#I couldn't remember if the angst was unbearable or not

[yongility]

NEO TV # I LIKE ME BETTER WHEN I'M WITH YOU. (jaehyun x reader) 6/?

genre: angst, suggestive, gang au, rich kid au, enemies to lovers (kinda), a lil of fluffy stuff. slowburn, series.

warnings: drug use mentions, gangs, fights, use of weapons, adult language, illegal activities, cheating (not on the main couple), toxic family environment, addictions, manipulation, insecurities, illegal street racing, death mentions. jeno is jaehyun's younger brother, angst, smut and if I slip something my bad haha.

word count: +10k?

a/n: im the worst I KNOW! It's just i kept trying to write this chapter like a million times and it never ended like I wanted to and seeing as I have a language barrier (cuz English isn't my first language if u didn't know haha) I was just being unsatisfied with the chapter, but I force my ass to sit down and write this down so i hope u like it!

Sigh...

Overthinking.

(Y/N) had never been good at not thinking too much. Ever since she was little, she always found herself trapped in her own mind, unraveling every last detail of any situation. Perhaps it came from her mother, who had an almost supernatural ability to turn the smallest into the biggest, the most trivial into something monumental. Her mother sowed doubts where there were none, and every little imperfection became a tragedy in her house. That had marked her way of being, of perceiving the world and, especially, the people around her.

She hated it. But, despite everything, she couldn't help it.

Lying on the bed, her eyes fixed on the white ceiling, she felt how the silence enveloped her, how it pressed on her shoulders, on her chest. A heavy, unbearable silence, like a blanket that drowned her. The thoughts did not cease, on the contrary, they intensified as time progressed, dragging her more and more towards the storm raging inside her.

Five days. Five long and exasperating days.

Since the last time she saw Jaehyun. The last time he'd been at her house at one in the morning, when everything had been so... strange. So full of heavy silences, elusive looks, and something on his face, something she couldn't explain. A look she had never seen before. As if it was charged with something, with a desperation so great that he didn't know how to share it. Something that was far beyond the tension of her argument with Mark Lee. Something dark, hidden in the depths of Jaehyun, that she couldn't quite grasp.

Worst of all, now, five days later, she knew nothing about him. The unanswered calls, the messages delivered but not read. She had tried to contact him so many times, but the frustration was just overflowing her.

What was going on? The uncertainty was worse than any answer she could receive. In her mind, questions swirled like a whirlwind. Was she the cause? Had she done something that had driven him away from her? Why had he left so abruptly after their encounter?

She remembered that night. That last shared moment. It had been so... intense. So close, so intimate. An instant of shared vulnerability that had allowed her to feel that, at last, she was connecting with him in a deeper way. But then he was gone. Without a word. Without a word, without a gesture to indicate that something else might be behind his departure.

Jaehyun's words kept echoing in her mind, over and over again. "You're the one that can keep me on track."

Those words stuck to her skin like an invisible mark. What did they really mean? Was it true what he had said? Was she the one who could keep him focused? She wanted to believe it, wanted to be that person for him. But deep down, a fear was creeping in. Was she just being a distraction for him? Was she simply the release valve, the temporary relief for the anguish he was feeling, only so that later he could lose himself in his own pain again?

Knock. Knock. Knock.

She was confused, she didn't know what to do or what not to do. Should she go find him at Neo Zone? Or just wait for him to decide to show up? But, if Jaehyun decided not to... then what would she do?

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The sound of knocking on the door brought her out of her whirlwind of thoughts. She looked toward the door without moving a muscle, throat tight, stomach twisting. The last thing she wanted was to confront her mother, but the knock was persistent, as if someone had decided to break the silence of her room and force an interaction she didn't want.

But, despite the heaviness she felt inside, she got up. A slow, weary movement, as if she were walking through thick water. When she opened the door, she did not find what she expected, neither her mother, nor the inevitable argument. Instead, there he was.

"Daeho..." she murmured, her voice muffled, as if somehow his presence gave her back something she had lost in those days of constant overthinking.

It really had been a long time since they had last met face to face and to say it wasn't a surprise to her would be a total lie.

"Hey," he said, with a smile that didn't quite light up his face. "Can we just... hang?" he asked, scratching the back of his head as if it were weighing on him.

She nodded without another word, stepping aside for him to pass. As soon as he was through the door, Daeho plopped down on his bed unceremoniously, and (Y/N) mimicked him, lying down next to him quietly. They both stared at the ceiling, engulfed in the same silence that had filled their room before his arrival, though it felt somewhat less empty now.

It had been so long since they had shared a moment like this, a moment of simple companionship. She remembered the years when he had been her best friend, her inseparable companion, the only person she truly trusted within the family. But now, lying next to him, she felt as if she had a stranger by her side, someone who, despite all the shared memories, had fallen into a darkness from which she could no longer rescue him.

Daeho broke the silence, his voice soft but laden with an almost tangible weight. "How have you been?"

"I could be better," she replied, with a sincerity he understood without the need for details. He nodded, without looking at her, and went back to losing himself in the ceiling.

(Y/N) gaze strayed to him, and for the first time in a long time, she looked at him closely. His face seemed to have aged years in just a few months. His skin, paler than usual, was dotted with small imperfections that he once cared for with care. The dark circles under her eyes were deep, and her expression had an air of resignation that hurt to see. He sighed, swallowing the lump he felt in his throat.

It was ironic. The person she had grown up with, with whom she had shared so much, now felt like a stranger. She couldn't remember the exact moment when their friendship had changed, or how they got to this point. It had all happened so subtly, as if the words and gestures that had once bound them together had now lost their power. Perhaps time had eroded all that. Or maybe they simply didn't understand each other in the same way anymore.

A pang of pain shot through her. It wasn't just sadness she felt at seeing him like this, but also a pent-up rage, a helplessness that made her want to scream, to wonder at what point he had reached this point. How had he fallen so low?

Perhaps that moment had been from two years ago, when things had become a little darker in her family environment. When her aunt and uncle seemed unable to stop hurting his self-esteem again and again and again. Maybe it was since that gala when all eyes were on him, judging him, laughing at him, stalking him, waiting for him to make a simple mistake so they could point at him.

So they could tell him that he was not worthy of everything he had around him.

That he couldn't be as good as his father was.

That he was a mere spoiled child who deserved nothing.

Perhaps that was when it dawned on Daeho that he could never live up to the expectations he had to fill.

"Daeho..." she whispered, unable to keep the thought to herself alone. There was something heartbreaking about seeing how her cousin was losing himself, something that reached straight to her heart.

He closed his eyes, as if he knew what was coming, and remained silent, as if everything was in order.

"Why did we end up like this?" the question left his lips without meaning to. And as she uttered it, she felt a surge of pain run through her, as if that simple phrase was a reminder of how far away they were from each other.

Daeho closed his eyes for a few moments, as if trying to find an answer. Finally, he spoke, his voice muffled and distant.

"It's the only time I forget," he said, staring at the ceiling, not daring to look her in the eye. "When I do it, it's like I can stop thinking about everything."

"You're not forgetting," she asserted, "you're destroying yourself."

He let out a bitter laugh. "I don't think I'm doing it any more than they're destroying me," he said, his words hitting her with the force of a fist.

Silence filled the room again. She wanted to react, to scream at him, to convince him that he couldn't go on like this, but the words stuck in her throat. How to tell him that she could see him falling and could do nothing to stop it? How to make him understand that he was killing a part of himself?

"I can't keep watching you destroy yourself," he said at last, his voice trembling.

Daeho fell silent, and she felt a tide of memories rise up inside her. She remembered the years they had shared, the times when he was her refuge and she his, the days when nothing could separate them. Daeho had been more than a cousin; he had been her confidant, her best friend. To see him like this, consumed by something she could neither understand nor control, broke her heart.

"You don't have to," he replied softly, but the intensity of his words hit her hard.

(Y/N) wanted to laugh, a bitter, hurt laugh, but instead, she felt the lump in her throat grow larger.

"You said you'd quit it," she reminded him, almost in a sob.

Daeho turned his head toward her, and their eyes met for the first time that night. The look on his face was so devastated that she (Y/N) wished he hadn't looked at her.

"I can't," he admitted, his voice tinged with desperate honesty. "I've tried so many times, and each time...each time I realize I don't want to give it up. I know it's not what you want to hear, but...I'm in too deep. I don't know how to get out, even if I wanted to."

(Y/N) felt the pain in her chest become almost tangible. Seeing him like this, hearing those words, hurt in a way she could never have imagined.

"Why do things have to be like this?" she asked, feeling a lone tear fall down her cheek.

Daeho sighed, a long, exhausted sigh, and hid answer was so raw it seemed ripped from deep within him. "It's what I chose," he murmured. "It may not have been the best decision, but at least it was mine. It's the only thing I really decided for myself...without someone else telling me what to do, who to be. Even if it was for the worse."

She wanted to understand, wanted to see in his words something that would give her comfort, but she couldn't. She couldn't accept that someone who had once been so important to her had been lost like that.

"Don't let it drag you down," he said suddenly, his voice becoming firm. "I made my choices, (Y/N). But you...you have a life you can still build. I'm already too deep, but you...you have a lot ahead of you."

(Y/N) felt a mixture of anger and pain. She couldn't believe he was capable of telling her that, after all.

"You shouldn't keep seeing Jung Jaehyun," he added, in such a serious tone that it took her by surprise.

She looked at him, incredulous, the pain transforming into icy fury. "Get out of my room," he said, pointing to the door.

Daeho nodded, though not without a final sigh of resignation. "I just needed to tell you."

"Just go," she murmured, turning away from him.

He walked out quietly, leaving her in that loneliness that now seemed so much deeper, with the echo of his words echoing in the empty room.

Jaehyun knew it had been a chain of bad decisions and circumstances that had pushed him this far, but facing it was like tearing his skin off. He couldn't deny the truth: he hated everything around him, and he hated himself more than anyone else. His life, a maelstrom of regrets, had dragged him to this point, and try as he might, he could not escape that bitter mix of rage and hopelessness. Sometimes, in his darkest nights, he wished that everything would vanish into emptiness, that the weight of existing would finally disappear.

He wanted, with every fiber of his being, to close that circle.

"Ah, Jaehyun, always a pleasure to see you," Sooman said, leaning back in his chair with an icy, calculating smile, interlocking his hands with the false familiarity of one who controls the board.

Jaehyun felt the poison burn inside him. Disgust twisted his stomach, and that sneering smile of Sooman's only made his insides boil even more. He loathed the man with an intensity he could almost taste on his tongue. He faked a strained smile.

"I could say the same."

Fake it till you make it.

The thought passed fleetingly, and he tried to cling to it, but the hatred ate him.

"The last time we saw each other wasn't very pleasant," Sooman commented, dropping even more comfortably into his chair, as if enjoying the memory. Jaehyun's jaw immediately tensed. The memories of the beatings were still etched on his skin, and in his memory. Pain. Anger. Shame. All jumbled into a poisonous tangle. "That's why I want to make it up to you with a job."

Jaehyun could barely process that he was sitting there, across from Lee Sooman, listening to his offer, swallowing his disgust. He had heard everything Mark Lee had confessed, every word about the dark side of his boss that seemed to have no end. Deep down, all Jaehyun wanted was to make him pay, to see him suffer as he had seen his father, his Uncle Dong, Winwin suffer. Each of them had felt Sooman's merciless fist in their lives, and he was the last piece to fall.

Everything in him screamed to break the balance, to let the anger out. He wanted peace, but at the same time, he wanted to destroy everything.

The tension in Jaehyun's body increased. Make it up to him? The word felt like a taunt, but his voice was controlled, cold.

"What's this about?" asked Jaehyun, exhaling a sigh, as if by releasing the air he could release some of the weight in his chest.

Sooman smiled, with twisted satisfaction, and pulled his chair closer to the desk. "You see, in three weeks I have a trade. Trouble is, I don't want to, nor do I plan to, do it alone. I could take Cheol Uk with me, but I'd rather have him stay here, on this side of the pond...in case things get complicated," he explained, crossing his arms with the arrogant assurance of one who knows he controls all the strings. "And I think you'd be perfect company."

"What kind of exchange?" asked Jaehyun, though deep down he already sensed the answer.

"Weapons."

The shock of that word fell on him like a brick, a weight he couldn't shake. Jaehyun felt his body stiffen. He'd been in dangerous situations before, he'd played with fire and survived, he was a dealer in Neo Zone. But he knew that accepting that would mean crossing an invisible and final line. He would be transformed into someone even more embroiled in the chaos of the gang, with his hands stained with something he could never wash off.

It was hard to resist, but it was just as hard to accept.

"It'll be quick," Sooman continued, studying Jaehyun's every gesture like a predator watching its prey. "Just outside the city. If all goes well, it won't take more than an hour." he noticed the tension in Jaehyun's gaze, the hesitation he was struggling to keep hidden, and leaned toward him slightly. "I'm asking you because I trust you."

The words fell like a taunt. Jaehyun felt his blood boil, how his skin almost throbbed from pent up rage. His right hand clenched into a fist on his leg, trying to restrain the urge to get up and smash something, anything that would allow him to release what was burning inside him. How dare Sooman speak of trust, to pretend there was anything sincere between them? After all the damage he had sown around him?

But what choice did he have left? Deep down, Sooman's control was absolute.

"What's the pay?"

"Enough to cover six months of your friend's rehab," Sooman replied, his eyes locking on Jaehyun's, pressing right where he knew it hurt.

The mention of rehab was the final piece that fell, sealing his fate. Above all else, he needed the money. Above all else, there was someone else needing to get out of hell, and he couldn't let it drop. He closed his eyes for a moment, swallowing the pain that mingled with anger and despair.

"I'll do it."

"I knew you wouldn't fail me," Sooman replied, satisfied, with a smile that seemed tainted with venom. "You are just like your father. My trust is in you, Jaehyun."

Jaehyun nodded, feeling the knot in his chest tighten, choking him.

Fake it till you make it.

Roll on, light it up, inhale, exhale.

Roll on, inhale, exhale.

Inhale... exhale.

Inhale.

One, two... three.

Exhale.

Jaehyun coughed loudly as he passed the joint to Lucas, who with shrunken, red eyes took it in his hands without hesitation, taking a puff to hold the smoke in his lungs for a few seconds and slowly draw it out.

In front of them was the panoramic view of SM City, the prominent lights of the northern area made the southern area look small, even though from a distance they didn't seem to be so far apart... so different.

If only that were the case.

"You know you don't have to do it," Lucas muttered, exhaling one last puff of smoke before dropping the cigarette to the ground and crushing it with the toe of his shoe. His gaze, fixed on the ground, hid the trace of worry in his eyes.

Jaehyun continued to stare at the lights of the city, each bright spot fading into the distance, like the possibilities he once had and now seemed to be extinguished. His voice came out almost as a whisper, broken and strained. "It's six months of treatment, Lucas. "Winwin... Winwin has started to move his hand. It's a little acomplishment, I know. But it's a step, and I can't... I can't let that stop now." Each word was an effort, a confession that, deep down, that small breakthrough gave him a hope that felt forbidden in his life.

Lucas was silent for a few seconds, watching Jaehyun's profile, his rigid posture and the shadow of weariness in his gaze. "I thought you didn't want to do anything related to Sooman."

Jaehyun swallowed saliva. He thought so too. He had tried to escape Sooman's influence, that world that brought only destruction, but reality always caught up with him. He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and sketched a bitter smile, one that barely disguised the lump forming in his throat.

"I thought so too, but you and Mark have said so, haven't you? If I try to do anything about it, not a week goes by before I'm found with a bullet in my head." His voice cracked in bitterness. "Tell me, what other choice do I have?"

Lucas let out a deep sigh, as if searching for the words amidst a cloud of dark thoughts. Then his voice was firm and determined. "I'll do it."

Jaehyun turned his head in surprise and looked directly at him. His eyes, reddened with fatigue and smoke, met his friend's. Then he let out a dry laugh, without a hint of mirth, and patted him on the back.

"Jaehyun." The name left Lucas' lips grimly, stopping him in his tracks. "I know we've said all our lives that the only one who had a chance of getting out of this shit was Winwin...but we know he's not the only one. Maybe I'm not smart enough, but I know you are. You could go to college, get away from all this. You're good at math, you're good at sports... You've got something out there, something worth more than I could ever have." Lucas looked at him with almost desperate seriousness. "Let me make the trade for you. You've got a lot more to lose."

His friend's words hit him like a truth he had tried to ignore. He pondered them silently, letting each one settle in his mind. He appreciated Lucas' attempt, his desperate proposal to sacrifice his own life to protect him, but he knew he could not allow it.

With an effort, he kept his voice steady, even though he felt each word plunging him deeper into his own emptiness. "I appreciate your... nobility, dude. But I will not let you risk your life to save mine. That's not something I can accept."

Lucas exhaled sharply, frustrated. His words came out cutting, in a last-ditch attempt to talk some sense into him. "Do you want to end up like your father, like Uncle Dong?" The mention of both names made Jaehyun tense, his fists clenching tightly until his knuckles turned white.

Jaehyun didn't respond. He turned around and started walking towards his car, trying to stifle the anger and pain boiling inside him. He could hear Luke's footsteps following him, the echoes of his words echoing in his head.

"We know I'll end up like that someday..." he muttered, without turning around. The resignation in his voice was a shock to both him and his friend.

But then, Lucas said something that forced him to stop, "What about (Y/N)?"

The name made his whole body freeze, (Y/N). He could see her in his mind, feel the warmth of her laughter, the twinkle in her eyes. She was the only light in the midst of his darkness, the only memory he dared to cherish in his loneliest moments. Inside him, where no one else could see him, was where he allowed her to exist, a longing he would never dare to confess.

"There is nothing with her." His voice was a harsh whisper, as if in saying it he was tearing out a piece of himself. He didn't even turn, just let it escape into the wind. "There can't be."

"I thought you were having something," Lucas confessed, stepping closer to stand in front of him, forcing him to look at him. "Maybe you can't see it, but anyone would notice. You don't have to say it, Jaehyun. It shows in your eyes every time you talk about her. You want something with her, anything. You're going to risk that by getting more into this shit?" Lucas waved his hand, almost unable to control himself. "We were doing relatively well selling those packages. At least we could pay for Winwin's treatment. But now... Weapons? What will they ask you to do next? Assaults? Robberies?" his voice deepened, and Jaehyun noticed the fear in his eyes. "Kills? Do you think (Y/N) would want to see you in that hell?"

Jaehyun closed his eyes and took a breath. Lucas' words drilled into him, burned inside him, but he couldn't accept them. He couldn't accept a possibility that he knew would end up hurting (Y/N).

Finally, he opened his eyes and looked at Lucas directly, with a forced coldness that tried to hide the storm inside him. "And what do you want me to do, Lucas? She doesn't deserve a life like mine. She needs to be away from all this...away from me. I could only drag her into this hole from which there is no way out." The words came out fast, almost angrily, but at the end his voice cracked. "I can't offer her anything, do you understand? Nothing worthwhile."

Lucas lowered his gaze, but his voice still reflected desperation to save him. "But you have something to offer, Jaehyun. Your life. A life that can still go somewhere, that can be something different." She looked at him pleadingly. "Don't make the trade. Don't get yourself into this anymore. You have a way out, even if you don't want to see it."

Jaehyun's decision was like a stone inside him, a sinking certainty, but it was the only thing that gave him stability at the moment. He averted his gaze to the city lights and quietly sealed his fate.

"I have to do it." The determination in his voice was unwavering. "It's already decided."

Lucas watched him silently, with a sadness so deep it was almost palpable. He knew, deep inside him, that he was losing another friend. The night closed in around them and under the stars, as the lights of the city shone in the distance, he knew that, in some sense, he had already lost his friend.

When (Y/N) got out of Jungwoo's car, the roars of the engines echoed in her ears, but despite the noise, her mind was somewhere else, anchored in a memory. The first time she set foot in Neo Zone, it had been a curiosity, an adventure she didn't fully understand. Now, that same place seemed just as intimidating, but different. This time she was not an outsider spectator. This time, she was there for him.

People's gazes were instantly fixed on her. Some with curiosity, others with disdain. The gleam in her eyes was not the same as those of the "normals" around her in her world. No, here the gazes were sharper, like knives, trying to strip her of her essence, her privilege. She felt out of place, and though in some corner of her mind she knew she would never be part of this world, at that moment all she cared about was finding him. Jaehyun.

The lights of the cars reflected the tense and charged atmosphere of the race track, where the local gangs came to show off their cars and gamble more than they should. She knew what she was up against, and if she had learned anything over the past few months, it was that, in that place, the rules were few, but fierce.

So she wasn't surprised when a familiar and unpleasant face emerged from the crowd. Chris, with that sly grin, who always seemed to have a second purpose behind every word.

"Well, look what we have here," he said, his voice laden with derision. "After Johnny's party, I didn't expect you to be one od Jaehyun's toys."

( Y/N) tried to keep her cool, her body rigid and her gaze steady. There was something about that guy that always made her feel small, as if his words were thorns thrown on purpose. But she had no time for games now. She wasn't here to confront Chris, only to find Jaehyun. "Let me through, Chris," she said, her voice cold, firm.

But he didn't let her go so easily. He stepped between her and the pass, and his hand brazenly strayed to her waist. A touch she didn't ask for, a brush she didn't want.

"Oh no, baby," he said, his tone low, like a challenge. "I think you owe me a debt for that punch you gave me, remember?"

( Y/N) she felt irritation bubbling inside her, but she wasn't going to lose her composure. Not here, not now. But she wasn't going to give in either. "Let go of me, or I swear I'll hit you again," she retorted, pushing lightly against his chest, hands firm. It wasn't what she wanted, but it was what she had to do. She wasn't going to let Chris touch her.

Chris laughed, but it wasn't a genuine laugh. It was mocking, calculating, as if he enjoyed the power he thought he had over her. "Can you imagine what Jaehyun will think when he sees me with one of his toys?" The malice in his voice left no room for doubt. He knew what he was doing, and he knew he had something he could use against her.

( Y/N) didn't answer right away. Her gaze wandered, searching through the crowd, and there, like a magnet, she found him. Jaehyun. He was far away, but she could feel the intensity of his gaze, the weight of his presence. And it wasn't just any glimpse, no. She knew she had seen him. His posture was rigid, his face annoyed, his eyes burning with a silent fire.

"Turn around to find out for yourself," Jaehyun said, his deep voice cutting through the air. It was not a suggestion. It was an order, firm, authoritative. At that moment, the threat was clear. "Let her go and get the fuck out of herr if you don't want that fucking smile wiped off your face. Remember, you're in my zone."

Chris hesitated for a second, then let go of (Y/N), as if Jaehyun's presence was a steel wall repelling him. Looking at Jaehyun as if he would challenge him, but knowing that this was not his territory. Jaehyun's area, yes, but not his.

Before walking away, however, he couldn't help but throw one last malice-laden glance towards (Y/N). "Call me when you get tired of him, gorgeous," he said venomously, not caring that his words were only empty provocation.

When Chris finally disappeared into the crowd, (Y/N) didn't hesitate for a second. He walked straight towards Jaehyun, until she was right behind him, the sound of his footsteps drowned out by the bustle of the arena. Feeling his presence so close gave her a strange sense of calm, but also aroused an uneasiness she didn't know how to handle.

Jaehyun turned slowly toward her. His expression was hard to read, but the frustration was evident. As always, he was trying to maintain control, but he couldn't hide the annoyance. In one swift movement, he grabbed her wrist, holding it firmly, forcing her to look him in the eye.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" he asked, anger tinged with palpable discomfort. His tone was low, dangerous. He wasn't saying it out loud for all to hear, but it was as if his words cut through the air between them.

( Y/N) felt a knot in her stomach. The worry, the confusion, the need to explain herself, but also the frustration of knowing that she had no right to be there, that this world was not hers. However, she could not lie. "I was looking for you," she said, without thinking, without fear of what that might mean.

"You weren't answering my calls. I wanted to know how you were..." she confessed, feeling Jaehyun pull her gently through the crowd to get her away from the people.

Finally, after pushing through the sea of people, they found themselves in a quieter corner. Jaehyun let go of her hand and turned to face her.

It was at that moment that he saw the pain reflected in her eyes. The girl, her gaze fixed on him, fiddled nervously with her fingers, as if trying to calm her anxiety.

"(Y/N), I'm fine. You didn't have to come and get into this," he told her in a low voice.

"You could have answered my calls," she demanded, her voice strained. "I didn't know how you were after what happened at my house almost a week ago."

Jaehyun looked her straight in the eye and slowly denied.

"That night I shouldn't have gone to your house."

What...?

"What are you talking about, Jaehyun?" she asked, almost in a whisper, surprised by those words.

Because deep down he knew he was right. That night he shouldn't have crossed that line, shouldn't have sought comfort from her, shouldn't have allowed the girl to sneak into his head and heart like that. He should not have allowed the closeness between them to make him vulnerable.

He shouldn't have thought he deserved something like that.

Because he didn't. He never would.

"Why is it that every time we seem to be moving forward, you decide to pull back?" she asked him, her voice breaking.

"Because there shouldn't be an us, (Y/N)," Jaehyun replied, serious, as if the words hurt him as much as they hurt her. "And you know it."

She tried to process what she had just heard, but her mind was still spinning, entwined with thoughts that wouldn't leave her alone. Coming here, meeting him...it had all been a whirlwind. Her cousin's words that morning still echoed in her mind.

That was not what she had expected to hear from Jaehyun.

"No, Jaehyun. I don't know," she said, frustrated, her eyes flashing with a mixture of confusion and anger. "All I know is that there's something inside me that binds me to you. I always end up looking for something in you, something I don't understand. And the least I understand is that you somehow get close and then walk away like it's nothing."

She moved closer to him and, with a trembling finger, pressed it against his chest, accusingly.

"If I walk away it's because you don't need this life, (Y/N)," he told her, with a painful tenderness in his voice. "I can't give you the life you want."

"I'm not asking you for anything extraordinary, Jaehyun," she replied, almost begging for him to understand. "I'm not asking you for more than what we already are."

Jaehyun looked at her, searching her eyes as if he wanted her to understand something beyond words. With the distance between them so short that their breaths were intertwined, he continued with a sigh.

"But look at me, (Y/N), look at us," he said softly. "I'll never be able to offer you the life you're used to. And I don't want you to get used to mine, because it's not something you deserve." Her voice deepened. "You don't know what it's like to live with necessities, without luxuries. It's not something I can ask you to change or sacrifice for me."

She bit her lower lip, trying to take in what she had just heard.

She was silent for a few seconds, biting her lower lip as her mind tried to process every word Jaehyun had just said. Her chest felt tight, as if his words were a weight on her, an uncomfortable truth that hurt, but one she knew she couldn't ignore.

Jaehyun closed his eyes.

"No, I don't," she finally admitted, looking down at the floor. "I don't know what it's like to live with those hardships..."

Silence fell between them again. The distant murmur of people seemed to grow farther and farther away, as if the world around them was fading away.

"(Y/N), you deserve better than this. Something more... something more stable. I can't be that something for you," Jaehyun said, his voice trembling for an instant.

She realized what he meant. She knew it wasn't just about the material. She knew that what Jaehyun was telling her went beyond external difficulties. He didn't want to be a risk to her, didn't want her life to be dragged down by the uncertainty, by the confusion he himself felt.

"And yet... I can't stop looking for you," she murmured, with a sad, almost defeated smile. "I don't understand what's wrong with me, Jaehyun. I don't understand why everything seems clearer when I'm around you, but then it blurs, it becomes all so confusing."

Jaehyun watched her, unable to find the right words. All he knew was that there was an undeniable connection between them, something even he couldn't explain. But, at the same time, he couldn't deny the fear he felt that this connection would drag them into something neither of them could control.

"I'm sorry," he finally said, his words sounding almost like an apology to himself. "I really am sorry."

She stared at him, as if she expected him to say something else, something that might make sense of everything she felt. But he didn't. Instead, the air between them was filled with a quiet awkwardness.

"So what do we do now?" she asked, voice cracking, but determined not to give up.

Jaehyun took a deep breath, staring ahead as if searching for some answer in the void. "I don't know. But I need you to understand that I don't want to hurt you. I don't want you to end up trapped in my world..."

She denied slowly, not looking away. "So is that it, then, we're just going to keep taking a step forward and then step back? Is that what you want?"

"It's not that," Jaehyun replied, somewhat at a loss. "It's just that I can't offer you what you deserve."

"What about what I want?" she said, on an impulse that surprised her. "Because all I want...is to be with you."

Her words hit him hard. Jaehyun couldn't say he felt the same way, not in the same way. But he couldn't help but think that, maybe, if they both allowed themselves to take that leap... maybe things could be different.

"I'm telling you that I can't give you what you want," he repeated, now with a slight desperation in his tone. "And yet, I feel like I can't walk away from you."

She looked at him silently for a few seconds, trying to find some answer that wouldn't leave her more confused. Finally, she took a step back, letting the air between them grow colder.

"So... what do we do, Jaehyun?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. "Because I don't know if I can keep waiting for something I don't know if it's coming."

Jaehyun looked at her, his heart pounding. He could see the pain in her eyes, and it broke him inside. But at the same time, he knew he couldn't drag her down with him, couldn't ask her to settle for something he couldn't offer.

"The only thing I can do now...is tell you the truth," he said, almost breathlessly. "I'm not going to drag you into my life without you knowing what you're getting into."

She stood still, staring at the floor, as if processing every word. An invisible weight seemed to fall on her shoulders, and though her thoughts were chaotic, a small part of her knew she had to make a decision.

"So, you decide for me?" she asked, raising her head, her eyes filled with a mixture of frustration and sadness.

Jaehyun said nothing. His silence was answer enough.

Finally, Jaehyun, his throat tightening, slowly pulled away, knowing that any further attempts to get closer would only cause more pain. "I'm sorry," he said one last time, almost as a whisper, and took a step back.

And (Y/N) watched him walk away, her heart heavy, knowing there was nothing more to do. She stood alone in that dark corner of Neo Zone, with the noise of the engines rumbling around her, like a distant echo of the emotional storm she had just experienced.

a/n: I hope you liked even though in took me weeeeeeks to post hahaha, love y'all! NOT PROOFREAD! I’ve been sitting down like 4 hours trying to come with the chapter so now I’ll go to sleep 😴.

taglist is open! if you want to be added just lemme know;)

taglist: @spicyryujin @daegalismybiasinnct @peachfulnight @gojoscumslut @bluedbliss @dear-97 @girlwholovespreppyattire @hana-off-icial @cigarettesafterjae @beomgyusonlywife @bts-iris @doejaejung @methneo @kriizztin @mrsuhnshine @pieddpiperr (idk why some of the tags just don’t work out!)

If you want to ask me something, feel free to send them!

[dattebasa]

me: ok seriously now! time to get my shit together

also me: /re-reads crossfire in two days after quitting at work

🤡

[lostfracturess]

THREE LITTLE WORDS — SATORU GOJO

pairing — satoru gojo x gn!reader

summary — for twenty-four years, satoru gojo has carried three little words on the tip of his tongue, never daring to speak them aloud. growing up as the strongest sorcerer comes with its burdens, and loving someone means putting them at risk. but when you're about to marry someone else, satoru finally realizes that sometimes the biggest risk is never taking one at all.

word count — 7.4 k

genre/tags — childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining, slow burn, hurt/comfort, fluff, protective gojo, idiots in love

warnings — no explicit content (only kissing), mild violence mentions, references to injuries, angst, alcohol use, mentions of arranged marriages, family pressure, reference to assassination attempts

author's note — hey lovelies, with everything that's going on rn, i wanted to write something cute to maybe make someone smile today. there's a little bit of angst in this (sorry, yk me), but mostly it's (bitter)sweet moments. and i tried to keep it somewhat canon-compliant, but maybe not really. and i've written this with gender-neutral pronouns to ensure everyone can see themselves in this story. if you notice any places where i might have slipped up, please let me know.

masterlist

Three little words.

Just eight letters that had lived on the tip of Satoru Gojo's tongue for what felt like forever, desperately wanting to spill from his lips every time he saw you. 

Three words that had haunted him through the years, through scraped knees and graduation gowns, through first dates and near-death experiences.

I love you.

Simple words that carried the weight of universes, that could change everything — or destroy it all. And so, he'd held them back, let them sit heavy in his chest, like a weight that pressed against his lungs with every breath.

Because loving a Gojo wasn't easy. It never had been.

Love had always been a foreign concept to him. Growing up in the Gojo clan meant learning about power before learning about affection, mastering close combat before understanding emotions. 

Love was abstract, complex, something other people seemed to grasp naturally while he watched from behind barriers of privilege and power.

But with you? With you, it had been as clear as breathing.

It hadn't been the dramatic, earth-shattering revelation movies always promised. Instead, it was quiet, constant, like realizing the sun had always been there, warming his skin. It was in the way you shared your lunch without being asked, how you never flinched when his powers flared, how you rolled your eyes at his dramatics but smiled anyway.

Love had been the easiest thing in the world when it came to you. Understanding it, feeling it, living it — that part was simple.

It was everything else that was complicated.

Because Satoru knew what happened to people the Gojos loved. He'd seen it, lived it, carried the weight of those consequences since before he could walk. Love, in his world, wasn't just about feelings — it was about target signs and weaknesses, about giving your enemies a roadmap straight to your heart.

And your heart? That was something he couldn't bear to put at risk.

So he had learned to swallow those words, to tuck them away behind smirks and jokes and casual touches that never lasted quite long enough. He had become an expert at loving you silently, at pouring all those unspoken feelings into small acts of protection, of care, of presence.

Some days, the words would claw at his throat like living things, desperate to escape. On those days, he'd find himself watching you — the way you moved, the sound of your laugh, the simple fact of your existence in his complicated world — and the urge to confess would be almost unbearable.

But then he'd remember all the attempts on his life, all the enemies who would love nothing more than to hurt him through you, all the danger that came with the name Gojo, and the words would retreat back into his chest where they lived like a constant ache.

Loving you had been the easiest thing Satoru had ever done. Keeping that love silent had been the hardest.

✦ . 　⁺ Age 6 ⁺ 　 . ✦

The first time Satoru realized he wanted to say those words to you, he had been six years old and you were crying because some older kids stole your favorite crayon. You had both been sitting in the reading corner of your kindergarten classroom, and your tears were making his chest hurt in a way he didn't understand.

"Don't cry," he had said, reaching out to pat your head like his mom did when he was sad. "I'll get it back for you."

You had sniffled, looking up at him with those wide, watery eyes that made his little heart skip. "But they're bigger than you."

He had puffed up his chest. "So? I'm stronger."

Before you could stop him, he had marched right up to the group of second graders during recess. They towered over him, but Satoru hadn't cared. He was a Gojo, after all, and Gojos didn't back down.

Ten minutes later, he had been sitting in the principal's office with a bloody nose and a black eye, but clutched triumphantly in his hand was your favorite crayon. The principal had called his parents, of course. There was talk of his "concerning behavior" and "excessive force," but all Satoru could think about was how your whole face had lit up when he handed you back that crayon.

That night, as his mother tucked him into bed, she had asked him why he did it. And he simply said because you were sad.

