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rosie-writings · 2 months

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Back to Eden

Request: ✨anon—You and the gang investigate a haunted mansion and the reader is targeted after a joke is made that she looks like the wife in old photos. Medium/Doppleganger trope as well.

Summary: Something about Colby caught your attention, and it’s confirmed when you all learn too much about the afterlife when he brings you to investigate a murder at a haunted estate. How hard can a soul bond love?

Warnings: Murder, Vomiting, Reincarnation, Mediums, Ouija Board use, Light Angst, Soulmates trope, Colby x Reader smut, Unprotected sex, very light Dom/Sub dynamic, and Possessive Romantic Relationship/behavior

Words: 13.5k

No Y/N Used

Title is from ‘Take Me Back to Eden’ by Sleep Token

It started the day we met.

There was no room in my head to even question whether it was strange or not. Every crevice of my mind filled with him. It was fine. That was it; fine. I didn’t allow myself anything more than a skip of a heartbeat here and a blush there. Nothing more.

Only once did I allow myself to think of him as I fell asleep, but that was because we literally fell asleep hip to hip. It wasn’t anything more than necessary though. It was during an investigation and there were two beds for the five of us to sleep on unless we slept on the floor. Due to complications, we lost our second room that night, and we were too afraid to sleep separated anyway. I was on the edge of the bed, Colby in the middle, and Sam on his other side while Nate and Seth were in the other one.

And if I woke up curled around his arm and he woke up facing me sharing a pillow, we didn’t say anything about it.

I didn’t know what it was. The only logical answer was that we easily clicked. We got along fluently, and the first time we met in person, we talked about everything and cried laughing by the end of the night. I couldn’t shake this feeling, though. And it was a dangerous one.

When I looked him in the eyes the first time, it felt like I knew him.

I chalked it up to him simply being who he was. In every way, he was my type—if I even had one—so technically, anyone who looked like him could have given me these feelings. However, I knew people and had friends who looked similar to him. None of them ever made me feel a fraction of how he did.

Perhaps the morality of cognitive dissonance could have an exception.

Colby, four days ago while I coincidentally was at a tattoo appointment, messaged me:

What are you doing next week?

So, naturally, I responded:

Wow I said no more snaps and you still send selfies

He sent a rolling eyes emoji. And then:

See, the problem with no snaps is now you don’t send photos back

So I said:

Maybe that isn’t the problem but the entire point smh

What do you want from me next week?

Your appearance in a video, he replied.

Perhaps

Perhaps?

I have a lot going on

Lmao no you don’t

Excuse me? Yes I do

What are you doing in four days?

You’ve given me so much room to creatively respond to that

Bitch, what plans do you have?

To make sure I can still walk by the end of this week

???

Ten minutes later, he followed up the question marks with:

What does that mean?

What a concerning thing to say and then leave me on read, he sent.

Finally when my tattoo was finished, I sent him a selfie back.

Impatient much?

Ohhhh, he replied.

Jfc did you purposely get it in one of the most painful places?

Yes now what do you want from me next week?

We’re going to a haunted estate in Texas and we want you to come

Oh? Where in Texas?

Outside of Austin

My heart skipped at the thought. That was where we first met. I was from Texas, and there was a party for content creators I was invited to despite being smaller. I met Sam and Colby and a lot of their friends. I still remembered not minding the humid summer night as much as I typically did.

Oh okay so you want me to come

I mean yeah, we all did

Mhm sure

What are you talking about?

Funny how you’re going to Austin and you want me to come

Funny how you’re making a it a big deal

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t hold down my smile. I sat in my car, and even though the back of my knee ached with pain, it was almost numbed by the words staring back at me.

Aw if you wanted me to come with you guys on an investigation to the city we met in of course I’d say yes, how sweet

Nvm. Fuck you

I sent a heart emoji back.

He sent a middle finger emoji.

Buy me a plane ticket.

‘Colby Liked your message’

I went home with jittery hands and a beat in my step. I didn’t even have coffee yet.

It happened simultaneously. After my career took off a couple months after the party in Austin, I moved to Los Angeles to be with my best friends. Sam and Colby, two weeks prior, moved to Las Vegas. I gave them so much shit for it, but everyone knew that the girls I lived with were my main priority.

I never planned to live with anyone; I liked my own private space. But somehow these freaks changed my mind.

As I packed my bag—my flight was in a little over an hour and I hadn’t packed yet, how on brand for me—Tara lounged in my bed.

”Don’t you have your own shit to do?” I asked.

”Maybe,” she sighed pathetically. “But your bed is so comfy and your room is so clean.”

”Yeah my bed is comfy because I don’t have a bunch of shit on it.” She gasped.

”That was mean.”

”How many pairs of shoes did you sleep with last night?” She gave me the finger. “There’s your answer.”

”I can’t believe you’re leaving us for a bunch of boys.”

”Same,” I sighed. “But you know how fun these trips are to me.”

”Yeah. Sometimes I forget how much of a freak you are.”

”Uh, I’m not a freak. A spiritual nerd? Perhaps. But not a freak.” She laughed and lay back against the pillows.

“You met them in Austin, right?”

”Yes,” I said cautiously.

”And Colby asked you to come with them back to Austin?”

”Yes,” I exasperated now. “What’s wrong with that?”

”Nothing,” she shrugged. “I was just wondering when you and Colby were going on a date.”

”Oh my god.” I rolled my eyes as I zipped my suitcase before standing it up. “God forbid a woman be close friends with a man without wanting to fuck him.”

“And you have you lying eyes on.”

”My lying—Bitch, these are just my eyes!”

”And they’re fucking lying.”

”You’re an idiot. I need to go.”

”At least tell me when you guys get together.”

Finally, it was my turn to give someone the finger.

I sent Colby a selfie without a message. He quickly responded:

Now who’s sending me selfies not on snap

I wish I could unsend texts

We’re leaving soon, he said after reacting to my last message.

I didn’t respond.

There was nothing better than taking a flight home especially when my headphones were on and I was alone in my aisle. As I looked out the window and watched as we descended from the puffy winter clouds, I realized that this was one of those moments that I was ever grateful for my job. During the quiet moments, the moments alone, and the ones I get to go home with headphones on and friends waiting for me on the other side,

Something leapt within me at the thought of meeting my friends in my home city; the one where I saw them for the first time. And maybe I thought about one of the four more than the rest, but I didn’t let my brain trail too far away from me. I needed to keep my senses about me to get through this week.

Colby said it would be a big one.

Before each investigation, of course they researched the locations. He didn’t tell me anything; I wondered if it was that interesting or if he had a feeling. I had a feeling, but I always did before investigating with them.

I choked the feeling down when my Uber from the airport dropped me off at the hotel we were sharing for tonight. Well, tonight we were sleeping at the estate we were investigating and we would probably sleep through the rest of the afternoon before checkout to get to our next flight. I couldn’t decide if I was excited for it or not.

Maybe we wouldn’t sleep but wait until sunrise then hurry out to debrief in a safe diner.

Sam and Colby scheduled it so that they would be at the hotel first.

I couldn’t shake this feeling inside of me especially when the hotel room door opened and I saw Sam’s smiling face.

“Hello!”

”Sam hi!” My arms were around his neck as the door closed.

“It’s been so long since we’ve last seen you.” He led me into the room. It was work to swallow with such a dry tongue.

”I know! Didn’t mean for it to be so long.” My words died in my throat when I came around the corner and saw Colby. He sat on the bed with his phone in his hand. When he looked up at me, I could have passed out. Seeing him in person for the first time in months almost made me drop dead; my vision narrowed and I didn’t know exactly what to do with my body.

”Oh so you did decide to come after all—“

”Hey stupid,” I laughed. My heart stopped when he got off the bed. “How could I miss another opportunity of both of you running, crying, screaming, throwing up because of a little ghost hunt—“

”You’re an idiot,” Colby said as he pulled me into a hug.

”Of course that’s why you’d come back,” Sam jeered. “At least laugh at Nate and Seth too.”

”Oh no,” I scoffed as I pulled from Colby. “There will be plenty of teasing to go around.”

After, when Nate and Seth arrived and we had dinner and settled after traveling, it was time for us to make our way to the estate. It was only 20 minutes from our hotel, and the entire time, the boys bickered and told jokes while trying to introduce the viewers to the history of the estate.

“They say that Miss Johnson was a medium, and that due to the religion that was prominent in this area at the time, she was forced to be silent about her craft or be excommunicated from the city,” Sam began.

”But,” Colby took over. “Because it was one of the two ways she made a living and because she believed in it as firmly as she did, she left the community she was in. On top of being a medium, she worked as a seamstress and was very good at her job. In 1886, she was hired by the lady of the estate to make clothes for everyone who lived in it. During her time at the estate, though, it was reported that she would sneak personal belongings into the dressing rooms to communicate with spirits of the house and also keep herself cleansed from bringing any back to her guest house that was on the property. She said there were three that were most active and always made sure that guests knew that they were present even if they were new to the estate.”

”The most active spirit claimed to be Ada who was the First Lady of the estate a generation before,” Sam started again. “Apparently she died of natural causes on the estate, but before her, her husband, William, passed away from a virus he caught while traveling.”

”The weird thing about the whole story,” Colby went on. “Is that it says that Ada’s death was from natural causes, but she only lived for 48 years. That doesn’t add up unless she had an underlying disease or something that was never recorded.”

”Maybe she was saying fuck ya’ll to all the damn men she had to live with,” Nate scoffed with a sassy flick of the wrist. I rolled my eyes and looked out my window. I sat behind Sam who drove, and Nate sat in between Seth and I.

”We don’t know how she died,” Sam laughed. “Okay, back to the medium. Her story is very interesting because while she worked at the estate, she reported three ghosts even though only two people—Will and Ava—were claimed to have died there since they were the first generation to live in the estate. She claimed to have communicated with a woman ghost and a child ghost, not so much the ghost of a man.”

”Two months after Miss Johnson started gossiping with the other servants of the estate that there was a child ghost living on property, she was brutally murdered in the dressing room,” Colby said. “So the rumor is that maybe there was a child in the estate but they passed and someone wanted to cover up the death?”

”Or maybe someone wanted to cover up that the child existed in the first place,” Seth suggested.

”Which opens a lot of other question,” I quickly replied.

”Right,” Colby agreed. “So there’s a lot of nuance and sketchy things going on behind the scenes.”

”I’m not sure why Miss Johnson would have been murdered in such a violent way, though,” Sam said. “If it wasn’t to cover up whatever ghost politics she was talking about, then what was it? Because a murder that gruesome must be an act of passion, but who did she piss off that badly?”

”I guess we will find out more information when we go on that tour.”

It wasn’t the tour that intrigued me, no. Immediately when we drove on property, the hair on my arms raised. I looked over my shoulder. I watched through my window intently.

The boys goofed as we grabbed the supplies and made an intro to Sam and Colby’s video, but I tried my best to remain silent and calm.

It was like the ash trees had eyes.

”Hello!” Our tour guide greeted us as we entered the house. “Welcome to the Bateman estates, I’m Angie the current owner.”

The floorboards under my feet felt ten feet away from me.

