good but her classes are so draining ugh).

completed physics classwork (the stuff i missed when i was absent on tuesday)

did the OCEAN test in psychology class! idk why but i love personality tests. i'll discuss my results with my teacher tmr hopefully but what i gathered is that i'm an ambivert leaning to introversion and ok emotional regulation & stability. my other classmate was very much an extrovert with higher tendency to take others' words to heart. we bunked the last 2 english classes together in the library lol. also want to say that i'm so ashamed for having formed an image in my mind of her, without really knowing her that well. i cruelly judged her prematurely and though we didn't really talk about our lives and stuff, we did get closer (maybe even friends?) today and i regret my judgments. ik i would be crushed if someone thought up an image of me in their head like that and i try not to do the same but sometimes i make mistakes. i'm trying to be more aware of that.

studied psychology ch-6: human memory (in the library when i skipped english)

lightly rained the entire trip home and got much louder as i ate a hearty lunch 😋

started a word doc for biology investigatory project

started a word doc for chemistry investigatory project

me and my bestfriend have been much more honest with our feelings recently. the saying "distance makes the heart grow fonder" was actually made for us. she's in a new college all popular with new pretty friends and boys probably crushing on her and she says i'm her favourite person. i'm at a new school slowly making new friends and she's my favourite person. i told her i love her. she deserves to know that. and i meant it totally platonically and that doesn't make it any less. if anyone ever asks, "who's your first love?" i'll say her name. it'll always be her.

practiced playing keyboard 🎹

read newspaper 📰 (some of those cases make me feel sick)

post for studyblr weekly prompt

dinner. yum. noodles and cake.

made notes psychology ch-1: what is psychology?

night skincare

🕒 nope! pulled an all-nighter.. yes i have school tmr 😃 listen i do not recommend doing this shit at all. why did i do it you may ask? i don't really have any crushing deadlines as such, but i've tricked my mind into thinking my own plans are deadlines. this week my sleep has been astronomically fucked up. the weekend will be a reset (i have school on saturday 😭) and i will prioritze sleep. i need to at least manage 6-7 hours everyday.

edit: actually i fell asleep around 2 a.m. and did no other studying..

🎧 i love you, i'm sorry by gracie abrams

her songs are actually just excerpts from my journal but minus the romance unfortunately like where's my gf ugh we're wasting time

a months old pic of my desk

[izartn]

On Blue Lock, Episode Nagi movie:

It was like one of those outsider pov fics from a secondary character pov but official. Given that's one of my fave genres of fic amd I knew that about the movie coming in I enjoyed the perspective it offered, and also the melodrama of NagiReo xD

Also why was the ost so much better than in the anime itself? Did I blitz too quickly through the episodes? It made the kinda recap this was, entertaining as it got, much better. Why XD I hope that ost is in season 2.

Liked how NagiReo were the last ones to cross that door and that Ego had to bait Ngi into it. Would have messed up his 300 teens plan for Blue Lock is these two refused lol though I think he was absolutely prepared for that. Funny how Nagi is the one who gets the Blue Lock mentality despite being the reluctant of the pair.

I loled at how little the other guys in V mattered though, and at the replay of the match against Z, Nagi getting more and more fixated in Isagi and football for himself, to Reo alarm and happiness respectively.

I am not the only one who thinks Nagi is/was depressed due to a lack of challenge and isolation in his life, right? That whole, leave me I don't want to even try, just want to stay in my comfort zone idling the days away....

Going to other matters....

Also. Why did that Isagi and Bachira separation at Stage 2 look 100% more gay than it was in the anime? I swear it was the typical Shonen friendship on the season. Ah I know. Because Nagi, BL character that he is, was there remembering himself and Reo in rosy flashbacks. Hilarious taking what happened just before between them. But then Nagi is confident on their friendship in a way that Reo just isn't.

The contrast between their mental states re:change are so fucking funny in a sad way too. Reo is so insecure, compared to Nagi, I guess it comes from his family reputation and money being all he was before he meet Nagi and so he's insecure about his own merits but really. He's coping about as well as my bestie in HS did to her situationship with another girl collapsing when she was 14, that's the level of gay ass failing were talking about. That Nagi just didn't voice aloud the emotional reassuring parts to Reo during the breakup was so teenage boy of him, he just thinks he's being clear enough and then, everybody else can see Reo is just. Not manging it well. Love that they just fucking went pass Nagi being brutal to Reo on the 3vs3, like. Yes this is Nagi PoV the movie no you don't get to see what the fuck was he thinking. I personally imagine he was trying to like, do a reverse psychology on Reo, but it didn't work(?) (except it kinda did) bc Nagi has a 0 in interpersonal communication. Who knows though. Maybe the manga?

Anyways I'm really happy about that post-credits and additional time! So season 2 is gonna start from the jump after the 50 days timeskip, huh? Not surprised at all by who I saw there as the starting 11 for the U-20 match, of course our protags and company are there.