His mother had given him a look that he wouldn't understand until years later. "The Gojo men have always been weak to those they love," she had told him, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

He had wanted to tell you then, as you colored together the next day, carefully sharing that rescued crayon. The words had bubbled up in his chest like soda fizz, but he had swallowed them down. Because even at six, he knew that being around him meant trouble, and he didn't want to see you cry again.

✦ . 　⁺ Age 12 ⁺ 　 . ✦

Middle school had brought new challenges and new reasons to keep those words locked away. 

Satoru had started to understand what it meant to be a Gojo — the weight of the name, the expectations, the suffocating responsibilities that seemed to grow heavier with each passing day.

You were still there, though, somehow always by his side despite the chaos that surrounded him. When other kids whispered about his family, about the strange things that happened around him, you just rolled your eyes and shared your lunch with him like nothing was wrong.

He had nearly said it one autumn afternoon when you were both sprawled on your bedroom floor, supposedly doing homework but really just talking about nothing and everything. The late sunlight had caught your features just right, and you were laughing at something stupid he had said, and the words had almost slipped out.

But then his phone had rung. It had been his father, summoning him to an urgent clan meeting.

Another reminder of the life that awaited him — endless meetings about maintaining the Gojo name, about upholding traditions centuries old, about sacrificing personal happiness for the sake of the clan's future.

As he had sat in that austere meeting room, surrounded by stern-faced elders discussing bloodlines and duties and arranged marriages, all he could think about was your laugh from earlier that afternoon. How free it had sounded, how untainted by the weight of expectations and tradition.

How could he tell you he loved you when being with him meant dragging you into this world of rigid traditions and suffocating responsibilities? When loving him meant you might have to give up everything you held dear?

So he had swallowed the words once again, buried them deep, even as they burned in his chest like embers that refused to die. Because he would rather suffer in silence than watch the weight of the Gojo name dim the spark in your eyes.

✦ . 　⁺ Age 16 ⁺ 　 . ✦

High school was when Satoru had started deliberately pushing people away. He had built walls of arrogance and casual flirtation, keeping everyone at arm's length while making it look effortless. He dated casually, never seriously, and cultivated a reputation as someone who didn't do relationships.

Everyone had bought it except you.

You saw right through him, just like you always had. You called him out on his bullshit, threw erasers at his head when he was being particularly obnoxious, and somehow still showed up at his house with his favourite sweets when he was sick.

"Your ego's getting too big for this classroom," you'd tell him whenever he started showing off. He'd just grin and make it worse, because your exasperated sighs had become his favorite sound.

During lunch breaks, while others gathered around his desk trying to get his attention, you'd just roll your eyes and steal food from his plate. He'd pretend to be annoyed, but he had started packing extra of your favorites, just to watch you light up when you found them.

High school had also been the time when the clan's pressure had threatened to crush him. Every day brought new expectations, new techniques to master, new reminders that he wasn't just Satoru but the future of the Gojo clan.

He never told you, but your presence had kept him sane. You had been the only one allowed to see him practice with his cursed technique, sitting on the sidelines of the training grounds doing homework while he worked himself to exhaustion.

On the days when the pressure of being the strongest got too heavy, you'd wordlessly share your earbuds with him, letting him rest his head on your shoulder while some silly pop song played between you. And you'd hold his hand, and he'd squeeze back so tight it almost hurt.

In those moments, the words had been right there, sitting on his tongue. But he couldn't. Not when your friendship was the one pure thing in his complicated life.

But the words had nearly escaped one night when you were both sneaking back into town after a concert two cities over. You had been wearing his jacket because you forgot yours, and you were singing off-key to some pop song on the radio, and his heart had felt so full it might burst.

But then he had spotted a car that had been following them for the last twenty minutes, and instead of confessing, he had to lose the tail while pretending everything was fine. You never noticed, too caught up in your impromptu karaoke session, and he had been grateful for that at least.

He had driven you home in silence after that, the words buried so deep he could barely breathe around them. You had fallen asleep against the window, blissfully unaware of how close he'd come to changing everything between you.

✦ . 　⁺ Age 18 ⁺ 　 . ✦

College had brought a new kind of torture. Because then he had to watch you date other people, normal people who didn't have assassination attempts over breakfast or cursed energy that could level cities.

He still kept you close, though. He couldn't help it. You were his gravity, his true north, the one constant in his chaotic life. You were still the person who brought him coffee during all-nighters, who listened to his ridiculous theories at 3 AM, who somehow knew exactly when he needed a hug even though he'd never admit it.

The campus had whispered about it — about how the untouchable Satoru Gojo let you into his space so easily, how you were the only one who could barge into his dorm at any hour without fear of consequence. 

They wondered what made you special, what kind of hold you had over him. If they only knew how many times he had bitten back those three words when you'd fallen asleep on his shoulder during late-night study sessions, or how his heart had nearly burst when you'd chosen to spend the evening with him instead of going to that party your crush had invited you to.

The words had almost broken free during your sophomore year, when you had shown up at his door at midnight, crying because someone broke your heart. He had held you while you sobbed, stroked your hair, and plotted seventeen different ways to destroy the person who hurt you (he had only acted on three of them, and nobody could prove anything).

He remembered how you had curled into his side that night, hiccupping through tears about how you "just wanted someone who understood you."

The irony had burned in his throat — he understood you better than anyone, had mapped every constellation of your moods and meanings, had memorized every shade of your smile.

But understanding wasn't enough when being with him meant inheriting all his complications.

You had fallen asleep in his bed that night, wrapped in his favorite hoodie, and he had spent hours just watching you breathe, his heart aching with how much he wanted to keep you there forever.

When morning came, you had smiled at him over coffee and thanked him for being "the best friend anyone could ask for," and each word had felt like a knife between his ribs.

He had wanted to tell you then, had wanted to show you how you should be loved — wholly, fiercely, eternally. But he knew he couldn't offer you the normal life you deserved, so he had swallowed the words again and just held you tighter.

Instead, he had channeled all those unspoken feelings into being the kind of friend you needed. He walked you home from late parties, threatened anyone who looked at you wrong and pretended it didn't kill him every time you gushed about a new crush. 

What you had never told him was that each crush faded as quickly as it came, because somehow they all fell short of the impossible standard he had unknowingly set.

He became an expert at loving you from arm's length, at being everything you needed while hiding how much he needed you.

The worst part was how naturally it all came to him — how easy it was to be the one you turned to, to be your safe harbor in every storm. Because loving you had always been as natural as breathing, even when it hurt.

Especially when it hurt.

College became an impossible balance of keeping you close enough to stay in your life but far enough away to keep his heart from completely shattering.

He dated casually, built up his reputation as someone who didn't do commitment, all while knowing that the only person he'd ever wanted to commit to was right there, wearing his hoodies and stealing his fries and completely oblivious to how much power you held over him.

✦ . 　⁺ Age 22 ⁺ 　 . ✦

After graduation, you had both somehow ended up in the same city. Different jobs, different lives, but still orbiting each other like you always had.

You dated other people, and so did he (sort of), but you still met for coffee every Wednesday and dinner every Sunday, still texted each other random thoughts at inappropriate hours.

Those Wednesday coffee meetings had become sacred. He'd show up at your workplace, two cups in hand — one with less sugar but lots of milk, the way you liked it, and his own ridiculously sweet like his smile, as you always teased. 

He had memorized your schedule, knew which days you worked late, which mornings you had important meetings. On the nights when your job kept you at the office past midnight, he'd lurk nearby, pretending he just happened to be in the area when you finally emerged exhausted. 

You'd roll your eyes but accept his offer to walk you home, and he'd fight the urge to take your hand every step of the way.

Sunday dinners were even worse for his heart. Sometimes you'd cook (badly), sometimes he'd order in (expensively), but it always felt so domestic it hurt.

The way you'd steal bites from his plate, like you always used to do, how you'd curl up on his couch afterward like you belonged there, the casual way you'd rest your feet in his lap while watching movies — it was everything he wanted and nothing he could keep.

The words had nearly escaped during one of those Sunday dinners, when you were both a little drunk on wine and nostalgia, laughing about all the trouble you had gotten into growing up. You had looked at him with such fondness, such understanding, and he had almost broken.

"Remember when you punched that guy at the bar who wouldn't leave me alone?" you had asked, cheeks flushed from wine and laughter.

"Which time?" he had replied, only half-joking. There had been several instances, each one burning in his memory because how dare anyone make you uncomfortable.

"All of them," you had laughed, reaching over to poke his cheek. "My hero."

The word had squeezed his heart like a fist. Hero. If only you knew how selfish his protection had always been, how each act of defending you had been as much about his own possessive need to keep you safe as it was about your wellbeing.

You had shifted closer on the couch then, laying your head on his shoulder in that casual way that always made his breath catch and his fingers had itched to run through your hair, to tilt your face up to his, to finally close the distance he'd been maintaining for so many years. 

The words had risen in his throat like a tide. But then his phone had buzzed with an alert about another threat, another mission, another reason why loving him was dangerous, and he had bitten his tongue until he tasted blood.

✦ . 　⁺ Age 25 ⁺ 　 . ✦

It had gotten harder as the years passed. Harder to watch you live your life, harder to keep pretending he didn't want to be more than your best friend, harder to keep those three words locked away.

He had started taking more dangerous missions, throwing himself into his work with reckless abandon. Because if he was busy fighting curses and saving the world, he couldn't think about how much he wanted to kiss you, to hold you, to finally let those words free.

At least, that's what he had told himself as he accepted increasingly risky assignments, each one a little more dangerous than the last.

The other sorcerers had started calling him reckless. But how could he explain that facing down cursed spirits was easier than facing the way you looked at him with such concern? That physical pain was a welcome distraction from the constant ache in his chest?

But you were still there, still calling him out when he was being stupid, still patching him up when he came back injured, still looking at him like he was someone beyond his name and his power.

He always saved one small injury for you to tend to — a scrape here, a bruise there — even though his reversed cursed technique had already healed the worst of his wounds. It had become your ritual, you'd patch him up at your apartment, your coffee table covered in supplies that he didn't really need, both of you pretending this wasn't an elaborate excuse to be close to each other.

"You're going to get yourself killed one of these days," you had muttered one particularly bad night, hands trembling slightly as you cleaned a gash on his forehead that would have healed on its own in seconds. But he had let you fuss over it anyway, selfishly savoring every gentle touch.

The words had almost broken free one night when you were stitching up a particularly nasty wound on his side. Your hands had been gentle but your lecture was harsh, telling him off for being so careless with his life.

He could have healed it himself — you both knew that — but he had wanted your hands on him, even if they came with a scolding.

"You're not immortal, you idiot," you had said, and there were tears in your eyes that made his heart clench. "I know you think you're invincible, but you're not. What am I supposed to do if something happens to you?"

The raw emotion in your voice had nearly undone him. He had wanted to tell you then that he only acted so reckless because loving you from afar was slowly killing him anyway. That every mission, every fight, was just another way to exhaust himself enough that he wouldn't do something stupid like confess his feelings and ruin everything between you.

Instead, he had just made a joke about being too pretty to die, and pretended not to notice when you wiped your eyes. But he had caught your hand as you turned away, held it perhaps a moment too long, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in what he hoped felt like reassurance.

Your apartment had become his retreat those days. He would show up at odd hours, sometimes bleeding, sometimes just exhausted, and you would let him in without question. You never asked why he came to you instead of using his technique to heal himself. Maybe you had known, just like he had, that these moments weren't really about the injuries at all.

There had been nights when he'd fall asleep on your couch, lulled by the sound of you moving around your apartment, by the domestic comfort of knowing you were near. He'd wake up to find himself covered with a blanket, a glass of water on the coffee table, and his heart would ache with how much he wanted this to be his everyday reality.

Sometimes, in his weaker moments, he'd catch himself watching you as you worked on your laptop, curled up in the armchair across from him. The soft glow of the screen would wash over your features, and he'd think about how easy it would be to cross that small distance, to finally tell you everything he'd been holding back.

But then he'd remember the last mission, the close calls, the enemies who were getting stronger and bolder, and he'd force himself to look away. Because loving him had always come with a price, and he wasn't willing to make you pay it.

So he had buried those feelings deeper, thrown himself into more missions, and pretended that the ache in his chest was from the fights and not from loving you so much it physically hurt.

✦ . 　⁺ Age 28 ⁺ 　 . ✦

The breaking point had come, as these things often did, on an ordinary day.

You had both been in your apartment, having one of your regular movie nights. You were wearing old sweatpants and one of his hoodies that you had stolen years ago, there were takeout containers scattered across your coffee table, and you were arguing about whether the movie's plot made any sense.

It had been so normal, so comfortable, so perfectly you and him that something in his chest finally cracked.

Because he had realized, watching you gesture wildly about the movie's plot holes, that he had been an idiot. He had spent over two decades trying to protect you by keeping his distance, but you had been in danger this whole time anyway. Because everyone who knew him knew that you were his weakness, his soft spot, the one person who could bring the great Satoru Gojo to his knees.

And you had stayed anyway. Through every fight, every danger, every close call, you had chosen to stay in his life. You had patched his wounds, celebrated his victories, mourned his losses, and never once asked for anything in return except his friendship.

That night, he had decided tomorrow would be the day. No more waiting, no more excuses. He would finally tell you everything.

He had barely slept, spending hours picking out the perfect flowers, hoping they would help say everything his heart had been trying to tell you for years. He had practiced the words in his mirror, ran through a dozen different speeches, each one feeling more inadequate than the last.

But when he had arrived at your apartment building that morning, flowers clutched in sweaty palms and heart thundering in his chest, he had seen them through your living room window. You weren't alone. Someone else was there, someone who had made you throw your head back in laughter, who had pulled you close with an ease that made his chest constrict.

He had watched, frozen on the sidewalk, as you reached up to brush something from their cheek, the gesture so tender it had felt like a physical blow. The flowers in his hands had suddenly felt like they were made of lead.

Satoru had stood there for what felt like hours but was probably only minutes, watching you be happy with someone else, watching you shine so brightly for another person. Then, with movements that felt mechanical, he had dropped the flowers in a nearby trash can and walked away.

Three words, still unspoken, had burned in his throat with every step.

For weeks after that, he had thrown himself into missions like a madman, taking on the most dangerous assignments he could find. Anything to avoid thinking about how he had waited too long, how he had lost his chance.

But then you had called him one night, voice slightly slurred from wine, asking him to come over. And like always, he couldn't refuse you.

That's how he had found himself back in your apartment, watching you pace back and forth, ranting about how empty it all felt. How you had tried to move on, tried to find what everyone said you should want — a normal relationship, a simple life, someone safe.

"But it's not right," you had said, running your hands through your hair in frustration. "Nothing feels right. They're nice, they're perfect on paper, but—"

"But what?" he had asked, his heart in his throat.

"But they're not you," you had whispered, the words hanging in the air between you like suspended stars.

A movie had still been playing in the background, forgotten as you both stood there, years of unspoken feelings spilled on the floor. The weight of your confession had made it hard to breathe, and for a moment, just a moment, he had let himself imagine what it would be like to close the distance between you, to finally say the words that had lived in his heart for so long.

But then his phone had buzzed in his pocket — another threat, another reminder — and reality came crashing back.

"You can't," he had said, his voice rougher than he'd intended. "You can't say things like that."

"Why not?" You had taken a step toward him, and he had forced himself to take one back, watching hurt flash across your face. "Satoru, I've waited—"

"Then stop waiting," he had cut you off, hating himself for the way his words made you flinch. "This isn't—we can't—" A pause. "Do you know how many attempts there have been on my life this month alone? How many enemies would love to know that the great Satoru Gojo has someone he—" He had caught himself before the word 'loves' could escape. "Someone he cares about?"

"I'm not afraid—"

"Well, I am!" The words had burst from him with more force than he'd intended, making you both freeze. "I am terrified, okay? Because everyone I've ever—everyone who gets close to me ends up with a target on their back. And you—" His voice had softened despite himself. "You deserve better than that. Better than looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life, better than wondering if each goodbye might be the last."

"That's not your choice to make," you had said quietly, and the resignation in your voice had been worse than anger would have been.

"Yes, it is. Because I'm the one who would have to live with it if something happened to you because of me." He had straightened his shoulders, pulled on the mask he wore for everyone else — cold, untouchable, removed. "Go back to them. Find someone normal. Someone safe. Someone who can give you the life you deserve."

"And what about what I want?"

"Sometimes what we want isn't what's best for us." The words had left a bitter taste in his mouth.

You had looked at him for a long moment, tears gathering in your eyes, and he had dug his nails into his palms to keep from reaching for you. Finally, you had nodded once, sharp and hurt.

"Get out."

He had turned to leave, each step feeling like he was walking through concrete. At the door, he had paused, his hand on the handle.

"I'm sorry," he had whispered, not turning around. Because if he had looked at you then, his resolve would have crumbled entirely.

The soft click of the door closing behind him had sounded like the end of everything.

✦ . 　⁺ Age 30 ⁺ 　 . ✦

Two years of carefully maintained distance had felt like an eternity. The clan's pressure had mounted with each passing month — meetings about bloodlines, about duty, about carrying on the Gojo name. His parents had finally put their foot down, presenting him with a list of "suitable" candidates from other prestigious families.

Satoru had turned it into something of an art form, really — how to be just obnoxious enough, just impossible enough, that each carefully selected partner would run screaming for the hills without him technically refusing anyone.

"This is getting ridiculous," his mother had sighed after the seventh failed meeting. "Are you going to chase away every eligible human on this earth?"

Yes, he had wanted to say. Because none of them were you.

You still texted occasionally — surface-level messages about holidays or birthdays, the kind of distant politeness that felt wrong after decades of intimacy. He had saved every message anyway, re-reading them late at night when missions left him too restless to sleep.

Your contact photo was still the same one from college, you resting your head on his shoulder, laughing at something he’d said. He couldn’t bring himself to change it.

Sometimes he'd catch glimpses of you around the city. You'd cut your hair, changed jobs, moved to a new apartment. He knew all this from the careful distance he maintained, from the reports he definitely didn't ask Ijichi to give him.

You seemed... fine. Happy, even. It was what he'd wanted, he told himself. You, safe and happy, even if it was without him.

The invitation had arrived on a Tuesday.

The envelope had been cream-colored, expensive. His name written in elegant calligraphy that had made his stomach drop before he'd even opened it. Inside, the words had blurred together, except for the ones that mattered.

You were getting married.

To someone safe. Someone normal. Someone who could give you everything he couldn't.

The invitation had sat on his coffee table for days, taunting him. He'd catch himself staring at it during his morning coffee, during late-night mission reports, during every quiet moment when his mind wasn't occupied with staying alive.

Your handwritten note had been worse than the formal invitation.

'I'd really like you to be there. Please come.'

His phone had been in his hand before he'd realized it, your number still muscle memory after all this time. The cursor had blinked at him mockingly as he'd tried to formulate a response.

'Congratulations,' he had finally typed, each letter feeling like a small death. 'I'll be there.'

Because of course he would be. He'd sit there and watch you marry someone else, would paste on a smile and give a toast if asked, would pretend his heart wasn't being ripped from his chest with every word of the ceremony.

It was what he deserved, really. He had pushed you away, had made the choice for both of you, had convinced himself it was for the best. This was the consequence of his protection, the price of keeping you safe.

He had gotten drunk that night, alone in his apartment, surrounded by the ghosts of all the words he'd never said. The three most important ones still burned in his throat, unspoken after all these years.

His phone had buzzed with your reply. 'Thank you. It means a lot.'

Four words that had somehow hurt worse than the invitation itself.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The day of your wedding had dawned grey and miserable, as if the weather itself was matching Satoru's mood. He'd been away on a mission until the last possible moment, taking out his frustration on cursed spirits with perhaps more violence than strictly necessary.

He had arrived at the venue late, soaked from the rain, his suit probably ruined. But he'd promised to be there, and he'd never broken a promise to you before. He wasn't about to start now, even if it killed him.

But when he had made his way inside, he'd immediately sensed the chaos inside. Hushed, worried voices had carried through the open doors. "Has anyone seen them?" "The ceremony should have started twenty minutes ago." "Check the dressing room again!"

But Satoru had known exactly where to find you.

The venue's grounds had stretched back to a small lake, and there, beneath an old maple tree whose leaves provided little shelter from the rain, you had stood. Your wedding outfit was getting steadily soaked, but you hadn't seemed to notice or care, staring out at the rippling water.

He had approached slowly, drinking in the sight of you. Even with dirt stained cloths and dripping hair, you had been the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

"Everyone's looking for you," he had said softly.

You hadn't turned around. "I know."

"Three hundred people in there wondering where you've gone."

"Three hundred and one, now that you're here." Your voice had been quiet, almost lost in the rain. "Why are you here, Satoru?"

"You invited me."

"That's not what I meant." Finally, you had turned to face him, and the look in your eyes had made his heart stutter. "Why are you really here?"

He had taken a step closer, drawn to you like gravity, like always. "You know why."

"Do I?" Your voice was so small. "Because I thought I knew, once. I thought I knew a lot of things. But then you pushed me away, told me to find someone safe, someone normal." You had gestured toward the building behind you. "Well, I did. So why are you here?"

"I—"

He had caught sight of a small cut on his cheekbone in a puddle's reflection — the one injury he hadn't healed, the one he'd kept out of habit, out of the memory of your gentle hands patching him up all those years.

Your eyes had followed his, landing on the cut. Without seeming to think about it, you had reached up, fingers ghosting over the wound like they had a thousand times before. The familiar gesture had nearly broken him.

"Don't marry them," he had whispered.

"What?"

"Don't marry them," he had whispered again. "Please."

"Why not?" The question had been barely a whisper. "Give me a reason, Satoru. One real reason why I shouldn't walk back in there and marry someone who actually wants me."

"Because—" The words had stuck in his throat, years of habit holding them back.

"I love you," he had whispered, the words falling into the rain-soaked space between you, and suddenly he could breathe again. Twenty-four years of holding back, of swallowing those words, of carrying them like stones in his chest — and now they were free, floating in the air between you like butterflies finally released from their cage.

"I love you," he had said again, stronger this time. "I've loved you since we were kids. I've loved you through every fight, every mission, every time I tried to push you away for your own good. I've loved you so long I don't remember what it feels like not to love you."

"You—" Your voice had broken. "You idiot. You're telling me this now? When there are three hundred people waiting inside? When I've spent months trying to convince myself I could love someone else?"

"I know. I know, and I'm sorry, but—"

"Shut up," you had breathed, and then you had pulled him down by his lapels and kissed him.

He had kissed you back like a drowning man finding air, like coming home after a lifetime of wandering. Your lips had been cold from the rain but soft against his, and when you had melted against him, he'd felt something in his chest finally slot into place.

Years of careful control had shattered like glass, and he had wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you clean off the ground in a surge of desperate joy. You had gasped against his mouth, and he had taken the opportunity to deepen the kiss, pouring decades of longing into it.

He had spun you around, your hands threading through his wet hair as he held you against him like he was afraid you might disappear if he loosened his grip even slightly. Rain had continued to fall around you, but neither of you had noticed or cared.

His hands had splayed across your back, holding you impossibly closer as he kissed you like a man starved, like he was trying to make up for every kiss he should have given you over the years.

When you had broken apart, you were both breathing heavily, foreheads pressed together as the rain continued to fall around you. Your fingers had still been twisted in his jacket, and his hand had still been cradling your face like you were something precious, something he couldn't quite believe he was allowed to touch.

The weight of all those unspoken words, all those careful distances he'd maintained, all those moments he'd held himself back — it had all lifted away like mist in the morning sun. For the first time in twenty-four years, he had felt truly, completely free.

"You're so stupid," you had whispered, but you hadn't moved away. "There are three hundred people in there, expectations, plans, a whole life I'm supposed to—"

"Run away with me."

"What?"

"Run away with me," he had repeated, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes. "Right now. Let me take you anywhere you want to go. Let me spend the rest of my life making up for lost time, for every moment I was too scared to love you the way you deserved."

"Satoru—"

"I know it's selfish," he had continued, words tumbling out like he couldn't hold them back anymore. "I know I have no right to ask this of you, not after pushing you away. But I can't— I can't watch you marry someone else. I can't spend the rest of my life wondering what if, knowing I let you go without fighting for you."

You had laughed, the sound wavering between tears and joy. "You really are the most impossible man I've ever met."

"Is that a yes?"

"My parents will never forgive me."

"I'll win them over."

"The clan will be furious."

"Let them be."

"Everyone will talk."

"Let them talk." He had cupped your face in his hands, thumbs brushing away the rain and tears on your cheeks. "I don't care about any of that. I just care about you. About us. Everything else… we'll figure it out together."

"Together," you had repeated softly, like you were testing the word. "You won't push me away again? Try to protect me by leaving?"

"Never again," he had promised. "I'm done running. Done pretending I don't love you more than anything in this world. Done letting fear keep me from the only thing that's ever really mattered."

You had searched his face for a long moment, and he had let you see everything — all the love, the fear, the desperate hope he'd kept hidden for so long.

Finally, you had smiled, bright and real, the smile he'd fallen in love with all those years ago. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Take me away from here," you had said, and his heart had soared. "Show me what it's like when Satoru Gojo finally stops holding back."

He hadn't needed to be told twice. In one fluid motion, he had swept you into his arms, your surprised laugh warming something deep in his chest.

"What about everything inside? My things, the guests—"

"I'll send Ijichi to handle it," he had said, already walking away from the venue, from the life you'd almost had without him. "Right now, all that matters is you and me."

"And where exactly are you taking me?"

"Anywhere you want," he had promised, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Everywhere. We have a lifetime of moments to make up for, after all."

You had wrapped your arms around his neck, tucking your face against his shoulder. "I love you too, you know. In case that wasn't clear."

He had tightened his hold on you, something fierce and protective and overwhelmingly tender swelling in his chest. "Say it again."

"I love you, Satoru Gojo," you had whispered against his neck. "I always have."

As he had carried you away from the venue, the rain had finally begun to let up, sunlight breaking through the clouds. A new beginning, he had thought.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Looking back, Satoru couldn't believe how stupid he'd been. All those years wasted, all that time spent pushing you away when he could have been holding you close. He'd thought he was protecting you, but in reality, he'd just been protecting himself from the terrifying vulnerability of being truly, completely loved.

Because that's what you did — you loved him entirely, unconditionally, with a fierce devotion that still took his breath away. You loved him through the dangerous missions and the late-night emergencies, through the clan meetings and the political drama. You loved him through the nightmares and the victories, through every high and low that came with being Satoru Gojo.

Life wasn't perfect, of course. There were still threats, still enemies who thought they could use you to get to him. But they had learned, quickly and painfully, that you weren't some helpless weakness to exploit. You were his strength, his anchor, his reason for coming home safely every time.

Those old fears seemed ridiculous now. Because yes, loving him came with dangers — but you had always known that, had always chosen him anyway. And together, you were so much stronger than apart.

The clan had been furious about the wedding scandal, of course. But it was hard to maintain their anger when you handled every social situation with grace, when you proved yourself more than capable of standing beside the strongest sorcerer in the world.

Eventually, even the most traditional elders had to admit that perhaps the Gojo heir had chosen well after all.

Your old routine had shifted, evolved into something even better. Now when you patched up his wounds (the ones he still deliberately saved for you), he could kiss you afterward. When you fell asleep during movie nights, he could pull you close instead of maintaining that careful distance. When you brought him coffee during all-nighters, he could show his gratitude with more than just words.

The best part, though? The absolute best part was being able to say those three words whenever he wanted. And he said them constantly — whispered them against your skin in the morning, called them across rooms just to see you smile, breathed them into quiet moments like prayers.

"I love you" when you handed him his coffee, exactly how he liked it.

"I love you" when you rolled your eyes at his dramatic entrances.

"I love you" when you fell asleep on his shoulder during clan meetings.

"I love you" when you patched up injuries that didn't need patching.

"I love you" for no reason at all, just because he could, just because the words had lived in his heart for so long that letting them free still felt like a miracle.

And every time — every single time — you said it back, like you'd been waiting just as long to be able to say it freely.

Sometimes, on quiet nights when you were both home safe, he'd watch you doing something mundane — reading a book, making tea, existing in his space like you'd always belonged there — and the gratitude would hit him so hard he could barely breathe. Gratitude that you had waited, that you had loved him through his fears and his mistakes, that you had given him the chance to love you properly.

Because that's what he did now — loved you properly, openly, with everything he had. No more holding back, no more careful distance. He loved you the way you deserved to be loved — wholly, fiercely, eternally.

And every day, for the rest of his life, he made sure you knew it. Three words, eight letters, repeated like a promise, like a prayer, like the most important truth he'd ever known.

I love you.

And every day, for the rest of your life, you said it back.

author's note — after editing this, i realised it's more angsty then intended but oh my i'm sorry, i can't help it. but i hope it made you smile anyway. thank you from the bottom of my heart for taking the time to read this story. your support means the world to me. in these challenging times, please remember that even the darkest nights eventually give way to dawn. sending lots of love your way <3

ps: if you want to get notifications for future updates, you can join my taglist here!

tags — @fayuki @starmapz @saurondriell @starlightanyaaa @sxnkuna

@cocomanga @nanamis-baker @rosso-seta @shervinss @chiyokoemilia

@janbannan @bloopsstuff

© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.

[stylesispunk]

"You're the loss of my life"

outbreak! Joel Miller x f!reader

part 2 here

summary: you and Joel went from one kiss to getting married to becoming strangers.

w.c: 5k>

Warnings: angst, implications of cheating, mentions miscarriage. Perhaps some grammar mistakes because no proofreading oops!

a/n: I know everything I write is angst but is what it fits in my mind right now. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated 💌

Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

The day you killed yourself, you woke up. The salty tears streamed down to your ears. There was a pity gaze you didn't want to meet, looking down at you, perhaps asking why. 

You didn't want to talk, even less to answer the pitiful comments from people who thought they had a say on all this.

You remember the fall. You remember Joel running to Sophie to save her life instead of yours, instead of both. You and the baby who was inside you. The one who wasn't there anymore because of its tiny form didn't resist the impact of your fall.

What a tragedy.

Sadness overcame you in the aftermath. In a world like this, treating your wounded body wasn't as hard as treating your heart, which became a frozen glass shell.

The days that followed were a blur, each moment blending into the next, a never-ending cycle of grief and numbness. You avoided mirrors, hating the reflection of a person you no longer recognized. The hollow eyes, the lifeless expression—they belonged to a ghost, not to you.

Joel tried to talk to you, his words a constant hum in the background. "I'm sorry," he'd say. "I didn't know what to do." But his apologies were meaningless, lost in the chasm that had formed between you. He perhaps saved Sophie because he loved her more, because in that split second, she was the one who mattered.

Not you anymore.

You spent hours in the nursery, the room you had so carefully prepared. The crib, the tiny clothes, the stuffed animals—all mocking reminders of what could have been. Your hands would linger on the soft blankets, tears falling silently onto the fabric. It was in that room that you felt the closest to the baby you had lost—a place where the field of dreams you had died.

One night, as you sat in the dark, the pain was too much to bear, and you decided you couldn't go on. The world was too cruel, too indifferent to people's suffering. You wrote a letter, your final words, to those who might wonder why. It was brief—just a few sentences explaining the unbearable weight of your grief and the unending ache in your heart. Meeting your family and beloved ones in heaven sounded better than keeping yourself prisoner in a world that would never be a safe place for anyone.

You took the pills, each one a step closer to peace. As you drifted off, you felt a strange sense of calm, a release from the torment that had consumed you. You hoped that in death, you would find the solace that eluded you in life.

But then you woke up again. The salty tears streamed down to your ears. There was a pity gaze you didn't want to meet, looking down at you, perhaps asking why.

Waking up again felt like a cruel joke. You were back in the same world, with the same pain. But something was different. Joel was there, his eyes red and swollen from crying. He took your hand, his touch hesitant and afraid.

"I thought I lost you," he whispered, his voice breaking.

You turned away, unable to meet his gaze. The wound was still too fresh, and the betrayal was still too raw to face them.

Joel's gaze burned in your back, and the smell of death was in the room. You held your breath for a moment. You wanted to smell the flowers and the baby smell of the little head of your baby, which you would never get to meet.

"Why?" he questioned, and for the first time, his voice did soothe your wounds; instead, it caused your blood to boil inside you and irritated you.

"I want Ellie here, not you."

"Baby- “

"Go." Your voice could slice Joel’s skin.

He recoiled as if struck, his face crumpling with pain. He stood there for a moment, looking lost and broken. "Please, don't push me away," he pleaded, but you couldn't hear him through the rage and grief that consumed you.

"Leave," you repeated, your voice cold and final.

Joel's shoulders slumped in defeat. He turned and walked out, the door closing softly behind him. The silence that followed was suffocating, a void that threatened to swallow you whole. You curled into a ball, the tears flowing freely now—a torrent of pain and loss.

“Go to Sophie,” you whispered to the void, allowing yourself to cry.

Time seemed to stand still in that moment; your sobs were the only sound in the quiet room. You didn't know how long you lay there, but eventually, you heard a soft knock on the door.

Ellie's voice was hesitant when she called out your name, filled with a mix of anger and concern. "Can I come in?"

You didn't answer, but she opened the door anyway, slipping inside and closing it behind her. She looked at you, her expression torn between fury and sadness.

"Why did you do it?" she demanded, her voice shaking. "Why did you try to leave me too?"

You looked up at her, seeing the pain in her eyes and mirroring your own. "I... I didn't think I could handle it anymore," you admitted, your voice breaking. "I lost everything, Ellie. I lost you, I lost Joel, and I lost the baby. I didn't know how to go on."

Ellie walked over to you, her steps hesitant. "You didn't lose me. I'm still here," she said, her voice softening. "But you almost did. And I'm so mad at Joel. He should have saved you both. He should have done more."

“Do you think Joel doesn’t love me anymore?” you sobbed.  The pain in your voice broke Ellie’s heart.

She kneeled beside you, taking your hands in hers. "I don’t know what’s on his mind now," she admitted, her voice trembling. "But I do know he loves you. He's just... broken too. We're all broken."

You pulled her into a tight embrace, both of you crying together, sharing the weight of your grief. “I lost my baby because of him.”

Ellie held you tighter, her own tears mingling with yours. "Cry,” she said softly. "Blaming him won't bring the baby back. It won't help us heal. We have to find a way to forgive and move forward."

The two of you stayed like that for a long time, finding strange solace in each other’s arms. The pain was still there, raw and overwhelming.

You were standing in the small kitchen of your home in Jackson, the dilapidated walls a far cry from the security of the life you once knew. But for a moment, you allowed yourself to dream of something better. Your hands trembled slightly as you held the small, worn piece of paper—a positive pregnancy test, a symbol of new life in a world consumed by death.

Joel walked in, weary from a long day of patrol. His eyes lit up when he saw you, but they quickly clouded with concern as he noticed the look on your face.

"What's going on?" he asked, setting down his backpack and walking over to you.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. "Joel, I have something to tell you,” you began, your voice shaking. "I'm pregnant."