I stepped through the threshold behind her as Sam followed me and the rest of the boys followed him. My eyes latched on to every object of the room. The cream wallpaper filled the top two thirds of the walls while dark wood paneled the bottom third. The crystal chandelier in the foyer matched the crystal and gold wall lamps on the sides of the entrances of other room. A wide wooden staircase lengthened up either side of the walls of the foyer and met together at a wide plateau where various hallways branched off. The yellow lighting rained down on us gently, and for the first time since walking up to Sam and Colby that night at the party, a sweet fragrance made itself home in the back of my throat.

Familiarity.

I looked through the left threshold. It led to a sitting area full of furnishings and a bay window that overlooked the fields to the left of the house. I looked to the right, and I looked in between Nate and Colby to see the white and clack checkered flooring. It must have been the kitchen.

“We have had numerous visitors tell us that this was the house that made them believe in the paranormal,” Angie continued. My eyes pulled into focus from the kitchen, and when they landed on the person my gaze dodged, I met eyes with Colby who already looked directly at me.

Another glance shared between us a good four seconds too long. I looked back at Angie.

”Does anyone ever say that these are good or evil spirits? Or do they feel anything weird at all?” Sam asked. I was glad someone in this house had a level head on their shoulders because mine certainly was not.

”Not at all!” Angie exclaimed. “We’ve never had an evil spirit. There’s been freaky movement though, and a few people have reported there being a trickster or sorts here, but nothing pure evil by any means.”

”That’s good that they’re nice then,” Seth said. Angie nodded.

”I’ve made my way around working at plenty of haunted hotels, houses, and such, and there’s a reason that this was the property I invested in. I’ve never felt such good and light spirits before.”

”That actually helps a lot,” Nate laughed. I looked at Colby again.

He was already smiling in my direction.

”William and Ada Bateman first moved to this estate after his job took off. They lived in the city beforehand but he needed to get out because of some issues with this job. Apparently guests who have visited this house say that there’s a woman spirit here who makes her presence very much so known by playing with hair, moving things, or making noises. Sometimes people can see a woman with a white or pink dress in the corner of their eyes.”

”Oh shit, that means she has a lot of power to make herself that known,” Nate said. Angie nodded.

”If it’s Ada, yes. She has the most power in this house.”

We continued the tour.

“This room,” the guide started slowly. We knew what lay on the other side of the door. She had already led us through the downstairs and multiple rooms upstairs. By tone of voice, we knew what happened in this one. Colby entered first behind her then Sam, Seth, me and Nate. “This room is the dressing room where Miss Johnson was murdered.” I subconsciously bit the inside of my cheek as I looked around.

There was absolutely nothing ominous about it.

I didn't anticipate the house being so open, warm, and homey. The orange glow of the lights illuminated the faded yellow and pink floral wallpaper, and the plush intricately designed yellow, cream, and red rug under us swallowed my feet whole even through my shoes. It felt like I could curl up comfortably in this room and lull to sleep by the brush of the trees below.

“Do you know why she was murdered?” Sam asked.

“They say it was because she communicated with the ghosts and made a big deal about it through the house. Apparently some of the other servants were religious and didn't like the way she tried to communicate with spirits. That's some motive, but apparently her death was never avenged.”

“Wait, they never found out who killed her?” Colby asked. Angie shook her head.

“No. They couldn't find evidence among the servants and they didn't have visitors during the time of her death. It was like it was sudden.”

“Is there a child ghost here?” My mouth ran before I could catch it, and I confidently held Angie's eye contact as the boys shot looks at me.

“Well, that was a part of the story too, we think.” We all stood silent waiting for more. “Apparently two maids especially hated Miss Johnson for bringing children into her gossip about the spirits. She started saying that a child ghost also lived in this estate even though no children had lived here. It raised suspicions among the servants. Some would spread rumors believing that there had to be a child ghost and further investigating whose baby it was and then others would not believe her and make fun of Miss Johnson.

“Two maids specifically, though, were the oldest servants of the house. They were Ada’s personal maids, and they especially did not appreciate the gossiping about children ghosts. They tried to get Miss Johnson to shut up about it and suddenly a couple months later, she was found dead.” I gawked at Annie's story.

“Wait, you're saying that the two servants who personally knew Ada and were close to her were the ones who didn't like the stories about the child ghost?” Sam gasped. Angie nodded.

“That's right.”

“What if Ada had a baby and it died when it was young? Why would they want to cover it up? Was it with another man?” Seth asked.

“There are no records of a baby ever being born here. Except for one photo.” My stomach dropped at the thought. “There's a photo of Ada and a baby in the lord and lady’s room playing with the baby. The thing is, Will is behind them sitting and watching happily. The only record we have of the baby is one where both parents seem happy that they have her.

“Now, there's no evidence for this and I usually don't talk about this because I'm not on one to stir the pot really, but apparently there were political issues behind the scenes of William’s work. There was a lot of tension especially since the Civil War had ended, and William was against slavery the entire time, so when it was abolished, there were a lot of people who held a grudge with him because of where they lived. It kind of made him a target considering his business was also quite successful so he had money and power too.”

”Do you think someone killed the baby then to get back at him?” Sam asked.

”The politics in his work were brutal. It was either that or someone didn’t want him having an heir.”

“Can we see photos?” I asked.

”Yeah,” Angie said as she led us from the room. “We were headed there next.”

The next room was the primary bedroom. Seth followed Angie and Sam and Nate followed him. I was at Colby’s side, and when it was our turn to walk through the door, I went in front of him.

The second I took a step towards the door, my heart raced, clammy sweat rose to my hairline, and a chill swept through me.

”Holy shit—“ My eyes widened in fear and I froze in my place at the scared tone of Colby’s voice.

”What?” Sam gasped when he heard that tone as well and he turned to look at us. “Oh fuck!”

“What?” I cried. “Everyone’s looking at me and freaking out—”

”There’s a strand of your hair that’s literally raising up by itself like someone is lifting it—Oh.” Right as Colby pointed it out, the hair dropped like whoever it was that held my hair walked away.

”What the fuck was that?” Seth cried.

“Probably Ada.” My eyes widened. Makes her presence very much so known by playing with hair, was what Angie just told us downstairs.

”No way!” Colby laughed as we entered the rest of the way in. “Wait, that's crazy, did you feel it?” I shook my head.

”No, not at all.”

”She’s never violent. In fact, a lot of times, she’s so gentle with the things she does that sometimes we can’t tell if it’s her or not.”

I looked around the room and blinked furiously.

The chill didn’t leave me.

The sweat didn’t leave.

Welcome back.

”Wait,” I gasped. Then all eyes were on me. In a panic, as I returned to myself for a minute, I cowered in and turned to Colby.

”What’s wrong?” Sam asked. I gave Colby a look.

”No-No, keep going it’s fine,” he said.

When I heard Angie’s voice again, I started telling him.

”Did you hear that?” I asked him so quietly that my mouth made more sound than my voice. His eyes widened.

”No? What—“

”I don’t think I heard it audibly, but you know when a voice just comes in your head and it isn’t your own and it’s so sure of itself that it has to be something else?”

”Actually yeah,” he gasped. “Wait, you have that too?” I nodded furiously.

”Yes! All the damn time, it’s annoying.”

”Sam said he hadn’t had that before.”

”Anyway,” I sighed and swallowed tightly. “When we walked in, I had a cold chill, I was sweating, and then I heard it in my head like that, something that said ‘welcome back’ and—“ Colby’s eyes widened in fear as he stared at me then he looked at Sam who already analyzed us on the other side of the room. “And I could just be making things up or something, but I swear to god—“

”You feel like you’ve been here before?” Hesitantly, I nodded. “Alright. I do to, I didn’t tell them that though.”

”What?” I gasped. “Why didn’t you?”

”Why didn’t you?” My silence answered the question. “Yeah that’s what I thought.”

”What’s happening?” Sam finally broke his silence.

“We’ll talk about it in a little,” Colby determined with finality, and we tuned in to the rest of the tour.

”These are all the photos we have left that were taken at this estate,” Angie said, and on the left wall of the room, between two large windows that overlooked the field and the lake, were almost two dozen photos on the wall. At first it was hard to see. The sun nearly set, and these were west facing windows, so orange bands of bright light shot through the room.

My only thought was to curl up in the middle of the bed.

It looked incredibly soft with the layers of intricately stitched cream blankets and pillows; I could take the hardest nap nestled in the middle of it. The plush rug under my feet nearly lulled me to sleep like the last room as I made my way over to the photos. The boys followed, and Angie began speaking about the significant ones.

”This is William, that’s Ada, and those are some of the servants, and that was taken in the fields with the dogs—“

I couldn’t remember the rest of what she said. My eyes never left William’s photo. I wasn’t sure I was breathing anymore, not when a familiar feeling washed over me.

Not when the same feeling I had when I looked at Colby in the eyes rained down on me the moment I looked at this photo in the eyes.

”Oh my god,” Seth laughed. “Wait, look at this one. It looks so stupid; looks like you,” he called out my name and it snapped my attention back to him. I glared at him as he laughed.

”Whatever, asshole,” I said. I looked at the photo lower on the wall. It must have been Ada. She was in the garden with what looked to be her maids, but she relaxed with them and smiled and made silly faces. My heart skipped again.

”Wait,” Colby said ever so quietly. My heart skipped again. I looked at him. His eyes never let the photo in front of him. I followed his gaze, it was Ada’s photo. “You do look like her, don’t you?” I really looked at Ada now.

”I—“ I stumbled over my words. I was about to mock him, but the thoughts died in my throat when I realized that I did, in fact, look similar to her.

“Oh my god, she does!” Sam said.

”Ada is most active in this room,” Angie said from behind us. “People also report hearing voices and a baby’s cry, and also seeing apparitions here or down the hallway coming in this direction.”

”Oh, so people have seen figures too?” Seth asked.

“They have,” Angie said. “People say that places where frequent birth and death are the most active for spirits, and since this is the room that’s most active, we suspect that Ada passed in this room, probably gave birth in this room. But a lot of the exact details and history of this estate are hidden.” I couldn’t take my eyes off the bed. When Colby’s hand gently held onto my elbow to lead me out of the room with everyone else, goosebumps trailed over my skin in the wake of his touch. What was wrong with me?

”So,” Angie began the end of the tour as we entered the foyer again. “If you are wanting to get as in touch with the spirits of the house as possible, I recommend doing your thing in the kitchen, the dressing room, and the primary bedroom, but, of course, everywhere has a chance of activity.”

”Thank you so much!” Sam told her, and after our final goodbyes, the five of us were left in the house alone.

”Alright,” Sam spoke to the camera. “We’re going to have to leave a music box in the hallway upstairs outside of the primary room.”

”Definitely,” Seth agreed.

“Maybe, if you guys are up for it, we can do a little bit of a seance in the dressing room or primary room?”

”Jesus Christ, I knew you were going to fucking say that,” Nate groaned.

”Of all places, it’s the safest to do it here. Have you felt the demons? There are none!”

That, of all things, was true. Not an ounce of dark energy or fear intimidated me through the entire tour, and the rest must have agreed because we planned a seance in the primary room at three am.

”I think I’m going to volunteer Seth to do the Estes method,” Colby said as he fished supplies out of his backpack.

”Why am I always the Estes method bait?” He whined.

“Because the ghosts like you,” Colby sighed as he tossed Seth headphones. “You should be thankful. They don’t like me as much. Let’s get the rem pod and ask spirits some questions first.”

Immediately as the rem pod turned on, it lit up.

”Is it messed up?” Colby asked. Sam recalibrated it. It continued the beeping and flashing of lights even as Sam got up and stood next to us. “Damn, maybe not.”