That after all the movie they end up bringing it back to NagiReo kinda having maked up, and Reo having friends/rivals telling him to quit the sad face, they're gonna be the best is soooo funny. Yes Reo you have friends, you're there on the 25 of 300 even if you're on the sidelines right now, relax XD Happy for him he seems to get friends other than Nagi, he needs more than a (boy)cough(bestie) friend.

And that was it!!! Thanks to @ashen-sky for telling me to wait for the post credits! Very appreciated given almost my whole sala walked out.

[makeste]

BnHA Volume 36 - Reaction Journey Part 2

continuing on our journey following yesterday’s volume 35 post! some more out-of-context random bullet point reactions taken from my reaction posts for each chapter. the full reactions for each chapter will go up eventually once I finish my manga catch-up marathon (currently at chapter 367).

spoiler warning: just fyi, this post will obviously feature spoilers for chapters 350-362, BUT it will also include a couple of stray spoilers from chapter 403 as well, so just a heads up for that if you aren’t fully caught up!

Chapter 351

friends, we are about to embark upon the most dramatic, theatrical, Shakespearean disaster of a fight this series has ever witnessed. brace yourselves

yes Shouto, that’s just cuz he literally doesn’t feel pain and doesn’t care if he lives or dies :’)

IS THIS PART OF THE PLAN??? IS SHOUTO NOT FIGHTING BACK BECAUSE HE’S TOO BUSY CONCENTRATING ON WHATEVER THING HE’S DOING?? BECAUSE IF NOT HOLY SHIT. YOU’RE ALLOWED TO FIGHT BACK SHOUTO

actually come to think of it, he hasn’t attacked once so far. not even the usual giant ice wall opener move. he’s definitely got something up his sleeve. but my god man in the meantime this is hard to watch

sorry Touya, but as justified as your grudge against Enji might be, your grudge against Shouto? not so much. I get it, life handed Shouto the keys to your dream life and he had the audacity to say he didn’t want to drive. but Shouto is allowed to make his own choices, and want his own things. for that matter, so are you. but you’re just stuck. gah. it’s so frustrating and yet the psychology of it is so incredibly compelling

“I might not have the clearest sense of my own identity, but at least I didn’t kill 30 people” fjdsjd gottem

“phosphor” is such a next-level attack name. pretty sure it has more to do with light than fire/heat, but with as white-hot as this attack looks to be, I get it and it definitely works

Chapter 352

love that Kaminari’s instinct when seeing this giant flaming X on Shouto’s chest is to immediately poke it. repeatedly. while Shouto just stands there and vibrates uncomfortably

finally!! a proper half-cold-half-hot ultimate supermove!! though I still don’t quite understand how “making fire that doesn’t actually burn things” is going to help in a battle in any kind of way. BUT I CAN’T WAIT TO BE PROPERLY EDUCATED

he’s thanking Deku. for helping him start to discover his true self all those eons ago. what a sweet sweet boy

omg here it comes ULTIMATE MOVE YESSSS

SLAM DUNK NAME AND VISUAL!!! 10/10!!! HELL FUCKING YEAH WAY TO LIVE UP TO THE HYPE HOLY SHIT

fuck. okay, yeah. if you give me a shounen character reminiscing over his hard-earned personal growth, and feeling profound gratitude toward his friends who helped him get this far, and then you suddenly hit me with the crying little kid panels to remind us of who these two characters really are, at the end of the day, once you strip away all the rest of it. you show me little baby Touya who’s just desperate to be loved and validated and acknowledged. and you show me little baby Shouto who understands his brother’s feelings completely, and doesn’t want to actually be here doing this, but knows that he has to because there’s no one else who can. if you go ahead and show me all of that!! well then!! I mean, good fucking job!! you knew exactly what you were doing!! well done!! you got the tears again so well done to you!! lmao

Chapter 353

okay is every single person here trying to jinx themselves now?? you guys do realize how absurdly lucky you are that Shouto finished his epic battle in the span of only 2 chapters? are you trying to draw more misfortune to yourselves??

“hey guys! great news, Todoroki already finished his fight” fdfklskf Kacchan’s gonna fucking lose it lmao. to say nothing of poor Deku who’s still busy hurtling across the Pacific

WHO IS THIS??!

lol what. he’s wearing a shirt collar and suit jacket as pants. and he’s got weird carpet hair and a disquietingly sexy face. AND FLOWER POWER?? who, is this, and why has it taken us 353 chapters to meet him. OR HER??? GENDER-AMBIGUOUS ON TOP OF EVERYTHING ELSE. YOUR FIGHT BETTER BE COOL AS HELL YOU WEIRDO

how is Spinner actually TWENTY FEET TALL NOW??? like, that earlier panel wasn’t actually a fluke or something, that was actually happening?? you smashed a bridge to pieces?!? somehow you’re a Kaijuu now???

this seriously cannot be it though, especially since Iida didn’t even get to do anything. and I really, really, really fucking hate how nervous it’s making me noooo whyyyy

Chapter 354

there is no possible way anything Endeavor tries here will actually work. he’s giving off so many dead man walking vibes right now and I am not okay