For a moment, there was silence. Joel's expression shifted from confusion to shock, and then to something darker—fear and maybe even anger.

"Pregnant?" he repeated, his voice rising slightly. "In this world? How could you be so irresponsible?"

The words hit you like a physical blow, your earlier excitement and hope crumbling into dust. "Irresponsible?" you echoed, your own voice rising defensively. "It takes two people to do this, you know.”

He shook his head, running a hand through his hair. "You know what it’s like out there! Every day is a fight for survival. We can barely keep ourselves alive, and now you want to bring a baby into this?”

“I know this is not the best way, but what do you want me to do?” 

“You know what.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you fought them back, unwilling to show weakness at his suggestion. "I know it's dangerous, Joel. But it's also a chance for us to have a future. To have a reason to keep going."

Joel's face softened for a moment, but then the hard lines returned. "And what if we can't protect it? What if we lose it? Bringing a baby into this world... it's a death sentence."

You turned away, unable to look at him. "I thought you'd be happy," you whispered, the tears finally spilling over. "I thought this would be something good for us."

He reached out, but you stepped back, the distance between you growing. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice softer now, but the damage was done. "I just... I can't see how this can work."

You clutched the pregnancy test to your chest, tainted by doubt and fear. “Are you mad because of the baby, or what would Sophie think of this?" you questioned quietly.

Joel's expression faltered, and he looked away, unable to meet your gaze. The mention of Sophie seemed to strike a chord, bringing a new layer of tension to the room.

"Sophie has nothing to do with this," he muttered, but the words lacked conviction.

"Doesn't she?" You pressed, your voice rising. "She's always in the back of your mind, Joel. Every decision you make, every risk you take, it's always about protecting her."

"She's my partner in patrol,” he shot back, his voice growing louder. "I’m just as protective as I am with everyone here! I can't fail her, or you. But this world... it's no place for a child."

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "I know you're scared, Joel. So am I. But we can't live our lives in fear. This baby is a chance for us to have something real, something good. Don't you see that?"

Joel's shoulders slumped, the weight of your words pressing down on him. He sighed, running a hand through his hair again. "I do see it," he admitted quietly. "But it doesn't change the reality we live in. I just... I don't know if I can take that risk."

The room fell silent, the tension hanging thick in the air. You turned away from him, your heart heavy with a mixture of hope and despair. "I'm going to do everything I can to protect this baby," you said firmly, your voice steady despite the tears streaming down your face. "With or without you."

Joel looked at you, pain and conflict warring in his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something but then closed it, shaking his head. He turned and walked out, leaving you standing alone in the kitchen, your heart breaking as the small symbol of hope in your hand seemed to grow heavier by the second.

The “I do” and vows seemed so foreign in the back of your mind now.

A week had passed since your almost-death. The days were a blur of grief and small steps toward recovery. Ellie remained close; her presence was a constant reminder that there was still something worth fighting for. In your head, you felt guilt and pity, not strong enough to keep believing you were the same woman who arrived here. You were the gosh of a lively fighter who became a lifeless frame.

Maria approached you in the cafeteria, where you were trying to busy yourself. She had always been a pillar of strength in Jackson and a calming presence for you since the day you, Joel, and Ellie arrived.

"Hey," she said softly, her voice gentle. "How are you holding up?"

You shrugged, not trusting yourself to speak without breaking down. Maria sighed, pulling up a chair beside you. "I know it's hard. But you need to take things slow. You can't rush healing."

You nodded, though her words felt distant. The weight of your grief was a constant presence, making everything seem surreal. "I just... I don't know how to keep going. I don’t know how to do this again," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper as Sarah’s lifeless frame came to your mind.

You had lost another child.

Maria reached out, squeezing your hand. "One day at a time," she said. "And remember, it's okay to lean on others. You don't have to do this alone."

You wanted to believe her, but the pain was too fresh and overwhelming. As the days turned into a week, you forced yourself to go through the motions, trying to find some semblance of normalcy. One afternoon, you found yourself in the cafeteria of Jackson. The noise and bustle were a stark contrast to the turmoil inside you.

Maria was there, talking to a few people, and she caught your eye, giving you an encouraging smile. You tried to smile back, but it felt forced. The weight of your loss was a constant shadow, making everything seem heavier.

As you moved through the line, Maria came over, her expression concerned. "Hey, remember what I said. Take it slow. You don't have to do everything at once."

Something inside you snapped. The pressure, the grief, the guilt—it all came crashing down. "Take it slow?" you repeated, your voice rising. "How am I supposed to take it slow when everything is falling apart? How am I supposed to keep going when I not only lost my baby but also my husband?!”

The cafeteria fell silent, all eyes turning towards you. You could feel the weight of their stares, the shock, and the pity. Your breath came in short, ragged gasps as the enormity of your outburst sank in.

Maria reached out, but you recoiled, your emotions spiraling out of control. "I don't need to take it slow!" you shouted, tears streaming down your face. "I need... I need..." You didn't even know what you needed; the pain was too overwhelming to articulate.

Joel was there in an instant, his face etched with worry. "Hey, hey," he said softly, reaching out to you. "It's okay. You're okay."

But you weren't okay. You felt like you were drowning, the weight of your grief pulling you under. You shook your head, backing away from him. "Don't touch me for fuck's sake! I don't want your dirty hands on me!”

Joel’s eyes glazed, but you didn’t care. He had become the best of the man you had married ten years ago.

Joel's eyes glazed, but you didn’t care. He had become the ghost of the man you had married ten years ago.

He froze, the words hitting him like a physical blow. The cafeteria's silence deepened, the tension thickening. You saw the pain in his eyes, a reflection of your own turmoil, but it did nothing to quell the anger and sorrow boiling inside you.

"I can't do this," you said, your voice breaking as you took a step back, your chest heaving with sobs. "I can't keep pretending that everything is going to be okay. Because it's not! Nothing is okay!"

Ellie pushed through the crowd, her face pale but determined. "Mom," she said, her voice steady despite the fear in her eyes. "We're here. We're all here. We'll get through this."

Joel looked helplessly at Ellie, then back at you. "Please," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Just let us help."

You looked at him, the man who had once been your rock, now just a shadow of the person you had relied on. The anger still simmered beneath the surface, but Ellie’s presence brought a flicker of something else—a reminder of why you needed to keep fighting.

Ellie wrapped her arms around you, holding you tightly as you sobbed into her shoulder. The room remained silent; the weight of your grief was palpable. But in that moment, you felt a glimmer of hope—a reminder that you weren’t alone and that you had people who loved you and who were willing to help you carry the burden.

Joel stepped closer, his hand hovering uncertainly at your back, not daring to touch you without permission. "I’m so sorry," he murmured, his voice choked with emotion. "For everything. I’m so, so sorry."

You took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to steady yourself. "You killed him," you snapped, your voice barely more than a whisper. "I can’t forgive you.”

Joel's face crumpled, the weight of your words hitting him like a physical blow. He took a step back, his hand dropping to his side. The silence in the room grew heavier, and the tension was palpable.

"I know," he said, his voice barely audible. "I know I can never undo what I've done. I live with that guilt every day."

Your anger burned hot and fierce, like a wildfire consuming everything in its path. "You killed him," you repeated, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. "And you expect me to just forgive you? To move on like nothing happened?"

Joel shook his head, his eyes filled with sorrow. "No," he said softly. "I don't expect you to forgive me. I don't even know if I can forgive myself. But I want to try. I want to make things right as much as I can."

You looked at him, the man who had once been your partner, your confidant, now a stranger in the wreckage of your shattered life. The anger still burned hot within you, but beneath it, there was a flicker of something else—pain, sorrow, and a desperate longing for the life you had lost.

"I don't know if I can do this," you admitted, your voice barely more than a whisper. "I don't know if I have the strength to forgive you."

Ellie's arms remained wrapped around you, a comforting presence amidst the turmoil. She gently guided you away from the cafeteria, her touch reassuring as you stumbled through the hallways of Jackson. The weight of your grief felt heavier with each step, but Ellie's presence gave you a glimmer of strength.

As you reached the door, Ellie helped you inside, guiding you to the small couch in the living area. She sat beside you, her eyes filled with concern.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly, her voice filled with worry.

You shook your head, the tears still streaming down your face. "I don't know," you admitted, your voice hoarse. "I just... I don't know how to deal with all of this."

Ellie reached out, taking your hand in hers. "We'll figure it out together," she said, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands. "I promise."

You squeezed her hand tightly, grateful for her unwavering support. "Thank you, Ellie," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion.

She leaned in, wrapping you in a tight hug. "I love you, Mom," she said softly. "And I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

Tears pricked at your eyes as you hugged her back, her words echoing in your mind. "I love you too, Ellie," you whispered, your voice breaking with emotion.

As you and Ellie held each other close, the weight of her love and support was a balm to your wounded soul. But amidst the embrace, a knock on the door interrupted the moment, causing both of you to startle.

Ellie pulled back slightly, her eyes searching yours with concern. "Should I... Should I get that?" she asked, her voice hesitant.

You shook your head, wiping away your tears as you tried to compose yourself. "No, it's okay," you said, your voice still shaky. "I'll go."

Ellie nodded, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze before standing up from the couch. "I'll be in my room if you need me," she said softly, giving you a lingering look before leaving the living area.

As Ellie disappeared down the hallway, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come. With trembling hands, you made your way to the door and opened it, revealing Joel standing on the other side.

His expression was a mix of worry and remorse as he looked at you, his eyes filled with a silent plea for forgiveness. "Can we talk?" he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You hesitated, the memories of your outburst in the cafeteria still fresh in your mind. But despite the anger and pain, there was a part of you that longed for closure, for a chance to understand.

"Okay," you said finally, stepping aside to let him in.

Joel entered the house, his footsteps hesitant as he crossed the threshold. The living room felt suffocatingly small as you both stood there, the weight of your shared grief hanging heavy in the air.

"I... I don't even know where to start," Joel said, his voice strained with emotion.

You took a deep breath, trying to find the words to express the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. "I just... I need to understand," you said, your voice barely more than a whisper. "I need to know why you did what you did."

The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the abandoned streets of the city. You and Joel had been scavenging for supplies, your footsteps echoing in the eerie silence that seemed to permeate every corner of the world.

You had felt uneasy all day, a knot of jealousy and insecurity twisting in your stomach at the sight of Sophie, her laughter ringing in your ears like a taunt.

You had implored Joel to come. You just wanted to feel as worthy and important to him as you used to, even in your state. But despite your misgivings, you had pushed them aside, focusing on the task at hand, determined to prove yourself capable and worthy of Joel's love and attention.

And then it happened.

If Joel had been more careful, he wouldn’t have allowed you to come. But he didn’t want to make you feel worthless.

A horde of infected had descended upon you, their snarls and growls a chilling symphony of death and despair. You had frozen; your mind was unable to comprehend the danger until it was too late.

But Joel had acted, his movements swift and sure as he pulled you away from the oncoming onslaught, his grip firm and unyielding.

And then he had seen her.

Sophie was trapped beneath the rubble, her screams echoing in the chaos as the infected closed in, their hunger insatiable.

And in that moment, something inside Joel shifted.

He had hesitated, torn between saving you and saving her, his eyes flickering with indecision, before he made his choice.

He had chosen Sophie.

He jumped off the horse, leaving you alone. You had watched in horror as he raced towards her, leaving you behind, your heart shattering into a million jagged pieces as the truth of his betrayal washed over you like a tidal wave.

You had screamed, your voice lost in the cacophony of the chaos, your tears mingling with the blood and dust that coated your skin.

And then the world went dark.

You fell from the horse, hitting the cobblestones hard. The pain was sharp and intense, searing through your body like a white-hot flame. You could hear the distant sound of screams and growls, the world around you spinning in a haze of confusion and agony.

Through the haze, you could dimly make out Joel's voice, calling out your name in desperation. But his words felt distant, a mere echo in the darkness that threatened to consume you.

And then, as suddenly as it had begun, the chaos subsided, leaving behind a heavy silence that pressed down on you like a weight. You tried to move, to call out, but your body felt numb and unresponsive. Your world went black.

"I need to know why, Joel," you repeated, your voice trembling with emotion. "Why did you choose her over us? Why did you leave me behind?"

Tears welled up in your eyes as you waited for his answer, the weight of his betrayal still fresh in your mind, a wound that refused to heal.

Joel's gaze dropped to the floor, his shoulders slumping with the weight of his guilt. "I... I don't know," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I panicked. I made a mistake."

Anger surged within you at his words, a fiery rage that threatened to consume you. "A mistake?" you repeated, your voice rising with indignation. "You left me to die, Joel. You left our child to die. How could you call that a mistake?"

Joel flinched at your words, the pain in his eyes mirroring your own. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I'm so, so sorry. You were my wife; I should.”

"Were you my wife?” You sobbed, “Since when is that in the past, Joel?”

Joel's words hung in the air like a heavy weight, his admission of guilt and regret piercing through the veil of anger and pain that enveloped you. But amidst the turmoil, there was a flicker of something else—a longing for understanding, for closure, for a chance to heal.

"You are my wife," Joel repeated clearly, his voice trembling with emotion. "I should have protected you. I should have been there for you. But I failed. I failed both of you."

His words stirred something deep within you—a wellspring of grief and longing that threatened to overwhelm you. "And now?" you whispered, your voice barely more than a hoarse whisper. "What am I to you, Joel?"

Joel looked at you, his eyes filled with sorrow. Not uttering a word.

“Do you have feelings for Sophie?” You asked, fear creeping to your bones, not wanting to hear the answer.

Joel's silence spoke volumes; his hesitation was a weighty presence in the air between you. You held your breath, afraid of what his answer might be and of the truth that lay hidden in the depths of his gaze.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Joel spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "I... I don't know," he admitted, his words heavy with uncertainty. "

“You love her,” you stated. “That’s why you chose her.”

Joel's silence in response to your accusation only confirmed your worst fears, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth and a heavy ache in your chest. The truth hung in the air, stark and undeniable, like a shadow cast by the setting sun.

Tears stung your eyes as you struggled to process the betrayal, the pain of Joel's admission cutting through you like a knife. The realization that he might love Sophie and might have chosen her over you and your unborn child was a blow that threatened to shatter you completely.

"I can't do this," you whispered, your voice barely more than a broken plea. "I can't stay here, knowing... knowing that I'll never be enough for you. Living in a world like this is already hell, but you made it even worse. You made me feel disgusted by myself, worthless, and ashamed," you shouted. "You're a fucking coward."

Joel flinched at your words, the truth of your accusations cutting through him like a knife. For a moment, it seemed as though he might speak, might try to defend himself, but he remained silent, his gaze fixed on the floor.

"Hate me; I'll wait. Until you forgive," he finally said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face as you struggled to find the words to express the depth of your pain. "Forgive you?" you chuckled bitterly. "I won't."

There are two types of grievances. The one who met the spirits in death and the one who met with the ghosts of someone who should have died in front of you. You still couldn't comprehend which one was worse. Both were painful, and both watered your eyes. But having the ghost of someone who brought you warm, freezing your aura while slipping from your grasp, leaving you crying to yourself till your head tired up and there wasn't anything left that fell into the voiceless world of sleeping, where in your dreams, you were still the same woman in the white dress, marrying the love of your life.

"I needed my husband! I need him now! And the worst thing is, I still need you, but you're just a fucking phantom."

"I'm still here," he exclaimed.

"No, you're not.".

"It wasn't even born!" Joel said.

The silence met souls leaving the lovers's bodies.

You were left speechless, tears ricocheting. Your heart was clenched in pain, and your throat felt like it was being torn apart by a monster.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"Save it," you spat. You were exhausted, and your heart hurt so much that you couldn't even feel it beating anymore. "Sorry if grieving my baby was such a burden to you."

As you turned back to face Joel, the weight of your words hung heavy in the air, a painful reminder of the gaping chasm of loss that lay between you.

"Let me remind you of something, Joel," you said, your voice trembling with emotion. "Losing Sarah was the worst thing that happened to us, and just imagine how it is for me to know I carried her and this baby just to lose them both."

Joel's expression softened, a flicker of remorse crossing his features as he looked at you, his eyes filled with regret. "I know," he said softly, his voice heavy with sorrow.

"I'll move out," Joel said suddenly, his voice tinged with resignation. "So you can bring your new lover here and make all the babies you want."

His words cut through you like a knife, a painful reminder of the irreparable rift that had formed between you. "You know what really broke me?" you sobbed, the words tumbling out in a rush of emotion. "You... you're the biggest loss of my life, but as much as I love you, I despise you the same. You're the loss of my life I will be yours. There's no way back from this, Joel."

As the weight of your words hung heavy in the air, you reached for the wedding band adorning your finger, a symbol of a love that had once been unbreakable but now lay shattered at your feet.

With trembling hands, you removed the ring, feeling its weight in your palm as you stared at it, the memories of happier times flashing before your eyes like a cruel mockery of the present.

Without a second thought, you flung the ring towards Joel, watching as it spun through the air before landing at his feet with a soft thud.

"There," you said, your voice choked with emotion. "Take it. Take everything that remains of us."

Joel looked down at the ring, his expression unreadable as he reached out to pick it up and his fingers trembling as he held it in his palm.

"I don't want this," he whispered, his voice barely more than a hoarse whisper.

But you shook your head, tears streaming down your face as you stared at him, the pain of his betrayal a raw wound that refused to heal. "I don't want it either," you said, your voice barely more than a broken whisper. "But it's all we have left."

And with that, you turned away, unable to bear the weight of his presence any longer. The wounds he had inflicted upon you ran deep, a festering wound that refused to heal.

[tvgirlie24]

Not Enough pt.2

After that gruesome training session Alexia desperately tries to fix things between the two of you, you’re having none of it.

Angst (some fluff?)

part 1

The first thing that you felt upon regaining consciousness was an unbearable headache. You didn't think you've ever experienced anything like this. You were uncomfortable, in pain and overall just really confused. The last thing you could remember was someone telling you to keep your eyes open everything else was pretty much a haze. You've made the mistake of trying to open your eyes now, but you were immediately blinded by the intense light of the room and quickly closed them again. The rest of your senses were slowly coming back as well, as you could hear someone quietly talking close to you. There were more voices as well, but you couldn't quite tell who it was. You tried moving your arm as you could feel a needle poking your skin but the second you moved someone held your arm down.

"You're awake! Oh, thank god, you had us scared for a second." Ingrid? Again? Not that you expected anyone else really but even Ingrid being here with you was surprising enough. Despite knowing that she stood up for you yesterday it still didn't make sense why all of a sudden she was so interested in providing you support. Maybe she felt sorry for you?

"Uhh, what the fuck?" Your voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. 

"You passed out, like an hour ago, we were starting to consider taking you to the hospital if you didn't wake up. Do you not remember?"

"I just remember feeling really dizzy and that’s pretty much it."

"You should've said something if you didn't feel well you know, that was pretty irresponsible, you could've hurt yourself." Whilst you knew Ingrid’s scolding came from a place of worry you really didn’t appreciate her words right now. As if it was your fault. Partially yes, but no one stepped in when Alexia was taking it too far. No one stood up for you, and you were at fault? 

“As if me saying I didn’t feel good would’ve done anything.” You murmured and Ingrid gave you a sympathetic look. 

You slowly sat up, with the help of Ingrid and looked around. A physio was next to you, checking your vitals and on the other side of the room was the last person you wanted to see right now. Alexia, looking all guilty and it seemed as though she wanted to say something but kept changing her mind at the last minute. 

You got tired of waiting after she opened and closed her mouth for the fourth time. “What do you want?” You snapped.

“I, uh, I just-, I’m sorry, really, I didn’t mean to take it so far. I didn’t know you felt sick, If I did I-“ 

“You would have done the exact same thing, we both know that.” You interrupted, not really interested in hearing any of her excuses.

“What? No! No, really-“

“Are you sure? You’re saying that if I came up to you and said I’m not feeling well, you wouldn’t have told me that I’m just slacking off?” You asked, though you already knew what the answer would be. 

Nothing, no response. Just as you thought.

“Thought so. I really don’t understand what your problem is. I would understand if you just had some doubts about me, everyone does, I’m used to it. But you have absolutely no reason to hate me and I’m really fucking tired of it. I do everything that I can and yet you always have something to complain about. I’ve had enough of this, I don’t want to do this anymore. I fucking heard you yesterday. I know you think I don’t belong here, I know you think I’m not good enough, but fuck you didn’t even give me an actual chance and I’m sick of it. I don’t fucking deserve this.” You didn’t even realize that tears were streaming down your face or that with each sentence you voice kept getting louder and louder until you were practically screaming in her face but you didn’t care. It felt nice to let it out, all of the frustration you have felt for the past couple of weeks. She kept taking her frustration out on you, now it was you turn. 

She was about to say something but you had no interest in hearing what she was about to say. Whatever she was about to tell you would never warrant her behavior towards you. 

“No, I’m not doing this right now, I’m leaving.“ You stood up abruptly and felt yourself get dizzy again, Alexia reached out her arms to steady you but you quickly steadied yourself and walked past her to the physio. 

“Get it out.” You said while giving him your arm, where an IV was administered, but the physio didn’t move and just looked hesitantly at you.

“Get it out or I’m going to rip it out of my arm myself, I don’t care, your way or my way, you choose.” You barked out. You knew you were being unfair, and unnecessarily mean, the man didn’t do anything to you. But you were so angry with the whole world right now that you couldn’t care less about who was on the receiving end of your outburst. You needed to get it out and most importantly you needed to leave, if being harsh meant you could get out of there sooner then you had no problem being a bitch. For once you just didn’t care. 

The man grabbed your arm and carefully pulled out the IV from your vein, while staring at you very disapprovingly but you didn’t give him a chance to say something, quickly turning around and gathering your things.

“You should have someone drive you, it’s not safe for you to drive yet.” Spoke out the man, despite knowing you were probably not going to listen to him. 

“I’ll be fine.” You dismissed. 

“I can dri-“ Tried saying Alexia but you didn’t even let her finish the sentence, too worked up to let her finish.

“No, there’s no way in hell I’m getting into a car with you Alexia. I would rather crash my car into a building.” 

“Then I’ll drive you.” Offered Ingrid but before you could refuse, she started talking again. 

“Really, please, let me give you a ride, I’ll have María pick me up. I really don’t think it’s a good idea for you to drive.” She pleaded and you were too tired to argue with her. “Okay, fine, whatever.” And with that you walked out of the room, with Ingrid closely behind you. Not sparing Alexia a single look.

The ride home didn’t take too long, despite having to give Ingrid instruction, given that you lived pretty close anyway. A fact, which you were grateful for because you physically couldn’t wait for the moment you lied down on your bed. This also meant that it didn’t take Mapi too long to pick up Ingrid, not that you weren’t enjoying her company, but right now you were much too eager to finally get some rest, so when you saw her pull up in your driveway you quickly hugged Ingrid goodbye and shut your front door, leaving both women standing outside confused.

You didn’t do anything else for the rest of the day, still not feeling too well, but also so mentally drained that all you could do was just bury yourself under blankets and order you favorite take out after taking a much needed shower, finally somewhat content after the horrendous day you just had. And as you were slowly falling asleep you couldn’t help but wonder if the rest of your stay in Barcelona would be like this. Hopeless and miserable, filled with unpleasant trainings and you questioning why you even came here in the first place. 

__________________________________________

When you woke up the following day you could feel dread completely consuming your whole body. You were terrified of going to training today, but there was no way you could skip training when you were scheduled to be starting in the match tomorrow. Physically you felt okay, you were rested and the dizziness and headache from yesterday were gone. But mentally you were everything but okay. You didn't know what to expect but each second you were becoming more of a nervous wreck. You didn’t know what today would be like and that was what freaked you out the most.

Walking in wasn't any better, everyone was nice but you haven't had to chance to see the one person you dreaded seeing the most, but it appears as though luck was on your side today because you ended up not seeing Alexia all the way to the locker room. Strangely enough the only two people that were there were Ingrid and Mapi. You greeted them quietly and started changing, not saying anything else but as you sat down on the bench to tie your shoelaces you noticed just how hard your hands were shaking. You let out a frustrated huff when even on your third try you still couldn't manage to tie your laces. It was irrational, the way tears started to cloud your vision but you were overwhelmed with every negative emotion that there is and all of a sudden even a simple thing like inability to tie your shoes has immediately put you on the edge. 

Just as you were about to try again someone appeared in front of you, but you refused to raise your head and let whoever it was see just how much of a mess you were. 

"Need a hand?" Ingrid asked gently. At this point you should've expected it would be her. So far, she's been the only one to offer you any support. But through your life you've only ever been met with a cold shoulder, so anyone being there for you just wasn't something you were used to. You don't think this is something you will ever get used to. 

"No thanks, I got it." You actually didn't, but it was easier to struggle alone, it's all you've ever known. No one ever taught you how to accept help, constantly reminding you to not rely on anyone.

"Let me help, please." She asked again. And as much as you wanted to refuse, you didn't have it in you. So, you just pulled away and let her tie your shoes, like a little kid but you were way past the point of caring. You still kept your head down, not wanting her to see you crying. 

"There you go, hey, hey, what's going on?" 

"No, no it's nothing don't worry, i'm fine." You said frantically trying to dry your tears, though unsuccessfully.

"Look, you don't have to tell me, but you don't need to lie to me, I can see you're not fine." With how gentle she was being it was basically impossible for you not to tell her. You couldn't remember the last time someone spoke to you like this, maybe, when you were a kid and your mom was comforting you after you fell from your bike, but even that memory didn’t  feel as warm as this. So, you decided to open up to her, just a little, even if everything in you told you not to. 

"I'm just freaking out a little. These past few training sessions have been hell and I just, I guess I'm just nervous. I really don't want to mess up again." You admitted, already regretting saying anything at all but Ingrid just gave you a soft smile, lightly squeezing your leg, offering you a bit of comfort.

"Hey, no don't say that, you haven't messed up anything."

"That's not what Alexia thinks." You murmured. "It doesn't matter what she thinks." She argued.

"But it does, she's the captain." You argued weakly, because it did, it would always matter what she thought. And if she thought you were not worth being here, then everything was doomed.

"Look, she will come around I promise. And especially after yesterday I don't think she's going to be so harsh anymore." She kept trying to convince you and you weren't sure if it was because she was actually speaking the truth or because she was just trying to calm you down. "I'm having a really hard time believing you, to be honest."

"I get it but I promise, it's going to be okay, really."

"Thank you. Again. You've really been saving my ass these past few days." Both of you let out a small laugh at that. 

"You don't have anything to thank me for, really. I'm just being a decent human being." 

"Trust me, that's more than I usually get. So, I appreciate it, and you." She gave you a sad smile at that. You didn't mean to sound so depressing, but that's how it was. You really didn't feel like sugarcoating the truth just for the sake of not sounding like a complete loser. 

You didn't say anything afterwards and neither did Ingrid, she just offered you a hand and helped you stand up. She kept her hold on your hand and slowly pulled you in for a hug. You froze momentarily, not really expecting it, but quickly relaxed and hugged her back. 

"I know you've had it tough and I'm really sorry about it, but I'm here for you, for anything you need. I know what it feels like when you think you're all alone, but I promise you're not, at least not anymore." Tears clouded your vision again but for an entirely different reason now. God you really were a wreck today. You didn't trust yourself to speak so you just squeezed her harder, hoping that she understands your gratitude. 

__________________________________________

You wouldn't say you were necessarily calm after your conversation with Ingrid, but at least you were not on the verge of a complete breakdown anymore, so that's a win. That changed the second you saw Alexia approach you. From experience you knew not to expect anything good from her, so her next words left you completely speechless. 

"Are you feeling okay?" She asked simply, her face not giving you any indication of what she was thinking. Out of all the things she could've said to you, you really didn't expect her to care about how you were feeling. So, you just stared at her, not knowing what to say. She raised her eyebrows though, silently telling you that she was expecting an answer.

"Uhm, I-, yeah, I'm fine." You stuttered, internally cursing yourself for sounding like a complete idiot. She didn't didn't say anything else, just giving you a faint nod that was barely noticeable before turning around and leaving.

The beginning of the training was all formalities, and you were pretty much spaced out until you all started running laps, not really paying attention to anything else, but just as you were about go run the extra laps that Alexia always orders you to, you could hear her shouting. 

"What are you doing?" She asked sternly and you braced yourself for another scolding. You didn't know what you've done wrong, again, but you were definitely not about to argue with her.

"Uhh, I'm about to run the extra lap? Like always?" You said, rather hesitantly, not really knowing what to expect next. 

"No, it's okay, you don't have to, go stretch." She replied and you gave her a simple nod, absolutely flabbergasted.

Since you came here, she always ordered you to run extra laps, to repeat the drills, her telling you not to felt way too weird. For a second you wondered if it was a joke, or if she just went crazy, because this was not the Alexia you knew. But she kept on surprising you today, because each time you were about to do something she kept on stopping you, reminding you to take it easy and repeatedly asking you if you felt okay. 

You were confused at first, not understanding what her point was at all. But that confusion quickly started turning into anger, why did she decide to be nice to you now? She could've been nice to you this whole time and she would've saved both of you a lot of trouble. Why did it take you passing out for her to come to her senses and actually start treating you like a human? So, the next time you heard her tell you to slow down you really had to bite your tongue because you got dangerously close to telling her to fuck off. You were positively furious, your blood was boiling and you kept having to remind yourself to stay calm. 

Breaking point came when she handed you a bottle of water that you could’ve easily gotten yourself, a simple innocent gesture. Under any other circumstances you would’ve just said thank you, but in this very moment that was the last thing you wanted to say. You hated it, how all this time you wanted her to treat you like a human and that’s what she was doing, yet it was only driving you crazy, and against your better judgement you ended up snapping at her.

“Okay I really don’t understand what you’re trying to achieve today, but it is driving me insane. You mind explaining to me what the fuck you’re doing?” You snapped with a frown on your face and you could see the colour draining from her face as she looked as you as though she has seen a ghost.

“I-, uhm, I just wanted to make sure you were okay, you know, after yesterday and you know…” she trailed off, awfully shy for someone who was yelling in your face less than 24 hours ago. 

“Well, I’m fantastic of course! How do you think I’m doing? I don’t want to be here, I don’t want to be around you and I certainly don’t want you making sure I’m fine! It’s too late for it now, I don’t care if you feel guilty it’s your own fault Alexia! You don’t get to treat me like a piece of shit and then act all nice hoping that will make up for it.”

Maybe if you weren’t so angry you would’ve felt a bit sorry for her because she truly looked like a kicked puppy after that little outburst. But she didn’t say anything and with a scoff you turned around and left. You didn’t even bother changing, just slumping your bag over your shoulder and escaping to your car as fast as you could. You were lucky you left a bit early and the parking lot was still empty, otherwise everyone would’ve seen and heard the yell you let out once you got into the car. 

That woman really is going to be the death of you. 

__________________________________________

So, the match really didn’t end up that well for you. You ended up winning 3-1 so it wasn’t that much of a disaster for the team, but your performance today was less than good. You were all over the place, but never where you were needed, completely missing passes and none of your shots came even close to a goal. It was painful to watch and you really weren’t surprised when you came off in the 63rd minute. You couldn’t stick around and keep watching it, too angry with yourself so you immediately went inside to take a shower, hoping that a nice cold shower might calm down not just your body but also your mind. 

Once you got out of the shower you could tell that the game was over since some of the players were already inside while some stayed out on the pitch. You hoped to have a bit more time to pull yourself together before everyone would come pouring in. The shower did absolutely nothing to help you and once you started crying there was no way you would be able to stop. Maybe Alexia was right, maybe everything really was just handed over to you and maybe you really weren’t that good. 

You tried to avoid everyone’s stares while you took your bag and excused yourself, leaving the locker room and hoping to find some quiet place to cry it all out. You tried several doors, most of them locked but you managed to stumble open a door that was unlocked and once you opened it you could see it was just a small conference room, abandoned a long time ago given how empty it was. So, you threw your bag and the floor and made a beeline for the corner, slumping down and burying your head in your knees, trying to make yourself as small as possible. The first sob you let out was rough, so rough it actually hurt, but it felt way so good to finally let it out. You cried so hard that you could feel your whole body shake, and each second it was becoming harder and harder to breath.

You completely forgot to keep a track of time, knowing that you were due to leave soon, but in that moment that was the least of your worries. All of a sudden, you could hear someone open the door but you refused to raise your head, much too comfortable in your little bubble, so you couldn’t tell who it was.

Please be Ingrid, please let it be Ingrid.

“Hey..” 

Oh God, no.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Alexia tried again after she got no response from you. 

“Go away.” You pleaded but instead of turning around she just got closer and on instinct you tried to push yourself closer to the wall to create more space between you. “No please, please go away, please I don’t want you here.” 

She didn’t go away, instead she slowly lowered herself onto the ground until she was sitting in front of you, not too far but not too close, which you appreciated. If she were to disturb your personal space in your current state you would probably just freak out even more. 

“Please, tell me what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” She asked softly, you’ve never heard her speak like that, let alone to you, but you didn’t let that break you. “No, please, just let me be.” You cried, even harder, wanting her to get away from you as soon as possible.

“I will, once you tell me what’s wrong.” She didn’t get a response from you, all that could be heard in the quiet room was your ragged breathing.

“Is this about the game? Is that why you’re so worked up?” She kept her voice gentle, and it made it hard to keep ignoring her, but you weren’t quite ready to talk to her yet. So, all that she got in response was just a whine, one that resembled an agreement. 

“Look I get it, no one likes bad days, but they’re a part of what we do, we can’t have a perfect performance all the time, as much as we want to. It is not the end of the world, I promise.” She tried to comfort you, not realizing she was doing the exact opposite.

“It is when everyone around you thinks that you don’t deserve to be a part of the team and you constantly have something to prove, then it pretty much is the end of the world.” Your voice was rough and you looked like a mess but you still raised your head as you spoke, wanting her to understand that the biggest reason why you were crying was her own doing. You didn’t necessarily feel secure at Barça before, but it definitely wasn’t as bad as it is now, and it was mostly Alexia’s fault. 

She frowned, thinking about what to say next. 

“Look, I’m sorry, I really am. I was an arrogant asshole and I took it too far, but none of what I said is true. I did think it was but I don’t anymore and I don’t want you thinking it’s true. It is not, you deserve to be here, okay?” 

“But that’s not what you thought 3 days ago.” You murmured, Alexia barely hearing you.

“No, it’s not. But a person that gets everything handed to them doesn’t train until they actually pass out, you know.” Again, no response from you, but she refused to give up. At least now your sobbing subsided to just small hiccups.

“I know I messed up, and I will forever feel sorry about it, but I don’t want you to doubt whether you deserve to be here or not. You do, you work hard and I didn’t see it then, but I see it now, okay?” Alexia said firmly, and it was hard not to believe her, with how gently but convincingly she was speaking. “Okay.” 

She gave you a soft nod and slowly stood up, offering you a hand and even though you felt like you shouldn’t, you accepted her help. She carefully helped you stand up, holding you up when you wobbled a little from your legs falling asleep. 

“Come on, they’re all probably waiting for us.” She gave your hand a light squeeze and let go and you followed her out of the room.