”If there’s a spirit here with us could you possibly walk away from the lights? It’s our device to communicate—“

The rem pod turned off.

I looked at Sam with bright eyes as he turned to me as well.

”Thank you, and to make sure you’re actually listening and can hear us, can you step close to the red device again?”

Immediately the lights turned on. My heart pounded as my eyes fixated on the empty space around the pod.

”Thank you so much, I’m Sam and these are my friends. We wanted to ask the spirits in this house some questions, light up the device for yes or turn it off for no, would that be alright?”

The lights didn’t end.

”Awesome, hi I’m Seth. Is this Ada?”

The lights turned off.

”No,” he gasped. “Is this William?” They didn’t turn on. “Is this Miss Johnson?”

The rem pod shrilled to life. I gasped and looked at the others.

”Hi Miss Johnson,” he said.

”This is so freaky, how is it so exact?” I whispered to Colby who stood on the other side of me.

”I don’t fucking know,” he laughed.

”We were wondering if you were willing to tell us a bit about the house?” The lights stayed on. “Perfect. You’re really active, is there something you want to tell us eventually tonight?”

The lights still stayed on. It must have been an accident.

”Ask a controlled question just in case,” I mumbled.

”Did you work as a chef in the house?” Colby asked. The lights turned off.

”Well shit,” Sam laughed. “Were you the gardener?” Still no lights.

”Were you the seamstress?” I asked and the rem pod woke to life again.

“People say that you were a medium as well, is that true?” The rem pod stayed on after Sam’s question. “Is that the reason you’re so active?” The lights didn’t turn off.

”Do Will and Ada live here still?” The rem pod stopped then started again. Colby shot Sam a confused look.

”Do they sometimes live here?” Yes. “Do you mean that they can come and go as they please?” Also yes. “No way,” Sam gasped as he turned back to Colby. “That means there’s a vortex or a hotspot or something in this house.”

”We should find it and ask questions there,” Nate said.

“Thanks for talking to us, Miss Johnson. You can follow us around the house tonight if you’d like.”

And Sam turned off the rem pod.

”First one to find the vortex has to do the Estes method in it,” Colby said.

”Bitch, you’re saying that like it’s a reward,” Nate snapped back.

”Someone’s bound to find it—“

”Found it.” We spun on our heels and noticed that Seth was missing.

“Seth?” Sam called.

”Over here.” We followed the voice around the corner of the kitchen and walked back into the foyer. He stood in between the two staircases and on the walls across from each other, there were two mirrors.

”Wow, it’s almost as if the house chose you to do the Estes method,” I jeered.

”Fuck ya’ll, I was actually trying to look for it unlike you bums who stood around bickering about not doing it.”

”It was literally right in front of us,” Sam sighed before he reached for the spirit box in his backpack. “Alright, someone go get a chair.”

A minute later, Colby came back with a chair and placed it in between the mirrors.

”I hate you guys, for the record.”

”We figured the hate hadn’t left since the Conjuring house.” Seth gave Sam the finger as he pulled the blindfold over his eyes.

”If there’s any spirit in the house, you’re welcome to come talk to Seth through the spirit box,” Colby called loudly.

“Loud,” Seth immediately said in that monotone voice. We all whirled our gazes to him.

”What’s loud?”

”Colby.” The room froze.

”You said my name,” Colby said. “Do you know me?”

”Know you.”

”Do you know all of us?” Silence. I could almost make out the flipping of channels under the noise canceling headphones.

“Come.”

”Where do you want us to go?”

”Follow me.”

“Who are we talking—“

A loud noise from upstairs cut Colby off.

Then the music box started playing. I looked up the stairs immediately, but saw nothing as the chilling music sang down to us. We all gawked at each other in silence.

”Was-Was that in the dressing room?”

“It was!” Sam gasped quietly at Nate’s faint question.

”Are you in the dressing room?”

”Maybe.”

”What’s your name?”

”Come find out.”

”Uh,” Sam said as he slowly turned to Colby. “I thought there weren’t evil spirits here. Why does this feel weird?” Colby shook his head.

”I mean, a full on murder happened in this house so like, there has to be some kind of residual negative energy,” Colby replied.

”Could just be a trickster, though, like she said,” I intervened.

”That’s true,” Sam said. “Maybe we should go where it’s asking us to go to—“

”Bedroom.” Seth’s single word cut our conversation short.

”Get him out,” Sam said as he looked back at Colby. “We’re going to the primary room.”

I sat at the foot of the bed. My right foot rested on the bed in front of me, and I messed with the shoelaces. My hands were busy; they needed something for my brain to stay grounded.

I watched as the boys set up the Estes method again for Seth and also placed the rem pod in the middle of the room. The bedroom door was open so that we could hear the music box.

“Alright,” Sam sighed as he sat in the middle of the rug between the rem pod and Seth who sat in the chair. His bright eyes looked up at Seth expectantly. “It’s really not weird here, is it?” He asked. Seth shook his head.

”No, it isn’t, actually,” Colby said.

”I really don’t think it’s evil. If there’s any spirits in the house who would like to—“

The rem pod shrilled to life.

“Alright then, let’s go,” Colby said, and Seth pulled on the blindfold.

“Are you Miss Johnson?” The rem pod didn’t turn off. “Are you Ada?” The rem pod stopped.

”Here,” Seth said. Sam looked at Colby quickly.

”There could be more than one; maybe everyone’s here.”

“We came.”

”Oh, yeah I did call you guys.”

”You,” Seth’s monotone voice responded to Colby.

”Me? Or who—“

”Colby.” The room fell still as we stared back and forth between each other.

”You-You said my name—Did any of you say my name since being here?” Colby asked as he turned to each of us.

“It’s been hours, I’m not sure,” I said slowly.

“You,” Seth repeated.

”I know,” Colby said. “What about me?”

“Not quite what… I didn’t get the rest of that.”

”Not quite, what?” Sam asked. ”Miss Johnson, you said you were a medium, was there something about the Bateman’s you found out but shouldn’t have known about?” A few beats of silence passed.

”I’m sorry to say,” Seth cut the silence.

”What did you find out that you were sorry about?”

“I’m not mad at all about it. Holy shit, that was a full sentence.”

“What are you not mad about?” Colby asked.

“You were sick.” My eyebrows rose in question, and I turned to the three to see what they thought that meant.

”Who was sick? Who do you mean by you?” Sam asked.

”I told you.”

”Colby?” He clarified. “Are you talking about last year?”

”Not quite what… It was the same sentence I missed before.”

“Not quite…” Sam mumbled in thought. “I’m confused.”

”Is there a child ghost here?” I asked.

“Certainly.”

“No way,” Nate gasped. “Literally answered that immediately.”

I saw a shadow from the corner of my eye.

And then the music box.

I leapt, though, before the music box went off, and the boys also jumped as I scared them.

“What the fuck was that?” Colby asked me. My heart pounded in my chest as I looked to where I saw the shadow run by.

It would have been child height in the hallway running past the door.

The music box turned off.

”I-I—It’s okay—”

”No, what was it?” Colby pushed on. I looked up at him, and I supposed that my wide eyes and pale face was enough proof for him to believe me.

”There-There was—I saw a shadow run by. How did you not see it? You would have seen it perfectly from where you are.”

”I didn’t see anything.”

”She literally jumped before the music box went off,” Nate confirmed.

”What was—”

”Child.”

”That was the child?” Sam gasped.

”Yes.”

”Who else is here? Miss Johnson, the child, Will and Ada?”

”There’s more.”

”More?” Colby gasped, and Sam looked up at him with wide fearful eyes.

”Who else?”

”Visitors.”

”No, no,” Colby gasped as the pieces fit together. He stood away from where he leaned against the bed next to me and pointed at Sam. “That’s what it told us; there’s a vortex and they can go and come as they please. I bet spirits can travel to this house and leave it.”

”You’re totally right,” Sam said. “Can you tell us who—“

”It doesn't matter.”

”Why doesn’t it matter?”

”Because… Because—I didn’t catch that—welcome back.”

My vision pounded to black and my heart fell out of my ass,

”Welcome—Who are you welcoming back?”

”Colby.” The three of us looked at Colby with wide eyes.

”I’ve not been here before.”

”Before.”

”Before what?”

The room was silent for a while.

Nate sucked in a breath to say something, but Seth cut him off.

”Death.”

”What?” Sam gasped. “The fuck does that mean?”

“It said-It said you were here before death, is that what it said?” Nate asked.

At that point, my heart tied in my throat, and I couldn’t dare look in Colby’s direction. I knew he looked at me.

”Um, when was I here—“

”Long time ago.”

“To a ghost, a long time ago could mean a lot different than what it means to us,” Sam said.

”It’s you.”

”Who’s you?”

Seth said my name.

No, the spirit box said my name; it was so vivid and loud in the headphones, that I caught the unmistakable syllables of the word. I wondered if I passed out because I didn’t remember much of the Estes method after that.

There was no other explanation for how this ghost knew my name. Perhaps Sam and Colby’s names were familiar with the ghosts, but not mine.

“Get him out.”

It was over before I could process what happened.

”Why did it say her name though?” Sam asked and Colby looked back at him with no answers.

“And why the fuck did it say ‘it’s you?’ What an ominous thing to say,” Nate said.

”Just before it said that Colby had been here before death. What does that mean?” Sam’s voice raised and I flinched. I turned from them.

There was an ache.

An ache that cut so deep in my chest, I wondered if the bone cracked. Tears welled in my eyes.

”What-What’s wrong?” I heard Colby’s voice. I took a step away from them.

And when I accidentally let out a sob, I heard Colby push Seth away.

”Cut the cameras.”

I didn’t like that tone in his voice.

He knew.

It sounded like he was about to cry as well.

”What is it?” He asked as I left the room, he was on my heels. I shook my head as I wiped the few tears that fell.

”Colby,” I said with a tense jaw. He stopped.

We stood alone on the plateau that overlooked the foyer. I slowly turned to him. I looked at him.

He looked at me.

We didn’t say anything.

I couldn’t think of the words to say, and I visibly saw the softness of realization in his eyes—or something adjacent to that—and he swallowed tightly.

”I remember this.”

”Colby?” I heard my name next. I looked past Colby as Sam came up slowly. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

Those weren’t the questions I had, no.

I wondered, what did Colby remember?

Did he taste the familiarity in the air like I did?

Did he feel the cathartic peacefulness like I did?

Did he see the extra presence like I did?

We gathered our things and went into the dressing room to prepare for our three am seance.

”I’m thinking we could start soon,” Sam said softly. I checked my phone. 2:30am. “I know it’s early, but it’s already been so damn active. I bet Miss Johnson is with—“

The spirit box in his backpack turned on by itself.

”Yeah, she’s here,” Seth sighed, to which Colby burst out laughing.

The lights were off.

Five candles were around us as we placed the ouija board in the middle. A ring of salt encompassed us all. Colby sat nearly across from me; Sam in between us with Nate to my left and Seth in between him and Colby.

”The devices you guys have been playing with all night are around the room,” Sam announced. “You can mess with them if you’d like, but we would really appreciate communicating directly with one of you with this board.” He looked at us and we each put our fingers on the planchette. ”Did a spirit follow us in here?”

It took a few seconds, but the planchette moved to yes.

”Is this spirit Miss Johnson still?”

It didn’t move.