DOES FIRE EVEN WORK ON AFO?? LORD KNOWS IT DOESN’T WORK ON ANYBODY ELSE

Hawks is shouting at him lol. “remember what happened to All Might in Kamino!” for real though! how do they keep falling for it??

oh my god what a sickening realization. to learn that the reason you never found your child was that he was taken. not killed, but taken. that it was never even an accident at all, but deliberate. he was targeted and hurt and taken because of you. and the man responsible for it is standing right here in front of you

YOU HAD SIXTEEN-YEAR-OLDS??? YOU HAD MORE SUPERPOWERED OP SIXTEEN-YEAR-OLDS IN RESERVE THIS ENTIRE TIME???? AND YOU DIDN’T THINK TO USE THEM????

what’s AFO even going to do to them lol. I would love to see AFO stumble around and try to come up with some big intimidating weak-point-attacking speech for Tokoyami “The Darkness Is Where I Make My Home” Fumikage. he would probably love it. just sit there hungrily lapping it all up. “no but please keep telling me more about how tormented my soul is, this is great”

Chapter 355

I can’t believe Jirou and Tokoyami are about to fight god

I love Tokoyami and Hawks’s relationship so, so much. there’s just so much trust between the two of them. like on the surface it might seem like Hawks keeps underestimating Tokoyami every step of the way. but in reality it’s more that Hawks, being a former child soldier himself, is extremely reluctant to subject someone else to that, regardless of whether the circumstances are the same, and regardless of how capable Tokoyami keeps proving himself to be. yet another example of Hawks being continuously forced to walk a razor-thin line between decisions that he can live with, and decisions that will actually keep him alive. Tokoyami is a phenomenally powerful fighter, and his presence here absolutely helps tip the scales in their favor. but it’s also an insanely dangerous place for him to be, and so of course Hawks doesn’t want him here

meanwhile on Tokoyami’s end, he started out simply wanting to prove himself to Hawks, but once Hawks opened up to him, his exasperation almost immediately gave way to admiration and respect. and then he almost lost him at Jakku, and I think that really did a number on him, and so he’s so attached to and protective of him now. and I think that in turn has caused Hawks to try and keep his distance a little more, both because he has no idea how to deal with that emotionally, and because he doesn’t want Toko getting hurt. it’s such a delightfully complex relationship and I want to hold it and protect it with everything I have

AFO IS A BAD BITCH YES, BUT YOU ARE EVEN BADDER JIROU GET HIS ASS

lol he is REALLY cheesed about her showing him up in the previous chapter. definitely took it personally

I’m getting so many Bakugou vibes from this. legit getting chills over here. “shut your stupid mouth already.” she recognized the small dick energy a mile away

DIDN’T EVEN NEED ENDEAVOR AFTER ALL LMAO. THAT’S THE COOL, REFRESHING POWER OF JIROU

Chapter 356

AFO LITERALLY CAN’T EVEN PROCESS WHAT’S HAPPENING RIGHT NOW AND IT’S AMAZING

it’s okay to admit you just suck and are getting your ass whooped by Hawks and the sixteen-year-olds

what are you, a Zelda boss?? so he’s got a fucking phase 2 now?? WHY ARE YOU THE MOST ANNOYING MAN

DON’T DIE ENJI YOU FUCKING LOSER YOUR BOYS NEED CLOSURE AND SO DO I GODDAMMIT

ARE YOU REALLY DOING THIS WITH JUST THE ONE ARM YOU ABSOLUTE LUNATIC

anyways, wow. after getting COMPLETELY AND UTTERLY shown up by newly minted main character Jirou Kyouka, Endeavor got his moment after all. whatever else he may be, he’s a damn good fucking hero. and if anyone deserves to get punched so hard they burst into flames, it’s AFO, so yeah

Chapter 357

what a sassy little birb. like how he now has the sexy soon-to-be scar as well! you are now officially a Todoroki

YOU CAN SHOOT FIRE OUT OF YOUR EYEBALLS NOW?? YOU SHOOT LASERS?? THAT’S JUST A THING THAT YOU DO NOW???

fff Endeavor please don’t die :|!!!!

please zap AFO’s other hand!!! I am getting so freaking anxious right now. he’s either gonna win it all here or else something terrible is about to happen

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK

DID HORIKOSHI KNOW??? WHEN HE WAS DRAWING THIS??? THAT IT WAS ACTUALLY GOING TO BE THE SINGLE WORST THING ANYONE HAS EVER DRAWN!??!?!!

OH MY GOD I SCROLLED DOWN AND IT WASN'T ACTUALLY THE END OF THE CHAPTER AHHHHHH. FOR SOME REASON I JUST ASSUMED IT WAS. POSSIBLY BECAUSE ALL I WANT RIGHT NOW IS TO FLING THIS MANGA AWAY FROM ME AND INCINERATE IT WITH A BLOWTORCH

Chapter 358

did TomurAFO really just slap a huge chunk of the iconic U.A. school building to pieces with his disgusting infinityhands all unceremoniously just like that. is nothing sacred anymore. what are you gonna do next?? kill off the most popular character??