All of a sudden you didn’t feel like the world was ending, everything that was going on now seemed almost manageable and you walked out of that room with a small, barely noticeable smile on your face.

__________________________________________

Yaaay I finally finished the second part🥳 Sorry for the delay I wanted to get this out over 2 weeks ago, but I hope you liked it anyway :)

@marvelwomen-simp

[nouvxllev]

Request!!

Jenna Ortega x Reader

Summary: Jenna and R are like on ldr cuz of her work, after mooonthhss, J surprises R by going back home early to her. J gets so worried cuz R isn't in the house, and she can't contact her. R gets home wasted, J confronts her, R breaks down, rambling about how she just misses Jenna, not knowing it is actually Jenna who she was speaking to... she mistakes her to be Emma..😭🙏🏻

unbearable uncertainty

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Fem!Reader

Summary: request! ^^

Words: 3.3k

Warnings: slight angst? maybe? bittersweet??

a/n: wrote tara carpenter smut then dipped. oh my god, i truly apologize for going on an unknowingly and unbearable hiatus from writing. but on the bright side, i met someone whos truly so special and i cherish the most on here :] thank you for the request and im sorry if ive been holding it back for months!

(ps. ive forgotten how to write entirely, please be patient with me)

Long goodbyes were never easy.

How could Jenna ever forget the last piece of comfort she felt in your arms as you held her for the final time before she boarded the plane? The warmth and security she found when you whispered "I love you" was something she couldn't find elsewhere.

You hugged her so tightly, Jenna felt as if you were trying to fold her into your very being.

You always did that, always have.

But you held her a little longer. Closer, tighter. As if it'll be the last time Jenna falls in love with you. It felt too surreal when she heard your voice started breaking in tears like there was a cloud over your heart Jenna used to bring life in.

She tried to memorize every detail of your face, every line and shadow, every crease and every feature like you were a past lover she's been searching for, she wanted to hold onto each imperfection and perfection as if capturing this moment in her heart could somehow lessen the pain of parting.

When you reached out, gently brushing a stray tear from her cheek, and she leaned into your touch, savoring the warmth that would soon be gone. It was a gesture so tender, so full of love, that it made her heart ache even more.

Would she have done something differently? Perhaps tell you she got it all wrong, tell the producers and chosen to live in peace with you and frolic in some field of flowers like a coming of age movie.

No, she could only swallow the lump in her throat and urge her heart to stop grieving for something that wasn't even dead but merely distant.

Vermont proved to be a cold comfort, like winter for a thousand nights without somebody to hold on, stark contrast to the warmth she'd known for all these months.

The first night was the hardest—cruel, even. As she unpacked her bags in the apartment paid for b the producers, it was a far cry from the home you had shared. Despite its charm for space, it felt emptier than it should've been. A shell.

Jenna remembers lying awake that night, unable to find solace even in the darkness. Each thought weighed heavier than the last, fearing you would grow to resent the fame she would have declined in a heartbeat if given the choice, that loving her had become more of a chore than a joy.

The frequent overseas flights and constant altering of time zones only added to the strain, affecting even how her heart would beat. Conversations became shorter while days grew longer, and only letters and distant updates from you brought reassurance. She missed the moments of quiet intimacy, the laughter shared, and the smile she could reach up and kiss, the comfort of knowing she was always there for you.

It was a constant routine of staring at the ceiling, desperate to imagine your arounds around her and your warm breath against the neck. The loneliness was a crushing weight, far more realistic than a mere idea it was. Unbearable.

She found herself wanting for the familiar warmth and solace that only your presence could provide her. She would watch herself listening for your voice, remembering how you would tell her if she's been overworking, half-expecting to hear your laughter or even a slight tone or maybe even the sound of your footsteps.

She always found small ways to feel connected to you.

The letters you sent were her lifeline. She would read them over and over as if it were new ink, tracing the words with her fingers that carried your thoughts and reassurances, imagining your voice speaking them. Each letter was a piece of you, a reminder that you were thinking of her, missing her just as much.

The voice calls were both a blessing and a curse.

Hearing your voice brought her comfort, but it also made the distance between you feel even more unbearable. She would stay up late into the night, talking to you, laughing with you, sharing her day and listening to yours. But when the call ended, silence would descend, and the emptiness would return with a vengeance. She would lie in bed, clutching the pillow, trying to replay the sound of your voice.

So it was a huge, pain-in-the-ass problem for her, the amount of calls and thousands of sleepless nights with her arms wrapped around a pillow instead of the love of her life was a step away from insanity. It seemed dramatic, but can you blame a girl!? Love always had a way of making seem things insignificant in comparison.

Another grueling month without the love of your life? She couldn't and wouldn't even bear it, you would have to finally cut the two parts of her brain in half and throw away the other one to endure that kind of torture.

So what started as a joke with her finger hovering over the "book flight" button while on the phone with you turned out to be, surprise surprise, not even close to a silly little joke.

She clicked it impulsively, without a second thought or even a first one.

Her heart raced faster than ever with the thought of seeing you again. Feeling your arms around her, hearing you laugh, smile, and talk was all the motivation she needed. It was like a recurring dream you’d betray another day for to live in.

And here she is now, at your place, luggage in hand in the dead of night, looking like she fled the country, with that familiar airport scent still clinging to her clothes and hair. She smelled like whatever hit-terminal coffee it was that day and recycled air.

Jenna's been muttering to herself all evening, "Pick up, pick up, pick up, oh my God, who leaves their house unlocked!?"

Her phone, balanced on her shoulder, was one slip away from hitting the ground, and she was one missed call away from losing it. She imagine the look on your face when you saw her standing there, unannounced yet so desperately wanted, not like wanting to send out a search party for you!

It was voicemail after voicemail, a ring before a cruel tone that mocked her for seconds, the unknowing certainty that something had happened to you.

You’ve been M.I.A ever since she arrived, and the last text she received from you was a breezy, "I’m going out tonight with co-workers" followed by a thousand kisses. The gesture was sweet, but it’s not helping now that it’s 12 fucking a.m. and you’re nowhere to be found.

She paced back and forth in your living room, the anxiety gnawing at her insides and the sharp pain from her palm to her heart had never been so severe.

Every creak of the floorboards made her thoughts race, hoping it was you finally coming home. The silence of the house was deafening, broken only by her thoughts replaying your voice. She glanced at the clock on the wall that displayed digits she seriously did not want to see.

She knew she wouldn't be able to sleep until she saw you with her own eyes, until she could touch you and confirm that you were truly safe.

Her hands immediately went back to her phone, wondering if your co-workers would even answer a distress actress concerned about her girlfriend if there was a high and 100% chance they were wasted with you. Obviously, each call went straight to voicemail.

Why is being sent on delivered the most humiliating ever!?

"Fuck," Jenna cursed under her breath, her head lowered in defeat as she stared at the countless of messages she sent to your friends, co-workers, shit even your family!

The only thought going through her head is "thank you for birthing Emma Myers."

emma

just said goodbye shes round the corner

sent one attachment

going back to her place

Even light couldn't travel as fast compared to how quickly Jenna reacted when that attachment processed in her brain. It was a photo of you (thank fuck), looking a bit tipsy, sure, maybe knocked in the head, but you were unharmed, waving goodbye to Emma.

The wave of relief that washed over Jenna felt like an overall baptism—a splash of water to commemorate coming back to a harsher reality than she didn't expect, but reality nonetheless.

She almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity, but she shoved the thought aside. Her focus was on you, and getting to you as fast as possible.

If you weren't going to come back home sooner or later, she'd come to you. Geared up and mentally preparing everything to combat the cold weather, plants of how she would take care of you, and a surprise. Aka, her.

Is what she would've followed through if she didn’t hear the unmistakable sound of a key turning in the lock.

The sound was so abrupt. Too sudden and swift it nearly made her jump out of her skin unlike any scare people tried on her.

Her heart pounded as she turned towards the door, hoping, begging, and nearly willing the universe to grant her at least one moment of sanity. She watched the door creak open, and there you were—alive. You stumbled in, eyes bleary but safe, and Jenna felt the tension drain from her body as if it had never been there.

"Y/n—!" Jenna's sudden movement was a blur, barely having time to embrace yourself before she collided with you, the force of her embrace nearly knocking out the ragged breath you had left.

You could've noticed the slight tremble in her frame, heart pounding against your chest, and a hand clinging onto your shirt that pulled you closer if you weren't drunk.

“Daaamn, girl, you walk faast! I swear we dropped you at your street?? Why are you in—shit—in my house??” Your voice slurred and you stumbled as if the very act required more effort than you could muster, mind sluggish and your sense dulled, voice thick and unsteady.

You were undeniably and completely fucked. To say the least.

Drunk, Intoxicated. Mentally impaired. Right, how could Jenna even forget that?

You barely managed to step inside when your legs gave out, sending you tumbling to the floor.

The world tilted and spun around you as if you were a sun blinded by its own solar system. Your vision blurred and you struggled to make sense of the swirling images and a familiar blobby brunette girl in your home.

To no surprise, Jenna was at your side in an instant, crouching down with her face filled with concern as she looked you over, her arms reaching out to steady you. "Y/n… Why on earth do you have a huge straight bump on your forehead?"

"I…" you mumbled, blinking up at her. Her face looked like one of those spiky and blobbed images you see through a rain-streaked window. "I was—I was watching one of those 'how to be a good girlfriend in an LDR relationship' videos on the way home. And—and well, there was a pole."

Jenna's expression shifted, concern to curiosity. "What… What? What do you mean? Why? Why are you searching those—"

You felt like your chest was closing in on you, your throat mimicked those of a barren wasteland, and embarrassment washed over you like a tidal wave. You wanted to shrug it off, to laugh and tell her you were just curious, that it was nothing. But you couldn't.

"Because!" you burst out, voice trembling as you looked away from her eyes, "How else am I supposed to believe that I'm good enough when Jenna's halfway across the world? When every time she touches me, it's like she thinks I'm everything you've ever wished for in a star, and I—"

You faltered, your breath catching, the words threatened to slip away from you, but the emotions, doubt and fear—they had been building up for too long. You couldn’t stop now, even if you wanted to.

"I don't deserve it, I'm not enough for her. There's something more that i should be doing, something more I could be, because how can I be enough when she's there and I'm here? I can't hold her, I can't comfort her when she's stressed, I cant show her how much I care every day like I want to. How am I supposed to truly feel that I'm doing fine and she's feeling loved? Every time she tells me that I'm enough, I try to believe her, but—but there's this voice in my head that keeps saying, 'What if she's just saying it? What if one day, she realized she was wrong? That I'm not great, that she's just loving a version of me she created in her head, that she finds a fatal flaw in me that keeps her away from loving me? What if I'm not who she thought I was?"

You can't speak anymore, but your mouth persists in words like a machine. Your eyes already welled up, you bit your lip to stop it from trembling and forming a frown.

"I want to be perfect for her. I want her to feel like she's never missing anything from me or feel like she's falling short from the love she gives me and I give her. But I don't know how to do that. I don't know anything. So I watch those stupid videos to hope I'll find a way to be enough, to finally feel like I am. But no matter what I do, it feels like it'll never be. How can I be it when I'm not with her? How can I be enough from so far away?"

Tears blurred your vision as you tried to reach out, "I just miss her, Emma. I just miss her so damn much. I thought I could handle it, you know? That I could be strong, that I could keep it together until the next time I saw her. But it's been too long, I keep feeling like I'm falling apart. That my relationship is falling apart for her. I thought maybe if I just stepped back, she'd find what she needed without me getting in the way."

"I try to keep things feeling normal. I try to tell myself that the distance is temporary, that we’re strong enough to make it through, but what if we’re not? What if the longer this goes on, the more we rip apart? I don’t want to lose her, but I feel like I’m losing pieces of us every day."

"I'm scared, Emma," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm scared that one day, she'll take all her words back, she'll realize it's not enough. That every text she sends me is in complete dread, that she's just staying for the hell of it. That she finds a better relationship than what we have now."

Your gaze was locked on the floor, but Jenna's eyes were on you, wide and creased with confusion. The words you've thrown at her just echoed in her mind, looping relentlessly until they became the only thing she could hear along with the race of her heart thudding so loudly. She had been silent the whole time, listening to you pour out your fears, insecurities, on how much you've missed her.

She shouldn't have. She wasn't Emma.

Jenna's eyes flickered to you, your eyes was stuck on the floor, your shoulders slumped as if you were carrying the weight of the world. And in that moment, despite the ache in her chest, all she wanted was to hold you. It's the only thing that felt natural for her.

She closed the gap between you two, close enough that her knees brushed yours, and slowly enough as if she were afraid that you might pull away. The contact felt like a connection, barely there, yet it grounded you and your worries. It felt familiar.

Jenna's breath as she looked at you, her eyes searching your face for any sign that you were uncomfortable, that you were still here with her.

Without a word, she lifted her arms and wrapped them around you at last. Her touch was tentative, she was unsure you wanted her there, but as her hand rested on your back, she felt the subtle rise and fall of your breathing. You were relaxed in her arms, you became yourself underneath her hands. She pulled you in closer like she was trying to shield you from the weight of whatever thought you had put on yourself.

"Y/n," she spoke, you knew that voice. it wasn't distant or abstract, it was real, present, and undeniably her. You knew this. The fact that you didn’t pull away. You didn’t flinch. In fact, the moment her presence reached you, it was as if a piece of you had been anchored to the ground again.

You knew her.

The warmth of her skin, the gentle rise and fall of her chest as you let yourself pull in her, it was familiar, comforting. You hadn't even realized how tightly you've been holding onto your fears and worries. But now, with her, they're no longe the loud and consuming force they had been before.

"Jenna?" you whispered, your voice was barely audible, trembling as it left your lips and hope it gets through with her.

It was the first time you had said her name aloud in her presence. You could feel her heartbeat against her chest, the steady rhythm that took both of you off. You pulled away from her embrace, looking at her as if you saw a ghost.

"I'm back home," she whispered back, her voice soft like it never changed.

Her words settled into your bones, offering a comfort that you didn't realize you've been craving so desperately. And for the first time in what felt like a long time, you allowed yourself to believe them. She wasn’t just saying it—she meant it. Jenna was here, she wasn’t going to leave.

You didn’t care what she had to say; it felt impolite, selfish even, but all you wanted was to crash into her arms like you had before. You were no longer standing at a distance. You didn’t think, you didn’t hesitate, you just moved.

With a sudden rush, you wrapped your arms around her as if she were the only lifeline you had in a world that felt like it was spinning out of control.

You clung to her as you murmured her name over and over again as if it was a prayer the heavens needed to hear. Your fingers gripped the fabric of her shirt and every part of you was aware of her. How her body felt against yours, the way she held you felt like a promise saying she wouldn't let you go in her life.

“I’m so sorry,” you choked out, your voice shaking as you pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, your tears blurring your vision. "I'm sorry for everything. For doubting you, for pushing you away when you clearly didn't want to.

"You’re finally here," you murmured, as you looked up at her, "You’re back with me."

Jenna's grip around you tightened, and you could feel her smile that always made you float in the air, even though you couldn't see it. "I missed you," she said softly, "I was so worried about you and I kept thinking about all the things we used to do together. I missed the way you laugh, the way you always know how to make me feel better. I just wanted to hear your voice again, to feel close to you. Don't worry about falling short, I'm already standing on a mountain of love that you've given me."

It was her, she was the same Jenna you've always loved. How she held you in your arms, how she kissed you after apologizing countless of times, how she feels in your arms, how she moves, how she laughs, how she makes you feel like you're safe and secured. Uncertainty washed away from you.

[freshxsturniolo]

im sorry - chris sturniolo x femreader

summary : in which you and chris get into your worst argument yet, to the point you think its all over.

warnings : angst, arguing, fluff.

"do you think you should maybe, slow down?" your friend whispers from the side of you as you finish yet another vodka soda. you wipe at your lip as a small bit of the liquid missed your mouth and turn to her, hitting the glass on the table a little harder than intend.

"my relationship is as good as finished. no. i need another." you say. a sentence that just a few weeks ago would have had you sobbing, but now just made you angry.

you had promised yourself that you would never let any man treat you like you were worthless. you'd never simp for a man so hard that you'd be crying in your bed alone. and yet chris sturniolo had ticked every box.

he was your sweetheart. the first person to show you what true love was. but your too different personalities had finally hit heads. you arguments over the last month where harsh. unforgiving, almost. and yet you still stayed. both of you did.

but tonight had been different. you hadn't spoken in two days, despite living in the same house. he preoccupied himself with work, which was understandable, and you preoccupied yourself with everything but his presence. but when his brother and your best friend nick asked you both over dinner to talk to each other, you world had shattered.

"can you both please just talk this out? i dont know the extent of your argument but this is becoming unbearable."

you had looked at nick with a sorry expression on your face. you did feel bad, the triplets had been more than nice enough to allow you to move in and you hated the hostile feeling you were both bringing to the house, but when you looked back at chris, his eyes on his plate, and he shrugged, you felt your heart in your throat.

when he uttered the words. "i don't think theres anything left to say anymore", your world broke.

you stood up from your chair immediately, a silence around the table that was unbearable, and you kept your eyes trained on your boyfriend. but he didn't look up. you nodded, before you looked at both nick and matt, there eyes on you in a sympathetic glare, and you gave them a smile before you removed yourself, running down the stairs and out into the fresh air. you couldn't even summon tears.

so you headed to the bar. you rang your friend, who was there in a flash, but you were five drinks down by that point and you had no plans to stop.

"you're being ridiculous" your friend said now, holding your wrist and dragging you down as you went to stand up, you stumbled back into your chair and she gave you an eye. "you both need time to cool off."

you scoffed. "cool off?” you say again, looking back towards the bar.

"where is nick? or matt?" your friend says now and you shrug.

"have they not text?" she asks.

"nick followed me out" you say, remembering back to just an hour ago.

the anger that surged through you when hit the fresh air and out into the driveway was unbearable. this had been going on for too long, you yourself could admit that. argument after argument after argument. but for chris to not even look at you, and utter words so heartbreaking in the presences of his brothers without speaking to you privately? you felt embarrassed. angry.

“y/n” you heard nick shout when you were only half way down the driveway, and you turned to him immediately. you were angry but you weren’t going to take it out on him. he was your best friend. he had seen the hurt in your eyes even though you had tried to push it down over the last two days of silence between you and chris.

“please, come back in” he had said, and you give him a sympathetic smile.

“i need to walk this off, nick” you say, and he sighed when he finally reached you. you held out your arms immediately and he was bringing you in for an embrace within seconds.

“do you want me to come with you?” he had said, and you smiled.

“be there for chris”

“what he just said to you in there was uncalled for. matts with him, i want to be here for you”

you smiled. “he’s your brother. and i think he just broke up with me. he can act the tough guy all he wants, i know he’ll want you” you said.

he didn’t tell you but nick was in awe of you. he could see your anger and your upset, could see the way you didn’t know if to scream or cry, and yet your resilience in that moment he thought was admirable. you were completely unaware of the conversations that were happening in the house after that moment whilst you were now sat with your friend, but for the time being you didn’t care.

your friend let out a sigh as you finally scrambled out of her grip, declining your offer of a drink you were going to buy her as you walk across to the bar. it was busy, and you were already swaying from left to right as you used the bar to steady yourself.

“what’s a pretty girl like you doing out here all alone?”

your head whipped up at the sound of the voice. a man you did not recognise leant against the bar at the side of you, his eyes looking you up and down. you knew instantly there was nothing sleazy or untoward about him. his aura gave off nothing but positivity, so you cracked a smile.

“oh, you know. just letting my hair down”

he laughed. “no boyfriend? or girlfriend? sorry, i don’t want to assume”

you smiled. “boyfriend.” you confirm. “no, hes -“

and there it is. the hurt hits you. you look up at the man who's smiling at you, already stepped back an inch after you had told him you had a boyfriend, and the argument springs up again.

"hes not here." you utter, before a laugh escapes you. where was he? you grab your phone from your pocket, no messages having coming through. you think back to the way it was nick that chased you out the door, and not him. and suddenly you feel sick. you look at the man stood in front of him and you utter a sorry before you turn on your heel, heading towards the your friend who's sat watching you from the table you were just at.

"i need to go" you say, and she looks at you for a second before standing up.

"i'll take you" she says. you nod, unable to even thank her with the surge of emotions that run through your body. you had jumped into an uber on the way here and your friend had driven, clearly knowing she wasn't going to end up drinking with you. really, she knew you wouldn't last long before you wanted to head home, so to her this was planning out exactly as she imagined.

you reach the outside of the bar, just a small one not even 10 minutes from the triplets house and the fading sunset hits you, you can feel the lump in your throat. your friend grabs hold of your arm as she pulls you down towards the street and to her car, but when you're half way there she finally speaks to you, noticing that your energy has shifted ever so slightly since being outside and the LA sunshine hitting your skin.

"are you okay?" she asks, and you look away from the skyline to her. and you laugh.

"no. no im not."

she gives you a sympathetic smile. "you're angry, i can tell. but i feel theres more too it. please dont give up on each other."

you nod as you reach her car, climbing into the passenger seat as she unlocks it and gets into the driver side after ensuring you're settled. she gives you another smile before she pulls off into the street, and you try your best to calm down. there were so many things you wanted to say to him. you wanted to scream at him. you wanted to cry at him. you wanted to ask him where it had all gone wrong.

youre so submerged in your own thoughts that you don't even realised when you pull up outside. you jerk your head up and let out a loud sigh, before looking to your friend.

"do you need a minute?" she says. "you look like you're going to cry. dont let him see you cry."

you smile as you reach over and give her a hug. "im okay. i'll be okay. thank you, so much."

you get out of the car and shut the door, double checking your pockets for your belongings. you could tell you were drunk, it had been an hour since you stepped off the driveway and ordered an uber to the bar and you'd drank way too quick, so you gather yourself as your friend drives off. taking a deep breath, looking up at the sky as the darkness finally sets in.

when you feel okay enough, you let out a large breath before turning on your heel, making your way up the drive way. you dont know what you were going to say. you were angry. you were hurt. and you feared when you did see him, you'd finally break down.

reaching the door to the house you unlock it slowly and quietly, needing a few more minutes before you saw anyone, but when you heard the three of them upstairs, you let out a breath. you're not sure what they're talking about, but you can make out the mumble of chris' voice and you turn on your heel, heading towards your shared bedroom, quietly opening and closing the door behind you.

when the door clinks shut, you lean against it, letting out a sigh of relief. but it hurts. you're drunk. you're feeling everything at once and the tears flow. pulling your hand over your mouth to muffle any noise, you make your way to the bathroom.

but he's heard you. the door opens, and his voice fills the room.

"baby" he says. and you snap.

spinning on your heel, you move your hand from your mouth. you know you look a mess. fresh tears on your cheeks. hair in a messy bun. you feel embarrassed that you'd even gone to the bar looking the way you did but in the moment it felt right.

chris' eyes widen when he sees you.

"fuck. baby -"

"baby!?" you spit. "baby?!"

and you see his adams apple move as he takes a gulp.

"please don't-"

"don't what?!" you spit. you take a deep gulp as you compose yourself, wiping under your eyes to take away the tears. you didn't want to argue. you didn't want to cry. but there was something inside you that was raging. "don't what, chris?"

"listen to me, please" he says, and walks over to your, grabbing at your wrists, but you pull them away immediately and head towards the bathroom. he's close behind you. "im so sorry, baby. im so so sorry"

you spin around immediately, and he accidentally walks into your chest. you take a slight step back at the side time as him, and your breath is harsh. "sorry? for what, chris? for talking to me like a piece of shit in front of your brothers? for ignoring for me the last two days? can you even remember what we were arguing about?"

"no but-"

"but what?!" you say, and the tears are falling again. "but what, chris? do you want to break up? do you want this to end? because thats what it sounds like to me and i'd prefer for you to tell me privately that in front of your brothers, because-"

"stop it, y/n. stop it!" he says, and he grabs at your hands again, but you pull them away, stepping beside him to reenter his bedroom. but you come to a stop. because you don't know where to go. you need to have this conversation. you know you do. but you're drunk, you're hungry, you're all of a sudden irritated and overstimulated.

so you cry. again. and you spin around to look at him as he to reenters his bedroom. he's crying to.

"please, listen to me" he chokes.

"i dont-"

"baby, stop it." he says, and he rushes right over to your side, taking your hands in his. you pull them away again, but this time he doesn't accept it.

"fuck, you're killing me." he says, and this time he grabs your wrists, pulling them up and stepping forward, trapping your arms in his hands in-between the both of yours chest.

"get off me" you say, but you don't mean it. you're angry but the first bit of physical touch from him in 2 days feels electrifying.

"no." he says, and you sniffle a cry before looking into his eyes. they too, rimmed with tears. this close you realise that they're too raw, and his lips are too swollen to have only just started crying.

"have you been crying?" you whisper, and he laughs. only slightly, but its a laugh, a smile appears on your face to.

"i love you." he starts. "I know that much is true. i dont know what the fuck has happened to us but i fucking love you. so much it hurts sometimes actually. i think thats why I coward away when we do fight. i cant handle it, y/n. i cant handle when you look at me when you're hurt or upset, it's easier to walk away and let us both cool off. and i know thats wrong, fuck nick and matt have just had my life about it, and im sorry."

you look at him. searching his face. his hair. feeling his hands and body on yours.

"why do we even fight, chris?" you ask now.

"i dont know, baby."

"am i too much? was moving in with you too much?"

he shakes his head immediately. "no, god no please dont think that."

you sigh, and he finally removes his hands from your arms. you take a step back, sitting on his bed, and he comes to join you.

"im so sorry for what i said earlier. i was being stubborn." he says, and you laugh slightly.

"we both were, chris. two days of ignoring each other."

he laughs too, and he places his hand on your thigh. you don't flinch away, but you don't reach for it either.

"do you want to be with me, chris? tell me the truth. because i can't keep being hurt like this. im not blaming you, either. its me, too."

he turns slightly to look at you, and you can see the genuine panic in his eyes. "if you were to break up with me, i dont know how i would survive. i mean it. i dont know why i said what i said earlier. embarrassed maybe, that nick had mentioned it. embarrassed i had let it carry on for two days. i dont know. but i know im sorry. not just for that but for all the times we argue."

the tears have brimmed in your eyes again and you let out a small smile, finally bringing your hand to his.

"I think we are both incredibly stubborn." you start. "and easily hot headed. and you're a social butterfly when i sometimes like to chill."

"i know" chris admits.

"but i love you, so much. i shouldn't have ran out earlier." you admit, and chris shakes his head.

"no. i shouldn't have let nick run after you. it should have been me." he says.

"its okay." you say now.

"do you forgive me?" chris asks, and just his face alone, his beautiful yet saddened face, makes you want to cry.

"yes. and you me?"

he laughs. "yes."

you chuckle, and then you finally lean in, his lips on yours. arguments were normal, you had to remind yourself that. but deep down, you loved this man to death, and he you.

when you finally pull away from your kiss, your first kiss in days, chris grabs your face in his hands. "im going to marry you, one day."

you heart jumps. "that so?"

he nods. "i already told nick and matt."

"when?"

he smiles. "when nick came back and gave me an ear full after speaking to you outside. he told me what you said. the way you were angry but you knew i would want him to be there. and it just blurted out."

you smile, a sense of relief washing over you.

"because i love you, dumbass. even if you do get on my last nerve sometime."

he chuckles, pressing his lips against yours.

"you stink of vodka" he mumbles in your lips, and you smile.

"im celebrating."

he pulls away, giving you another eye. "celebrating what?"

you chuckle. "my man wants to marry me one day." and you crash your lips against his once more.

[sadnymi]

Lovefool p2

[part one] [Mattheo riddle x reader]

Summary: Being the only girl in the group, and now stuck in the middle of nowhere with them, you found myself in a tricky situation. You had to share rooms, and Mattheo, leaving no room for negotiation, insisted that you would share with him. The problem was, there was only one bed. From uncovering feelings to heartbreak, it was a night you wouldn't forget.

Warning: angst,fluff,strong language, hints of smut .

Words:5,5k + Bonus scene.

When we arrived back home, I quickly said goodbye to the boys, avoiding eye contact with all of them. I couldn't bear to see their pity or confusion. I just wanted to escape to the solitude of my room. Once inside, I shut the door and leaned against it, finally allowing myself to break down. Tears streamed down my face as I slid to the floor, clutching my knees to my chest.

There was only one week left before returning to Hogwarts, and I knew I would have to face them—most of all, Mattheo. The thought of seeing him again made my stomach churn. During that week, I waited for him to reach out, to say something, anything, that would make sense of what happened. But he didn’t. The silence from him was deafening, and it drove me insane.

All the other boys sent me messages as usual. Even Blaise, who had been so harsh, reached out, perhaps feeling guilty for his words. But not Mattheo. He ghosted me completely, and the pain was unbearable. Every time my phone buzzed, my heart would leap with hope, only to be crushed when it wasn’t him.

I spent days replaying our time together in my mind, trying to understand what went wrong. Had I misread everything? Was I just another conquest to him? The questions tormented me, and the lack of answers made it worse.

I remember that night vividly. The way he looked at me, the tenderness in his touch, the passion in his kisses—it all felt so real. But now, it seemed like a cruel illusion, a trick my heart played on me.

I tried to distract myself by throwing myself into reading, but every word I read seemed to blur into the memory of him. I’d catch myself staring at the same page for hours, lost in thoughts of his hands on my skin, his whispered words.

By the middle of the week, the weight of his absence was unbearable. I lay in bed, clutching my phone, scrolling through old messages, and torturing myself with his silence. The boys' messages were kind and casual, but they couldn't fill the void Mattheo left.

Enzo’s messages were the most frequent, always checking in on me, making sure I was okay. “Hey, how are you holding up?” he’d text, and I’d force myself to respond with a lie. “I’m fine, thanks,” I’d write back, even though I was anything but fine.

Blaise's messages were surprisingly considerate. “Sorry about the other day. Didn’t mean to upset you,” he’d said. I couldn’t bring myself to be angry with him; he had only voiced what I feared was true.

But Mattheo? Nothing. No calls, no texts, no attempts to explain or apologize. It felt like he had erased me from his life completely.

The pain was relentless, gnawing at me day and night. I felt hollow, like a shell of the person I had been before. I missed his voice, his laughter, the way he made me feel seen and cherished. I missed him so much it hurt to breathe.

The final straw came the night before we were due to return to Hogwarts. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, and realized I couldn’t go on like this. I needed to confront him, to demand answers. I couldn’t start the new school year with this weight on my shoulders. I had to face him, even if it meant shattering my heart all over again.

I took a deep breath and picked up my phone, my fingers trembling as I typed out a message. “Mattheo, we need to talk. Please.” I hit send and waited, my heart pounding in my chest. Minutes felt like hours as I watched the screen, praying for a response.

But none came. The silence stretched on, suffocating me, and I knew that no matter what happened, I had to find a way to move forward. With or without him.

I boarded the train with a heavy heart, my eyes scanning the crowded platform. As soon as I found Enzo, I slid into the seat next to him, trying to muster a smile.

“Hi,” I said, glancing briefly at Mattheo, who was sitting across from us.

“Hey,” Mattheo replied, his voice neutral, his gaze avoiding mine.

Theo soon returned, his eyes lighting up when he saw me. “How have you been?” he asked.

“I’ve been okay,” I lied, forcing another smile. Before I could say more, Draco and Blaise joined us, making the compartment feel even more cramped and awkward.

“Hi,” Draco said, his voice soft, his eyes flicking between me and Mattheo. Blaise offered a similar greeting, his usual bravado toned down, as if he sensed the tension.

I tried to lose myself in my book, Emma another Jane Austen novel, hoping it would distract me from the unbearable atmosphere. But I could feel Mattheo’s eyes on me, and each glance was like a dagger to my heart. His stare was intense, and it made concentrating impossible.

“I’m going to say hi to Pansy,” I announced suddenly, grabbing my bag and book. I left the compartment quickly, not giving anyone a chance to respond.

As I walked down the corridor, I realized I couldn’t face Pansy either. She would ask questions, and I had no answers. I turned a corner, only to overhear a group of girls talking animatedly about their exploits.

“Enzo is amazing,” one girl said, giggling. “Blaise too, though he’s a bit too cocky for my taste.”

“Oh, Theo is a sweetheart,” another girl chimed in. “But Mattheo... God, he’s something else.”

My ears pricked up at his name, and I leaned closer, my heart pounding.

“What’s it like with Mattheo?” a third girl asked, her voice dripping with curiosity.

“He’s rough, but in a good way,” the first girl said, her voice lowering conspiratorially. “He barely looked at me, but I didn’t mind. It felt so good. He didn’t kiss me, though, just... did his thing and left.”

My heart pounded as I continued to listen, hiding behind the corner.

"God, I'd do anything to sleep with Mattheo again," the first girl said, her voice filled with a mix of longing and frustration. "But he doesn't sleep with the same girl twice."

"Yeah, he's got a reputation for that," another girl chimed in. "And yet, somehow, they all are so different with her you know??," she said, her tone dripping with disdain.

" Y/N right? What's so special about her anyway?" a third girl asked, her voice filled with venom.

"She's always hanging around them, like she's one of them. I can't understand how she managed to get in their group."

"I bet they all fucked her at some point," the first girl said, her voice low and conspiratorial. "Do you think they share her? She's their slut for sure."

"I know right?," another girl agreed, her laughter harsh and cruel. "I mean, how else would she keep their attention? She must be really good in bed."

"Or maybe she just does whatever they want," the third girl added. "So pathetic, really. Always trying to act like she's so special. I bet she’s just a desperate little slut."

My heart pounded as I continued to listen, hiding behind the corner.

"Yeah, spreads her legs for any of them at the drop of a hat," another girl sneered. "She's probably been passed around like a party favor."

"And they act so protective of her," the first girl said with a bitter laugh. "I can't imagine why. What do they see in her?"

"They must be playing some kind of game," the third girl suggested. "Maybe seeing who can screw her over the most."

My heart beat faster and faster, each cruel word piercing deeper. Tears blurred my vision as I stepped away from the corner, desperate to escape their venomous gossip.

The world around me seemed to blur as I walked faster, not caring where I was going, just needing to get away. I collided with a strong chest, and looking up through my tears, I saw Mattheo.

"Why are you crying? “ His voice was sharper than a knife

“Who did this to you?" He asked once more when I didn’t answer his hands gently cupped my face, his thumbs wiping away my tears.

I pulled away, my voice shaking. "I'm not talking to you," I said, the tears flowing freely. I turned to leave, but he grabbed my hand.

"Stop it. Let me go," I demanded, trying to pull free from his grip.

"Not unless I know what got you crying like that," he insisted, his eyes filled with the same loving and caring expression that had once made my heart soar.

I looked away, the pain and confusion overwhelming me. "Just go and ignore me like you have been for the past week, or whatever," I said, my voice bitter. "Pretend I don't exist. You're good at that."

His face fell, looking speechless for a moment. I didn’t wait for him to respond. I pulled away, breaking into a run until I found an empty compartment far away from everyone. I slammed the door shut and collapsed onto the seat, sobbing uncontrollably.