”Hi Miss Johnson, thanks for talking to us all night. Sorry if we’re being redundant—“

The planchette began to circle around the yes.

”Okay,” he laughed, and I couldn’t tell if he thought it was funny or he was intimidated. “We want to know more about the exact history of what went down in this room. Were you murdered in this room?” The planchette stayed on yes.

But then it drifted away. It slowly moved without motive.

“Do you know why you were murdered?” The planchette circled back to yes. “Were you murdered because the people in this house did not like that you were a medium?”

”Look—“ Nate said, and we watched as the planchette made its way to the letters.

I tried to rationalize if this was happening, because I absolutely wasn’t moving the wood. I looked at Colby. He looked at me from already examining Nate. I couldn’t look away from him. What a time to—

“T,” Sam mumbled.

What a time to fawn over him, how he looked under the dim candlelight, when I was supposed to be spooked from the presence of ghosts. I looked back at the board. My mouth went dry as it went to the third letter.

”Sam,” Colby mumbled in caution.

”It said stop.”

”Do you want us to close off this session?” Sam asked.

The planchette slowly made its way over to No.

”No?” He asked. “Do you want us to ask other questions…” His voice trailed off as the planchette moved on it’s own towards the letters again.

”I never asked,” Colby grumbled in frustration. “Is there a message you have for us?” The planchette went back to Yes.

We were quiet.

W E L C O—

“Are you spelling welcome?” Sam asked. The planchette went to Yes.

B A—

“Are you telling us ‘welcome back’ again?” The planchette pointed to No. “Who are you saying…”

Not this again. My tears burned my eyes this time, and they were glossy when I blinked.

What did it mean? What did welcome back mean? This spirit said Colby was here before death and then told me—

”Are you telling Colby, ‘welcome back?’”

The plachette landed on Yes, and I almost broke the rules and yanked my fingers from the board.

Then it started to spell out my name.

”No, no, no; don’t do that,” I cried.

“Stay on,” Sam said sweetly. “It’s okay—We—I think we’re done here. I…”

”What the hell is it spelling now?” Seth asked.

”Are you giving us another name?” Sam asked.

The planchette was determined to finish this word.

”Are you going to spell the name of the person who murdered you?” He pressed on.

”I…” Colby mumbled. I looked up and watched the words die in his throat. He, too, looked all too pale, and with the red and blue rem lights on him, they reflected his glassy eyes. I watched his throat; it was work for him to swallow.

Was he actually going to cry?

”Is someone remembering—“

”I know what it’s spelling,” Colby choked out. That was when Sam shut up and examined his best friend.

“Soul-ties,” Seth whispered. It was like realization settled in for him as well, becasue the way his eyes widened and darted between Colby and I made me wish for the ground to swallow me up whole.

The planchette circled three times on the board for us.

“It—The ghosts just called you two soul-ties.”

Our fingers were off of it.

”Thank you for—“

”Colby,” I mumbled as he shot up. Sam closed out the seance just as Colby left the safety of our circle. I followed him out of the salt line and into the dimly lit hallway. “Colby.” He ignored me as he hesitantly made his way down the stairs. ”Colby,” I repeated firmer. “Colby, don’t leave me,” I choked. He stopped and looked up to where I was at the top of the stairs.

I walked down to him, and I swore, another life flashed before my eyes.

I didn’t know the man who stood in front of me, but I knew his eyes.

I didn’t know the blue dress on my body, but it was my body.

I looked back at Colby as I made it to the first floor. He didn’t take his gaze off of me for a second.

”Oh my god,” Seth gasped as he ran a hand through his hair. “Before death, you were here. The ghost welcomed her back. “She—Miss Johnson literally just called you two soul-ties! It’s—oh my god—is reincarnation real?”

The daunting, jarring, death defying truth hung over us like a black cloud. The five of us looked at each other.

”What the fuck are we going to put in the video? Have you even been recording Sam?” Sam checked his camera even thoguh he looked so far from himself.

“Yes,” he stuttered. “I-I have no idea what we’re going to say.”

”We can’t just tell them that reincarnation is real because we literally went to the house our best friend's owned in their past lives—“

“Shut up,” Colby burst out. “Just stop. Let us-Let us think for a second. Don’t say shit like that.” I looked at him. Offense must have been prevalent. “We-We need to fucking talk or something, I know-I know the whole reincarnation thing is insane, but this-this is still our fucking lives too.”

”Yeah, no,” Seth sighed. “Totally. I know. Maybe we should pause for the night and chill out. Maybe we can take naps and order food.”

”You think they DoorDash here?” Sam scoffed at Nate.

“I mean we can try.”

”I’m probably going to have to go pick it—“

I appreciated Sam diverting the attention from me and Colby, and he led the other two towards the kitchen. Colby didn’t take his eyes off of me.

”How believable is this for you?” I whispered. He only swallowed, blinked quickly. I wiped the tears from my face with the back of my sleeve, and then I paused when I noticed tear tracks on Colby’s face as well. “Let’s…” I started cautiously. Colby’s eyes slowly widened, but he didn’t stop me when I raised my hand to his face and wiped the last tears away. “Let’s just finish this investigation. Debrief, and we can sort things out later. We don’t want this video to go to waste.” He nodded but didn’t pull away from me. I couldn’t stop touching him either.

Forty minutes later, Sam and Colby came back with the food they picked up.

Seth offered to go with Sam, but Colby pressed that he could do it. Seth didn’t fight it; we all knew. I would have done anything to be a fly on the wall of that car. What did they talk about? They had so much time to be alone.

“I’m sorry for how this night turned out if it freaked you out or anything,” Seth said as he sat next to me on the sofa. I shook my head.

”No, I mean, yeah it’s weird. I’m not upset or anything,” I rushed. It felt nice that one of them started the conversation. Nate came into the room with bottles of water and gave one to each of us as well. He sat in the chair to my right. “I feel like I’m at the point now where I’m gaslighting myself. Like did it actually happen or there has to be some kind of explanation.” Nate nodded in agreement.

”Yeah, that seriously hits us hard everytime we finish an investigation, but then we pull out the footage and it’s like reliving it a second time. The moments that literally have no other explanation are a lot more easy to believe when it’s watched back because it’s like reconfirming in your head that it was real, you did see it, and you know it wasn’t staged or anything,” he said.

”I just feel like this is different,” I muttered.

”It really is,” Seth agreed. “I know it’s a lot more personal for you and Colby, but imagine if the Estes method session and the seance we did really was real; what does that have to say for the rest of the world? If it was real and we were talking to the real ghost of Miss Johnson, and she literally called you and Colby out by name and basically told you that you two lived here in your past lives; what the fuck does that mean for the rest of us?”

”Reincarnation could literally be real!” Nate gasped. “That’s such an insane thing to claim in a video! Wars literally start over religion.” He leaned back in his chair. “I’m just fucking relieved that I’m not the one who has to edit this post it.” We laughed at his joke because that was very much so fair. But my smile slowly fell.

Nate was right; he didn’t have to edit this footage. Sam and Colby would have to.

Colby would edit this footage and he would be the one to ultimately decide what to do or say. That terrified me. I felt bad for him, because clearly both he and Sam were stressed as hell if they took an hour break by themselves. Sure, they picked up food for all of us, but they still went off alone and during a tense time.

What did they talk about?

Over dinner—or a 4am breakfast, I wasn’t quite sure anymore—we discussed what to do next. Maybe we got information about reincarnation and soul ties, but that wasn’t what we were here for.

”I just know we haven’t gotten anything about the murder,” I said in between bites.

“That’s true,” Seth said. “Are you guys up to trying more?” He looked up at Sam and Colby, but his gaze lingered on Colby more.

”I am,” he said and then looked around.

“Yeah, we definitely should try again to see if we can find out who killed her,” I said. Colby looked me in the eyes for the first time since the car ride with Sam.

A gentleness was in his eyes, and it replaced the fear and frantic thoughts. I needed to know what was said. Later. We would figure it out later.

”Awesome, would you guys be up for trying it in the dressing room again or should we try something down here?”

”Let’s try down here,” Seth answered Sam. “Clearly Miss Johnson is very active in the dressing room and she didn’t have much else to say other than what she already has. Maybe we can try to get another spirit.”

”But she’s the one who would know who killed her,” Colby said.

”I mean, they might have ghost meetings or something, I don’t fucking know. Also we’re close to the portal so maybe we can talk to another ghost not attached to the house.”

”Seth, if you want to go flirt with demons again, you could just say it,” Nate jeered.

”Shut the fuck up.”

It was settled.

We placed the music box in the vortex and the rem pod on the other side of the house in between the sitting room and the back door. We left the backdoor open. The winter chill brushed in, and the clean air filtered that scent of familiarity lodged in my palate if only for a moment.

It happened quickly.

Since Miss Johnson was a medium, it was easy for her to communicate with us with each method. Within 30 minutes, we talked to multiple ghosts and narrowed down a few names that Angie talked to us about before. We all believed it was one of the maids close to Ada who murdered Miss Johnson for speaking about the baby.

The maid knew that William and Ada had a baby too early; there wasn’t enough time in between their wedding and when the baby was born, so everyone would have known they would have had her before getting married. On top of that, due to the dangerous position he was in at his job, it made them a target. Because of everything, they kept the baby a secret and safe in the house. Even though she was presumably safe in the house, she was still murdered by someone.

Miss Johnson told us that Ada believed it was someone in the house, but not too long after the child passed, William did as well. There wasn’t enough time between either death; she couldn’t figure out who did it, so she fired all of the servants in the house aside for her closest and personal maid. She wasn’t a part of the scheming.

When Miss Johnson came to work at the estate, it had been 20 years after William and the baby passed. They did a good job covering up the fact that they had a child and the fact that she was murdered under their own roof. Until Miss Johnson arrived.

”You’re telling me,” Seth started with a deep laugh of disbelief laced in his tone. He leaned forward in his seat. I sat on the sofa next to Nate who had his head leaned back on the rest, eyes closed, and arms folded—we couldn’t tell if he was asleep or not but we didn’t disturb him—and Sam and Colby did the Estes method in the middle of the sitting room. “That she literally outed a secret they had to keep in order to not lose everything they had? And she didn’t know?”

“Someone poisoned Will too; that’s what had to have happened. There were too many suspicious things happening for us to not rule that out,” Colby said.

“Ada was still alive and the maid still worked there,” Seth went on. “Which means that unless it was someone outside of the house, which looks very unlikely, it was the maid.”

”Or Ada herself,” Colby said quietly. His eyes were on me. My throat went dry.

“Ada…” Seth said. Nate was suddenly awake.

”Ada herself killed Miss Johnson?” Sam asked. He still wiped the tears from his eyes from coming out of the headphones and blindfold.

The rem pod and the music box shilled to life.

I was pushed too far, worn too thin. The bathroom was too far. I was out of my seat and down the wooden stairs of the patio out back before I could blink. By the time I finished getting sick, Colby was behind me. I saw a flash of Sam on the patio before my tear filled eyes looked up at Colby.

He didn’t blink. There was no real expression on his face aside from his attentive eyes. Then he slowly nodded. Tongue dampened his lips in thought

“Ada stabbed Miss Johnson 36 times because…” His words faded. I wondered how I looked. I could feel how pale I was.

”Inside—Come inside guys,” Sam rushed with a nervous shake in his voice. It was freezing out here. Colby didn’t even flinch.