“so anyway here’s 1000 words on why me becoming a despot is actually a good thing” dude just shut up and get back to slapping shit already

KACCHAN WENT TO THE SUPPORT COURSE FOR AN UPGRADE?? AND WE WERE DEPRIVED OF THAT ENTIRE INTERACTION?! YOU’RE TELLING ME THAT KACCHAN HAS MET HATSUME MEI AND IT WAS OFFSCREENED?? I am suing this manga for wasting my life

magnificent. inspired. I can’t believe this child is going to be fucking dead like three chapters from now (˘̩̩̩ε˘̩ƪ)

THE PALPABLE FUCKING CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT!!!

FUCK YEAH KACCHAN MAKE THE BAD MAN GO BOOM

Chapter 359

is this dude actually livestreaming the battle

bitch he’s going toe to toe with the final villain while you’re down in the basement making a Tiktok. you are not the same

HIS FUCKING ARM, FUCK ME. FUCK. FUCK!!

his arm is literal splinters right now and all he cares about is that TomurAFO wasn’t impressed with his new cluster move :’’’’) it’s okay. it’s okay this is fine

this is literally Aizawa’s worst nightmare. greatest fear come to life. one of his students is hurt and in danger and he can’t do anything. Shirakumo all over again. Bakugou is about to die right in front of him and he’s so fucking desperate but he can’t do anything

omg. what a goated fucking chapter. Bakugou angst! Aizawa angst!! Aizawa Being Terrified Over An Imminent Threat to Bakugou’s Safety angst!! and to top it all off, “YOU’RE CLOSER TO MIDORIYA IZUKU THAN ANYONE AND THAT’S WHY I’M ABOUT TO MAKE YOU SUFFER” angst. hoooooooooooly shit

Chapter 360

so he’s literally just. torturing him. just fucking around. wow

WHY IS TOMURAFO JUST CONTINUING TO HAVE ALL THE TIME IN THE WORLD TO KEEP ON DOING THIS. WHERE THE FUCK ARE ALL THE REST OF THE HEROES?? FFS, DEKU’S NOT HERE TO THROW A BACKPACK THIS TIME, WHY DOES EVERYONE ELSE FUCKING SUCK SO HARD AT SAVING HIM?!

Studio Bones is gonna have to utilize some sort of AI program to autogenerate these hand things for all their fight scenes. I feel really sorry for that AI and I just hope that it doesn’t somehow develop sentience and take revenge on us all. it would be within its rights to do so

MIRIOOOOOOOO. ACTUAL BEST CHARACTER IN THE SERIES!!! YOU CAN LAUGH AT KACCHAN’S HERO NAME ALL YOU WANT YOU FUCKING STUD. YOU EARNED IT

why was this man not our vanguard. why, when we lost our trump card in the first ten seconds of the fight, did it not occur to a single person that, WELL HEY, SINCE IT LOOKS LIKE THE DEKU THING MIGHT NOT END UP WORKING OUT. WHAT IF WE JUST, YOU KNOW, MIRIO

welp. if anyone needs me. I’ll be in my room crying over fictional characters

Chapter 361

QUICKLY NOW! WHILE HE’S DISTRACTED REMEMBERING HOW HE USED TO BE CUTE AND NOT-EVIL!!

why do I feel like Mirio also got the strange, fleeting impression that he was talking to someone else other than TomurAFO for a moment there? he looks like he’s WEIRDED OUT AS ALL FUCK, but also genuinely sorry for offending him lol

JEANIST IS STANDING UP AND TRYING TO DISTRACT TOMURAFO TO PROTECT KACCHAN, I AM YET AGAIN AWASH IN FEELINGS

I know I sound like a broken record here but Tamaki, not allowed to die, etc. etc. just so we’re clear Horikoshi. I don’t trust you to remember!!

WHAT THE FUCK DID THEY FEED THIS KID BEFORE THEY WENT INTO BATTLE OMFG!!!!!!!

WHAT A TERRIFYING THING TO BEHOLD. I DON’T SEE HOW THIS IS GOING TO DO FUCKALL AGAINST TOMURAFO NO MATTER HOW EXCITED THEY ARE ABOUT IT, BUT EVEN SO, GODDAMN

Chapter 362

oh my GOD WHY DOES MY HEART ALREADY HURT SO MUCH aaaaugh I’m not going to survive this am I. Kacchan we’ll die together

did he already know?! NOBODY FUCKING TOLD ME HE ALREADY KNEW?? HE KNEW HOW IT WOULD END, AND HE WENT WILLINGLY. THE SACRIFICE PLAY, oh my god, my heart is pieces

Jeanist’s eyes are so wide and he’s using his quirk and telling Katsuki to stop. he knows. what tipped you off. was it the “take care of everyone” while standing up with sudden terrifying purpose even though he’s already half-dead. was it that. it was that wasn’t it