The cruel words of the girls echoed in my mind, mingling with the confusion and heartbreak of Mattheo's unexpected concern. Why did he have to care now, after leaving me in silence for a week?

As the train rumbled on, I curled up on the seat, hugging my knees to my chest. The weight of everything pressed down on me, and I felt utterly alone. I had no answers, only questions that seemed to multiply with each passing moment. Why had he treated me so tenderly, only to disappear? And why did it hurt so much to see that same tenderness now, when I was already so broken?

Why had Mattheo been so different with me? Cause I’m pretty sure I wasn’t imagining that night and from what I heard from those girls it seems like he’s a different person from the one they are talking about .

I had a long time trying to explain to the boys why I suddenly disappeared and never returned. They didn’t look convinced, and their probing questions made it clear they weren’t buying my excuses.

Days passed, and I tried to put some space between me and all of them. It wasn’t easy. Draco cornered me in the common room one evening, his eyes filled with concern. "Something happened," he said, his voice low and insistent. "Tell me what it is."

"I'm fine, Draco. It's just family drama," I lied, my stomach twisting with guilt.

"You’ve been skipping meals and acting different," Theo added, joining us with a frown. "This isn’t like you."

"I told you, it’s family stuff," I insisted, hating how naked I felt under their scrutiny. It was like they could see right through my facade.

"Just...let us help," Draco pleaded, but I shook my head, turning away from their worried gazes.

Over the next few days, I was in a bit of a slump. Not only did I skip meals, but I also skipped more classes than usual. If I could have, I would have skipped the whole week, but unfortunately, that wasn't an option.

I grabbed my bag and walked through the courtyard, I overheard a girl talking loudly to her friends. "She's such a slut," she sneered, and my steps faltered. "I bet she's been with every Slytherin boy."

I stopped, my blood boiling. I turned around and marched over to her, my fists clenched. "What did you say?"

The girl looked taken aback for a moment but quickly recovered. "I said you're a slut. Everyone knows it."

The rage bubbling inside me reached a boiling point. "You think you know me? You think you can talk about me like that? Here’s a newsflash for you: I don’t need your approval or your pathetic opinions.“

Before she could respond, a boy next to her smirked. “Yeah, I’d love to fuck you just like the whole Slytherin boys have. Bet you’d like that, huh?”

I stepped closer, my fists clenched at my sides. "Why don’t you come a bit closer and say that to my face?" I said, my voice trembling with rage.

The crowd that had gathered around us watched with wide eyes and open mouths. "What's wrong?" the girl taunted. "Truth hurts?"

“Do you think it makes you look strong, demeaning someone you don’t even know? Do you think you’re better than me because you can spread lies and gossip? You’re pathetic. You think I care about what you say? The only thing that matters is that I know the truth, and that scares you, doesn’t it? Because deep down, you know you’ll never be anything more than a coward hiding behind cruel words.”

The girl, emboldened by the attention, added, "Your family must be so proud of you. What a disgrace."

"Shut your mouth," I said, stepping closer, my eyes burning with anger. "I don’t care what you think of me, but if you ever talk about my family again, you’ll regret it."

She looked a bit scared but tried to stand her ground. "Or what? You'll hit me? No wonder why your dad left,""

I saw red. I lunged at her, my fist raised, but strong arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me back. "Let go!" I yelled, struggling against the hold.

"Not her, not now, love," Mattheo's voice whispered in my ear, calming yet firm. He started to pull me away from the mess, his grip gentle but unyielding.

"Mattheo, let go of me," I insisted, trying to break free.

"Not until you calm down," he replied, his eyes full of concern. "I can't let you get into trouble over this."

He guided me into an empty hallway with a balcony, a secluded spot even the ghosts avoided. I was still shaking with rage, my breathing ragged. "Who do you think you are? Don’t touch me! Stay away!" I shouted, pushing at his chest.

"Just breathe, my love," he murmured, his hands cupping my face gently, thumbs stroking my cheeks. "Breathe with me."

His touch, his voice, started to pierce through the fog of anger. I took a shaky breath, then another, my heartbeat slowly steadying.

"Look at me," he said softly, tilting my chin up so our eyes met. "Every single one who talks bad about you is going to regret it. They’re going to wish they were dead before they ever said a word."

"Why do you act like this?" I demanded, my voice trembling. "You act like you care, like you—" I faltered, trying to find the right words. "Your mixed signals are driving me crazy! You pull me closer just to walk away after."

He looked pained, his eyes searching mine for understanding, but he said nothing.

"Say something!" I pleaded, tears welling up. "Anything!"

Still, he remained silent, and the silence cut deeper than any words ever could.

Footsteps echoed down the hallway, and the rest of the boys appeared. Blaise was the first to speak, his gaze flicking between me and Mattheo. "You okay?" he asked.

I nodded, trying to swallow the lump in my throat. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Theo stepped forward, his brow furrowed. "This happened before, didn't it?"

I took a deep breath, nodding again. "Yes."

Draco crossed his arms, his expression softening. "Well, that explains why you were acting distant. You should have told us."

"I didn't know what to say," I admitted, feeling exposed and vulnerable.

Enzo's voice was gentle as he asked, "What happened before?"

I glanced at Mattheo, who was watching me with an unreadable expression. I couldn't bear his eyes on me anymore. Looking back at Enzo, I said quietly, "It was on the train."

Their eyes widened as I recounted the overheard conversation, the cruel words that had been said about me, and how it had all culminated in the confrontation just now. Mattheo's gaze never left me, and I knew what he was thinking, but I couldn't deal with it anymore.

"I'm sorry," I said, my voice breaking. "I just... I need to go to my dorm. I'll see you all tomorrow."

Enzo stepped forward, his concern evident. "I'll walk you."

I nodded, unable to look at Mattheo as I turned to leave. Enzo fell into step beside me, his presence a small comfort amidst the chaos.

The next day, as I walked into class, I was met with an unexpected wave of greetings and offers of help.

"Hey, need any notes from yesterday?" asked one girl, her smile bright and friendly.

"I saved you a seat," another girl said, gesturing to the spot next to her.

"Do you need a quill? I've got an extra," someone else offered, holding out a shiny new quill.

I looked around, confused by the sudden change in behavior. These were the same people who had ignored me or worse, whispered behind my back just a day ago. Before I could process it, a group of girls approached, all smiles and compliments.

"Your hair looks amazing today," one of them said, her tone overly enthusiastic.

"Yeah, and your shoes are so cute!" another added.

"Thanks," I muttered, bewildered by their sudden interest.

Then, the girl from yesterday's confrontation appeared, looking hesitant. She took a deep breath and stepped closer. "I'm really sorry about what I said yesterday," she began, her voice shaky. "Please forgive me. I didn't mean any of it, and I feel terrible."

I stared at her, trying to make sense of this abrupt apology. "Why are you apologizing now?" I asked, suspicion creeping into my voice.

Before she could respond, I noticed him. The boy who had made that disgusting comment about me the day before. His arm was in a sling, supported by a wooden splint, and his face was a mess of blue and purple bruises. He had a black eye, swollen nearly shut.

"I, uh, fell down the stairs," he mumbled, not meeting my gaze.

I looked between the two of them, realization dawning. My stomach churned, and I felt the sudden urge to get out of there. Grabbing my things, I bolted from the classroom, not stopping until I was far from the castle. I found myself in a hidden garden, a place where I often went to think.

I sat down on the ground, trying to calm my racing heart and catch my breath. I wasn't dumb. I knew what had really happened. I knew who was behind the sudden wave of attention, the apologies, the broken bones. It wasn't hard to piece it together.

Mattheo.

But clarity seemed a distant dream. I leaned back against the tree, closing my eyes, and tried to find a moment of calm amidst the chaos Mattheo had left in his wake.

I stayed in the garden for what felt like hours, trying to find some semblance of peace amidst the turmoil. Eventually, I knew I would have to face him, to confront what had happened and what it meant. But for now, I just needed to breathe.

I felt someone approaching and sat beside me. I looked up and met Mattheo’s eyes. He was holding a book in his hand.

I felt someone approaching and sat up, my heart pounding. When I looked up, I met Mattheo’s eyes. He was holding a book in his hand.

"I—I got this for you," he said, his voice soft.

I glanced at the book, then back at him, and took it from his hand. It was Persuasion, another Jane Austen's novels. My heart beat even faster as I muttered a thank you. Then I noticed the blood on his hands, despite his clear attempts to wash it off.

He asked, "What were you reading on the train?"

I stared at him, incredulous. "You’re seriously asking me about my books while having blood on your hands? and probably terrorized the whole school before coming here!" I shouted.

He just smirked. "Are you insane, Mattheo? Seriously, what the hell?" I yelled again.

He raised his eyebrows, a hint of a smile on his lips. "I told you they were going to regret what they said yesterday, didn't I?"

"I can take care of myself. I don’t need your help," I snapped, trying to walk away, but he grabbed my hand, pulling me back until my back hit the tree.

"I know," he said.

I rolled my eyes and looked away, trapped between his hands on either side of my face and the tree behind me. His closeness was overwhelming.

"You’re insane," I muttered.

"Well, I need to talk to you, and you left me no other choice," he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

I chuckled sarcastically. "You kidding me? Because as much as I remember, you were the one who left after—" I stammered, my face turning red, unable to finish the sentence.

"Yes, my love, after what?" he asked, smiling even wider.

"After I went down on you? Or when I had my finger deep inside you?" he continued, his voice low and teasing. I put my hands over his mouth, desperate to stop him.

"Oh, Lord, stop," I said, my voice a whisper. He kissed my hand, sending a jolt through me, and I pulled it away quickly, my face burning even more.

"Don’t go shy on me now, love. I’m pretty sure I kissed more intimate parts," he said, leaning closer to whisper in my ear. "I've had your taste on my tongue for weeks."

I tried to hit him in the chest, but he grabbed both my hands with one hand, pinning them above my head.

“Listen,” he said, getting more serious. “Enzo told me about what Blaise said that day.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think I really want to know another tale about you with a girl in bed.”

“Another tale?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

I looked him in the eyes, my voice trembling with both anger and hurt. “I heard what that girl said on the train. About how good you were in bed, how you liked it rough, just did the job and left with no kisses. She wasn’t even complaining, Mattheo. She said she’d do anything to sleep with you again, but it’s too bad because you don’t sleep with the same girl twice."

“Did she now?” he said, smirking.

“Fuck you, Mattheo,” I said, trying to pull away, but his hold was too strong. “Fuck you so much. I get it. I was delusional to think it was more than a one-time thing for you because you don’t sleep with the same girl twice, you don’t—” My voice cracked, betraying my emotions.

"Did it look like a fucking one-time thing back then, Y/N?" he demanded, sharp and serious. I avoided his gaze, my anger and pain battling inside me.

"Answer," he insisted, his face inches from mine. I looked up at him, the intensity in his eyes making it hard to breathe.

"No," I admitted, my voice barely audible.

"Because it fucking wasn’t," he said. "It wasn’t a simple fuck. I was making love to you, and that freaked the shit out of me." The veins in his neck stood out as he spoke, his eyes blazing.

I blinked, trying to process his words. "So, yes," he continued, his voice lower but no less intense, "what the girl said was right. I’ve fucked other girls like that. Rough, fast, no strings attached. Just getting off and moving on. No kisses, no tenderness, just raw and dirty, didn’t look at them more than I had to.”

My breathing grew heavier as his words sank in.“So, does it look like that now?” he asked, his voice softer but still intense. I closed my eyes, overwhelmed.

“Fucking look at me Y/N,” he commanded, and I looked up at him, shaking my head.

“Every time I look at you, at those lips,” he whispered, his voice dropping lower, “all I can think about is how much I want to kiss you. How much I want to taste you. How much I want you in every way. It’s not just about fucking. It’s about you. Every part of you, that night... you were in my arms, and I managed to sleep. You have no idea how rare that is for me.”

His words sent a shiver down my spine, my body responding despite my confusion. I could feel the heat between us, the undeniable pull that had always been there.

I looked at him, standing there, rain-soaked and intense, and the tears kept falling from my eyes.

“And no, I don’t want you to be my friend,” he continued, his voice rising. “I want to hear you moaning my name. I want to have you, all of you. To kiss every inch of you. To make you smile, to see you laugh. To put your happiness above anything because nothing else matters. Nothing but you.”

His words were raw, cutting through the rain and my confusion. The sheer intensity of his confession left me breathless, my heart pounding in my chest. I could feel the pull, the magnetic force between us, stronger than ever.

“I’ve tried to stay away, to keep my distance,” he went on, his voice breaking slightly. “But every time I see you, it’s like a punch to the gut. I’m fighting a losing battle. I don’t just want you. I need you. In every way possible.”

I stood there, soaked and trembling, unable to speak. His words had stripped me bare, leaving me vulnerable and exposed. The rain continued to pour, a relentless backdrop to his declaration.

“So tell me, do you understand now?” he asked again, his voice softer.

I swallowed hard, my throat tight with emotion. The truth of his words was undeniable, resonating deep within me. I took a shaky breath, trying to steady myself, and met his gaze.

“Yes,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “I understand.”

He reached out, gently wiping the tears from my cheeks. “I will be so good to you,” he murmured, his thumb brushing my skin. “I would do anything for you. I fucked up, and I—”

I stood on my tiptoes and pressed my lips to his, cutting him off. For a moment, he was surprised and didn’t kissed me back, I pulled back, looking him in the eye. And as if a dam had broken, he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer.

He leaned down, capturing my mouth in a deep, hungry kiss. His lips were soft but insistent, demanding and giving all at once. I felt his hands on my waist, lifting me effortlessly. My legs wrapped around his hips as he held me against him, the kiss growing more passionate. The rain poured down, but it didn’t matter. Nothing else.

His tongue parted my lips, and I opened to him, the taste of him intoxicating. He kissed me with a fervor that made my head spin, his hands gripping my hips, pulling me tighter against him. I could feel the hard lines of his body, the heat between us almost unbearable.

"Wait," I managed to gasp, pulling back slightly. "The book, the rain—"

"I'll get you a new one," he promised, his voice fierce, breathing heavily against my lips. His fingers tangled in my hair, pulling gently until my face tilted up to meet his gaze. Then he kissed me again, more fiercely this time, as if he couldn’t get enough.

I melted into him, my hands clinging to his shoulders as he devoured me. His lips moved over mine with a raw, desperate need, and I responded with equal fervor. The world around us disappeared, the rain, the cold, everything fading away until there was only him, only us.

After what felt like an eternity, he pulled back, his forehead resting against mine. "Come with me," he murmured, his voice a soft plea. "Let's get out of this rain."

I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest, his hand slipping into mine, and we ran through the rain. We found shelter under a nearby awning, the sudden silence after the roar of the rain almost surreal.

He looked at me, his eyes dark and intense, and I felt my breath catch in my throat. "You're soaked," he said, his voice gentle, as he brushed a strand of wet hair from my face.

"So are you," I replied, a smile tugging at my lips.

"Well, we make a pretty pair then," he teased, his hand settling on my waist.

I laughed, the sound light and carefree, a stark contrast to the storm still raging around us. "We do, don't we?"

His gaze softened, a tender smile playing on his lips. "I've never seen anyone look so beautiful soaking wet."

I rolled my eyes playfully, running a hand through his wet hair. "You're just saying that because you want to kiss me again."

He grinned, leaning in closer. "Maybe. But it's true." His lips hovered over mine, the anticipation making my heart race. "And for the record, I do want to kiss you again. Very much."

"Then what are you waiting for?" I challenged, my voice barely more than a whisper.

He didn't need any more encouragement. His lips captured mine in a kiss that was both sweet and passionate, his hand tightening on my waist, pulling me flush against him. I could feel the warmth of his body through the wet fabric of our clothes, the contrast to the chill of the rain making my skin tingle.

As the kiss deepened, his free hand slid up my back, tangling in my hair. I moaned softly against his lips, the sound making him groan in response. He pulled back slightly, his breath hot against my skin.

"You have no idea what you do to me," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. "The things I want to do to you."

My cheeks flushed, and I looked down, feeling a mix of excitement and shyness. "Like what?" I asked, my voice trembling slightly.

He tilted my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze. "I want to make you mine in every possible way," he said, his eyes burning with intensity. "I want to hear you scream my name, to see you come apart in my arms. I want to kiss every inch of you, to make you feel things you've never felt before."

His words sent a shiver down my spine, and I bit my lip, trying to suppress the blush that was spreading across my cheeks. "You're making me blush," I whispered, my voice shaky.

He smiled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Good. I like it when you blush." He leaned in, his lips brushing my ear. "I like knowing I'm the one making you feel this way."

I closed my eyes, my heart pounding in my chest. His words, his touch, everything about him was overwhelming. "You're insufferable," I muttered, but there was no heat in my words, only affection.

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through me. "You love it," he teased, his lips pressing a soft kiss to my neck.

I sighed, my fingers threading through his hair as I leaned into his touch. "Yeah, I do," I admitted, my voice barely more than a whisper. "I really do."

He pulled back, his eyes searching mine. "Good," he said softly, his hand cupping my face. "Because I'm not letting you go."

I smiled, feeling a warmth spread through me that had nothing to do with the rain. "I don't want you to,".

"So, I really have done it in your Mr. Darcy way, haven't I?" he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I was always jealous of him, when you talked about him like that you know?"

Before I could respond, his mouth was on my neck, kissing and sucking gently, then more insistently. I let out a soft moan, my fingers digging into his shoulders.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Perfect," he said, admiring his handiwork.

I laughed, breathless and flushed. "What was that for?"

He smirked, a wicked glint in his eyes. "It's for Blaise. Since he loves to ask so much."

I rolled my eyes, unable to suppress my smile. "You know he went on a date last night, right?"

"Did he now?" Mattheo replied, his fingers trailing down my arm. "I want everyone to know you're mine."

The possessiveness in his voice sent another thrill through me. "And what if I don't want to be claimed like some trophy?" I teased, raising an eyebrow.

He pulled me closer, his lips brushing against mine. "Then I'll just have to work harder to prove I deserve you," he whispered, his breath warm against my skin.

I smiled, feeling the warmth of his words seep into me. "You've already proven that," I said softly, kissing him again. "But I wouldn't mind seeing you try."

He laughed, the sound rich and joyful. "Challenge accepted."

We stood there for a while, wrapped in each other's arms, the rain a distant memory. His hands roamed over my back, his touch sending sparks of electricity through me. I leaned into him, feeling the steady beat of his heart against my chest, and knew that this was where I belonged.

"We should get inside," I said, glancing at the castle in the distance. "Before we catch our deaths."

"Right," he agreed, but made no move to let go. "But just one more kiss."

"Just one more," I echoed, leaning up to meet his lips again.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ Bonus scene ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

As we approached our usual spot, I saw Blaise, Enzo, Theo, Pansy and Draco already seated, with an unfamiliar girl sitting beside Blaise.

I caught Blaise’s curious gaze fixed on my neck. He raised an eyebrow, a knowing grin spreading across his face.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” Blaise said, his voice dripping with amusement. “Is that a hickey, Y/N?”

I felt my face heat up, and before I could muster a response, Mattheo leaned forward, his grin turning positively devilish.

“Yes, mate,” Mattheo said smoothly. “It is a hickey.”

Blaise’s eyes widened slightly before he broke into a laugh. “By whom, I wonder?”

Mattheo wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close. “By me, obviously,” he declared, his voice filled with pride. “Wanted to make sure everyone knows she’s mine.”

I blushed even deeper, but I couldn’t help the smile tugging at my lips.

Draco looked between us, his grin widening. “Well, it’s about time. I was starting to think you’d never make a move.”

Mattheo chuckled, his hand moving to rest possessively on my waist. “Trust me, I’ve made plenty of moves. Just decided it was time to make it official.”

He winked at me. “Just make sure he treats you right. If not, you know where to find me.”

Mattheo tightened his hold on me, his eyes flashing with a playful warning. “She won’t need to, because I’m going to treat her better than anyone else ever could.”

I laughed, the tension melting away as I leaned into Mattheo’s embrace. “I think I can handle him.”

"So," Pansy said, leaning forward with an impish grin. "Does this mean you're off the market, then?"

"Consider me taken," Mattheo said, his voice firm. "And very happily so."

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Tag list :

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[won4kiss]

⋆ ｡⋆୨୧˚— I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU !

𝜗𝜚 ༘⋆ ⋆˙pairing. enemy! park jongseong x fem! reader synopsis. you and jay had always despised each other- at least that’s what you thought until jay got a girlfriend, your true hidden feelings making its way to the surface- uh oh.. genre. angst ,, fluff ,, wc. 2500. 𝐥u𝐧a notes ⋆.˚ this is so labyrinth coded 🫧 — 𝓵𝗂𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗋𝔂

if you enjoyed reading, please like & reblog !! <3

YOU HAD KNOWN PARK JONGSEONG FOR AS LONG AS YOU COULD REMEMBER, AND YOU HATED HIM FOR NEARLY JUST AS LONG.

from the very first moment you laid eyes on him in kindergarten, he had been nothing but a thorn in your side. it all started when you had asked the young boy to be friends- instead of a yes, you got water spat on your face as he cackled at you- yes, cackled.

you despised him. his teasing, his smirks, his constant attempts to one-up you in every single aspect of life—it all grated on your nerves, day after day.

the relationship between you and jay was well-known. your friends and family had long since accepted it as a fact of life. you couldn't bare to stand him, and he couldn't stand you. it’s as simple as that.

until it wasn't.

the first crack in your carefully constructed wall of hatred came when jay got a girlfriend. her name was minji, and she was everything you were not—soft-spoken, gentle, and sweet. she was always by his side, laughing at his jokes, holding his hand. it shouldn't have mattered to you at all. in fact, you should have been relieved. if he was busy with his girlfriend, maybe he would leave you alone for once in your years of living.

but it didn't feel like relief. it felt like something else entirely, something you knew was wrong, something sharp and painful that you couldn't quite place. you found yourself watching them more than you would care to admit, your eyes drawn to the way he looked at her, his eyes sparkling, the way he touched her. and with each passing day, the ache in your chest grew stronger, more insistent. more unbearable.

you really did try to ignore it, to push it away deep inside of you and pretend it didn't exist, but it was no use. the feelings you had harboured for so long, hidden beneath layers of anger, resentment, and pride were bubbling up to the surface. you were falling for him, and you were falling deep. it was the most terrifying thing you had ever experienced as a teenage girl.

so, you did the only reasonable thing you could think of, you avoided him. you stopped going to places where you knew he would be, you stopped engaging in the petty arguments that had once been a staple of your interactions and everyday life. you had distanced yourself as much as you possibly could, hoping that the feelings would fade away with time.

but jay noticed. of course he did. and he didn't like it one bit.

one evening after school, after yet another successful day of avoiding jay, you found yourself cornered in the hallway of your apartment building, which he knew the address of from a day where you were sick, and delivered you your missed homework and soup, which he claimed he was forced to deliver to you.

he had been waiting for you, his expression a mixture of confusion, a bit of sadness? and anger.

"what's your problem, y/n?" he demanded, his voice low and tense. "why have you been avoiding me, huh?"

you crossed your arms, shaking off the butterflies from talking to him for the first time in weeks, trying to keep your composure. "i haven't been avoiding you," you lied, your voice shaken and unsteady

"bullshit," he snapped. "you've been avoiding me for weeks. did i do something to piss you off more than usual? because if i did, ill fix it.”

you swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. "it's nothing, don’t worry. just leave me alone, jay."

"no," he said, stepping closer. "i won't leave you alone until you tell me what's going on, y/n." he whispered.

his proximity made it hard to breathe, let alone think. the scent of his cologne, the intensity of his gaze—it was all way too much for you to bare. you could feel the walls you had so carefully built around your heart beginning to crumble.

"why do you care?" you shot back, your voice trembling anxiously. "you have minji now. go bother her for all i care!”

jay's eyes narrowed, his expression darkening with a frown. "this isn't about minji. this is about you and me. why are you avoiding me?"

"because i can't stand you! being around you!" you shouted angrily, the words bursting from you before you could stop them.

"why?" he demanded, his voice rising. "what did i do that's so bad you can't even be in the same room as me?"

you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. but the emotions that have been building inside you the past few weeks were too strong, too overwhelming. you couldn't keep them bottled up any longer.

"because i’m in love with you, okay?" you yelled, tears streaming down your face. "i love you, and it hurts to see you with somebody that’s not me..”

for a moment, there was silence. jay stared at you, his eyes wide with shock. the world seemed to stand still, the only sound the pounding of your heart in your ears, as you cursed under your breathe shutting your eyes anxiously in panic.

"you… love me?" he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

you nodded, unable to speak. the confession had left you feeling raw and vulnerable, and you didn't know what to do next.

jay's expression hardened, and without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, your heart shattered into a million pieces as you fell onto your knees and sobbed, you sobbed for your broken heart and for the loss of the relationship you had with jay- gone forever.

the next two weeks were a blur of constant pain and complete and utter embarrassment. jay ignored you completely, avoiding you at every turn. you threw yourself into your studies, trying to distract yourself from the aching heartbreak and void inside you. your friends noticed the change, but you couldn't bring yourself to explain. how could you tell them that the person you had hated for so long had become the one you loved? and even worse, broke your heart.

you saw jay and minji together more often than you would have liked. each time, it felt like a knife twisting in your heart. but you forced yourself to smile, to act like everything was fine. it was the only way you knew how to cope.

one day, while you were sitting in the campus courtyard, lost in your thoughts, someone sat down next to you. you looked up to see taehyun, one of your friends from class. his presence was a welcome distraction from the feelings inside you.

"hey," he said, patting your shoulder giving you a warm smile. "you look like you could use some company."

you smiled back, grateful for his kindness. "yeah, i guess i could."

taehyun was easy to talk to, he was kind and understanding, and before long, you found yourself laughing and joking with him. it was a relief to feel something other than pain for the first time in the last few weeks, even if it was only for a little while. he pulled you into a hug, after you had finally opened up about your situation and you let yourself relax in his embrace, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, sniffling away your tears.

unbeknownst to you, jay was watching from a distance. he had come to the courtyard to clear his head from everything, from the confusion and the dull feeling in his heart, but the sight of you with taehyun stopped him in his tracks. the way you laughed, the way you hugged him—it should have made him happy to see you smiling again after breaking your heart. but instead, it filled him with a burning jealousy and sadness.

seeing you with taehyun brought everything into sharp focus. and it suddenly hit him- he realized that he had been a fool, pushing you away when he should have been holding you close. he couldn't deny it anymore longer—he was deeply in love with you. and he couldn't stand the thought of losing you to somebody else.

jay knew what he had to do- that evening, jay broke up with minji. it was one of the hardest things he had ever done, she was a kind and sweet girl, but he knew it was the right thing. minji deserved someone who could love her- and that wasn’t him. his heart had always belonged to you.

the next day, jay found you sitting alone in the library, studying and deep in focus. he approached anxiously and cautiously, his heart feeling like it was about to explode in his chest.

"can we talk please?" he asked, his voice quiet.

you looked up, surprise and shock flickering in your eyes before looking down again. "kinda busy- what do you want, jay?"

he took a deep breath, steeling himself. "i'm sorry. for everything, y/n. i never should have ignored you. i was in denial, i was scared and confused, but that's no excuse."

you stayed silent anxiously playing with your fingers, waiting for him to continue.

"i broke up with minji," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "because i realized something that took a while for me to realize but i’m here now- i realized that i'm in love with you."

your breath caught in your throat, your heart pounding in your chest. "you… you what?”

"i'm in love with you, y/n. i’m so in love with you" he repeated, his voice breaking as his eyes shined with sincerity. "i've been in love with you for a long time, but i was too stupid to see it. and when you told me how you felt, it scared the hell out of me. i didn't know how to handle it, so i pushed you away. but i can't do that anymore."

tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at him, your heart aching with a mixture of hope and fear. "do you really mean it?" you whispered.

jay nodded, his gaze unwavering. "i mean it. i love you. and if you'll give me a chance, i promise i'll do everything i can to make it up to you, please y/n.”

you searched his eyes, looking for any sign of deception. but all you saw was honesty, a raw vulnerability that took your breath away.

"i don't know if i can trust you," you said quietly, your voice trembling. "you hurt me, jay. a lot."

"i know," he said, his voice breaking as he cups your cheek, leaning his forehead against yours. "and i'm so, so sorry. but i'll spend the rest of my life proving to you that you can trust me. i promise."

for a long moment, you stayed silent, the weight of his words sinking in. and then, slowly, you nodded. "okay," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "one chance, jay. but if you hurt me again, that's it. i'm done."

jay's face lit up with a mixture of relief and joy. he reached out, taking your hand in his, looking into your eyes for permission as you nodded with a soft grin.

jays lips feel soft against yours, you spent many nights wondering what it would be like to be like to kiss jay, and it’s even better than you could’ve imagined.

and for the first time, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, things could be different.

the weeks that followed were a whirlwind of emotions. jay was true to his word, doing everything in his power to prove himself to you. he showed up at your door with your favourite coffee order every morning, walked you to your classes with your hand in his, and spent every spare moment with you. he was attentive, kind, thoughtful, and for the first time, truly present.

your friends noticed the change in him too. they saw the way he looked at you, hearts in his eyes and the way he treated you with a newfound gentleness and adoration. it was clear to everyone that park jay was a changed man, and it was all because of you.

but there were still moments of where you were in denial, times when the past hurt you felt would come back, casting a shadow over your happiness. the moment came to you on a rainy afternoon, the weather complimenting your mood as you sat together in a quiet café. the rain pattered against the windows, creating a soothing backdrop to your conversation.

jay gave you a knowing look as he reached across the table, taking your hand in his.

"i love you," he said, his voice filled with emotion. "i know i've said it before, but i need you to know how much you mean to me. you're my everything, so get those thoughts out of your head, mmh?”

he said pulling you into a soft kiss across the table.

tears welled up in your eyes at his words. it was everything you had ever wanted to hear, but the fear still lingered, a dark cloud over your heart.

"i love you too," you whispered, your voice trembling. "but i'm scared, jay. i'm scared of getting hurt again- it was so bad.” you said as you closed your eyes with a trembling voice.

jay's grip on your hand tightened, his eyes shining with determination and love. "i know," he said. "and i will spend the rest of my life proving to you that you have nothing to fear. i will never hurt you again, i promise baby.”

time passed, and true to his word, jay continued to be the man you deserved. he was patient, understanding, and never once pressured you. he was there for you in ways he had never been before, and slowly but surely, the trust and reassurance began to appear.

one warm night, as you sat together on the same playground jay had rejected you on as kids, he pulled you into his arms, his lips brushing against your forehead.

"i can’t bare losing you," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. "you're my everything."

you looked up at him, your heart overflowing with love. "you won't," you said, your voice steady and sure. "we're in this together, you can’t get rid of me that easily."

you both threw your heads back, laughing together as the moonlight shined down on you.

and as he held you close, you knew that no matter what pain he had caused you before- you knew that your love for each other was stronger than anything else.

@won4kiss 2024

[wannabepoeticischiya]

in the wake of stars... there, we remain

Do you wish to know the horrible truth? When I close my eyes, her memory does not resurface. I cannot remember her laugh, or even tell apart her voice. All that remains is the waking thought that she was the only woman I ever loved—the only thing I ever wanted. And the Abyss took her away from me. The gods took her away from me! And all the time in the universe—all the power this world has to offer—couldn't fill the void she left behind.

ao3: in the wake of stars... there, we remain pairing: capitano x f! reader genre: angst, romance wc: 16k status: one shot art by: C50spicy

“Granny!”

“Freminet! Don’t call her that—”

A soft chuckle echoed in the closed room, halting the chastise the magician was about to bestow on his younger brother.

“It’s quite alright, Lyney. I’m sure little Freminet meant no harm.” A pair of blackened hands patted the young boys’ heads, the blue veins marring the skin contrasting with the oceans of blond threads.

Despite Freminet’s endearment of the woman, no sign of aging was visible on her youthful face. A stranger might even proclaim her as an older sister to the infamous Knave of the House of Hearth. But the only thing stopping them from doing so was the darkened skin tracing from under her left ear all the way to the horizons of her forehead.

“Can you tell us the story again? Please?” The little blond diver sat near the woman’s feet, looking up at her with big beady eyes—one which always proved difficult to refuse, even for their ‘Father’.

“Only if you promise not to call me an old lady again.” She playfully bargains with the child, although… [Name] wouldn’t really mind either way. “Now, gather around.” She ushers the children to move closer to her, for which they happily obliged.

A rhythmic song echoed in the bowels of her soul as she silently watched the children talk amongst one another, a joy she knew could only live here… in this home, in this time, with them, and nowhere else.

Once upon a time, in a kingdom under the golden sea, there lived a knight, brave, righteous, and kind as they could be. And this knight, he loved no one else but the woman who threw flowers at strangers with glee.

The citizens loved this knight, and everyone wanted to be acquainted with him. But this knight lived with no other thought than to love and be loved by me…

“Haven’t I already told you to get lost?”

Cradled under a dome of a million stars, a noble lady stood far on the far side of the balcony, gazing down with fiery eyes at the knight looking up at her from below. Threads of [h/c] swayed by the eternal gale that rounded the kingdom every after-dark, ruffling the violet and golden garments she wore oh so devotedly—a striking contrast to him who wore clothes darker than the void itself.

“Ah, well—” his voice echoes in the silence of twilight, hopeful at best, painted as desperate for the woman on the loggia.

“My answer remains the same, Captain.”

Before the Captain could raise another protest, a plea for her to reconsider, the lady peered over the balustrade, angered at his stubbornness, “No.”

She could not wrap her head around his insistence, at first finding it admirable before it morphed to be unbearable. Many times had she told him off:

‘I must refuse your proposal, my lord’

‘I’m honored, really, but I cannot accept’

‘Surely, a maiden far fairer than me would most wholeheartedly embrace your affections’.

One would think that after three rejections, he would relent.

At one point, she believed him to have raised the white flag, given that he had ceased his advancement for a full fortnight.

That is until she ran into him at the plaza one fateful afternoon. Finding him surrounded by a sea of people both of highborn and low, militia and serpent knights, harboring him affection and regard.

The shadow of her presence was enough to stop their banters, the weight of her name parting the ocean of people, and before her… was a path that led right to him.

Snapping out of the memory, she is reminded that the object of her daydreams was still perched upon the street below her awaiting an acceptance that the lady swore would never come, even if he is a knight. “Now, if you will be so kind as to step aside—”

“My lady…”

A sharp stare silenced the Commander’s tongue, forcing him to freeze where he stands, burning the remnants of his thoughts. All that remained was the echo of her voice, the light reflecting off her eyes, the presence of her soul. He wouldn’t have minded staying rooted there for the rest of the evening, shackled to that post until the end of his time, so long as she would be near. A call away, just over the wall, looking at him from the panes of her windows.

“Please move out of the way, Capitano. I have more pressing matters to attend to.”

The Commander, as if time began to march slower, saw her marching towards the archway that would lead her indoors, and before he could detain his tongue—his thoughts had run past his better judgement.

“Throwing flowers at passersby hardly seems to be of urgency.”