The words went unsaid but not unnoticed.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—“

”No, no,” Colby said gently to Sam as he turned back to the house. The grass poked my ankles over my vans and my socks soaked up the early morning dew. My eyes scanned the fields. The water over a hundred yards from us was still as a mirror; the faded starlight bounced off. The sky already reflected a lighter blue. “It’s not you at all. Hold on a second.”

Sam went back into the house. They left the door open. Colby turned to me.

”Reincarnation isn’t real, Colby,” I muttered roughly. An eyebrow shot up.

”Yeah,” he scoffed. “You believe it isn’t real now but only because you think you wouldn’t murder anyone.”

“It-It wasn’t me—“

”Maybe, but in this lifetime, your daughter wasn’t murdered in front of you.” Chills fell down my body like a cold rain when he spoke those words. I couldn’t look away from him even as the tears broke. “And your husband wasn’t poisoned right after.”

“Fuck,” I gasped breathlessly. “This is real, isn’t it?” Colby swallowed. His eyes scanned the expanse of land around us. It took a while, and the more seconds that passed, the more I knew it confirmed my statement.

”Do you not remember running across this grass and jumping in the lake?”

Like a train engine, the memory crashed into me and I almost fell off my feet. The hot Texas summer sun burned my skin, but I kept my eyes on… a man. Colby; his eyes looked back at me, and before I could drown in them, we broke the surface of the water.

I looked at Colby in front of me. Moonlight reflected in his expectant eyes.

The seconds ticked by. I could feel them in the warming wind, in the dimming stars.

”Who’s going to believe us?”

That morning, as we met in a diner with coffees and a basket of fries since we weren’t hungry enough for a full meal yet, I tried my hardest to debrief and be in the conversations with the boys. But how could I? Information was revealed and things happened with no other explanation tonight, and Colby’s silence was telling. Did he believe it? Or did he not want to?

The others must have felt the tension and thank god they didn’t feel awkward and carried the conversation easily.

I wasn’t ready for confrontation. Thinking about where I stood with Colby by myself in my own head was enough confrontation. Of course Sam didn’t realize. Or maybe he did and that was why when we got back to the hotel—when the sunlight shot across the awakening city and burned our night infested eyes—he finally mentioned the elephant in the room.

”Honestly,” he mumbled as we neared the elevator. Nate and Seth were ahead of us speaking quietly. Colby slowly looked at him, and I avoided his gaze because it was too serious. All knowing. “I’ll stay with Nate and Seth tonight.”

I wanted to scream no please don’t leave me but another terrifying feeling pulled my other arm.

”Okay,” Colby simply said and that was that.

A well of excitement and fear and curiosity overflowed within me.

The three boys got off first and thank the heavens the other two didn’t mention Sam getting off with them. The elevator doors shut, and before they sealed, I stole one more glance at Sam who looked back at me already. His comforting eyes warmed my entire body and then Colby and I were alone.

I wasn’t breaking the silence until he did.

We left the elevator—only two floors from the other three—and I decided it was the longest elevator ride I had ever taken. My vision pounded with anticipation as we neared our room. He unlocked the door and led me inside.

I recoiled at the ever soft gleam in his eyes. I tried to forget that it looked like it was work for him to turn away from me.

“Let’s-Let’s just relax first.” I nodded. Maybe I couldn’t break the silence. At least I knew that he wanted to have the conversation with me.

I washed my makeup off. Colby brushed his teeth. We both stood at the double sinks. It took everything within me to not glance at his reflection. I saw the tension under his skin. Maybe he fought the feeling as well. Or maybe he felt my tension. He couldn’t be uncomfortable alone with me, no. He would have told Sam not to leave.

My throat tangled within itself when Colby walked from the bathroom into the bedroom and took his shirt off at the same time. I looked back at my reflection and thank god he continued around the corner to his luggage so that he wouldn’t see my wide eyes glaze over.

Either the universe is out for blood or Colby sent a message with that move.

After I braided my hair, I too left the bathroom and flicked off the lights. The silence was comfortable but it wasn’t peaceful. Intangible questions netted between us, I knew that much, and from the way his eyes narrowed on the things he messed with in his backpack as I took off my clothes, I wondered how much speaking we could get done tonight. Unless we could communicate without words. Maybe I got ahead of myself.

I didn’t even think about facing him at all. Everyone changed in front of each other—at least just shirts and pants—like it was a regular thing. It was a regular thing for us, but this was substantially above that. The intimacy shook my breath and I hoped he didn’t hear the way my breath hitched as I pulled on an oversized shirt to sleep in.

He charged camera batteries while replacing them with new batteries and SD cards. He didn’t go over footage with me like he typically did. When was this ever a typical night though?

I stood on my side of the bed after plugging in my phone, and I must have felt him turn towards me because I too faced him. He was on the other side of the bed. As badly as I wanted to look away from his eyes—as badly as I wanted to gaze down the rest of his body—I kept my focus on the way his eyes didn’t defocus from mine.

“How do you feel?” I could curl up in his voice forever if he always spoke that way to me. I nodded my head before I replied.

”Fine, I’m-I’m fine.” He nodded.

”Tonight was a lot.” I nodded again.

”It was.”

”Are you upset?” I shook my head. I wished I could speak. I wanted to, so badly, but not a constructive word came to me. “I—I had no idea—“

”It’s okay,” I rushed out. “Are you upset?’

”No,” he quickly said. “Not at all.”

My heart leapt.

“Every time you spoke, the ghosts in the house freaked out. You were like-like a beacon for me, or something.” I recounted the events that took place. It was true. When I spoke, noises happened. Ada touched my hair. When I spoke, the devices were loud.

With him, I wondered what would happen in the future. Who else could aid him like I could?

”Come here.” I walked over to his side of the bed. His eyes were on my body, I felt the heaviness, but I didn’t look up to him. I would have fallen. Then I looked up to him and stood there. He looked back at me but didn’t say anything.

When his hand reached up and touched my face, I needed to make sure he wouldn’t panic and pull away so I leaned into it. He released a heavy breath.

“I…” He stopped himself.

Then he said my name.

”Say whatever you want,” I told him. I needed him to say it. Say anything at all; I didn’t care how cut-throat it was. I needed everything aired out.

“I didn’t,” he shook his head. “I thought I was crazy for feeling like I already knew you when I met you for the first time.”

The walls crumbled around me. I couldn’t catch my breath. I didn’t like how much time I wasted and left his words alone in the air.

“Colby—“

”You don’t—I know—you don’t have to feel—”

”No, Colby, that’s—I was trying to ignore it all this time.” Realization washed over him and I couldn’t stop from smiling.

”You-You feel the same way then?” I nodded quickly.

“Did you think I would have reacted the way I did when that board said we were soultied? You remembered the memory I had of us in the lake, right? Why do you think I’m on the verge of believing it?” An uneven breath escaped from his mouth as if he held onto it for too long.

With a shake of the head, he grabbed my face, and kissed me. The intensity of it all was unbearable. I couldn’t hold my ground, not when it felt like all our pieces fit together for the first time.

My hands grabbed him. It was so hard to hold onto him when he didn’t wear a shirt. I wanted him in every way, and I knew he wanted me, but how fast was too fast? So I wrapped my arms around his neck. If I grabbed him anywhere else, I knew it would be the end.

It would be a death wish because after he touched me once, only death could separate us.

“Do you even know?” His voice—a quiet breath that sent chills across my heated skin—knocked the wind out of me. How was the room so silent? The pounding of my heart could have filled its walls. “You know how hard it was for me to not kiss you everytime I just—god—I just fucking looked at you?” I swallowed tightly at the confession. His hands on my face held me, and he still pressed kisses to my mouth, across my face. It was hard to stay still. How could we when this realization was bone deep?

Even if I didn’t know whether or not I believed in reincarnation, the desperation in my fascia was evident enough.

”And even if it would have ruined what we had already, it would have been worth it.”

“How do you know I didn’t want you back?” I gasped when his lips slipped down my throat. He laughed.

”I thought you could have, but I definitely didn’t want to risk it.” I kissed him this time, and he gasped with the amount of force I used against him. His arms fell down my body and held me so tightly he lifted me.

”I didn’t realize I needed you,” I gasped.

“I need you too. You think I’ll be able to continue doing what we do without you? You—We literally share the share the same soul. You’re the part of me that I’m not.”

“So you’re the part of me I’m not?” My voice broke when he let go of me.

”Come on.” I could have collapsed into that dark tone. He spun around so that his back was to the bed and he pulled me onto his lap. His eyes were wide and beckoning; I rested my arms around his neck, and I couldn’t even lean in to kiss him. I sat there as his hands raced up my back without even pulling me.

He must have seen it too; something in me that was similar to what I saw in him.

He kissed me first, but I pushed him down. I needed him so close to me that I probably wouldn't be satisfied until the laws of physics were broken. The first time I rolled my hips into his, he left out a satisfied hum, and his hands moved to my hips and guided them back and forth gently.

I knew we still had clothes on, so how did it feel this good? I tried to kiss him but I couldn’t. My hand was still on his face, thumb linked under his chin now, and I couldn’t help myself. My other hand slipped down his skin and touched every inch of it that was exposed. My legs were so weak I should have fallen to my front already, but he held me up. As much as I moved, and as much as I touched him, he had control. He held me, moved me, kissed me, tasted me, and let me have my fun.

Or maybe he was as stretched thin as I. Maybe he needed this like I did, and maybe no one had the control or the fun. I didn’t do anything except follow his lead just as he followed mine. When I kissed him, he kissed back. When I pulled his pants off, my shirt hit the floor with them.

My body vibrated above him. It wasn’t a secret. Now that I was fully uncovered aside from my underwear, he could see it, not just feel it. I didn’t think twice about not wearing a bra to sleep even if I shared a room with the boys because never in their lives have they given me a reason to distrust them or doubt them. But now, a heated blush fell down my face and neck as I sat above him exposed.

“Here—“ His breathless voice made my heart jump again. His hand lowered in between my legs, and my eyes closed quickly or else he would have seen them roll back. “Does it feel good, baby?”

“Colby,” I moaned. He closed his eyes, and again, his body tensed under his skin. I didn’t realize how much of an effect I had on him. “You-You really want to do this? Now?” Then his eyes snapped open with caution.

”Do you not want to?” I shook my head quickly.

”No, I do. I really want to. I just didn’t know if it was too fast.”

”It’s not too fast for me. I’ve wanted you for so long. If it’s too fast for you then we don’t—“

”No, it’s not.” He smiled; eyebrows twinged with confusion.

”Then why did you say that?”

“I’m not sure.” His eyes fell down my body. Fingers played with my braid that now loosely hung over my shoulder.

”Did someone say something?”

”No,” I gasped. Because it slowly crept up on me. “I think-I think I’m so scared.” His eyes snapped back up to mine.

”Of what?”

”How much I feel for you. I need you, Colby, and if either of us fucks this up I—I don’t know what I’d do.” He shook his head.

”I can’t—There’s no doubt in my mind that we won’t work out.”

“How can you be so sure?” He hesitated. Wetted his lips.

”Did you not see how much I believed it as well? I didn’t even question it.” My eyes widened. He was the only thing in the room. Everything around us faded to black; only him. “Did you-Did you not feel the same way I did in that house?” I shook my head quickly.

”No-No, I did. I felt—I didn’t think you did.”

”Fuck,” he gasped, I forgot I still grinded down on him. “I-I felt it immediately when we walked in.”

”Me too.”