I AM SO NOT FINE RIGHT NOW IT’S UNBELIEVABLE

that’s it. it’s over. Horikoshi’s won. it’s all fucking over we never stood a fucking chance in hell

Kacchan’s face, when he’s not scrunching it up in a glare, or a frown, or grinning like a homicidal maniac, never ceases to just effortlessly slip past every last one of my defenses. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, he just looks so freaking young. like the schoolboy he in fact is. far, far too young to be caught up in a war and facing his own imminent death

seeing him like this now, in his own mental landscape, where he’s free to be himself, and seeing how much of a difference it makes in his demeanor almost immediately, just hits me real fucking hard. he was just way too hard on himself. and he never let himself ask for the autograph because he never felt like he fully earned it, and now it’s too late (or so he thinks), and just. guh

Kacchan dying with that much regret in his heart is not fucking okay and I wanna fight a man about it even though it didn’t even actually wind up happening sob

I love, and hate, that every single other hero there actually did try to stop it. they just weren’t fast enough. god

PUTTING HIS PARENTS THERE WAS A DICK MOVE ON HORIKOSHI’S PART. OH HELLO BAKUFAM HOW ARE YOU, AND BY THE WAY, YOUR CHILD JUST DIED. WHAT A TERRIBLE DAY FOR RAIN

[rosy-crow]

Yeah, after watching the teaser, I’m really starting to think Square is doing the Arcane thing.

I’ve been talking about it with @altocat for a while now, and I feel like it’s starting to get real. So, this is just gonna be my final theory for the story until proven otherwise.

Spoilers for Arcane: League of Legends, but for anyone that doesn’t know, basically Arcane adapted LOL and developed one of their most iconic villains, Jinx, into a very well-written character with a story that showed you exactly who she was and why she eventually lost her mind. Before this show, she was probably about as developed as Seph was in the OG.

Even though Jinx is more flamboyant and emotionally chaotic, she and Seph are weirdly similar villains from what I’ve seen. Seph reminds me a LOT of Jinx and vice-versa. I’ve even drawn them together and compared their designs—it’s funny how mad villains in video games tend to have key similar design points, even down to hair-styles and clothing, but I’ll save that for another post lol.

Anyway, from the FS teaser it looks like we have a big climax in that ultimately leads to this scene with Seph and Rosen, who have been set up to be mirrors of each other.

All I know is that the trailer showed Rosen telling Seph to make a choice about which life he wanted to save (Japanese version made this a bit clearer), and the other lives in danger are Team Glenn. Seph is gonna have to choose between them, and….well, since we know Team Glenn lives….uhh…and also….

Rosen’s dog is trying to alert the others of something. Seph made a choice or did SOMETHING, and I thiiiink it’s gonna result in Rosen’s death. Whether it was intentional or an accident, we don’t know, but it’s clear this is when sane Seph when was still good and caring, even if a little psychologically stunted and conditioned because of Shinra. He’s been consistently this way throughout the First Soldier and doesn’t change until Nibelheim.

But I get the feeling everything went wrong with Rosen. That’s why Glenn is at odds with Seph years later.

This is also why we’re getting Arcane vibes. If it’s a misunderstanding or rift caused by Seph’s intentions to save his friends…well, that’s very familiar to this notorious Arcane scene:

Basically, Jinx…or Powder, as she’s known here, makes a drastic decision to save her friends and sister from genuine danger. However, her own talents are her worst enemy, and she causes twice as much destruction as the enemies her friends were struggling with. Almost everyone ends up dead, except for Powder’s sister. It was a horrific mistake and creates a massive rift between Powder and Vi (that’s the sister).

Vi also cements the idea in Powder’s mind that she’s a “jinx” or a curse of sorts. A complex that Powder had already been struggling with, and one she later embraces as her persona.

Glenn and young Sephiroth have been established to have a bit of a brotherly relationship so far, with Glenn being the down-to-earth and honest older source of influence. There was also the whole arc between these two revolving around Glenn initially calling Sephiroth a “cyborg” as an insult to say the kid was modified and different, not a “normal human.” This lowkey came off like a deliberate reference to Sephiroth’s later meltdown over not being human, yeah?

So you guys see what I mean, the themes here are similar to Arcane and Jinx’s psychology. If Seph makes some fatal mistake or a bad choice to save his team, and they walk in on this? Or get the wrong idea? Yeah, it’s gonna turn what was supposed to be an act of heroism into something much worse. It’s also gonna be the perfect reference to Seph’s later big moment in canon…errr, Nibelheim itself, where he just embraces inhumanity and finally goes berserk against everyone’s expectations, traumatizing the main protagonist and his eventual rival in the process.

Again, the theme of “tragic mistake paralleling or foreshadowing a villain’s first deliberate act of cruelty and evil” would be VERY similar to what happens with Jinx in Arcane.