[Name] let out a scoff of disbelief, swiping away her hand that held the doorknob and turned to march back towards the balcony, peering down at him with all the disdain in the cosmos. The nerve of this—this… “A lot more concerning than having you propose another time when my take on the matter will not change. Now, move out of the way before I throw a pot at you.”

“But why?”

The lady looked at him cynically, was he asking in accordance with his repeated rejection or for the threat of the pot? She would be happy to indulge in the latter, but [Name] knew that the ever-righteous Captain was not one to act like a fool… yet he continued to play the jester with her.

“Are we really going over this again?” She looks at him in exasperation, internally wondering how he rose to such power when he was stubborn as a mule. “Have you forgotten where you stand? I am a lady of the house [L/n], you are a Commander for the knights. Do you really dare have me be insulted by it all? Let me remind you again: from the moment we met all those years ago, when you had so brazenly declared to me that you would take arms and fight the heavens, your conceit and selfish disdain for the feelings of others made me realize that you will be the last man I’d ever be prevailed upon to marry. And I would rather dine on the scraps of field tillers and cross the seven seas with no leverage than be courted by the likes of you. Good day.”

Capitano stared at her retreating figure, counting that as the fifth attempt to court her that month. And the overall hundredth rejection for the last five, or was it seven, years? Every time she turned down his advancements it had him motivated to do more, to be more, become better.

Because in his eyes… there was no greater blessing, no greater honor than to love her.

[Name] who offered him cakes and cookies down by the gardens all those summers ago, the one who ran down the streets to welcome him back, the little lady who pushed the swing when he sat alone by the playground. [Name] who supported his dream of knighthood, the lady who dressed his wounds, who wiped his tears, parted his lips so he could breathe.

I’d be the last man she’d ever be prevailed upon to marry… she didn’t say she’d never marry me—just that I’m her last option.

Even if the same [Name] now sneers at all things related to him and his status as a commander.

A foolish smile carved its way onto his face, eyes as deep as the depths of the ocean shining in delight at the newfound hope.

There’s still a chance!

But love didn’t come easy for the knight, no matter the ardency of his feelings, the sincerity of his soul, nor the patience in his heart. The lady simply turned a blind eye to him—

“That’s awful! Mr. Knight must be very sad.” A little girl cried while her friend tried to console her by rubbing her back, the sight tugging at the seams of [Name]’s heart.

“Indeed, how cruel the lady must have been.” She agrees gently, curling a fistful of fabric under her touch, suppressing the urge to just run outside and comb the earth to make it all right. How cowardly was I to have shunned your affection for so long…

Not long after, one of the older kids spoke her piece, “If a knight as chivalrous as him had loved me, I would never let him go, not even for all the mora in the world.”

For a few arbitrary seconds, [Name] is left at a loss for words.

Perhaps it’s the curse taking effect or maybe it’s the regret clawing from the depths of her eroding soul. Still, it remained clear that the young lady’s words were something she wished she had lived by all those centuries ago.

“Nor I.” [Name] concedes, acknowledging the boldness—the genuineness—of the child’s declaration with a look of understanding.

But no matter how we wish to change our fate, to pave a way for a better tomorrow, a waking moment where we aren’t suffocated by the crushing weight of regret—that was all they could remain as: wishes.

It didn’t matter how ardently we pray for it to be true, how earnestly we chant so we could forge it into being… because when the dust settles and the moon is at rise, only then we’ll know…

“You see, children, to speak of love is an easy task, even the most vicious of people can do it. But to wait and prove that it’s true—even when there is no guarantee of getting loved in return, that is an act of faithfulness that cannot be accomplished by everyone. It takes merely a few seconds to profess love, but doing it takes more than a lifetime. And to find someone eager to spend that time with you… is a blessing that not everyone is fortunate enough to receive.”

…that some tales are not fated for a happy ending.

The children looked at her in amazement, no matter the blights of her curse on her skin—how it can easily depict her a monster—Lady [Name] is still one of the kindest people they have ever been lucky enough to meet.

Love didn’t come in all the shades of the rainbow as the lady had hoped. Love didn’t come dressed in willingness as the knight assumed.

Perhaps, in their hearts, they knew.

Sometimes, love can come painted like a summer night: dark as it comes but scattered with a hundred million stars. Sometimes, love is cloaked in hesitance: a gentle wave by the shores dyed with the warmth of a thousand suns.

And sometimes… love appears in forms we least expect it to take.

“You turned him down? The Captain? The Commander of the Serpent Knights? The Captain?”

A young woman paced around the room, struggling to accept the story her friend told her only moments prior.

“Yes, Peruveere, I did.”

[Name] rolled her eyes at the other person’s restless mumbling, continuously taking apart the petals from the flowers. And as if sensing the follow-up questions of her inquisitive friend, [Name] quickly attached the rest of her answers not a breath later, “Yes, the Captain. Yes, the Commander of the Serpent Knights. Yes, the Captain. And yes, Il-Capitano, the ever-righteous, strong and brave, nigh-invincible Captain. I turned him down just as I had the previous time he asked, and the time before that, as well as all the other advances he had made. And I will continue to do so if he keeps insisting. It will not change.”

She tore another petal away from the stem, not sparing a single glance at the other lady currently losing her marbles over the simple matter of [Name]’s rejection of matrimony.

“But why?”

[Name] tore her eyes away from the busy streets and looked over her shoulder to her friend with a stare of utter disbelief, as though she, herself, could not wrap her head around the question directed at her. [Name] could not choose which one of her inner turmoils would best fit the situation at hand: ‘You know why’, was one, and ‘I cannot, in my wildest dreams, believe that you would really ask me that’, was another. Though it seemed that no matter the choice, it still would not be enough to convey the entirety of her plight.

“I know that look, missy.” Peruveere narrowed her cross-marked eyes at [Name], drawing lines in the air as if it would raise the stakes of an imaginary court to accuse her further. “Your thoughts are all over your face! Peruveere, you’re a fool to ask me that—a lunatic to even ask why—I question to this day why I am friends with someone as empty-headed as you.”

The obsidian of her hair shone under the golden light of the artificial sun, casting away the shadows of the locks of her hair that were colored in ivory.

“Those are your words, my friend, not mine.” [Name] smirked, crossing her arms over her chest as she turned to face the fuming lady before her. “You know me, Peruveere, nothing in this world can persuade me into matrimony. If you wish to be tied to that man so very much, why don’t you marry him instead?” she offered, smiling faintly at the prospect of having to get rid of that persistent knight.

Peruveere scoffed at the idea, waving a hand in the air as though it would scatter her friend’s ridiculous suggestions.

Soon after, her expression morphed into something far too difficult for [Name] to interpret, “One day, [Name], you will wake up with your head in your hands and realize how wrong you were, and you will wish to have done things differently. You will wish that you loved him a little earlier so you could have loved him longer. And you will hear the echoes that my foresight was correct. The way I endeavored to inform you will come into light, and after all of that is said and done, only then will I trust that my earlier warning has been understood—"

[Name] let out a sound of alarm at the near cursing her friend was speaking, now it was her turn to wave her hands in the air as though it would rid of the baleful prescience. “Stop. Stop. Stop!”

Peruveere ignored [Name]’s superstitions and instead opted to convey her thoughts on all the privileges that [Name] would possess once she is married to the Commander.

“Every noble lady in the kingdom wants to be wed to Capitano! He’s got it all, you know, titles, wealth, power, influence—” Peruveere listed off his qualities from the tips of her fingers, explaining how each one of them would be beneficial to her and what it could mean for the years to come. Peruveere droned on and on until she finished at least ten laps on both hands, and [Name]’s ears were on the verge of caving in from how many times that brooding man’s name left the lips of her friend.

“And as your bestest, greatest, most fabulous, not to mention only friend, I have to root for you! I must! You two are practically born of the same soul! And to address your previous statement, no, I will not marry him on your behalf. Capitano is not what I look for in a man, he wears too much black, his friend on the other hand, oh my Dainsleif—hey! Where are you going?”

Peruveere quickly traced the steps of her departing friend, not quite finished with listing off the reasons why [Name] should accept the Commander’s proposal.

[Name] reckons Peruveere could never understand.

She wasn’t present at the time. She wasn’t even part of [Name]’s life when it all came crashing down. So how could Peruveere understand why rejecting Capitano hurts [Name] more than it did him? Especially when he was so persistent, so dedicated, treating her feelings as though being at the receiving end of it was an honor far higher than the heavens. Especially because he does all of that.

Capitano gave it all… and it was being wasted when she could not bring herself to return it despite every inch of her soul begging her to do so.

“A place where I won’t hear another mention of that man’s name—” [Name] saw Peruveere brace herself to question and quickly snuffed it out, “—or his accomplishments, his power, his oh-so-handsome visage, or anything even remotely related to him!” [Name] yelled, sick of all the iterating questions of why when she had already been so clear of her intentions. Peruveere, mother, even my sisters… all asking the same thing, and no matter my answer, they still won’t relent.

“[Name]…”

She snapped out of her thoughts, the consequence of her action hitting her with full force as she looked at the stupefied expression on her friend’s face. “Peruveere—I… I apologize, I did not mean to—”

Peruveere caught the hand that was reaching out to her, encasing them fully in warmth as she gazed at [Name] in a kind light. “No, I should be the one to apologize, [Name]. I shouldn’t have pushed you too far. If you don’t wish to speak about him or hear of his person, then I won’t tell of him at all.”

Peruveere’s patience ate at [Name]’s heart, flooding it with guilt. Words said on a whim that hurt her friend’s heart when all she ever wanted to do was ensure that [Name] could live with someone by her side.

Perhaps Peruveere did understand. Maybe she understood far more than [Name] could have.

“If only my family was as accepting as you.” [Name] could only smile at her kindness, squeezing the hand that held hers.

The two friends laughed at the thought knowing well that the heavens would fall before the great house of [L/n] weakens their immovable resolve. [Name]’s lineage wasn’t exactly known for being one of the friendly fellows of the kingdom, with their emotionless fronts, and closely guarded connections, it proved to be difficult to even just see one of their own walking down the streets as leniently as [Name] did. Their headstrong attitudes and unrelenting tendencies to stop at nothing to get what they wanted drove any and all coming acquaintances away.

It was a miracle that [Name] even had Peruveere for this long.

“I just… don’t wish to be unhappy all my life.” [Name] admits sadly, choosing to look at the dust littered on the cobblestone path.

“What do you mean?”

The chatters of everyday life seemed to blend in with all the colors of Khaenri'ah, until all that remained was the echo of the man loved by all… and yet loved only her.

She laughs and caught Peruveere’s stare with a net of fear—frightened of the uncertainty that came with a person like Il-Capitano. “I hear what people say about him, too, you know. The ever-righteous Captain, the nigh-invincible Captain, the brave and fearless Captain.”

“All good traits, are they not?”

[Name] gave her a pained stare, “When people put him in that light, he is. Yet all the same, it paints him in a different color… like he’s so far away. Don’t you fear that someone possessing such unprecedented righteousness is a latent danger? How… how could someone like that ever truly live? Will he ever truly confide? What if I am the embodiment of all that he detests—everything he cannot accept? Could he still bring himself to love me just as he proclaims?”

“You have yet to know that, [Name].” Peruveere shook her head, trying to coax her friend out of the spiralling doubt, “It isn’t fair to put assumptions on him when you haven’t given him the chance to act on how he really feels. He loves you. For eight long years he’s proven it, practically reformed the heavens so his adoration for you could be caged by the finiteness of this world!”

[Name] denied her friend’s suggestion, finding it too farfetched to be bled into reality.

How could she bring herself to believe his sentiments to be true when the prime of his promises to her had been broken from the moment he turned his back on her that fateful night?

I want to love you, I really do… but what would become of me if I gave it all to you once more? I know it’s tiring to love—to wait. I know I’m not the only one drowning in this ocean of grief when a thousand others were subjected to the same heartache.

But why does it feel like such a sin to love you now?

I don’t know how I’ll free myself from this fear—this soul-binding fear of leaving it all behind.

“Love is an illusion, Peruveere. We believe it because we haven’t seen what’s beyond that. That just as easily as you claim it to be true, it is just as easily gone—taken away before we know it.”

Because what if I did do it—leave everything behind? And what if beyond that, you will leave me, too?

Peruveere sighed in surrender. [Name] spoke words of fear, sentiments plunged in the depths of heartache, a great many things to project hostility but they all meant one thing: come and save me—if you truly love me, take me away from here. That much she understood, it was [Name] who was blinded by her shadows who remained cloaked in ignorance.

“But he might prove you wrong if you give him a chance.”

At her words, [Name] raised her head to look at her, and Peruveere took it as a sign to continue.

“Tell him of your grievances, what makes you happy, the things that upset you. Perchance you might find him a lot more flattering than he does you. He isn’t asking you for a thousand chances [Name], just one.”

‘Can I escort you to town, my lady?’

‘May I have the next dance, Lady [Name]?’

‘Please, do me the honor of accepting my hand.’

“And what if it doesn’t work?” She whispers, feeling the tears prickle at the back of her eyes.

Peruveere smiles, caressing the hills of her cheeks, “You’d be surprised at how often it does.”

The lady found herself tracing the paths of the past. How the pillars of her fear formed the walls that guard her frail heart. Underneath the mountains of rejection, blanketed by years' worth of injustice, numbed by the unrelenting march of time, there existed a version of her… who had once loved the knight more than there were stars in the sky.

“Are you so ugly that you have to hide behind a canvas of the evening sky?”

The masked squire pivoted on his heel, nearly swatting her head off clean with the wooden practice sword.

“Whoa—hey!”

A flock of birds flew away from the volume of her voice, shaking the foliage bordering the courtyard. A gentle breeze swayed between the falling leaves, scattering a palette of white and yellow petals in their wake, painting upon the once-green lands with their hue.

Domed by the artificial Khaenri'ahn sky, a young lady and a young boy stood face to face. One with a soul as radiant as the stars in the heavens crouching down to cover her head, and another dyed in the color of the midnight sun, entranced by her abrupt advent.

As if realizing the silence left by their strange encounter, the masked boy quickly got down on one knee and struggled to find the words to say, fearful that he might be offending a prominent figure in court. “I apologize, my lady. I did not mean to endanger you in any way.”

The young woman, as though struck by the reminder of their difference in status, quickly gathered herself: pulling her figure from the ground, patting away the micro spectacle of dust that had managed to touch her expensive dress.

“Ahem.” She cleared her throat, every bit of her mannerisms hinting that she was not used to interacting in such a formal fashion—as though she was not used to interacting at all! She took a peek at his still kneeling form, not finding him the least bit familiar, he must be new. She memorized the slouch in his shoulders, the hesitation in his movements, the threads of obsidian hair protruding from under his ridiculous helmet.

“You are pardoned, please rise.”

A younger version of [Name] stood before the young boy.

“You are most kind, my lady.”

The one who would soon be known as Capitano.

The lady, curious of his reasons for hiding his face, went by the gardens to pursue an answer. Unfailingly, for three full moons and a crescent, she sought out his company. Finding even the most mundane questions of everyday life directed at him, yet the prime interest she had was not answered until the first fall of the snow.

“I hope you like the cakes. The helpers in the kitchen always seem to make far too much of it,” the young lady walked around the edge of the winter wonders, watching as the young knight trained even under the descent of the cold. “And because no one wants to share them with me, I am left to enjoy them all.”

The young knight, ever so subtly, turned his head in her direction, a small gesture to let her know that despite his straining routines he would always make room for the things she had to share.

“I’m glad to be the one who shares them with you, my lady.”

[Name] caught herself smiling at the knight, feeling as the flames stemmed from her racing heart all the way to the horizons of her fingertips, casting fire to the hills of her cheeks, the bowels of her soul—the embers in her mind.

No words followed those fleeting sentences, only the breaths of a diligent knight, and a lady brimmed with adoration. The heavens falling to witness the waltz of two souls, dancing to the melody of a tune made to bind for all eternity.

The knight ceased his practice, drawing nearer to the lady waiting by the steps.

She could have watched him from the balcony, or not at all yet here… in this place shrouded with the harshness of winter, closer to where he was—there, she stayed.

He began to wonder, when did I begin to see like this? As though all of the heavens and the earth only came into being so they could hold you. What greatness did I do… that I am worthy to behold you? That I am so fortunate to have existed in a time—a place where I could love you as much as I desired?

Driven by the intensity of his emotions, the knight turned his back and began to walk away from her.

The lady, unsure of what to make of it all, snickered under her breath. [Name] found his behavior strangely endearing, to think one of the most skilled in knighthood could have been rendered flustered just by the thoughts running in his head was something not even the greatest of alchemists could conjure.

With a small laugh, [Name] stepped a foot into the snow followed by another, slowly tracing the footprints the knight in front of her had carved into the winter treasures.

The knight, who had initially only intended to break away for a few seconds, took notice of the way his lady had started to walk upon the path he made. With a smile of his own, he began to take wider steps, knowing that she would surely start to struggle.

[Name] had to leap in her step to continue her little fun, but the added distance in the interval of his steps along with the weight of her clothes had her stumbling a few moments later.

The young knight, ever so quick in his steps, turned with swift haste, catching her in his arms before she could hit the snowy ground.

A different object, however, had fallen into the snow.

“Oh,” Her breath was painted white from the cold, yet her eyes reflected the deep blues of the irises that looked to her with such ardent affection. “You aren’t ugly.”

But stars did not shine, they burned. And just as quickly did the snow thaw, the reality of their distant worlds had dawned on them. Lightning painted the canvas of their skies, ripping it open for the rain to fall—dousing the embers of their adoration for one another.

“Please… I beg you, do not go.” An older lady clung to the cloths of a man’s armor, hugged by the artificial lights of the Khaenri'ahn sky… the two lovers held onto one another as though it was their last day on this land.

The man touched the lady’s cheeks, ridding the mar of silver water racing down the canvas of her face. “I must, my dear. It is my duty.”

The Serpent Knights have been called to defend the borders of the kingdom from the ill-will of the abyss. A duty that was promised honor, gratitude, and legacy whether they emerged victorious or not—whether they returned breathing or not at all.

[Name]’s father was a knight bestowed the rank Captain, prestige that came with the comfort of wealth, and the oath of power. But for her mother, who loved her husband dearly, all it came with was the looming danger, the never-ending saga of fearing for his life.

And even if [Name] was still beyond the sense of maturity, she could piece apart that much.

Many words were exchanged by her mother and father, promises of eternity, a love to last a thousand lifetimes and a thousand more after that, that her mother only needed to wait—wait, and surely, her husband would return to her.

Yet as selfish as it sounds, even if oaths were broken and lives were lost, her mother didn’t want her father to go.

“It is also your duty to stay by your family’s side! We need you—I… I need you.”

“But the people need me more.”

[Name] who was watching from behind a towering pillar, looked at her father in disbelief, feeling as the little crevices in her heart began to rip its surface clean. Silently coming to terms with the truth that knights and all that they were associated with will always, unfailingly, put their duty above any other.

The real world was not like the stories her father had told her. Knights do not stay with the people they love when a kingdom is in threaten for ruin… they go out there and fight for the kingdom they had sworn to protect.

Even if it cost them their lives.

Even if the price paid for a momentary tranquility is the anguish of a broken heart, a wife’s grief for the loss of a husband, a daughter’s heart shattered to a million irreparable pieces at the loss of a father, a family torn apart so another could live completely.

And as if the universe wanted to play, [Name] found herself looking into the abyssal canvas of his face on the far side of the courtyard, almost as if she was asking him the same request as her mother did to her father.

‘Don’t go…’

But she knew that this righteous knight, the ever so brave recruit, the nigh-invincible young Capitano was the same as her honorable father.

Even if the price paid for a momentary equanimity was the silence of a lover, the heartache of a soul left alone in the world, a heart once entrusted to the hands of those who had sworn never to break it, shattered by the same hands.

Because that was the price you paid for loving a knight.

The weight of the years numbed the pain, and the tears had blurred the memories. Yet all the same, it proved that no matter how deep the valley that severed their ties, it could not hide the lingering affection littering the oceans of their skies.

"Oh, Il-Capitano~ Commander of the Royal Army."

“We have most patiently awaited your safe return.”

“What an honor it is to have someone like you in the kingdom’s service.”

Nobilities and common people alike gushed at the arrival of the esteemed commander. One enshrouded in the colors of the night, with what looked like the heaviest coat in all of mankind draped over his shoulders.

He marched through the gates of the kingdom perched atop his tall, midnight steed. And as if feeling her drilling stare, that faceless helmet turned to gaze in her direction. A simple gesture, one which a stranger could have passed as nothing but a meaningless movement, but to [Name]… she knew, that it meant more to the knight than the praises sung at his name.

Perhaps it was a trick of the light, or the sadness clawing its way out of her soul. [Name] would have taken any other explanation, any other reason, so long as it wasn’t the one forcing its way through her throat.

For a fleeting second, everything had crumbled away. In the place of that tall, imposing, broad-shouldered knight was a younger boy, one whose eyes looked far too hesitant to urge the stallion forward, his form was slouched, often kneeling before her, he who had promised the world.

Yet when she blinked, both figures were gone, one buried under the weight of time, and the other marching forward, once again turning his back on her.

No longer a young, naïve, lovestruck squire but a revered commander, righteous, brave, and powerful.

Rumors in the plaza spoke about how the Commander never smiled, or that there was nothing in his life other than his duty and the endless battles against the abyss. But the conversation that sparked about the most was the mystery behind his mask.

Others spoke that his face had been scarred by his countless conquests that he had no choice but to hide it from his enemies, while some say that he was born unfortunate in the department of looks therefore forcing him to wear such a thing to shield his deformed face from the eyes of the public.

But [Name] knew otherwise.

“Isn’t this exciting, [Name]?” Her friend, Peruveere, looks to her with eager eyes.

The young lady was a descendant of the previous dynasty, named Crimson Moon. Peruveere was the one who had so boldly claimed to be her friend after [Name] had thrown a fistful of flowers at her by accident.

[Name] shrugged and pretended to be indifferent to it all, forcing herself to look away as she felt his stares burn holes into her very being. "Eh, I've fallen witness to better."

That was a lie, of course.

The only one that could ever hope to best him in anything was himself, and [Name] was sure that the ever so charming Il-Capitano, Commander of the Royal Army, knew that for himself. But [Name] would rather eat all the snow in her courtyard than have to admit that to his face or anyone for that matter.

"The cats loitering the streets would hiss at you for saying that. Even they admire Capitano." Peruveere shook [Name] back and forth as she eagerly watched as the fleet of soldiers march back to the palace grounds.

[Name] tried to ignore the incessant beatings of her heart at the mention of his name. One which she hasn’t spoken in a long, long while.

"He looks far more miserable since the last I saw him." She unconsciously whispers, tracing the outlines of his shadows until his figure is nothing but a speck in the far-off distance.

Then again, how long has it been since I last saw you? Certainly not long enough!

"Perhaps it's because you keep declining him." Peruveere perks, smiling pointedly at [Name] who was still looking in the direction of the castle.

The lady let out a bitter chuckle, of course, I’d never marry him!

Capitano returned to her all those moons ago, nearly after three years, he returned.

But by then, her heart had come to realize the weight of his promises. That next to his duties, they meant absolutely nothing.

"Oh, woe. His poor soul." She emptily comments, finally tearing her gaze away from the reminder of his broken oaths.

"Please, [Name]. Miserable, yes. But poor he most certainly is not." Peruveere hooks an arm with [Name] and dragged her to descend the steps of her balcony.

"Do tell, Peruveere." [Name] rolls her eyes at her friend's antics, with half a mind listening to her ramble on and on about the oh-so-amazing Capitano, as they walked the now-empty streets to the plaza.

"All that power and wealth to his name and he commands half the Royal Army." Peruveere boasts as though speaking about that man made his achievements hers as well.

She really does hold that… man in high regard.

"The miserable half?" [Name] jests, leaving a fuming noble lady on the side of the street.

And so, tired of the longing glances and hearing the rhythm of two souls crying for one another, the heavens had moved to have it ceased…

Far into the depths of the night, when the trees slept and the lands were blanketed in silence, [Name] found herself standing by the steps that led to a courtyard.

Although this time, the space before her was covered with blades of grass and blossoming flora, the breeze was not sharp but rather a gentle lull in the ever-growing warmth of the season—a great contrast to a time when this place was riddled with cold, covered in his footsteps, thriving in the words he had no intention of keeping.

‘My lady,’ he whispers, drawing nearer to her. Close enough that his breath tangled with hers as the warmth of his hand draped over the hills of her reddened cheeks. ‘My heart calls your name, unfailingly, every night. My soul desires to see you—far too much that it has my gaze lingering in everything that reminds me of you. Each day, this feeling in me grows and I fear that the skies can no longer house them.’

‘I love you, [Name]… most ardently, please allow me the honor of staying by your side—’

“[Name].”

The sudden call broke the young lady from her daydreams. She turned hastily to meet the tired eyes looking straight at her.

“Mother.”

With the golden light of the chandelier seeping past the windowpanes, the scenery before her nearly resembled a painting of the heavens… except, the subject’s face was dyed in colors of loneliness—her mother’s heart died along with her father many, many years ago.

“You have a visitor.” She states plainly before tracing back her steps to enter the house once again.

[Name] furrowed her brows in confusion at who could be visiting her at this ungodly hour. Surely, Peruveere was sound asleep by now, and even if she wasn’t, her mother would never go as far as tell [Name] of her presence when she was already known by her entire family—she’s my only friend, it would be strange for them to do so.

As she stormed her brain for any other acquaintances who might be brave enough to knock on the gates of her home, the sounds of heavy footfalls and the clinking of metal chains flew past her ears.

Until a large body loomed over her fretting figure.

Even if she dared not to look, the stranger’s shadow—all broad-shouldered and imposing—already told her enough that this was no acquaintance.

Are you starving for another rejection? You really are thick-faced…

“Commander.” She greets coldly, curtsying for the sake of formality, rising once more to bravely look at the nothingness that shielded his face.

For a moment, Capitano did not know what to say, rendered speechless by the weight of reality that she really was standing in front of him. No longer crowds apart, no wall stopping him from seeing her, no meddling audience.

Just him and her, at last.

“You look well, my lady.” He smiles, although it was quickly wiped away by the steely expression still plastered on her face as well as the realization that she could not see him.

“I have no interest in making small talk with you, Commander.” [Name] looks away, turning her attention to any other thing that wasn’t the darkness in the place of his visage. “Speak of what you want and be done with it.”

A faint click resounded in the silent atmosphere followed by a small sound of something hitting the earth. Capitano decides then, that if [Name] was going to drive him away no matter his intentions, it was best to just be honest and let all this tangled mess unravel thread by thread, even if it cut and strangled him in the process.

“Your mother… desires our union.”

[Name] spun on her heels at the imprudent claim, raising a finger to point at him daringly, “By that you mean—you desire this union.”

The now unmasked knight gently shook his head in denial, taking a small piece of parchment from the insides of his cloak, one which was sealed in the sigil of her house.

In a hurried panic, the noble lady swiped the paper from his hand, and every bit of him burned at the faintest graze of her touch.

With unbattered patience, Capitano watched as her eyes traced the ink that was bled onto the paper. He was over the stars, yes, but above all else, he wanted to know… if she wished for this to come into reality.

“You schemed this.” [Name] looks to him in disbelief, a line of silver brimming the horizons of her eyes. She clutched the paper so tightly that the mountains of her knuckles had been painted white, and the parchment had nothing left to do but rip apart at the center from the intensity of her hold.

Capitano awaited her to draw nearer, pressing his lips together before he whispered, “I did not.”

“You did.” She insisted, stopping in her trails once she was close enough to look him straight in the eye. “Because why now, out of the many times I have been suave by some nobleman did my mother finally agree? To you, no less. And I mean that in every possible offense.”

His ocean eyes searched the contours of her face for any hints of remorse, traces of hesitation, creases of consideration—even the littlest of faults, he would have accepted. If she was hiding them, her true emotions, even just a speck of the love he once held in the palm of his hands, then he must let her know that she was doing a splendid job.

“Why do you detest me so?” He asks softly, unconsciously raising a hand to caress her face but before he could, [Name] had already turned away.

The lady let out a loud scoff and began to walk away from him, blatantly avoiding his questioning gaze.

Unable to hide his frustration, the knight gambled his chances. "Tell me then, that I am not wanted."

[Name] halted in her steps, still looking in the direction of the bordering trees. Desperately ignoring the echoes of a treasured memory formed once upon a time in the same place she stood upon now.

“Leave, Commander.” She says, in a tone so bitter she could almost taste it.

“Look me in the eye, My Lady.” He urges demandingly, softly— “Step forth and tell me that you no longer want me. Scream at me. Command me to step aside, show me that I am the last man in this world you could ever want to marry. Then, my heart is yours to break.”

Capitano was not one to relent, choosing to close the distance between them in a few calculated steps, standing in front of her way.

“Tell me, what I did to have warranted your aggression. I will make it right, and I swear to you that I will do no such thing to tarnish your honor or be the center of your unhappiness.”

And after many, many years, [Name] finally gathered the courage she stacked upon one another and looked him in the eyes. That same pair of irises, dyed in the colors of the ocean that haunted her every waking moment.

“You Serpent Knights and your promises. Cease them already! You know you will break them sooner or later—you always do, unfailingly. And you always will.” She seethes, hitting his chest as if doing so would make the pain in hers hurt less.

“I will not.” He counters, raising his arms to wrap around her frame.

“You will. Don’t lie to me!”

“I won’t, and I would never.”

[Name] clutched a fistful of his clothing, pulling him closer to her—far too near that one push would have his lips grazing hers. 

“Alright then, swear to me right now that you—that you will not die. That when we are wed, you will return to me no matter what—there will stand no mountain, no ocean, nor lifetimes between you and me. Swear it. Say it to me right now.”

Capitano stares at her silence, long gone was the frail young lady who adored pastries. Her eyes shone in a vibrant light, the walls around her heart falling brick by brick to allow him the honor of gazing at the years of anguish she had endured by his single mistake, the passion in her eyes burning straight through his will to speak. This was the most she had ever spoken to him.

“I… ” He whispers, desperately fighting off the urge to just draw nearer and end this agony. I love you.

“You can’t.”

[Name] laughs bitterly, freeing her hold on him and walking past his figure.

No matter the years that passed him by, Il-Capitano remains the same righteous, brave, and powerful Serpent Knight. [Name] was not about to succumb to the shackles of matrimony with the inkling thought that she be a widow once the threat of war arose. She will not go down a sinking boat. Be married to a dying man.

“That’s a big promise.” Capitano swallows the lump in his throat as he watches her walk about the garden, ever so close to walking away completely. And he had this inkling thought, if she were to leave his sight right now, he would never see her again.

‘You’re drawing the shorter end of the stick with me,’ those were her words all those years ago, when his attempts were nothing but a flickering flame. Naïve, in the kindest words; half meant, in the worst.

Still, the way she had so kindly given him a choice on the matter had him steel his resolve. How easy it must have been for her to say no, tell him off—that she wishes to never see his face again, be near his soul, or be reminded of his existence—but she didn’t.

Even if it slipped her thoughts, what she gave him all those moments ago… was a chance.

One chance. One take. One moment to make it all right.

And all of the heavens will be damned if he did not take it.

Capitano did not speak of love to her, rather he showed it with every atom of his being. In every breath he took, all the gazes he sent her way, in his lingering but persistent affection. There, right along with him… his love had existed.

[Name] remains in silence, trying to suppress the trembling of her voice. He was not one to relent, not then… and most certainly not now.

It was useless trying to get soldiers to choose their personal attachments over the good of the many. That’s why I dearly detest them. Why allow yourself to love, to make home in the heart of another… only to leave and never return?  

Capitano waited for her, even when there was no guarantee that she could love him in return.

If she would have him, he would have all the eternities to tell her he loves her.

But here, when she is not so accepting of him, he would not do it.

‘I would rather live my days as the most unfortunate man to ever come into being than to live a life where you do not know that I love you.’

And his sentiments had sought him in his every waking moment.

“But for you, anything.”

[Name]’s world came to a standstill.

Every star nestled in the depths of the cosmos had ceased their dance. Blackholes frozen mid-spin. Nebulas that scattered like clouds lulling at the echo of his words. It drifted from galaxy to galaxy, in different timelines, in every version of existence.

"I would have seized the stars for you if you asked." He continues, taking step after step to close the distance between them, a silent promise that once she allows him to be near—a place in her life where he could stay, he would never leave.

Capitano could never have fathomed the gravity of those words, pulling every world she built, the doubts, the longing, every molecule of eagerness... they collided, spun, condensed, and burst forth to resound his words for all the eternities to come.

"The stars?" She echoes.

Everything began spinning fast—too fast. The colors around her merged, blurring her surroundings until all she could see was him. 

"Taken every single one of them." He affirms, tucking a stray lock behind her ear. "I would tally the heartbeats of every single thing that has ever lived on this planet, count the grain of sands in the deserts, drain the oceans, freeze the skies—you will only ever need to ask… and I will make it so. This is how much I would love you, if you will have me. You only ever need to say one word. Speak my name, and I am yours... from now until you are sick of me, 'til the last of the embers burn out into oblivion, until life ceases to exist—even beyond the destruction of nothingness—I am yours."

She allowed him to cross the distance between them. Not raising a hand in protest when the expanse of his palm had covered the plains of her cheeks.

She didn’t utter a single rejection when he touched her forehead with his, not even when his nose brushed against hers.

"In your acceptance, and in your denial... I am yours. In death and life. In the wake of destruction and reform. In this soul—before and beyond. Yours... and no one else's."

She didn’t do anything, even when the softness of his lips had descended on the meadows of her hairline.

Capitano, her memory reminded. Oh, but how could she ever forget? Not when he was looking at her like that—like one word from her would send him to paradise. She should be the one looking at him like that.

Because as it stands, [Name] was already there—in paradise—as though his soul was the shadow that guards her everyday life, the scent of flowers that follows her like daylight… the love that soothes her heart, every time he was away.

And so, the woman set her heart free and granted the knight a chance.

The lady and the knight loved with a love that was more than love.

Affection that was far from perfect, but they were made perfect for each other.

And so… love was made perfect for us.

The sound of waves crashing against the rocky mountains filled their hearts with ease. Nothing but the serene symphonies of nature pooling within the depths of their ears.

A thousand wonders brought by autumn descended from the trees, now looking as if they were reaching for the vast, multi-painted sky above. The breeze carried the leaves dyed in shades of vermillion and gold, scattering them across the earth.

The lady’s sudden laugh broke apart the peaceful atmosphere, making his heart tremble in delight as his head ever so slightly looked to her direction.

The way the late afternoon breeze danced with the threads on her head, eyes reflecting that of the sun which sat on the hands of the seemingly never-ending ocean. Her face that looked as if a painter spilled a bucket of orange dye on it.

His deep-colored irises stared at her with wonder.

And Capitano thought to himself, how could anyone… be as lovely as her?

Feeling his gaze fall upon her, the lady tilted her head in confusion, a small yet playful smile resting upon her lips. "What are you looking at, man?"