I broke eye contact first. And it was an accident. I couldn’t simply be on top of him like this, both of us half naked, and not take in his appearance. His hands replaced themselves on my hips as my hands dragged across his skin.

“Fuck—“ I heard him gasp and I looked back at him. His eyes closed and lips parted with pleasure. So of course I thrusted my hips again and again. I would do anything to see that face as long as possible.

“Need to feel you,” I whined as my fingers pushed past the band of his underwear.

”You already can.” I glared at him. A stupid smile pulled at his dark lips.

”I want you in me.” He couldn’t joke anymore. That smile fell and he didn’t break eye contact as we pulled his underwear off. I said I needed to see that face as much as possible.

He gasped and moaned my name sweetly as his head tipped back. I stroked him slowly and watched every expression across his face. I couldn’t look away; at that point, it became an addiction.

”Come on,” he moaned. He lifted himself up again. “Take—Let me take this off.” His hands were rougher. This time my body tensed when he touched me. His hands yanked down my underwear and he quickly tugged me back on his lap.

He stayed sitting still and his hands held my hips in place.

”Want you to ride me baby, can you do that?”

“Yes—“ I didn’t mean to whine, to sound so out of it already, but I couldn’t believe what was happening. I couldn’t believe it had gotten to this point; that this was our reality now. He was my reality now, and nothing could tear him from it.

My arms rested around his neck as he looked up at me. I was glad I could hold myself up; his hands found my hips and moved my body because I was so far gone from myself. The second I felt him against me, I pulled my hips back so that I could grind on him and not let him slip inside yet.

“Oh my god,” he gasped as his eyes closed in surprise. My moans mixed with his as he guided me against him. Everytime he tried to take me further, I pulled away. I knew it was mean, maybe a little fun to tease him, but it felt too good to not drag it out for a little while. “Come on,” he whispered.

”Impatient?” I asked. He glared up at me.

”Could you imagine if this was all real for a second?” I tried. But then he went on: “If it is true and we’re soul tied and reincarnation is real, that means I haven’t fucked you for like 160 years or something—“

”Oh my god!” I burst out laughing. “Not you trying to use the soul tie to get inside me—Colby!”

It felt like the wind was knocked out of me when he pulled me down on him. My hands held onto him, neck and arm, as he filled me to the brim. His eyes carefully watched my face even as I writhed with pleasure.

“Oh my god, holy fuck—“ The words poured out of me laced with my moans, and he moaned loudly as he grabbed my hips and moved me up and down with him. I held his face with my hands so that he couldn’t look away, and I had no capacity to kiss him, so my thumb pulled at his bottom lip. He looked up at me like he was glued to me; completely hexed in my gaze.

Finally coming to my senses again, I rolled my hips against him, and his eyes rolled back.

”Baby,” he sighed. “You feel so damn good,” his moan broke into uneven laughs.

”You feel better,” I whispered. “Look so good.”

“Fuck, I need you.”

”I know,” I whined. “I need you harder.”

The words were hardly off my tongue when he flipped me over. I squealed when my back hit the bedding. He stood to the floor and pressed my knees back. Fire spread through my body when he thrusted against me. I tried to look down and watch when he drenched his tip through my fluids and teased me to hell and back.

”No, please inside—“

”Are you so impatient? It feels so good, doesn’t it?” Humiliation welled in my stomach at the disgustingly sweet tone in his voice. His fingers gouged into the flesh of my legs, and I held onto the blankets below me.

”Please, need you—”

”You sound so sweet for me, baby,” he teased with a light tone. “Did you not just do this to me?”

”Now am I supposed to tell you that I’ve waited for a hundred years for you to be inside—“ The wind was knocked out of me again when he thrusted inside of me, as deep as he could. “Colby,” I whispered his name. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t moan or say anything at all.

”Oh my—“ his eyes rolled back and he gasped another moan. Maybe his fingers left bruises in between my thighs, and maybe they even bled into crescent moons, but I didn’t care. The pain grounded me and reminded me that he was real. He was here for me, with me, in me; something inside of me screamed finally.

”Mine,” I gasped. I didn't know where it came from. A kind of primal possession washed over me when I looked at him. His eyebrows raised in surprise.

”What?” He gasped. “Mine? You think I’m yours, baby?”

”Yes—“ I coughed. “I’m yours.” He breathlessly moaned and leaned over me.

”Yeah, you’re mine too,” he groaned and kissed me bitterly. His teeth, his tongue, his lips burned as I bit back. And his hand found my throat. It was so difficult for both of us at this angle, and with a frustrated groan, he pulled back, grabbed me by the thighs again and lifted me to lay back on the pillows normally.

I gasped as I hit the bed, my hands still holding onto him. One of my legs hooked over his arm as his other hand held my throat again. It didn’t hurt, I could still breathe and see; it was to anchor my gaze on his.

“Mine,” he whispered. “You’re so mine, mine forever.”

He didn’t stop. It built and built under my skin until I had to close my eyes. My fingers made marks in his skin everywhere I touched him. I needed to curl up under his skin, I needed to be closer even if it was impossible.

“Yeah, are you baby?” I didn’t even realize I moaned still. It wound up inside of me, and he undid me faster than I could hold onto. “Want to come with me?”

”Please—“ I gasped and my eyes opened. He kissed me, his lips breaking skin below my chin, down my neck. “Close,” I said. It must have been a repeat.

”Oh my god, I’m going to,” he warned, and my hands found his neck, his hair again. I looked down between us, and his hand grabbed onto my waist. I was suffocated with the view of our bodies together, and I couldn’t even blink as he lost himself inside of me.

”Colby—“ I gasped, and so powerfully, my climax also came over me. He gasped and hesitated at the pressure, and he held me down to keep himself up. “No,” I somehow whined through my pleasure. I grabbed him and brought him down on me. I needed him close.

And he slowed.

My nails tore across the skin of his back, not enough to leave marks anymore, but enough for us to feel. Then, when he caught his breath, he left gentle kisses across my skin. I gasped as he slowly pulled out of me.

He grabbed a towel from the bathroom before he sat in between my legs.

”Colby—“ I went to stop him, but as he cleaned me, he kissed down my thigh. I hummed with satisfaction as he touched me, loved me.

”I’m still unsure if this is real or not,” he said when he raised to his knees again.

”Yeah,” I sighed a heavy breath. “Me too. If,” I let my mind wander. “If we’re soul tied, what does that mean for us? How easy for us will it be to communicate with spirits, then?” His eyes clicked up to me.

“That’s-That’s really interesting, actually. We need to test it out. As far as I saw today, though, when you were there, you like ushered in the most activity.”

“It could just be because I shared the same spirit with one of the ghosts there.” His eyes brows relaxed in thought. Then, they drifted back up to me.

”If it is real and we aren’t insane, then that means you brutally murdered a woman for me and our baby.” My eyes relaxed and glazed over. I watched him and my heart skipped a hot beat in my chest.

Him, our baby.

”And I’d do it again.”

✧˖*°࿐

Taglist (Comment to be added):

@a-random-google-user

@graceciesiels22

@honestlybabymiracle

#sam and colby #colby brock #sam golbach #18+ only #minors dni #colby brock smut #colby brock x reader #rosie writings #rosie hub #soulmates #soul ties #doppleganger #ouija board #reincarnation

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s3thwrit3sstuff · 2 months

Note

hello seth! i don’t think my tumblr works with anon so i’ll just send it like this! i’m a huge fan of your writing and i absolutely adore it. whenever i am in the need for a good story and writing inspiration i go to your blog. so i was hoping if you could write a sally face fic! i haven’t seen too many on here and willing to write for m reader or ftm.

i like the thought of being with sally and just having time with him, soft domestic type stuff. then he starts asking you how you really feel about his face and you smile and take off his mask with permission and kiss him saying he’s beautiful and to not worry. you kiss him and hold him. he then sits up but keeps your lips locked and you begin to explore each other sexually but in a such intimate way you both are crying almost. if you want could be m reader but i would love a ftm reader! can we also have reader be bottom but still be guiding sally and affirming him. i know this is a big ask and you’re always working so hard so please take liberty with this ask! take what you want from it and remove what you don’t like. i just love you’re writing. take your time as well! writing can be draining sometimes and you really need to find that inspiration so i want to make sure you feel no pressure!

have a good day/night/evening!!<3

❝ I'll show you how we're supposed to feel (when we meet at Orion's belt) ❞

warnings: mentions of facial dysphoria, self-deprecating thoughts (Sal), unprotected sex, praise (a lot of it), minor hair pulling, creampies, AFAB terminology (clit referred to as dick/cock, terms like cunt and boypussy are used)

masterlist ;

authors note: thank you so much for your kind words! hearing that you use my writing as writing inspiration made me feel so warm and fuzzy on the inside oh lord 😭 you're too kind! This request was the softest one I've ever worked on, thank you so much for gracing me with the opportunity to write this~

*song on repeat: Orion's Belt by Sabrina Claudio / Baby Girl by SMNM

"Cold, cold, cold," Sal lifts his head from the couch. The sight of you rushing down the wooden stairs in nothing but a towel makes him lift himself to sit. "Fuck! Sal, you should put carpet in here!" Grinning, he leans forward and folds himself in half to stare at you furiously lifting the towel up to wrap around your shoulders instead.

"You hate carpet. B'sides, it'll get that weird moldy smell in here. I told you to get those fuzzy slippers," Gizmo meows in agreement from his corner of the couch. "Traitor!" you exclaim and he simply meows once again, lifting a leg to lick his stomach and Sal reaches over to give his head a good scratch.

"See? Even Gizmo agrees."

"Gizmo has in-built fuzzy socks. He has no say in this," your huffing and puffing simply makes Sal roll his eye, lifting Gizmo up to place the large cat right on his stomach while he props his head onto the armrest of the couch. Gizmo stretches out onto his torso, unbothered by the change in position while he presses his nose into Sal's chest and twists until he's nearly full on his back; the action makes Sal secure the old cat on him. His olive-toned arm loosely wrapped across Gizmo's purring body.

You're still rambling but it's all background noise to Sal. The sight of your bare legs and backside calls for his attention and despite how guilty he feels, he can't help but drag his sight all the way up to your — now — bare shoulders. The towel is now limply draped over the towel rack, and your muscles and bones are moving seamlessly underneath the fabric of your skin.

Everything about you can make him feel like he's going to explode. In a good way, if you can believe it. He sure as hell didn't. Sal remembers the first time he saw you, thinking you looked cool and that it was nice your interests lined with his. Somehow you managed to become more than that.

More always scared Sal. It was greedy and selfish. He wasn't religious but there was a sense of anxiety that came from wanting and needing more than you were given. Some sort of divine guilt was planted within him through passing by churches and reading the signs of worship plastered on billboards. Needing more is frightening, especially from other people.

More time spent with you two. More hours of listening to you speaking. More days spent with you in his home, bare skin and bare soul all for him and only him.

It frightened him!

Because, as self-centered as it sounds, he'd have to give you more. Don't take this the wrong way, he wants to — God, he wants to — but...but...

What if you don't like all that he has?

The fabric of his skin is spoiled. Marred. One of his eyes is artificial, his jaw asymmetrical, bone blown to bits, nose cut off and skin grafts stitched together and spliced.

His heart hammers in his chest, and his breathing is shaky as he squeezes Gizmo. The patch-furred critter mews, twisting once again and crawling up. His weight on Sal's chest is comforting. The pressure across it squeezed down on him, reminding his body that it was real and he was safe.