I’m not saying SE is doing this on purpose, really, but the shared themes of identity collapse and “monsters you created” between Arcane and FF7’s main “mad villains” are interesting. Their stories obviously will play out differently, but it wouldn’t surprise me if The First Soldier ultimately culminates in a life-altering decision that Sephiroth makes, one that does NOT end well and births that conflict between him and Glenn.

That’s my theory for now. These teasers are convincing me more and more. We’ll see.

[yanderestarangel]

☆Yandere Adler russell x reader☆ Concept - friends with benefits<3

Tw: Yandere themes, adult content, abusive relationship, profanity, mention of sex and dark relationship, age gap.

Adler didn't like the idea at first, let's face it, Russell is a man considered "straight" by standards. Meaning he still likes to keep labels, he really wants to know what the two of you are about not just some vague or some modern aspect.

But he accepts it for you, he's both in love and lost in his sick, messed up thoughts.

(Besides the midlife crisis lol)

The two of you start hanging out more than you used to, Adler always shows you off to everyone with pride, but you notice little red flags in this, like, Russell being extremely jealous to see you talking very nice to someone else or him lying about what you two are.

"- Are you dating now?" Asks Park, smiling amusedly, drinking a shot of vodka while the background music from the bar continued at the same pace. "- Yes"- Russell replies grabbing you and smiling looking at your face, soon seeing you walk away from him smiling at the woman and saying a "-No." After vaguely explaining the two of you's relationship, you could have sworn you saw Adler's facade darkly shift as he slammed the glass a little too hard on the table in front of him. Episodes like this weren't all that rare, Adler started off mildly, saying that he accepted just being "friends with benefits."

You at first thought it was just good sex and pampering or expensive dinners and the man's company being pleasant, but that all started to change when Adler became more possessive.

You tried to ignore it, he was a gentleman, he offered you his warm leather jacket when it was cold.

He always paid the restaurant bill even if you said he didn't have to.

He would give you gifts that you had vaguely mentioned or that he himself saw you looking at.

He took you to the best parties he could, even though he didn't like most of them, he loved seeing you happy watching that show you wanted so much.

Or when he offered to take you on a not so dangerous mission in a country you always wanted to visit.

You knew the shit Adler did, but it was none of your business.

Many times when it was a very dangerous mission he always warned you in two ways:

1- left a message on your cell phone, something like: "Hey my beautiful thing, I need to do something today, I'm going to another country, I don't know when I'll be back but I promise to try to bring you a present, take care and stay well please ." or a phone call well before you go.

2- He would go an hour before going to your house, most of the time it was at dawn, and he would honk at your door or he himself would enter your house waking you up and saying sweetly that he needed to go, but he would come back for you.

He made you the happiest person in the world. But it didn't take away some fights you had.

Most happened because of jealousy and possession, Russell would ask passively but aggressively, who was the guy you talked so much on the phone, you said smiling a little too brightly that it was a colleague, someone younger than him but older than you.

He would look over your conversations without you even knowing and any flirting he would explode. He won't scream or hit you, Russell prefers to get your psychological.

He will ignore you and make you feel guilty or lampoon you for talking to someone else so intimately.

If you just say you're sorry and stop talking to the guy he'll hug you sweetly telling you that's all you need.

If you affront him and tell him the two of you just fuck and hook up sometimes he'll really explode, it'll be the first and only time you'll ever see Russell mad.

He will point a finger in your face telling you how much he loved you and how anyone wouldn't treat him the way he does and would just fuck you up and throw you away.

That would create a fight between you and Mason or Woods would have to be between the two of you, mostly holding Adler and trying to calm his friend down.

They'd send you away saying you were up to no good and you'd leave Adler high for hours.

Adler would go after his "colleague" but he wouldn't kill him, no no Y/N, he would threaten him and tell him to exclude you from every network of contacts possible and that if he even smelled him he would be a dead man.

Well, he really pulled away from you. After a while you and Adler would start talking again, he would apologize to you for being so selfish and would try to manipulate you into being with him again... What would work.

He would also manipulate your emotions, leading you to believe he was the best you could ever have, a powerful man and all your own.

Yandere Russell gets worse after you make a relationship with him official, taking away everything.

Freedom and autonomy. You would live with him in a nice house and be what you were born to be... Privately owned by Adler Russell, America's monster<3

[randomly--accessed--memories]

Is Alastor aware of Vox’s children - specifically his daughter?

Personally I interpret that Vox was probably a parent who played favorites [unintentional or intentional] and assuming his relationship with his son was likely strained - Vox gave his daughter more attention & affection. Making the memories pop in a bittersweet way.

I could see Alastor being conflicted, depending on if he knew about Vox’s children before he reduced his former friend turned enemy to static. Alastor assuming he was a terrible father [easy assumption because it’s… Vox lol] and feeling so disgusted with a man who already fell into his distaste. We know Alastor’s daddy issues, I can’t imagine him being comfortable with a [absent father at best, neglectful & emotionally abusive father at worst] around unless he were his little plaything.

I can think of so many ways Alastor could torture Vox psychologically with this knowledge. Gaslighting Vox into thinking a porcelain doll is actually his baby, allowing him to get attached to said doll for a while — only to shatter it right in front of him.