Raising his bare hand, the knight gently rested it on her cheek, leaning in to touch her forehead with his before momentarily closing his eyes only to open them and whisper...

"I'm looking at you, woman."

The lady wondered then how she could have endured denying the knight for so long when the light of his love was something she now no longer knew how to live without. She asks the heavens for answers, and sometimes even herself if the reason she was born long ago was so she could live in this plane of existence… and be loved by him.

The day the heavens bestowed upon the land a gift so majestic and wonderful that the earth has marveled upon it ever since its descent from the gentle hands of the clouds was beginning to dawn upon them once more.

At least... to the knight who loved her dearly, it was his interpretation of the special occasion. Her birthday. He was always so dramatic, that one.

His ocean-dyed eyes stared lovingly at the lady who stood not too far from where he was currently leaning against the threshold,

The knight observed the woman from a distance. His heart free from wickedness.

Ever righteous, they spoke of him. But with her, Capitano was certain he would do unspeakable things to those who dared bring her harm. Brave, still… he feared her denial—that a day will come when she realizes she did not want him anymore. Powerful, so why did he feel no power when he stood next to her?

Why was he anything but their depictions when she was the one standing in front of him? [Name] could have seen him as anything… yet she chose to see him as he was, as Capitano. No more, and certainly no bit less.

He loved her so, even more than his own life. And his affection for her flourished like fresh spring flowers each and every single passing day.

There was just absolutely nothing about her that he couldn't adore. The little things like how she would swivel and sway with the leaves when she danced with the melody of the breeze, exclaiming that the years of arduous dance practices had finally been put to good use, or when she would hum a tune when the silence was too heavy to bear.

To the knight, everything she did represented grace and beauty in a different light. She was simply just... heavenly.

When the light of the crescent moon penetrated through the curtain of clouds, the knight knew that the awaited day has been gifted to both him and to the woman he loved.

The gentle rhythm of waves crashing against the shoreline filled the silence left by the cold evening.

As quiet and light as a feather, he approached her, draping a shawl over her shoulders before sitting right next to her on the bench.

The woman was not the least bit startled by her lover's stealthy advance, far used to it more than she would have liked to admit. In the place of caution was peace; his presence helped calm whatever disaster was brewing up within her.

And ever so subtly, his warm fingers interlaced with her own. The little touches had flames burning at the tips of their fingers, crawling their way to the caves of their hearts, bursting forth to drape them in a blanket of fiery warmth.

"My dear, the moon is beautiful, isn’t it?" The woman's gaze turned towards her lover the moment his endearment left his lips—a far wanted term than the ever-so-formal my lady.

"Indeed, it is..." A gentle smile replaced the previous dazed expression that had been painted upon her face.

Nothing more was said within the next few passing moments. No words in all the letters of the worlds could describe the way their souls seemed to long for the other's presence.

"Thank you, my love." She spoke in a gentle whisper, leaning her head to rest on the expanse of his shoulder.

The midnight-eyed knight craned his head to face the lady who was still staring at the moon, admiring the way the lights above reflected the colors of her face.

"What for?" He questioned, unconsciously rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb.

She gave his hand a subtle embrace of her own, smiling at him with such gentleness that he was afraid she'd break at the lightest of caresses. "For staying..."

For remaining by my side even if there was nothing for you but denial. For your persistence. For your affection. For everything and anything all at once. That you’ve loved me even if I was the least deserving of it. Because you didn’t surrender.

You had so many chances to give it all up—so many reasons to grow weary and leave, but you didn’t. You found reasons to stay.

Caught off guard, the knight could only stare at her. An unexplainable blend of emotions swirling within the pools of blue that tinted his irises.

I’m happy to be at the end of your adoration.

He chuckled at her sentimental declaration, indeed... everything she did was absolutely breathtaking.

"Come." He urged, tugging at their entangled limbs, prompting her to rise to her feet.

"Alright, alright..." she laughs, "so impatient."

And with the flick of his wrist, Capitano interlocked their hands once more. His bare hand found anchor on her waist, pulling her closer to him.

Resting his forehead against hers, he swayed her to a melody that was nothing but silence for the rest of the world and yet a string of sounds of the most wonderful tunes for the two of them.

Indeed, love does work in mysterious ways.

The commander unhooked his hands from hers, circling one around her back, while the other carded the threads settled upon her head.

"Happy birthday to you, my love." He whispers, his featherlight breath tickling the shell of her ear. "Make a wish."

Just as how he embraced her with utmost respect and adoration, she did the same for him: hugging him tighter as she muttered the words that made his heart almost leap out of his chest.

"Be mine."

Capitano tucked away the stubborn lock of hair behind her ear, gazing deeply into the depths of her irises, memorizing the lines etched on her pupils, the way her lashes would graze her cheeks in the stray moments where she blinked. I’m in love with you. He hung those reminders of her like stars, formed constellations in her glory so that he may be reminded that no matter where he went… a place exists—a time existed—where she and he lived under the same moon.

"Already yours."

But the angels, not half so happy in the stars, envied the love of the knight and the lady. And that was the reason as all men knew, had them move everything to have their love ceased…

Magnificent, that was what he was.

Rain clouds blotted the vast sky, casting shadows upon the face of the lady who stood by the loggia. Her feet freezing her to where she stood as her eyes settled on the dark gloom ahead. The once gentle gale of the season had turned sharp, as though they carried shards of broken glass along with their escape. She listened intently to the whispers of the people, carried by the trees who had lived long enough to tell the tale of a dynasty made strong by human hands.

Her vision, though still a bit hazy, had begun merging the two-layered images that had played out in front of her: the sun that was nearing the end of its time of the day—little twinkling dots that had scattered across the palette of colors that painted the sky, and him, the anchor amidst this hell-bound storm.

His words flew from one ear and out the other, all she saw was the crumbling castle, pillars that held every brick and structure made strong by humans be submerged into the depths of the waters below.

What a terrifying sight indeed, such treasures kept hidden from the cruelty of this world.

And ever so softly did she feel a gentle tug on her hand, a small affectionate gesture that had urged her to move forward in order to match the pace of the one in front of her. Slowly but surely, her sight had focused on a man whose back was turned against her, the gentle yet impactful approach of the frost wiping away the footprints he had imprinted as he had continued to lead her to his desired destination.

Up on that hill stood a tall gateway, towering pillars of nothingness standing on either side.

Embers descended from the sky like the first fall of snow, and the flames of the heavens shone brightly as though they were stars.

His feet carried him from the bloodied pavement and onto the grassy ground that had covered the small hill.

“Go.” He whispers, pushing her towards her escape.

It felt cruel to do this to her—to [Name]. To ask the only woman he loved… to let him go.

Their laughter resonated within the empty atmosphere of that scenery. Her smile, so bright it put even the setting sun to shame. But now, only the thought of reality remained, crushing them from its weight.

“No.” [Name] shook her head, latching onto his bloodied sleeve, preventing him from marching back to all that desolation. “Don’t go, please. I beg you… don’t—Capitano, please.” [Name] fell to her knees, the seams of her clothing dyed in the hue of life that stained his shoes.

“[Name]…” His hands blanketed hers, gently—desperately trying to pry her grip open.

“No. No, no… you—you swore to me. You promised me. You gave me your word.”

Her ears struggled to process what her Knight was saying. Everything sounded as if she was submerged in water and yet her eyes could see the knight tense and stagger as he fought to keep his own morals for her survival.

Capitano knelt before her, discarding the veil he put upon his head, just as he once did all those moons ago.

He knelt beside her and caged her face between his hands. Capitano took it all in, everything. From the way the threads laid upon her head shone under what little luminescence embraced them, her ears that pointed a little too sharply, the little dots that littered her skin, her eyes brimmed with silver, the rivers of water that raced down her rose-dyed cheeks, the tremble of her lips, ones that he had never got to taste—and he never will. He seized them all, plucked them one by one, and hung them like stars. He engraved them all in his darkened sky—swore to heaven and earth that he would look to them every night... because after this moment, he knew he would never see them again. “And I intend to keep it.”

Finally, as twilight settled upon the two lovers, the knight turned and faced the woman he loved so dearly—for the last time, the last time in a good long while.

"Wait for me, my love. Wait for me, and I'll come back to you."

Even with her silver-brimmed gaze, the magnificently terrifying sight of a giant wall frosting into creation had slowly seeped into the crevices of her being, serving as the cold that froze her heart.

Through the tears, she stared at his unmoving figure. This time, Capitano was facing the enemy.

“I hear what people say about him, too, you know. The ever-righteous Captain, the nigh-invincible Captain, the brave and fearless Captain.”

“All good traits, are they not?”

Il-Capitano.

“When people put him in that light, he is. Yet all the same, it paints him in a different color… like he’s so far away. Don’t you fear that someone possessing such unprecedented righteousness is a latent danger? How… how could someone like that ever truly live? Will he ever truly confide? What if I am the embodiment of all that he detests—everything he cannot accept? Could he still bring himself to love me just as he proclaims?”

The ever so righteous commander, the brave and fearless captain, the powerful captain.

“You have yet to know that, [Name]. It isn’t fair to put assumptions on him when you haven’t given him the chance to act on how he really feels. He loves you. For eight long years he’s proven it, practically reformed the heavens so his adoration for you could be caged by the finiteness of this world!”

But to her, he was simply just Capitano.

The commander she loved.

“I hope you like the cakes. The helpers in the kitchen always seem to make far too much of it, and because no one wants to share them with me, I am left to enjoy them all.”

“I’m glad to be the one who shares them with you, my lady.”

The kind and affectionate captain. My one love… Capitano.

“I love you.” She whispers to the wind.

It dawns on her then, that she never really said those to him. Capitano told it to her through a hundred thousand different actions yet she—she had never told him. Not even once.

“I love you…”

And now…

[Name] didn't fear if another war was to come, nor did she fear that he would turn his back on her and cast her away again—no.

What caused her heartbreak was the certainty that after this... nothing would follow.

She would be stuck in stagnancy; in an endless cycle of trying to figure out what she could've done better. How she could have changed his fate, free him from the holds of death. Wondering that if she did things differently then things wouldn't end up like this—that she wouldn't have to be forced to see him leave… when she wasn’t ready to let him go.

I just got you… don’t—don’t leave me so soon. Please…

Deep down, no matter how much she tried to deny, [Name] knew what would come once she opens her eyes.

“… thank you for the adventure.”

To my Captain—darling, dearest, dead.

   Many suns have risen. The lands are riddled with ruins of dynasties who once thought they would last for eternity. And the gods have been replaced… yet here, I remain. In this desolation, in the midst of destruction, cradled under a hundred thousand lights, I linger.

   The echo of your laughter haunts me—even if more than half a millennium has dawned. I have seen more than a myriad of faces, descendants of those who once believed they would parent no children… and every time I do, I am reminded of you.

   Of your ardent affection, and bold declarations. Your promises of eternity, and the dedication that came along with it—yet you were the first to fall, the first to stand against the ones who threatened our home.

   Your love will see me in forever. Just as you had sworn. You, however, will not.

   My Captain… my love, my darling… my dearest.

   When we crossed paths, my life began. As though the once monochromatic mundaneness of my every waking moment was dyed in thousands of shades of color by your dark, and brooding figure. I told you, didn’t I? That when I pictured my life beyond it all, it would not be with you. I spoke the words, ‘I would prefer to eat the remains of field tillers than be courted by the likes of you’, still, you did not relent. I once had thought that you were a madman, choosing me out of everyone else—when you could have had anyone, yet you declared your love was mine to hold. I told you that you were getting the short end of the stick with me… and you said the words, ‘I’d rather live as the most unfortunate man for all my days than to live a life where I cannot love you’. So dramatic, that you are. If you weren’t a commander, you could pass as an actor.

   Sometimes, love came as simple as staring at the moon—but sometimes, it was as arduous as forcing the heavens to align. Still, I loved doing both for you.

   My life began the moment you made yourself known to me. My Captain, my dearest… my one true love.

   I once had thought that the hardest thing in life was to find someone you couldn’t live without… but now it seems that it’s harder to live life without him—without you.

   My life began with you, so why is it that before long, yours had ended…?

   Your love was my haven, a paradise in this space riddled with chaos—comfort in a place destined to ruin.

   Oh, but how quickly did it all crumble. How hasty sunshine leaves when the rain clouds loom. And how the heavens cry when life is devoid of meaning… devoid of you.

   What would the gods ask me to do? Who will the abyss have me become? What more do I have to surrender to have you return to me?

   Tell me, and I’ll do it. I’d reform the universe if I must. I’ll make it so, if they would grant me another chance. Another life. Another universe. A next time—next life… to have even just a few more seconds with you. To have you tell me that you’ll be leaving—so I’ll be able to let you know… if I’m ready to let you go.

   But if fate is kind, if destiny permits, and you find the chance to come home to me—I’ll cherish our mortality, no matter how fleeting. Even if you return with a face blanketed in shadows, memories as fragmented as the skies above, a body crumbling from the cruelty of time... I would still know you. Your soul sings of love in gentle lullabies, whispers as warm as sun-kissed fire, tethered with hopes for another morrow. I would know you. Even if I am caged by darkness, drowned in silence, slipping from the threads of life… I will know you.

   And I will love you. I will love you all the same.

   My Captain. My darling… my love.

   In this space, in this life, how very fortunate was I to have loved and have been loved by you.

---

Domed by an endless blue sky, children of all ages slumbered for the welkin to shine upon. Stars drifted amidst the ether, sending all that lay within its path with promises of a home that differed in shape and size. Melodies of the late summer breeze echoed throughout the home of the hearth, swaying the curtains to the rhythm that it carried along.

[E/c] irises reflected all the hues the heavens had to offer, light that had traversed the bowels and lengths of the cosmos reached the ends of its journey when they drowned in the depths of her forlorn gaze.

“Thank you for accompanying the children, Lady [Name].”

Walking between the borders of dreams and reality, the Khaenri'ahn woman’s dazed figure snapped back to the present: eyes darting back and forth, left and right, desperately trying to search for the voice that rattled her solitude.

She has seen that face countless times, Arlecchino. The Knave. Wolf in sheep’s clothing, they call her. But to [Name], Arlecchino has always been kind. A little on the intimidating side yet remained kind either way.

Arlecchino was the one who took her from the Doctor’s hold and gave her a place to call home. She gave a stranger food and clothing, accepted her and let her be near the children.

Perhaps it’s that kindness that had her vision altering to picture someone else. The one who shares the same blood as that of a soul she knew so long ago.

It felt surreal—as though she was still stuck in that nightmare.

“[Name]…” A small voice called her from the side, before long, cold fingers clutched the hem of her sleeves.

The young woman turned her gaze to her friend, Peruveere. Her cross-marked eyes glistened with unshed tears, hands trembling from the weight of fear blossoming in her heart.

[Name] felt her heart drop at the vision before her. Blood stained her friend’s clothing, falling so freely down the concrete flooring. Part of her face had begun to be caged in frost, blinding her completely—yet she remained hesitant to freeze the one standing before her.

Fragments of her sanity had been lost… still, her heart remembered that the one in front of her was someone she would always love—even as the darkness threatened to swallow her whole.

Before [Name] could support the bleeding lady, a deafening sound shattered the earth, shaking the buildings, and marring the ground in deep valleys.

Peruveere looks to [Name]—an action she was surely going to miss, to see her beloved friend, her only friend, before the world ends—because she knew, seeing her won’t happen again for a long time.

What a great adventure it was… to have been friends with you. To be near close as sisters. Even when I was cast away by the rest, you remained. Even when you had nothing to gain from me, you remained.

“Run.” Peruveere gave her hand one last squeeze before she pushed her out of the balcony.

If fate allows, and destiny is kind… would you meet me in another life? Can I be born again… and take walks with you around the plaza? Throw flowers at strangers in another life? Talk behind other people’s backs in another life? Can we be friends again… in another life?

Can I have another chance… in another time… in another universe….

In another universe, in another time, another chance…

Lightning struck the place where [Name] once stood, then a blood-curling scream followed—Peruveere.

In the place of her ivory hair was a faceless entity, shrouded in obsidian and the colors of the sky. The hands that had once held hers so kindly had been covered by blades, claws in the place of fingers, a danger in the place of comfort.

“[NAME]!”

Thunder echoed in the skies, lightning broke apart the heavens, carving a way for the creatures of the abyss to swarm her home.

The woman had no strength to rise from where she had fallen, her eyes staring in shock at the way a wall of ice grew from the ground up—shielding her from the creature that overtook her friend.

Her only friend Peruveere…

Before long, the lady found herself looking into the void of someone’s face. Capitano.

Ringing in the depths of her eardrums was a rhythmic echo of stone crashing against the ground.

“My love.” She breathes, staring at him with hazed eyes as she looks to him and back over at the wall of frost. “Peruveere—something… I—I don’t—what is going on—she’s still out there, oh god—Peruveere.”

“[Name]—” Capitano caged her trembling hands in his, trying his best to rid of the blood that drenched the pads of her fingers.

“I—I’m never going to see her again.” She cries, gripping the hands that held her so tenderly. “She was my best friend, and I didn’t—I didn’t even hug her. I never even got to tell her that she was right. I’ll never get to tell her anything ever again—”

“—[e]? —[Name]? Lady [Name]?” The calls gradually faded into a dull echo, one tune called to her in a familiar way, warm, and kind… and the other was cold, and distant—the one that bled into reality.

[Name]’s search ended when she met a familiar cross-pupiled stare. A small, sorrowful smile carved its way onto her face.

“Ah, Peruveere… how nice of you to come back to life. Have you come to gloat on me and tell me of your fated premonitions.”

The Knave, far from the one called Peruveere, patiently corrected the immortal woman. “I apologize my lady, but I am not the person you speak of.”

Ah, I knew that.

“Oh. Are you certain? You look just like her, except your tongue is on a leash.” [Name] laughs softly, “Perhaps it’s better. I wouldn’t know if that fool could have stomached living for so long…”

More than anyone I know…

“Why is that?”

[Name] looks to Arlecchino with a playful smile, “Ah, are you sure you aren’t her? She used to ask me that countless of times. Always with the whys.” She laughs, caressing the side of her abyss-tainted face.

“I’ll tell you just this once, so listen closely… because she would have gone mad with grief—existing when all that she loves has gone.” She whispers softly, fighting back the tremble in her voice. No, she couldn’t burden this descendant with the memories of a friend lost in time.

But she took one look at her, the one they call Peruere, yet all she could see were the fragments of the one she called Peruveere.

If this was her way of telling [Name] the ‘I told you so’, she would take it.

Peruveere could gloat and gush and ramble on and on about the Knights of the Khaenri'ah and [Name] would be sure to listen.

“Though it would be nice to have walks with her again. And talk behind other people’s backs… throw flowers at pedestrians.”

They could take the longest way home, pick the food that would take hours to finish, watch the longest play at the theatre—anything, if it meant I’d get to be with you longer.

Arlecchino drew closer to where the Khaenri'ahn woman sat, shutting the windows close. “Maybe another time, my lady.” She offers kindly.

[Name] looks to the Harbinger with a small flickering hope. “Yes… another time, I’m afraid there exists no such thing as that for her.”

Her words had the white-haired woman stop in her wake, ‘I see’. “Then, perhaps, in another life.”

[Name] laughs bitterly, a droplet of stars falling from the eroding side of her face, “Another life… huh?”

"Can't you see?” She whispers, “That doesn’t exist. Not for me, or Peruveere. Not even for him who so valiantly declared his promises. There is no next time! There's no next life! There is no other universe. It's a nice sentiment, believe me, it is, but this is it. This is all we get. But god… what I wouldn't give to have a next time. A next life. To be given just another chance."

Another chance, and I’ll be true. Another life, and I’ll do you better. Another time, and I won’t waste a single second. Another universe… and I’ll love you right—far more than I could have here. Perhaps there, you can keep your vows, fulfill the promise you gave me.

I am here, my love… I’m still waiting.

I have faced many losing battles, the loss of my father, my dream, my heart shattered beyond repair. But in all of that, I had you. I had you and it was enough—enough for me to gather all my broken pieces and hope for another day.

Everything would be alright because I had you.

Everything would fall into place because you were there. And life would take on different forms, different meanings, different paths because I had you.

“I’m still here but where has he gone?” She asks.

But how would I find my way now?

Every ray of hope disappears before my eyes.

I'm not sure I even know what happiness means anymore.

My existence is no longer necessary in this world. The gift of life—the curse of immortality ever so potent, ever so meaningless when all else is gone.

“Tell me where to look—where to go, the promises I have to say, the gods I have to trick, what I must surrender. Only tell me the way… and I’ll do it. No matter the journey, no matter the hardship, no matter the cost.”’

My love, my dearest... my Captain, how I miss you so.

Arlecchino looks to the woman, unsure of what to say.

She has faced plenty of formidable enemies, even formidable allies… but not one as unconquerable as the grief that came with the curse of immortality. She knew only two others who hail from the same land the Lady [Name] had come from, but even they spoke none of the anguish that came with the price they paid.

How could she have stomached living for so long… when there was nothing left to live for?

“I’m still waiting… so he has to return. He has to come home. Come back to me. I’m still here…”

Maybe that was it.

She held onto this person’s promise of return. How cruel, to have been given hope by a dying man. To live in a world where another has gone is truly one of the greatest sorrows a soul can face.

“My colleague is from Khaenri'ah, my lady. They call him Pierro, perhaps he can be of service to you.”

In the wake of stars, the shadows of galaxies, and in forever... there, we remain.

Domed by the ether of the land of fire, a fragment of a soul exists. Clothed in the colors of the night with a face shielded by the void of his helmet that he wore so devotedly, unfailingly.  

Stillness blanketed his surroundings, only the songs of the seelies dancing in his midst and the faint droplets of water hitting stone echoed in the closed space.

It felt so long ago... that the embrace of the land was this mellow. The sensation was akin to receiving a hug from someone in the bleakness of winter: loving, comforting... warm.

It was just how he remembered it would feel like.

"You long for something." The Lord of the Night speaks, her voice sounding as though it came from everywhere and nowhere all at once. "Your heart screams at you to drop everything and look yet your mind shackles you to remain."

Capitano let the words settle—a statement, so it would seem—a question was its true form. No matter how the ancient being phrases her intentions, Capitano knew just as much that Yohualtecuhtin already holds the answers.

"Why do you hesitate, Outlander? Is she not all that you have ever wanted? Everything you have fought and lost to protect? The home you'll return to once the dust settles?"

The Harbinger let the ancient being’s words sink into the horizons of his shattered soul—a piece of what was once whole.

"She was."

Silence dyed the dust motes fluttering in the air. The Captain's answer seemingly weighing them down to stop their eternal waltz. Even the lullabies of the seelies floating the perimeter had dwindled to a whisper.

“Those blessed in sound will not know the turmoil of silence. A man raised in peace remains ignorant to the loss of war. And if the reason for my travels is my destination—I would have never left her side.” Should Capitano’s visage be free from the shadows of darkness, the reflection of an ocean of regret would be far too painful even for an entity as wise as the Night to witness.

“I returned to her, many times… but there was no one to return to.”

For years on end, that was something he struggled to accept. She doesn’t exist anymore. Not in all that ruin, not in the center of all this life.

But Capitano, in his grief, thought that anything could be brought to life.

He was free to dream, even the one he serves did not deprive him of that, but every fragment of hope he managed to stack upon one another was continuously knocked down by every passing sun that sought after him.

Capitano thought anything would be possible.

So, despite not believing in any deities, he prayed to every star, to every god that he knew that his beloved was alive. That [Name] was somewhere in this world, just waiting for him to return. Every meteor that grazed the sky and set alight the night in streaks of fire, he’d catch them all. Every aurora. All the full moons. Even for the slimmest of chances that he’d be heard—that his prayer would be answered.

He did not wish for a thousand things, not even a hundred, just one.

One wish for the heavens: to see her again.

Capitano did not need them to bring her back seven times, just once. Once and it would be enough. He would ask this of them, only this, and never again will he want anything more.

Only grant me this, and I will never ask anything of you ever again.  

Ignorantly he believed that if he wished for it eagerly and hopefully enough, the universe would move the stars to make it so.

But for many centuries, they ignored his prayer.

"Do you wish to know the horrible truth? When I close my eyes, her memory does not resurface. I cannot remember her laugh, or even tell apart her voice. All that remains is the waking thought that she was the only woman I ever loved—the only thing I ever wanted. And the Abyss took her away from me. The gods took her away from me! And all the time in the universe—all the power this world has to offer—couldn't fill the void she left behind."

Capitano's power fluctuates, threatening to burst from the nothingness festering inside him. He would have permitted it. Let the anger and sadness wreak havoc on the lands just as they did in their homeland. He would have done so—once.

All those moons ago when her image haunts his dreams, when her laughter echoes through the valleys, and her figure lingers in every turn. He would have let it all burn, bury everything in eternal frost so that they may see what it's like to exist when there was nothing left to live for.

Feel for themselves what life means when everything else is gone.

"So why do you linger?" The Lord of the Night asks patiently, calming… soothing, as though she knew the heaviness of the burden the Harbinger had been carrying for the past five centuries.

Why do I? Why am I the one permitted to live? Why are you the one trapped under the ruins of our home? Why?

"Because I am ashamed.” He admits.

“All humans fear death, Outlander. Even the bravest of warriors are afraid to fall.”

“No.” Capitano denies, clenching his fist to control his breathing, “To be wounded in battle is nothing to be feared—dying to defend your kingdom is an honor. But when I looked at her—when I looked at her as she watched me walk away when I swore to her that I was never going to do it again, all I felt was indignity.”

“When I fled and went forth with my escape, I saw her there. Waiting. Waiting just as I had told her to. I knew then, I would never see her again.”

Back then, Capitano should have frozen the entirety of the ruins of his home, blasted the debris inching closer to where she remained, subjugated the creatures of the abyss that threatened to hurt her—anything, anything to keep her alive.

But he didn’t.

“I am the only one left to remember her. The only one to speak her name. The sole monument that once upon a time, she, too, had existed. And when I think of her for the last time—when the echoes of her memory fade into eternity, only then will I know that I am worthy enough to meet her again."

The Commander of Khaenri'ah would have never spoken words plunged in the depths of cowardice. In the wake of the falling stars five hundred years ago, he would have done anything.

If she was taken to another world, Capitano would cut through the skies to find her. If she ceased to breathe in this space in time, he would transcend realities—search the bowels of the cosmos to see where she'd gone. If she were to ask to see him, even for the most fleeting of seconds, he would drop everything and come running.

He would have done anything.

And that was the part that riddled his heart in fear.

Because what if it wasn't enough?

Capitano was one of the most powerful people in the land. His name drove fear into the hearts of those who heard it, had them anticipating their deaths, finding their nights spent in restlessness at the thought that he’d take away their lives in the blink of an eye.

Crossing paths with the Captain was something you would not even wish on your enemies.

But this Captain—the one drowning in the oceans of his grief, chained down by his loneliness, awaiting the moments of his last breath... could care less for names and titles.

He reckons she would have reprimanded him for that. She'd even go as far as to demand him to take the matters of sovereignty and lordship a lot more seriously.

And he'd laugh at her, of course—a melody that could render even the most talkative of noble ladies to deafening silence. Always a stickler for the rules, that one.

At the end of the day, when the twilight settles, and the last rays of the sun slip under the blankets of the horizon, his mind would drift to the impossible and pathetic thought—one which he never fails to think about for every moon that rises, and all the suns that have gone—has she been reborn yet?

Having been serving under the majesty of the Tsarista, there was no way he would know for certain. Or at least, that's what he's been telling himself for the last few hundred years.

Capitano has seen the wonders of this world more times than he could count. He's met with a myriad of leaders and lords. Witnessed as the cultures of these mortal beings be brought to ruin and reform once more.

He closed his eyes for every reminder of her—thinking that it was better to live in ignorance of her presence than to have been led on only to be betrayed by his own heart, his own hope turned against him.

Capitano encased her memory in frost, put her in the deepest part of his mind where she could not haunt him. He forced himself to burn the desires of his soul—to see her, to hear her... to tell her that he loves her and that he would give anything and everything to change her fate. He numbed his heart to it all, compelled himself not to think about her.

For every venture beyond the walls of ice, past the snowy hills, and the frosty palace, Capitano felt her get further and further away.

And soon enough, her memory had altogether faded from his mind.

He'll wake in the dead of the night trying to piece together her image, guess the color of her eyes, remember what shade her hair was, what her smile looked like, the sound of his name when it was her who had said it.

He'd try desperately to replicate the scent that followed her like daylight, the clothing she adored, the sounds of her footfalls.

But nothing ever felt right.

He'd tell himself over and over again that he did not deserve to remember her—to miss her when he was the one who threw it all away. I miss you all the same. He'd whisper repeatedly that he was not allowed to hurt, that his heart had no right to break for all that he lost when he had the choice to keep her memory alive, but he didn’t. It hurts all the same.

Capitano would chant it like a mantra. A prayer for his punishment. But even as he tells himself that so long a time has passed—that he had no obligation to continue loving her, a ghost from a kingdom in ruins, a phantom in a land colored in life. I still love you... I love you all the same.

In the frozen wasteland of every passing second, the echoes of her joy would come rushing back to him. The warmth of her loving hold, and her fleeting touches saturated in adoration.

No matter what he did, where he went, who he met... Capitano always thought about her. Are you happy? Are you eating well? Do you get enough sleep? Have you fallen for another? Does he treat you right? Do you miss me? Are you looking for me? Do you—will you still love me?

Whenever he departed, Capitano went with the hopes that by some stroke of fate, he'd run into her. When he would turn the corner, she'd bump into him. Or perhaps walk past each other on the street. Go to the same tailor in town.

Or that I'd see you... even if it's from afar.

But it wasn't enough to just hope.

Yet that was exactly what he'd been doing for the last thousand suns that had passed him by.

He wonders, if he had only risen to protest—to deny the fate the heavens had set for her… would she still be here? Would he not feel this twisting sense of guilt knotting his stomach? Feel as the threads of his heart come undone at his powerlessness?

Capitano knew he should have done more. He could have tried, as soon as he was able—and he always was—as early as he attained power... he should have tried, to look for her, to get a glimpse of her shadow, just to put his heart at ease.

But he didn't do that.

Perhaps it's the gnawing fear of finding her soul nowhere in this world—that he'll finally see that he's left alone in this plane of existence, where she can only live in the memories he forced himself to shatter, fragments of it carried away by the zephyrs of grief.

“You speak of my longing, Yohualtecuhtin…” He spoke into the silence, his footsteps resonating in the hall of stones, “Surely, you would wish for the same. Wish to be closer to demise if it means you’d meet the one you love. To rid of it all so you’d reach the ends faster.”

Before he left, Capitano looked past his armor-clad shoulders to that big monument that housed the ancient spirit. He could almost feel the burning stare she was carving into his being.

“She alone has made me love the path to death.”

And only there, in the cradles of the infinite nothingness… will I be worthy enough to see you.

“Perhaps you should seek her for a final time. Not in the past where ruins lay, but within the warmth of a home, surrounded by the promises you spoke to her… maybe then, you and your beloved will find peace.”

Funny story, I almost lost this fic💀.

My laptop crashed coincidentally when I uhh ‘killed’ off Capitano from the reader’s perspective. Turns out my 1st drive also died along with it. The repairman told me he needed the 2nd drive (where this fanfic was stored) to get my laptop working again but I couldn’t do that (cuz it had this fanfic) because all my files is stored there. The panic I had was otherworldly—but I managed to create a solution.  

I came up with this idea as a form of revenge because of a post I saw on a page on Facebook saying Maviuka was Capitano’s TOTGA (I remember you Jhan, this is all your fault>:0). I didn’t read too much into it (cuz the update was like a day ago back then???) because at that time I hadn’t done the archon quest (and it was midterm week). I was so PISSED that I planned this fanfic in my dorm room instead of reviewing—so now uhmm… I think I might have gotten a little carried away ehe (BECAUSE EVEN I’M CRYING FROM THIS FIC) on another note, you’d think after I wrote a Khanrean kanreeyan Khanreyan STUPID FCKER prince Kaeya fanfic, I’d know how to spell kahnreeya khanrea— I don’t know how to spell it. I think I might have a thing for khaenriyan help ya know what, I take it back.

I hope you enjoyed it 💖

[hunnylagoon]

Right Where You Left Me

Pt1: Coming Down With Me

Ellie Williams x reader

I once met a girl with skin like kiwi. Even the butterflies were drawn to her, landing on the top of her nose, the dip in her palm. But the kiwi stung my tongue, scarred my lips and made me bleed. I do not care. Cover me in your kiwi kisses, burn my mouth and scar my flesh. Bleach my eyes and dip my heart in lemon juice. Sing your sickly sweet words until my ears bleed.

Premise: You and Ellie were childhood best friends until you grew up. Funny thing about soulmates is that they tend to find their way back to each other.

Warnings: Angst / reader has religious issues / people are mean lol / best friends to enemies to lovers / roommate! Ellie

Part two here!

Part three here!

Part four here!

I know everything about you,

You know everything about me.

I had always been bound to the earth while Ellie danced with the stars in the night sky among delusion and dreams. Though, more so than anything, we were bound to one another.

Our parents were friends, even before we were born. They met at summer camp when they were teenagers, the same camp that Ellie and I were eventually shipped off to every summer. Of course, I have no recollection of when I was an infant, only stories that my parents shared with me; My dad told me that I learned to crawl backwards before I learned to crawl forwards. Joel kept a photo album of his girl.

I can't remember days of crawling around and babbling incoherently, but I can tell you what I remember.

Five years old- Kindergarten

Despite the air being unbearable hot, it was infused with excitement as Ellie and me set foot in the petting zoo. I had never seen so many animals in one place, my little brain was going nuts. Accompanied by the gentle hum of content animals, the aroma of straw, and the distant melody of joyful chatter, the petting zoo rang true to its rustic charm.

Ellie, with her auburn curls bouncing in the breeze, led the way, her eyes widened at the sight of a fluffy alpaca lazily grazing in the sunshine. I giggled as we approached a pen filled with adorable piglets, their tiny snouts sniffing the pure air far away from the dirty stench of the city.

Our parents, watching with affectionate smiles, guided us to the lamb enclosure where soft, woolly creatures nuzzled against tiny palms. Ellie's fingers gently traced the contours of a lamb's ear, and she couldn't resist a delighted squeal as she felt the velvety nose of a goat.

As the afternoon sun cast a warm glow on the scene, the families strolled through the meandering paths, passing by a pond where ducks quacked merrily. Ellie and I, hand in loveable hand, marvelled at the wonders of the animal kingdom, our hearts brimming with the pure joy of discovery and a blooming friendship.

Seven years old- Grade Two

On this particular day, Ellie and I had been messing around in her backyard; that's all we did on the weekends at that age, you couldn't get us to go inside. We spent the morning entwined in daffodils and hyacinth that Joel has so tenderly nurtured, careful not to crush the dainty flowers beneath our wild flailing bodies. 

We had the brilliant idea to paint rocks so we had been searching her yard for the perfect flat stones we had in mind. Ellie picked up a rock and immediately threw it back down, jumping away with a shriek.