"In conclusion, I propose we buy a heater! That way we can — "

You're dressed in Sal's pajama pants, hands in the middle of pulling down the oversized band shirt when you notice Sal squeezing his eyes shut.

"Sal? Baby? What's wrong?" You sit by his legs, placing a hand on his knee and pressing your hands on it to ease him back down. "You're okay, baby. You're okay." It's not often Sal gets like this. You've known him ever since he came to Nockfell County; you know he's the type of person to withdraw within himself when his anxieties get the best of him. He's certainly gotten better with time and as your friendship — and eventual relationship — got stronger, the both of you worked on ways to lean on each other when things get tough.

Sal inhales deeply, Gizmo raising with the motion, and exhales. You don't pry more, giving him room to find the words and tether back to you. Gizmo's purrs muffle the silence.

"Sorry, just, the sight of your ass gave me a heart attack, Jesus," the joke is met with a loose grin but Sal knows you better than that. Still. He's grateful you snort at his jesting. Gizmo stands — Sal grimaces as he puts all his weight on his sternum — then walks over to your lap instead. The sight makes him calm down.

The faded grey of the once-black band shirt and his pajama pants do too. It's silly but the sight of you in everything that's his comforts a part of him. You're here. You're in love with him. Your gaze holds nothing but patience and adoration and a tinge of worry.

But you're here, in his clothes, in his room, his cat in your lap, and your hands on his body.

"You feeling better, Sal?" He nods, pushing to sit. "Do you wanna talk about it, baby?" Gizmo gives your chin one more bump before he jumps on the floor and meanders his way to his food bowl. Taking the chance, you inch closer to Sal and he's grateful for it.

You're not scared of the cold prosthetic on his face. The iron bolts that secure the straps to his face and head, the glass eye that shines humourlessly in any situation.

"Do you ever want...more from this? From me?" That line of questioning made your brows furrow and mouth frown. "What do you mean?" You reach for him and Sal reciprocates by holding your hand in his lap.

"I was joking about seducing Mr Smith from the electronics store for a heater," he scoffs at your lame joke but continues. "I don't mean that, I'll get us a heater. Just..."

"You've never seen...all of me." His grip loosens but you don't let it. "So?" he looks at you, his face angled low and the shape of his prosthesis mimics his brow bone. Sal is pinching his face, confused at your indignant tone.

"So?" He whispers. You lift his hand up, inching in closer and placing his knuckles over your clavicle.

"So?"

"Doesn't it freak you out? We've been together for so long and you've never seen my face," he murmurs. Since you're so close, speaking above a whisper would ruin this moment. Sal's heart is racing again though this time the anxiety is laced with his love for yours. It's a confusing emotion but he relishes the way you press your forehead to his, nose bumping with the bump on his prosthesis.

"Do you want me to see your face?" He inhales sharply, glancing away.

"...I do. But..."

"Mm?" you spread his fingers out, guiding them to your neck and the calloused pads of Sal's fingers make gooseflesh spread. The hairs on the back of your neck standing in applause; because that's what he does to you.

He makes your pupils expand, makes your heart race, makes your brain produce dopamine; your body lights up like a goddamn firework when he so much as looks your way. You can be yourself with him without fear because you know you do the same to him.

"...I've only ever let you kiss me when it's dark. The first time we had sex, I couldn't even take off the mask...I just...I'm..."

Your frown deepens when Sal sighs, his shoulders dropping.

"Be honest. Does it bother you?"

He's glad you don't reply immediately. A part of him always worries your love for him overtakes everything else. That, if something ever happens between the two of you and it tears you apart, you'll feel regret once the love is gone. You brush his hair behind his ear, cupping his jaw as you shake your head.

"No. It doesn't. Because it's you, Sal. I love you. Even the parts you aren't ready for me to see." He exhales and his breath escapes through the slits of his mouth. You feel it on your thumb and it makes you grin.

There's a twitch in his eye and your grin falters for a moment before it reappears when he locks eyes with you.

"...Do you want me to see your face, baby?"

His jaw is set. His tongue is made of lead. So Sal simply closes his eyes and gives you a minuscule nod. If it weren't for your hand on his jaw, you probably would've mistaken it for a twitch.

"Can I take off your prosthetic?"

Another nod.

"Are you sure, baby? I won't do it if you're not — "

"I'm sure." He says in one breath. "I'm sure."

A moment of silence was shared and you leaned forward to press your lips in the molding of his. The cool material does not pulse or pump with life but it's your Sal's and you cherish it deeply; he exhales shakily and you grin as your fingers dance through the locks of blue to find the straps that hold the prosthetic in place.

It's secure, it's meant to be, and you can feel the wear and tear of the years in the material. The scratches and indents weaved into every fiber. You unbuckle the lower end first and Sal tightens his hold on you, so you pause and press another kiss to his porcelain cheek.

When he nods, you continue, cupping the mask in one hand to steady it while you undo the upper buckle.

Sal would be statue-like if it weren't for the nervous tremors in his fingers. The mask loosens and its weight drops into your hand. His breath does not come through the slits anymore and you can feel it breeze through the fine hairs on your fingers.

He says nothing and neither do you. Still, you place one more kiss on the forehead of his prosthetic and lower it from view.

Sal has his eyes cast away, but he faces you. There's a large scar across the right side of his mouth, splitting his lips and exposing his teeth. There's a dent on the right side of his lower jaw that leaves his bone structure slightly unbalanced, and the cartilage of his nose is completely missing. The skin has healed, stretching his eye and tugging on the rest. It's pinkish still, never quite settling into the rest of his olive-toned skin, and Sal understands why it's jarring.

It's like peeling back the layers of what makes humans...humans.

The skin. The sight of his face makes people unnerved. Teeth and gums and muscles and the lack of a nose. One side of his face was a plain canvas and the other was a goddamn Jackson Pollock painting of horror.

Your touch on his bare skin shocks him. The pads of your fingers drag across his cheekbones. "Does it hurt?" You ask with your eyes lidded.

"No, no, it...it doesn't." You smile and your thumb rests just under his eyes, sweeping fondly while your palm holds his face preciously within your hand. There's a flush to his skin — it's not unusual with how the prosthetic held over his face nearly 24/7.

There's a feeling of nakedness that comes without the even pressure across his visage but your hands are an amazing substitute.

"You don't have to be nice," he says. "It takes a lot to get used to — "

"I know I can't completely convince you to not think of yourself as 'something to get used to' but you're not. Not to me." Sal's eye water and he wills himself to finally look at you.

There's a pinch to your brows, it makes your eyebrows cast this shadow across your eyes and highlight the colours of your eyes. You're frowning at his self-deprecation, though beyond that he can see you mean well.

"I would gladly sit on your face, Sal."

He scoffs, groaning as he slips away from your hand to toss his head back and flop right onto the couch again. "You're fuckin' impossible, (Y/N)," he mumbled as his hands covered his face. You place the prosthetic down on the makeshift coffee table near the couch and chuckle as you swing one leg over his hips and rest your crotch over his.

"What? I'm being honest here!" Bracing your weight on your elbows, Sal finds the comfort of your body across his similar to Gizmo's. "You're fucking beautiful," he squirms at that and you huff, nuzzling your face into his neck while he peeks from over his fingers.

"You don't have to say that," you huff once again. "I'm not saying that because I have to, I'm saying it because I want to. You're fucking beautiful, me being your boyfriend is just a coincidence."

He feels you shifting and instinctively, his hands rest on your hips and there he is again. You know you shouldn't stare, so you don't, but the shy glances at his face are less than secretive. His eyes are blue, cobalt almost, and his eyebrows are a darker shade of his hair. The shape of his eyes is rounded, with a deep crease and heavy eyelids just like his father's. Lifting your head, you gaze down at him and your hands are once again gingerly ghosting on his skin. This time, they're tracing his collarbones, feeling up the protruding muscle of his neck and halting at his jaw.

"Can I kiss you, baby?" He has a quirk. A lip twitch that he does when he's excited; you've been dating him for years and you're still finding out new things about your boyfriend. It makes your heart race and it only triples in speed when he nods. Hovering, the peak of your lips ghost his. He had always envied how you kiss his prosthetic. It was an extension of himself but he hated how badly he wanted to feel you on him.

They press to his and Sal slips his eyes closed. It's nothing more than a peck. Innocent, chaste. But then he's tightening his grip and pulling you in; tilting his head like he's always seen other people do and you're grinning into it. He knows because he can feel it.

He can feel it.

How your lips spread, the hint of teeth that slide over his bottom ones, and the crinkling of your nose that's brushing over his cheek.

"You taste so good, pretty boy," your words make his ears red. "I'm sure anything is better than kissing porcelain," he replies with a breathless tone, leaning forward again as if unwilling to part from you even if just to talk.

"No, don't disrespect yourself like that. What did we say about making those jokes." "Hah, I'll stop when you do."

Giggling, you're leaning in again. Sal wonders if kissing you is the only reason he's not completely in tears. The first time he'd accidentally showed Larry his face, he'd cried because Larry didn't look away from him. You taste tears on your lips and Sal curses softly as he tucks himself under your jaw, groaning. You shush him comfortingly, threading your fingers through his hair as he takes a few deep inhales.

"I love you." Those words are followed by more tears and you squeeze him again. "I love you, Sal," he nods against your — his — shirt. He can feel the grin you have from the crown of his head.

"I love you. I love you. I love you."

Because you did. Sal was the man you wanted to be with until the Earth decided to throw in the towel; it didn't matter how buried your love for each other would be, because when your bones are dug up, or his guitar, or the treasure trove of things you've called yours; in the future, when you whisper to those archeologists: "Do you know?" they'd nod and reply, "We know you loved him."

Sal has never felt love like this. One that felt overwhelming at first, the same way entering a body would be for the first time in your life, but once he embraced the feeling? It was so...fulfilling.

How lucky was he?

Sal pulls away to cup your face and he leans in. You meet him halfway.

The feeling of your breath, your heart thudding against his own chest, the pulse beating under his thumb as he holds your neck — Sal isn't sure if he'd ever get into heaven but he doubts it ever compares to you.

His jaw moves and your lips part as you press closer. Fuck, kissing him felt like drinking in sunlight. There's a freedom that follows it, leaves you floaty and blissful.

"I love you," he replies between the friction, teeth biting down on your lower lip if only to hear if you'd gasp. You do.

"I love you so fuckin' much, (Y/N)." There's a feverish desperation in his words. But it makes your heart swell. There's no doubt in his eye, nothing but the truth and the truth is he'd worship you.

You're kissing again. Eager to show him the explosions he sets off within you. Between desperate lip locking and messy tangles of tongues, his hands move down and up your — his —shirt.

Squeezing your sides as he drags his digits across your skin. It spreads fire across your planes, has your already uneven breath shuddering as he memorizes the shape of your body again.

There's a growing hardness between his legs. You can feel it — twitching below your crotch as he tilts his head and tastes the lust that perspires from your neck.

He's greedy with his mouth. How could he not be? Sal has been wanting to taste you the second he realised how badly he wished you were his.

"Fuck, Sal." You groan, chewing on your lower lip as he experiments with this unmarked territory. His tongue is warm, his teeth brushes over pumping arteries with an air of amusement; when he finds the sweet spot? The spot where your breath hitched as he kissed it?