“Oh! Well, you can always make a new one! Haha!”

Alastor’s pettiness levels are 100% showing here as the mentality of “replacing the old with the new” that Vox used to spout out constantly is being used — in reference to his “baby”.

Of course Vox is absolutely distraught, feebly sputtering and trying to pick up the broken pieces of the doll before quickly devolving into pure rage.

“I trusted you! She’s my daughter!”

Alastor is merely grinning, laughing even. Right at Vox’s face. Vox is cursing him out using every word in the book, get violent almost immediately - and if any of the hotel residents are there all Hell will break loose.

Alastor could also just say “Oh she’s dead.” Anytime Vox asks where his daughter is… that’s a lot simple than what I just wrote lol.

But yeah neat little scenario I wanted to explore, I absolutely love love love this AU!! Everything is so well-written and thought out! I hope I didn’t write Alastor too evil, or Vox too pathetic(?) :p

- 🐚

OH JEEZ

Yeah, Vox was... not a great dad. He just wasn't around most of the time and saw his role as breadwinner as the only thing he really needed to do in order to be a Good Father™. He loved his kids in his own, self-absorbed way, but just wasn't involved with them in any meaningful manner. He was never abusive towards them but still managed to traumatize them through the constant, vicious arguments he would get into with their mother. You're right though, he did prefer Sarah (his younger child) to Thomas (his elder child) quite a bit, and she ended up with far more fond memories of him because of it.

Alastor is vaguely aware that Vox was a father when he was alive, but never felt any desire to delve into that aspect of his life. Vox lowkey compulsively overshares with the people he'd attracted to and Alastor ended up learning a lot more about Vox than he really wanted to back when they were friends. I'd never thought about how he would feel about what kind of father Vox was though– that's an interesting concept.

My HC backstory for Alastor is that he was born out of wedlock and never knew his biological father. At age 6, he and his mother left his grandparents' house and moved in with his mother's white cousin and her husband, who agreed to pretend Alastor (who was white-passing) was their son in exchange for his mother working as their maid. When Al was 11, he caught a glimpse of his mother having sex with his "adoptive father"– he'd threatened to kick her and Alastor out of the house if she didn't agree to sleep with him. He grew to loathe the man and eventually smothered him to death while he was recovering from the Spanish Flu that had swept through the house and claimed his mother's life.

With that context, I don't think Alastor would begrudge Vox for being a neglectful father that much since he just sort of sucked in a way that most men from that time period sucked. He'd see Vox's memories of his children in a similar way as he sees Vark; irrelevant and harmless, but a weak point he could easily exploit if he felt it was necessary.

The concept of the doll is fucking brutal. Al would probably be aware of how easily Vox projects memories of Sarah onto various people/things since it happens occasionally with Niffty, but I think that'd be a type of torment restricted to when he's feeling especially sadistic for whatever reason. Alastor thinks of himself as having standards, although he's willing to bend on some of them if he can think of a good justification and already wants to do it. So yeah, basically Vox's kids are off-limits until they're Not anymore.

Thank you for the compliments! I'm glad you're enjoying it! I really appreciate long, elaborate scenarios like this; they give me a chance to talk about so many different things and get me to consider elements that I hadn't previously thought of.

[rahuratna]

Helloooo, Rahu!!

I hope that life is becoming more calm again, as it’s super busy right now. I had a what-if scenario come to mind.

What if Nanami and Gojo had a student who is similar to Geto. This hypothetical student sorcerer has not consciously thought of defecting or leaving, but they are tired. Perhaps they have not witnessed the loss of their colleague’s life yet, but like Geto, they are beginning to question the point of being a sorcerer.

A combination of spite against the system, the burden of constant fighting, the intangible (if-existent) end goal.

I’m entertaining the thought of what would Nanami and Gojo do to step in because I have no doubt they would. But how would they approach this situation now that they are the adults who could help those they care about instead of when they were just students who witnessed the defection of their friend? 👀 👀

Hopefully this hypothetical is interesting! And i hope you have the time to relax with your favorite teas and snacks 💗💜💛💜💗

Hey @courtneedsleep !! Time is treading slowly towards my holiday, and I can't wait!

Do you know, when I read your ask, I immediately thought "This could have been a possibility if Junpei survived." I feel like he fits perfectly in this scenario of a student, around the same age as the main trio, who has a very different outlook on life. As much as Yuuji, Megumi and Nobara experienced their fair share of darkness in early life (to differing extents), Junpei's situation was unique with regard to both his experiences and his personality.

He was bullied. He was the underdog. He felt real rage and hatred towards others, representing a far less idealized version of the teenage demographic on the show. He was manipulated by Mahito, someone he wrongfully placed his trust in. The one light in his life, the single person who gave him unconditional love and support, was horrifically and traumatically murdered, leaving him with nothing.