Sal makes your blood vessels explode. It isn't enough that the hairs on your neck stand in attention because of him, or how your blood rushes to your head when he so much as looks your way. He's determined to show you he can worship you in more ways than one.

You're gripping onto his shirt and your hips grind down. The moan he lets out makes your cunt wetter than before.

"I need you," you tell him as he sinks his teeth in. Just to test it out, to see if you'd like it. You do. His back feels cold as you lift his shirt but he grips at your wrist, panting as he moves his head away so you can see him.

"Can I...Can I keep it on?" He already felt a touch too exposed. You nod, reassuring him with a chaste peck.

"I'm gonna take of my shirt. You've made me all warm," he smiles a bit too smugly. He's handsome that way. When he gets a bit cocky — it's a sure fire way to make your head dizzy with desire.

"My shirt," he mumbles.

But when your bare torso is revealed the sass is pushed away. Sal presses kisses on your chest, teasing your perk buds with his too-warm hands and relishing in the way you toss your head back when he takes one in his mouth.

"Sal, holy fuck." He kneads at your ass, making your hips move back and forth. Rocking your clothed cunt over his boner as he leaves hickeys and bitemarks.

Here is where I plant my love, he thinks as he feels your heart pound against your ribcage, here is proof that he's mine.

Your pants are pulled below your waist and Sal moves back, making you yelp at the loss of balance. One second you're over him and the next, you're both tumbling over the couch.

His hand cradles the back of your head, curling over you as much as he could when you crash. Thankfully, none of you knocked into the coffee table but the adrenaline of the short fall makes the both of you wide-eyed.

"Holy fuck!" You laugh breathlessly. He scans you for any injury but soon follows suit. "You okay?" His hair curtains your face from view as he descends to claim your lips again.

"I'm peachy, baby." Sal grunts as you tug at the waist band of his pants. "Don't stop..." and how could he say no to you when you look up at him like that?

Your hands invade underneath his shirt and Sal moans as you press your fingers lightly into his back, kneading at the tense muscles. "M'not gonna take it off. Just wanna feel you," you assure as you reach his shoulder blades. God, the feeling of your hands on his body made him feel so Holy.

Ironic in the grand scheme of things but it's not like Sal gave a damn.

It's your turn to mark him up. He often already is. But this time your lips latch onto the obvious places. Lifting yourself to sit, Sal is suddenly at your mercy as you lovingly bruise him up with your mouth.

Sal lifts himself off your crotch a bit, panting and moaning at your ministrations, and slips his hand down your pants. Your breath stutters as your boyfriend touches your core.

"Sal," you plead. "I know, baby. I know," Sal frowns when you whine. "What? What's the matter, sweetheart?"

"You're just..." You're breathing heavily as you stare up at him, nails lightly digging into his skin as your dick twitches against his palm.

"You're so fucking beautiful, Sal."

That catches him completely off-guard. He hates how tears immediately burn at his waterline but regret doesn't come when they travel down his cheek. You're kissing him and the self-depriciation doesn't once rise. That snivelling, hissing, voice of doubt remains mute as you hold him.

"So fucking pretty," he slips his finger in as if attempting to distract you with pleasure. It makes you keen but you continue to sing praises for him as he pumps his digits in and out of you.

It's hard to move when you curl your arms over his back, hands peeking from the stretched out collar of his shirt. Forehead once again pressed to his.

"I can't — "

"You're all mine. My pretty boy is all mine." Blood should not rush so quickly to one's head. His chest is dusted in red, his shoulders, his ear, the apples of his cheek —

"You feel so good, Sal."

You allow him to push you back, splaying out onto the floor with your eyes lidded in want as he looked at you.

"...Shit, you're making my brain go all stupid," he grumbles — it sounds more like a whine. You lift your hips as he tugs your pants down and off. Sal gets between your legs and for a moment you think he's about to just slide in — which causes you a bit of concern considering how much meat he's packing between his legs — but then he lays on his stomach and your cock peeks straight up.

"I've watched a few pornos," he says with a grimace, "but — "

"I can guide you, Sal." He's looking up at you with those doe eyes and you chuckle as you brush some of his hair back. "You made me cum from grinding on your goddamn leg before. You've got this, Sex Grandmaster Sal."

"Really don't think mentioning Larry's marijuana induced rambling is setting the mood, babe," your giggle smooths out the furrowed brows he had. "Sorry, sorry."

Your cunt is making his mouth water. Sal presses his thumb on your cock and the sigh you let out eases his worries. His tongue on your dick has you inhaling deeply, slowly, back arching off the floor as he looks up at you.

He's overzealous but fuck does it make you wetter than you've ever been. Licking and sucking on your cock while he teases the opening of your cunt with his fingers. The hints of teeth makes your hips twist but he holds your hips down with muffled groans.

"Fuck, yes. You're doing so good, Sal. S'fuckin' good — holy shit, babe," the way your voice gets all pitchy makes him grin. Your slick on his tongue is making him want more, so he spreads your lips apart and sinks his tongue inside, it makes your grip onto his head, and Sal moans into you at the pinpricks of pain that follow.

Fingers accompanies his tongue and you're clamping your thighs around his head. It forces Sal's face into your cunt and the whole thing has him chuckling against you.

Pinning your thighs apart, Sal licks and swipes at the slick around his mouth and chin, catching his breath as he curses.

"Fucking Christ, does it feel that good?" You whine in retaliation. "You're the one going down on me of course I'm going fuckin' crazy. You get all whiny when I go down on you too — "

He curls a finger inside of you and you cut yourself off with a particularly loud moan. The floorboards above you creak and like a deer lifting its head as a branch snaps in the distance, another follows as whoever was in the living room heard the echoing cries of pleasure.

Sal slips another finger in and you cover your mouth, glaring at his handsome face petulantly. It falters as he stretches you out, thrusting in and out with a steady rhythm that he occasionally breaks to curl his fingers up.

You're groaning and curling your toes, eyelids fluttering and squeezing shut as he jerks you off with his other hand. Loosening his jaw, Sal uses his spit to lube you up further. He had a thing for sloppy sex. You once joked he enjoyed the slick-and-slide of it all and he didn't deny it then and probably won't ever.

"Nuh - no, don't wanna cum yet, I wanna cum with you, baby," he slows his rhythm, staring at you as you lift yourself onto your hands and taste yourself on his lips.

"Want you inside me. Please, Sal, I'm beggin'"

"You don't have to. I've got you." He nods when you hold onto the waist of his pants. Pulling it down to his knees and let his cock spring out into the air. Fuck, it's a pretty dick.

It's fat and heavy. Thicker than longer, the girth always makes your toes curl. It's a darker colour compared to the rest of his skin tone, the mushroom tip a warmer shade that burns when you tease him too much. You motion for the couch and he leans against it, whispering your name as you hover over his cock.

"Fuck, you're so hot," he says as you pump his dick with your fist while you line it up to your cunt. "You're pretty fucking hot yourself, big dick," he struggles not to laugh in your face, shaking his head in 'disapproval' that's short-lived.

You sink down on the tip of his cock and Sal moans out your name, squeezing your hips. You shiver for a moment, willing your insides not to clench so excitedly when you've still got some ways to go.

"Shit, (Y/N). You're so fuckin' tight." You could not agree more. The more you go down on him, the more you're tempted to just squeeze him like a vice. Sal brings your face down to kiss him, very quickly becoming addicted to the feeling of it. It's no wonder teenagers made out in the hallways all the damn time.

Gravity helps you the rest of the way. When he's all the way inside of you, you part your lips, the way your eyebrows slope being felt on Sal's forehead as you clench around him.

"Fuuuuck, Sal" you're whimpering his name, arms wrapped around his neck as you look at him. "You feel so fuckin' good, baby."

He swallows thickly, reaching to push your hair away from your face as he gazes up.

"I love you, so fuckin' much. I love you, Sal," you're determined to make him turn into nothing but mush. He's certain of it. His insides felt like a field of flowers, all blooming at once, even if it didn't sense at all. There's an airy moan that escapes him as you squeeze your inner thighs, your hips move forward and Sal grips you like he's afraid you're just a figment of his imagination.

"I know, baby," he whispers back. "I love you, more than you can imagine."

A dopey grin appears on your face. "You think you can show me how much you love me, handsome?" He smiles and your heart feels like it's going to stop.

"I can do more than show you, pretty boy."

He turns you over on your side, not once pulling out. You hastily grab some couch pillows for the both of you before your descent onto the floor. It's cold but that's all the more reason to hold onto each other.

Once your head is on a pillow and you're on your back again, he drapes over you.

Another kiss. Another mischievous nibble. A sly dance of tongues.

Sal is pulling out, the drag of his dick makes you whimper, and thrusts back home. The action has your nails leaving welts on his back but it just reinvigorates him.

He's splitting you open and filling you up. Every thrust makes you see stars. You're unwilling to let him go if the legs wrapped around his waist are saying anything.

But Sal is growing flustered the more praises you tell him.

"That's it, baby. Fuck this pussy, this pussy's just for you."

"Fuck, you look so good, baby. On top of me, fucking me, shit — !"

"Oh, God, your cock is — yeah, right there! — you're in so deep, Sal -Ah!"

You're so fucking filthy.

He wants to hide his face in your neck but he doesn't wanna take his eyes off you. Eyes trailing where his lips and teeth had been, eyeing the sheen of sweat on you and your messed up hair.

The shower you just took had been in vain, huh?

"Fuh - fuck, I'm close," he warns, bracing himself on his elbows as he hovers above you.

"Yeah? Me — mff! — too. Cum inside, baby. Need to feel you — fuuuuck — dripping outta' me," he chuckles breathlessly at your words.

His hips are stuttering and he can see the way your brows are furrowing, angelic moan after angelic moan being knocked out of you. He gives your cock a rub and the way your back arches off the floor makes him hold his own orgasm back just so he can see you like this as clearly as he can take it in.

"Sal, oh fuck, baby!"

"I've got you, (Y/N)."

He chokes out a groan as he feels you clamping down on him, your cunt gripping onto him like it never wants him to let go. You gasp as he snatches your breath, messily making out with him as the aftershocks of your orgasm are barrelled through thanks to Sal's deep thrusts.

"Shit, shit, shit," you smile as he begins to lose his rhythm. Ignoring how sensitive your boypussy feels as he chases his end. "C'mon, baby, fill me up. Yeah, that's it."

He cums with one final thrust. The warmth of it floods your insides, earning pleasant shivers from you as you moan out his name. He's riding his orgasm out, pushing in and out of you shallowly as he catches his breath above you.

"Jesus, fuck..." You giggle at his words, chest rising and falling in rapid motions as your heart tries to calm down.

"That was, Christ, that was — " "Fucking amazing?"

He nods, falling on top of you as carefully as he can. You embrace him, humming as he kisses your neck while you rub his back. The both of you catch your breath, satisfied expressions etched on your faces.

When Sal moves, your eyes are already closed. He pulls out and you whimper at the loss, ignoring the way he stares at his own jizz dripping out of your cunt in favor of gazing at his face.

"We gotta take a shower all over again," he says, helping you sit up and accepting the hug you give him when you're righted.

"...Wanna do it all over again in the shower?" Your question earns a throaty chuckle. "Thought it was implied in my statement."

Another beat of comfortable silence is shared. Sal sighs, nuzzling his face into your neck.

"Thank you, (Y/N)."

"I've got you, Sal."

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