If he'd survived that battle and entered Jujutsu Tech, mentors like Gojo and Nanami would have had a lot to work with in order to ensure that he didn't follow the wrong path, or give in to his hatred again. Junpei would definitely, like Geto, have an inclination towards this, having a very low opinion of humanity, and, like you mentioned, feeling like the battle they were fighting was a losing one.

There is one fundamental difference between Geto and 'hypothetical' Junpei in this scenario, though. Geto started off without hatred, but the psychological make-up for this to become a reality later. What really started Geto's downward spiral was the isolation he felt. His friends had ideas and pathways of their own to follow. Quite frankly, even though the Jujutsu world is a harsh one that defies many social norms, Geto's state of mind was NOT Gojo's or Shoko's responsibility. It should have been the adults who identified this deterioration of his mental state and taken the necessary steps to help him.

This is where adult Gojo and Nanami would have stepped in for Junpei. Maybe these two sorcerers aren't the best role models for healthy choices (LOL), but they would have taken on responsibility for such a student and done everything in their power to assist them in making sense of the world.

Furthermore, I think there is one (very powerful) aspect that trumps the influence of both Gojo and Nanami: the presence of Yuuji.

Yuuji proves himself to be the ultimate representation of boy-next-door with a spirit so full of light, life and determination, that he would be a living example to anyone in his own age group. Furthermore, Yuuji never underestimates the importance of a true support network, openly admitting that he would have never reached the pinnacle of his own power and achievement without the help of those around him.

I think that both Nanami and Gojo would see the value of having such a student work alongside Yuuji, allowing them to befriend each other and allowing them to experience the very real pull of Yuuji's kindness, magnanimity and his tenacity when it comes to helping others.

With a little push here and there from them, I think such a student would thrive in the right company, learn the true meaning of love and form bonds that would last a lifetime. Most importantly, I think characters like Yuuji, Nobara and Megumi would teach them how to find hope in a world filled with darkness and cruelty.

Thank you for another lovely ask. This one was honestly an eye opener and made me think a little more about those bitter-sweet 'what if' scenarios with Junpei.

[samstree]

What’s up readers?! How about a little show and tell? Answer these 13 questions, tag 13 lucky readers and if you’re feeling extra bookish add a shelfie! Let’s Go!

Thank you @darthwillies for the tag!

1) The Last book I read:

The Vampire Lestat. I've been slowly reading the first few Vampire Chronicles books since the TV show took over my body and soul lmao. So far this one is a lot of fun!

2) A book I recommend:

Creatures of a Day. It's a non-fiction and a good look into psychology in general and psychiatrist as a profession. Would highly recommend Irvin Yalom's other books too.

3) A book that I couldn’t put down:

The Song of Achilles. I read very slowly in English but this book had me hooked from the beginning and I finished it in one weekend. This was actually a few years ago now but I haven't had the same experience since. (If anyone knows anything that is the same but like...different, please let me know alskjdf)

4) A book I’ve read twice (or more):

This Is Going to Hurt. I really liked the humor in the book when the topic is so serious. It's about working in health care and especially in the OB ward. Witnessing life and death daily can't be easy, but Adam Kay makes it easy to read.

5) A book on my TBR:

The Red Sorghum. It's been on my TBR since it won the Nobel prize lmao. The theme is very heavy though, but anyway, one day I will read, even just for the nobel.

6) A book I’ve put down:

All the Light We Cannot See. The writing is beautiful but the WWII story just doesn't draw me in as much. Maybe one day I will go back to it.

7) A book on my wish list:

Can I put an unpublished book here? The Winds of Winter lol, if I can be cheeky for a bit. Watching House of the Dragon really just brought me back into my asoiaf era. I feel sixteen again and piecing together all the clues for the sequel and thinking about all the theories. Unfortunately it is still very much a wish list.

8) A favorite book from childhood:

Journey to the West! Who doesn't love an adventure story about four besties going on a road trip that is full of cool monsters of the week? Also the whole book is metaphor for buddhist enlightenment. So it really contains multitudes.

9) A book you would give to a friend:

Silver in the Wood. It's a short novel that I brought to a long flight and just finished in one go. It makes you feel like you've just taken a little walk in the forest. It's a light read that makes a perfect gift!

10) A book of poetry or lyrics that you own:

Does Evgenii Onegin count as poetry? It's one of my favorite reads back in university. Partly because of the adapted play I think, it is still the top theater experience I've ever had.

11) A nonfiction book you own:

When Breath Becomes Air. It was written by a surgeon about his journey battling cancer at the end of his life. It's one of the books that stayed with me, having read it after cancer being such a huge part of my life for years. I feel like I got some answers from it and would recommend everyone to read.

12) What are you currently reading:

Queen of the Damned. More sexy vampires! Some of them are even old AND sexy!

13) What are you planning on reading next?

Keep reading through the Vampire Chronicles until reason and taste fail me (or Anne Rice does). I hear people tend to stop at some point during the 12 books in the whole series. We'll see how long I last.

tagging: @kuripon @cherryjuicegf @silvipeppers @tideswept @valdomarx. No pressures of course <3