This had piqued my curiosity (As well as Joels who sat on the back porch, watching us), I went over to where she stood petrified and found nothing more than a little snake staring up at her. I dropped the stones I had been carrying and bent over to get a better look at it, it was brown and had a few white vertical stripes cascading up its thin body. 

I slowly moved my hand outwards to touch but was swiftly interrupted by Joel scooping me up "That's enough of that kiddo." 

Nine years old- Grade Four

Joel's house garnered an expansive backyard and just past the old fence that Ellie and I had thrown one too many softballs at was a lush forest. I would always clamour up the wood fence and poke my little head over it to try and gather a glimpse of wildlife, Ellie usually had to give me a little boost. "Hold still!" She hissed with her arms wrapped around my torso to help lift me, my scrawny arms shook as I tried to pull myself up even further.

The wood rot of the ancient fence finally set in and with the both of us pressing our mighty weight against it collapsed with the fence. We heard the splitting of wood, I got the worst end of the stick, toppling over and putting my hands out to protect myself. I could've sworn that I heard my wrist break like a crunch.

While I did what felt like a three-sixty frontflip over the fence just for my small head to come down on the end of it with a solid smack, Ellie had just flopped on top of it, green eyes widening in shock when she saw my once straight arm now had an abnormal bump coming out from my wrist. "What's wrong with your hand?"

"I don't know I'm probably dying!" I screamed as loud as my voice could carry, that was the first time I had felt adrenaline run through my veins. "You killed me!"

"No, I didn't!" She retorted, scrambling off the fence and back up to her feet. She was clad in a Jurassic Park T-shirt that she practically was swimming in and those pink and orange plaid Bermuda shorts that any kid in the 2000s owned. "Dad!" Ellie yelled, calling for Joel.

I felt the tears welling up in my eyes and finally, I released the sob that had been building up in my throat. She was almost dumbstruck and just ended up kneeling and wrapping her arms around me in a hug.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." She muttered.

10 years old- Grade Five

Ellie had been practicing guitar the entire time I was at her house, Joel had gifted her his old guitar and she was so set on perfecting every cord, every half-hour she would ask for a song recommendation and then flip through the songbook she got to find it.

I was curled up in her bed reading The Hunger Games over again "Els, are you team Peeta or Gale?" I was always at Ellie's house, mine was too busy all the time; I had three siblings, Naomi and Aaron who were twins and two years younger than me and my brother Elijah who was three years older than me. I loved going to her house on Saturdays so I could sleep in and wriggle my way out of going to church. Even though her house was right across the street from mine and my parents would bang on Joel's door, he always covered for me.

"Uh," She was distracted by something in her songbook "Team Katniss?"

I nod in approval to myself as she isn't paying attention "You know who Gale reminds me of?" I ask and without Ellie giving me a response I answer anyway "Luke, I think I kind of like him."

Those are the words that get her to look at me "Ew, he's so weird."

"He's nice to me."

She wrinkles her nose in distaste then shrugs, returning to her guitar which sits awardly in her scrawny frame.

12 years old- Grade Seven

"Fuck!" I yell, kicking the grimy green dumpster in the graffiti-covered ally out of anger, though I kicked it a little too hard now my foot hurts I refuse to admit it "Fuck I hate them!"

Ellie leans against the brick wall on the opposite side of the alley, our bikes discarded on the ground while I hopelessly rant to my friend about my parents. She doesn't say much, just little nods of agreement. My parents had caught me skipping church and they laid into me, saying that I had no respect for them or god and whether that was true or not didn't matter, I was full of pre-teen angst and needed to call my friend to go for a bike ride around town.

"She fucking tore my room apart, I never see them get mad at Aaron or Naomi!" I drag my hands down my face before I look back at the dumpster and kick it again "Ow, cunt!" I'm now hopping on one foot while my knee bends my other leg and I hold my beaten red Converse, covered in doodles, to soothe the pain of my poor toes. It's moments like this that remind me why I love Ellie, because as stupid as I look hobbling around and cussing, she doesn't laugh at me even though I know she wants to.

After a little bit of me aimlessly yelling I finally wind down. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to remember those breathing exercises that we were taught at school assemblies. "Thanks for listening to me talk shit, I'm sorry."

"Don't be," She shrugs "I've seen you do worse."

This cracks a smile on my face, I turn my head and am met with the Jackson skyline, a beautiful pink sunset on the horizon "Sun's setting," I say.

"Sleepover?" Ellie asks.

"Sleepover," I confirm.

13 years old- Grade Eight

We were thirteen when our parents shoved cash into our hands and dropped us at the mall to go back to school shopping by ourselves for the first time. Every parent's nightmare was a busy mall so when they figured us old enough to venture into the dreaded foodcourt on our own, believed they were taking that opportunity. 

Ellie had bought a couple of T-shirts and hoodies here and there, not too particular about what she was buying, though I was very nit-picky over what I wore so I forced Ellie to judge every single outfit that I wore and rate it, she gave the same answer every single time "It looks fine."

"Cool but I don't wanna look fine, I wanna look pretty," I say in frustration, walking back into the dressing room to try on another outfit. Ellie is sitting in the fitting room on a pink velvet couch, arms crossed and waiting for me to finish. "How's this?" I ask, walking out of the changing stall and giving her a little twirl.

"It looks fine- I mean good, everything looks good on you." She sounds almost exasperated. Ellie's hair was still that vibrant auburn colour that my mother was obsessed with, it had yet to fade out into a duller brown with age.

"Really?" I perk up just the slightest.

"Yeah, you look really pretty." She gives me a little nod of confirmation. I know that she's only saying that because she wants to go to the food court and get a cinnamon bun but I believe her anyway.

14 years old- Grade Nine

We were just nearing the end of the second half of our soccer game. It was the tournament and we were only a point away from placing first in the league, the thought of it had kept me up all week I was running off of Subway sandwiches and Gatorade. 

Riley (the midfielder) swiftly passed the ball to me before she was surrounded by the other team's defence, I looked up to the clock and there were only seconds left in the match. I let my instincts take over, my parents forcing me into soccer since elementary school was not going to wind up useless. My footwork took me up the right wing just before the penalty box. 

I wasn't paying enough attention to notice the tall blonde girl in a slick back ponytail closing in on me. I hear Ellie shout my name and that's all I need to make this last pass, I barely even looked up before power-driving the ball to Ellie who was merely six metres away from me. I slipped onto the muddied field with that kick, watching Ellie waste no time to score our final goal the second her cleat touched the ball. 

The clock deadlocks and I drag myself off the ground running towards my best friend, I jump on her almost taking her down with me though she manages to steady herself. "I fucking love you!" I scream hugging her with all of the force I can muster. She hugs me in return, unable to get any words out between her laughs. The team is quick to swarm us, everyone is shouting about our well-deserved victory but not one person is louder than Joel in the stands.

15 years old- Grade Ten

Snow was falling as I stood in the foyer of the high school, still waiting for my date for the winter formal to arrive. Conner had asked me out weeks ago, we hadn't talked much since though I just figured that was because he was shy. I even left school early to get ready and spent hours meticulously pinning every hair into place and adjusting my navy blue satin dress so it would drape across my body in just the right way.

My sister, Naomi was an aspiring makeup artist so I let her dust my eyelids in silver glitter, I forced Warren to drive me. All of that was just for me to get stood up. Conner hadn't texted me all day, I knew he wasn't coming that didn't stop me from forcing denial on myself. "Hey," I heard a soft voice sound behind me, I wasn't surprised to see Ellie. Even though our parents were no longer friends, we were close as ever.

"Hi," My voice was hushed and feeble.

"The dance started an hour ago," She said, that night she had been wearing a white button-up with a pair of jeans and her hair half up. It was clear the dance wasn't as big a deal to her as it was to me. All she had done was ask Riley to go with her and call it a day. Despite her lack of effort, she looks beautiful as ever "I don't think he's coming," She said bluntly.

That's the exact moment I felt myself crack, tears welled up in my eyes and I lurched forward to hug her, flailing my arms helplessly to search for comfort "Then why did he ask me to go with him?" My sobs were drowned out by the sound of Kesha blasting in the overcrowded gym.

"I don't know, but he's an idiot for standing you up," Ellie holds me close and I never want her to let go "I wouldn't have ever done that to you."

16 years old- Grade Eleven

This is where things begin to fall apart. I found Ellie on the back porch of some random guy's house at a party. "I figured I would find you out here," I say, taking a seat next to her on the wooden steps, I hug my knees close to my chest.

"What's up?" Beside me, Ellie is unnervingly calm, she nurses a joint, taking a long hit and letting the smoke turn to clouds. 

"Conner kissed me," I say cutting to the chase

I can tell she doesn't like the thought, she hated Conner, ever since he stood me up at the winter formal but she bites her tongue "You guys gonna date?"

"I think so."

"Good for you."

"I don't know if I liked it," My eyebrows are furrowed, and I pull my knees in even further, inhaling the crisp autumn air and the smell of Ellie, she smells like cannabis, firewood and bar soap. 

"What do you mean?" Ellie puts out the end of her joint and tucks what remains of it into an empty Altoids container.

"Nothing," I dismiss it, "It doesn't matter, I just wanted to talk to you," Ellie had softened every burden for me since we were girls. "Um, so, my parents are sending me to boarding school next year."

"No, they're not-

"They are."

Ellie doesn't seem so calm anymore, she adjusts her body to face mine and she's so close I swear to god I could've counted every freckle on her face. "Why, what did you do?" The way she looks at me makes me wish that she was a boy.

"Nothing!" I retort "They think I'm straying from god, it's a Christian school." That was my code for 'they think I have a crush on you and I rather not get disowned by my super religious parents!'

"come stay with me and Joel-

"Ellie, please," I place a hand on her thigh "I don't think I can get away from this one."

That was at the end of September, it only got worse from there. I partially wished that I didn't tell Ellie that I had to leave, every time we hung out it just felt like words were hanging between us like birds on a wire and neither of us could say what we wanted. I forced myself to distance myself from her, I didn't know how else to handle my feelings. 

She would blow up my phone and come by my house even visit my work but I just told her that I was busy. I could tell that she didn't believe my excuses for a second, she had English with my new boyfriend, Conner and would get him to relay messages and notes to me.

It didn't get easier to ignore her, my family prying about where she had been. I never told my parents that Ellie was gay, though I know they had always had a suspicion and that's why they could never love her all the way completely, the way Joel loved me and looked out for me. My mom and dad liked that I swapped out Ellie for Conner, by February, my dad even started to call him son. 

In March Ellie and I had stopped talking completely, she gave up on texting me and coming by my house just for my siblings to lie about my whereabouts. It hurt to see the resentment gleam in her eye every time she passed me in the hallway. 

She didn't speak a word to me until the start of the summer bonfire which was custom in our town. If I had known she would be there I never even would have thought about going. I rather not rehash this awful night, not right now just know that it ended with some alcohol, a bit of blood in the sand and me telling Ellie 'I would pick him over you every single time.' Yikes, that's not a good look for me. I spent the rest of my summer burying her in the back of my mind until boarding school finally came upon me and I graduated with friends I didn't like in a place that didn't feel like home. 

I was sixteen then now I'm nineteen, no longer a girl but not yet a woman. Those were some key moments of our friendship. I'm not so sure why I felt so mature at the age of sixteen. I had taken a gap year and loved every minute of it, I backpacked in Australia, worked as a camp counsellor in the summer then left to work at a turtle conservatory in Bali, I was making pennies but the experience was worth it. 

I arrived at my new home sunkissed with Ellie far in the back of my mind. I didn't know much about who I would be rooming with, I had only spoken to Dina over a Zoom call who was a friendly girl with warm eyes and ink-black hair spilling over her shoulders. I just prayed that none of them were Craigslist killers.

It took me entirely too long to find parking, when I finally did, I grabbed two of my suitcases, unable to hold anything else, the rest of the boxes jammed into my car would have to wait. I read over the text that Dina sent me what seemed to be a million times to make sure I had the right address. It was a small-ish one-story flat with brown walls that had white accents along corners and the doorway with a wood-panelled gable roof. As far as college housing went, I was happy. It looked like something I would've made in the Sims when I was a teenager. 

I walk to the front door, the entrance is framed by intricately carved moulding, its details telling a story of craftsmanship and tradition. The wood, polished to a warm, inviting glow, exudes a sense of richness and history. I knocked on the door and heard a voice shouting that she would get it.

The door swings open and I'm met face to face with Dina "Hey!" She smiled "It's nice to meet you, I think you'll like it here," She held the door wide open, motioning for me to go in, and I obliged. "Let me give you a tour." Dina is clad in sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt and her hair has been pulled back into a messy ponytail.

The layout of the house seemed somewhat odd to me, there was a corridor straight ahead when you walked in, the first room was the laundry room and contained the washer and dryer with some hampers and shelves of detergent and laundry freshener. "This is the laundry room, we have a wash schedule along with a chore schedule so we will put you on that tonight," Dina told me, I just nodded politely in response feeling a little too awkward and out of place to say anything. 

"Alright so this is the kitchen, there's a half bathroom beside it," She says, swinging her arms wide open for exaggeration I can see the chore chart hanging on the walls, it's written in chalk, and it is the laundry schedule. There are little laminated tags with each person's name on them, though I can't quite make out the names from where I am standing. The fridge is covered in postcards, magazine cutouts, polaroids, and bright magnets of papayas and flowers, I automatically assumed this was Dina despite not knowing the other roommates. The kitchen is open with no walls to hide it, the oven and dishwasher are built into counters against the walls as well as the sink which i spotless at the moment, there isn't a dining table but a kitchen island with stools. Past the island you can see the living room, there are two grey couches with decorative pillows and fuzzy throw blankets, a coffee table that looked handcrafted with care and of course a TV. 

Have I mentioned there are plants everywhere? Like everywhere. "Okay, so," Dina keeps on moving and I trail behind with my suitcases, over there is my room and Cat's and Abby's," She points to the left of the living room where there is a short hallway with three doors, one on each wall of it. "There's Cat now," She waves at her roommate.

Cat is relatively tall, she has black hair that's tied into a bun, and she's wearing plaid pyjama pants and a black tank top, I can see her abundance of tattoos. She has one sleeve of laurel cascading up her arm and the other is patchwork done right, each separate piece blends almost seamlessly into the next. "I like your tattoos," I say, not wanting to sit in any more silence.

She grins at me "Thanks, love," I nod in response to her, Cat looks down at the suitcases that I'm lugging around "Dina, take this poor girl to her room already."

"I was just getting there," Dina teases and motions for me to follow her "So over here is the bathroom and of course your room, I left your copy of the house key on your mattress," She opens it up. The bedroom is completely blank aside from the boxed bedframe, shelf, vanity and mattress that I had to send over prior. There's a built-in closet in the wall. 

I put my suitcases on the ground "I'm gonna grab the rest of my stuff from my car," I offer up a tight-lipped smile.

"Wait a second," She takes my hand and then knocks on the bedroom door parallel to mine. "I'm coming in!" Dina announces pushing the door open, there's a brunette girl hunched over her desk. My breath hitches in my throat when she turns around "This is Ellie."

I can see the panic that momentarily takes over Ellie when she spots me before it's replaced by a false coolness, "Hey," She says before turning back to her laptop and putting her headphones back on. It felt like my heart had shut down, why the fuck did I sign the lease?

"Sorry," Dina shuts Ellie's door "She's not the friendliest of the bunch but she'll warm up to you eventually," Dina walks to the front door with you Abby should be around here somewhere."

I had gotten so frustrated trying to set up my bed frame that I sheepishly left my room and asked for help, god bless Abby. She was putting everything together so easily, I watched her in awe as she finished adding the final screw to my bedframe. "Want help setting up the mattress?"

"Yes, please," I say, I grab one end of the mattress while Abby gets the other, she tells me to lift on three and I listen, she carries the majority of the weight but it still feels like an accomplishment on my part. "So does everyone here go to Northridge?"

"Yeah, except for Cat, she's a tattoo apprentice."

"Cool, cool," I search for words, "What are you majoring in?"

"Kinesiology," It makes sense, I could've called that by looking at the fit gym rat who was now sitting on my bed. "You?"

"Wildlife biology,"

"So you like animals and conservation and stuff?"

"Mhm," I nod "It's honestly kind of hard to not have any animals in my life." I was missing all my pets back home, when I wasn't with them I was working at a conservatory or at a summer camp where I took care of all of the horses, and Ellie's dog, Achilles.

"You'll get used to it, living with Dina is the same thing as living with an animal," She smiles and for the first time, I feel comfortable. Abby watching me with her blue eyes as I begin to unpack my abundance of boxes, I kind of just dump everything onto the ground because I can't remember which box has what, the first thing I search for are my coat hangers. I dump out a box with a bible, wall cross, and rosery and golden cross necklace from a box of random knickknacks. "You religious?"

"Kind of?" I question it myself "Not really, it's just my family, I packed that stuff to make my mom happy."

Abby nods "I get it."

"You do?"

She backtracks "No, but I can try to."

I shake my head, "I wouldn't try if I were you, I spent nineteen years trying to get away from it." I was sure other Christian homes were healthy but mine wasn't one of them, the way my parents obsessed over Jesus was honestly frightening.

"Hey, do you wanna come watch a movie when your done unpacking?" Abby asked, "Get to know your new roommates a little better."

I don't entirely want to, I wasn't ready to talk to Ellie. I still hadn't wrapped my head around the fact that I was living with her and that she was pretending she didn't know me, despite this, my words betrayed me "For sure."

I sat on one of the couches beside Abby, I made myself as small as I could, thinking that maybe I could make myself disappear. Cat and Ellie crammed themselves on the other while Dina took the plush armchair. I felt so out of place everyone here had relationships, I had one with Ellie before I severed it 'Grown Ups' was playing on the flatscreen though it seemed I was the only one paying attention.

The four girls all laughed and talked their way through the movie, Abby, Cat, and Dina would ask me a question here and there but I didn't know them well enough to pitch in. I kept telling myself that I needed to push through, if Spiderman could do it, so could I.

I didn't even finish the movie, halfway through I excused myself saying I was tired which wasn't necessarily a lie. It was difficult to fathom how well Ellie was playing it off, acting like she never met me. I walk into the bathroom, clean towel in hand, ready to scrub off the stress of today. Beside the mirror, I see a cardstock poster decorated with bright markers and doodles.

HOUSE RULES

#1 No underwear left in the bathroom

#2 Wash your dishes

#3 Break it? Tell Abby

#4 No smoking inside

#5 Privates are private!

#6 Pls don't drink and drive (We have a couch)

#7 Give your beloved roommates a heads up before having someone over

#8 This is a residence of women so the seat goes down!!!

#9 Respect the bedrooms

#10 Having sex? Keep it quiet

#11 NO DRAMA!!!!!!!!

#12 Follow chore and wash chart

#13 Don't eat what's not yours! (Without asking)

I finish reading the last bit and mutter to myself  "Wasn't planning on it." I run the water so hot that it feels cold and I'm quick to not use all of the hot water and have my roommates hate me on my first night here. Everyone has their little drawers in the bathroom, mine is empty aside from some floss and cotton pads that the girl before me left behind. I make a mental note to make use of my bathroom drawer tomorrow and fill it with makeup remover or conditioner, or something like that.

Brushing my teeth and wrapping myself in a strawberry towel that I had purchased at a craft fair, I open the bathroom door, I can see the light of the TV and the sound of chatter from the living room. However, I ignore it and make a B-line to my bedroom. Even though I had spent hours unpacking and pinning up posters it still didn't seem homey.

I slip into shorts and a t-shirt, leaving my hair as is and throw myself onto my bed. My towel is discarded onto my bathroom floor. When I turn on my phone I am bombarded my messages from my parents, my mother has probably sent me twelve Google pins to the closest churches, I answer her with a thumb-up emoji and settle into my bed to scroll through social media and see how much fun all of my friends are having. 

Fucking Ellie. She's plaguing my thoughts, I think of what I said to her and it makes me cringe, I want to smother myself with my satin pillow. I don't even have food to eat, grocery shopping wasn't something that I put on my priority list and right about now I was but Ellie, god, why was I such a dick? Because I didn't know what else to do- whatever, I was a scared teenager. What would you have done? Probably kiss her you lesbo.

Lord, it makes me sick to think about what could've been.

15 years old- Grade Ten

Ellie and I were sitting at a fire pit at her uncle Tommy's lake house. It was a Fourth of July party except we were the only teenagers there; everyone else was friends of Tommy and Maria or some distant relatives of Ellie's or children of said people.

After five years of practicing day and night, Ellie had just about mastered the acoustic guitar, she played and I sang, wrapped up in her flannel, I was tucked close next to her. 

She struck every cord perfectly and I began to sing absentmindedly, the song that had been carved into my brain. Ellie looked so insanely beautiful illuminated only by fire and the stars that hung in the sky, if it hadn't been a sin I would've kissed her.

Talking to her felt as holy as praying to god but I knew it was as sinful as worshipping the devil. 

If it was so wrong why was I born in God's image?

Her gentle hand strummed on the chords of the guitar, the same calloused hand that had once turned water into wine. Her laughter was the sound of a church choir 

I wish I told her how much I liked her but what would've happened if I did? What would my parents think, they would kill me. 

Part of me didn't care how my parents would react, if I spoke up, I could say goodbye to my inheritance and having college paid for. Maybe that was an unfair assumption to make on my part. Ugh. FUCK, I don't know, let's get to the next part of the story.

I couldn't sleep that night, I thought maybe a glass of water would soothe me, well I didn't really think that but I was hungry and thirsty and water was the only thing in that house I had the right to ingest. I figured that I could fill myself with water and zip to Denny's in the morning then grab some groceries.

Poking my head out of my door, I checked to see if anyone was still awake before gingerly taking hushed steps towards the kitchen, I was trying to be as light as Thumbelina. I hadn't noticed Ellie bumming on the couch, scrolling through her phone. 

"You cooking all of that non-existent food you brought?" She jeered. Oh, now she wanted to talk to me.

"I was gonna have some warm water soup for dinner and chew on pistachio shells from the cup holder in my car for dessert," I answer "I'm treating myself tonight." She didn't think it was funny at all, a few years ago she would've been cackling at my subpar joke, but now she just seemed unamused. "Sheesh, tough crowd."

She stays silent.

"You used to think I was funny," I say.

"I also used to think the tooth fairy was real."

"Harsh," I mutter. Turning the tap on and sticking a finger underneath it to test the temperature. I put my hummingbird mug underneath it and let it fill. "Hey, Ellie," She doesn't answer "Have you told them any bad things about me?"

She nearly scoffs "No, believe it or not, I don't talk about you, I don't even think about you," There's venom in her voice "You haven't crossed my mind since you walked through that door."

"Why are you pretending you don't know me-

"Because I don't fucking like you," She says it like it's so obvious and it honestly is in this moment "Just because you're pretty and you act like a sweet little Christain girl, that doesn't mean shit."

"I'm not trying to act like anything-

"Yeah, well it seems pretty insincere to me," Ellie seethed and I could feel a sting in my heart, I would do some pretty horrendous things for a time machine right about now.  I can tell that there won't be any salvaging for this, she hates me to death and rightfully so. 

This is where I give up "Okay, sorry," I grab my hummingbird mug and retreat to my room.

I endured four months of that.

Ellie was pushed to the back of my mind while I ran through classes and got a job as a waitress at a stake house. I did everything in my power to keep myself busy, to keep her out of my head but she was always there, she hung around like a song I can't shake, like I'm haunted by the melody. 

Some nights when the city decides to quiet down I can hear her play guitar, and I'll quietly hum along to it. Songs she used to sing for me, she now sings for another woman, another soul. I knew that she had girls over, but I never got to meet them as Ellie did everything in her power to pretend I didn't exist.

The only communication I got with her was in the roommate's group chat, and it was always brief.

Ellie: Having a friend over tomorrow night

D-manz: Friend? With benefits??????????

Kit-Cat: Nah they're hardly even friends, just benefits

Abs: Don't get her pregnant

Me: 👍

As long as I was with the girls, Ellie was not. She avoided me like the plague, it was like she despised my existence. If we go clubbing, she takes a separate taxi, petty if you ask me. The girls knew something happened between us but they couldn't pinpoint what it was. It was Dina's conspiracy that Ellie used to date one of my friends and broke her heart. While I bonded with Cat, Dina, and Abby, Ellie would pretend to like me. She would occasionally laugh at my jokes or ask how my shift was when Dina was in the room. 

Trust me when I say I would rather forget than dwell on it but it was impossible. I know that I'm nothing more than an obstacle to her, a stain on her bedsheets, a sore in her mouth, but she was still my diamond in the rough. I will willingly ignore all of her cutthroat words and her jagged edges. 

Because I know everything about us.

[alottiegoingon]

the last night

shauna shipman x fem!reader

summary: shauna comes back after 19 months in the wilderness

warnings: shauna and r had a situationship, very suggestive content but nothing explicit, wilderness time, mentions of mental illness (depression, anxiety), r cheating on her actual gf, manipulative shauna (?), angst but happy ending, not proofread

"i can't believe you're leaving me," you complain in a purposely whiny tone, your voice ringing in shauna's ears as you sit across from each other on the bed. she grips her familiar journal while you help her go through her checklist of essential items.

"i'm not leaving you. It's only a week," she murmurs, her head bowed over her journal, but her eyes lift to catch yours. a playful smile dances on her lips, secretly entertained by your antics.

shauna played as the midfielder for the yellowjackets, a girls' soccer team. their recent victory had secured them a spot in the nationals in seattle, and it was all she could talk about.

you were genuinely excited for her, but the thought of spending so much time apart made you anxious. it wasn’t a full week, technically, but you couldn’t help worrying about shauna meeting someone much cooler in a much cooler place.

"remember the last time?" shauna reminisces about her trip to denver five years ago, also for soccer. you were just middle schoolers then, and you were forced to make new friends while she was gone for days. "you found new friends," her voice crackled slightly.

"so we are friends now?" you say, your voice constricting. shauna doesn't look up but you hear her snort, contrasting with her muscles tensing up. the silence settles in and you don't wait any longer to fill it, not wanting to make things any weirder than they already were.

"anyway. it's just not the same now," shauna understood your words perfectly well, especially considering the kind of friendship you had. still, she questioned.

"why's that?" she inquires, her hands absently rubbing the pen against her journal as she finishes her list.

"you know why," three words of yours were responsible for the abrupt stop of her writing. shauna places the journal and pen aside, focusing on you.

"because no one is as cool as me?" she quips, a self-satisfied grin spreading across her lips.

"that's debatable," you retort, feigning skepticism as you mock her with a playful expression.

"you hurt my feelings like that," her false frown deepens as she leans in.

her hands move surreptitiously toward your legs, eventually landing in a gentle and not so innocent touch on your knees. inch by inch, she traces your skin with her fingertips until her full hands were on your thigs and crawling up to your waist.

"i'm so sorry," you try to keep yourself unbothered by her touch but she's smarter. her nose strokes your cheek, stopping to give your upper lip a messy kiss, and she kisses her way town to your neck.

brushing your hair out of the way along with the heart necklace, her teeth gently grazes on your skin.

"nuh-uh. this won't do," her hot breath into your skin makes you shiver. "i have a better idea."

𖠋

everyone remembers where they are when an upsetting event happens. the death of a celebrity, a natural disaster, a medical trauma. you remember, clear as water, where you were when you read the newspaper. walking back home.

it was all over the news. flight 2525, the private plane that lottie matthews' dad had chartered, had disappeared. the plane shauna was in. making everything worse, the news would often use the word 'crash' instead and you couldn't bare the idea.

soon enough, it hit you that the night before her trip was the last time you would ever see her again. the only thing more unbearable than that was the uncertainty; not knowing if shauna was still out there.

after a month of silence, you thought you had your answer.

people don't move on from things like that, not completely. especially if their best friend was envolved. spending your days in bed, skipping meals and not going to class became part of your new routine. you lost track of whether it was day or night, whether the sun was shining or not. your mind was consumed by her.

moving on or not, life goes on and the world doesn't slow down for anyone. after six months, normalcy had returned for most. apart from the parents and a handful of students, the yellowjackets had faded from people's memories, just like their plane. this pissed you off. you barely had time to grieve as the rest of the world rushed forward.

forcing yourself to merely exist, not truly live, you returned to class. like a ghost, you attracted curious glances and avoided them like the plague. after graduation, college was the next step.

a year later, shauna’s parents asked if you wanted anything from her room. something special, or perhaps just to visit. you were certain it wasn’t a good idea, but you went anyway. under her pillow, you found an envelope from brown university—the same school you were attending, the place you and shauna had planned to go together.

that was all it took to break you down into a sobbing mess on her bed.

𖠋

things got better. not perfect, not the way they used to be, but better. you weren't alone anymore but always had to push away the idea of losing all of your friends at once, one in special. luckily or not, college kept you busy.

"have you finished tomorrow's essay? It's so boring I might just drop the class," your girlfriend says, dropping a pile of old books on the cafeteria table and sitting across from you.

"i have dark circles under my eyes, what do you think?" you groan, lifting your head. she leans over the table to kiss your forehead.

"i think you still look pretty, baby."

"thanks, but I'm not letting you copy my work."

"worth the shot," she chuckles, placing two cups of coffee on the table, sliding one towards you.

your plan was to finish that damn essay and be completely free. the cafeteria was buzzing with students, but at least they were minding their own business. that's what you get for studying in a campus cafeteria.

"did you hear what happened to them? i'm so glad they're alive. It must have been so tough," her sudden comment startles you, taking a moment to register.

you swallow a lump in your throat as you glance over your shoulder at the TV, where crowds of people are watching the news: 'yellowjackets rescued'.

"holy shit," you whisper, the shock setting in as you realize you hadn't revealed not only your awareness of their situation but also your complex connection with one of them.

𖠋

a week after shauna got back, her parents had called you your stomach was turning upside down and your anxiety levels were through the roof. you couldn't manage to put your feelings into words.

you knocked on her bedroom door, too anxious to wait, just to announce yourself. for the first time in almost two years, shauna stood before you. she bore a few scars, nothing too severe; her hair had grown longer, losing its waves; her eyes seemed somehow larger, fixed on you as if she had just saw something extraodrinary.

she leapt from the bed, a cautious gaze scanning you, before rushing toward you and embracing you tightly.

her arms wrapped around your shoulders, her fingers digging into your clothes so intensely it almost hurt. you reciprocated, holding her waist tightly to keep her close, unsure when the tears started flowing, but you feeling your shoulders becoming wet.

"hi," she whisper between tears, her voice crackling.

"hi," you echo her. "i thought i would never see you again."

"i know," she sniffs, clinging to you. the last thing she murmurs for the long time you two spent hugging.

shauna was back, but she was much quieter, easily irritated, and frightened by everything. she had every right to feel that way, but you were worried. no one was allowed inches close to her journal and you respected that, encouraging her to write about her feelings.

your finals didn't matter anymore; nothing else did. for the next few weeks, you were constantly by her side. even waiting outside the bathroom door like a loyal dog.

however, you weren't the same as before. you weren't as touchy or intimate, especially after shauna discovered you were dating someone else. she became distant and strange, pushing you away and ignoring your calls.

"hey, I bought you a new book. It's from that author you used to like before..." you stop yourself mid-sentence. "you know."

forcing a smile, you place the book on her desk. her vacant eyes meet yours, but she remains still, lying in bed staring at the ceiling.

"is everything okay?" you ask hesitantly, walking towards her and offering your hand.

the silence lingers but she accepts your hand and joins you.

"shauna?" you say. as soon as she's on her feet, she drops your hand quickly.

"everything is fine," she says sharply.

"right... it's just that you've been acting weird lately," you explain, trying not to upset her.

"in case you didn't know, I was trapped in a cabin in the middle of nowhere for almost two years," she snaps, her body stiffening.

"yes, i know," you say, inhaling deeply. "but I—"

"don't you have to go back to your girlfriend anyway?" she interrupts, glancing at the door and then back at you. she clearly wanted you out.

"no, I don't," you reply, frowning. "is she why you're acting like an idiot?"

she snorts, taking a step forward, her eyes narrowing.

"It's funny how I'm the idiot when you've replaced me with someone else so quickly," you would feel bad thanks to the pain in her voice if it weren't for her absurd words.

"replace you?" you scoff. "she's my girlfriend, shauna."

"and what was I?"

"you were my friend! we were friends."

her face shuts down completely, lips parting as if ready to shout something, but she stops herself. you weren't sure if you agreed with your own words, but it’s too late now.

"i thought you were dead," you say, taking a deep breath to keep your voice steady. shauna, however, seems perfectly fine with letting her voice rise.

"you sure did," she says, shaking her head slightly.

"well, you left me."

"not because I wanted to, you fucking idiot!" she snarls, suddenly pressing her forearm against your collarbones and pushing you backwards. you gasp in surprise as your back hits the cold wall.

"shauna! what are you doing?" you try to push her away, but she’s stronger than you remember and hold you in place.

"do you ever think of me when you kiss her?" she whispers, ignoring your question. her breath is ragged, her chest heaving. she tilts her head slightly, studying your face. then she leans closer, her lips just brushing against yours.

you can hardly make sense of her words, stunned by her sudden change in behavior. your mouth hangs open, but no sound comes out.

"answer me," she growls, pressing her arm harder against you. her jaw clenches, making you yelp, and you immediately whisper a faint 'yes.'

she smirks, crashing her lips into yours. though you hesitated for a moment, you quickly recovered, syncing your movements with her rough rhythm. when you try to pull her closer by the hips, she lets go of your chest, grasping your wrists and pinning them along with you.

the urgent kiss didn't last much longer as she trailed her way down to your jawline with small bites and feral kisses, eventually reaching your neck. in her preferred area, you cry out her name when she sinks her teeth into your skin, drawing blood.

when did she got so into biting?

[raysrays]

Fatal Attraction Chapter Three (NSFW)

18+ MDNI‼️

CW for the entire story: Breeding, Size Difference,Size Kink, Jealousy, Scent Marking, Age Difference, Vaginal Sex, Possessive Behavior, Angst, Twisted, Creampie, Angry Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Hair-pulling, Biting, Master/Pet, Light Dom/sub, Violence, Knotting.

Chapter One, Chapter Two,

Content disclaimer: This story is inspired by the amazing artist @PammyJammy117 on Twitter/X. I in absolutely no way own or claim the idea of the “Cryptid Rengoku” character. Please give credit to the original artist who inspired the story.

(If you want to be on a tag list for up coming chapters just let me know <3)

Sneaking out of a monster's den wasn't how I planned to spend my morning. My body was so sore that walking was nearly unbearable. The only reason I managed to escape was because I noticed Rengoku had a slight hearing problem.

Despite his large, pointed ears, he often asked me to speak up or claimed he couldn't hear what I was saying.

He must have been exhausted from last night too, because he didn't react to my footsteps. This "escape," if you could call it that, was likely a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

I tried to recall everything that had happened, but my mind remained hazy. I remembered the pleasure, the pain, and I remembered him saying something to me, but I was too wrapped up in the moment to grasp his words.

But none of that mattered now. The only thing that did was getting back to Tamayo to explain why I never returned with the firewood.

As I neared the edge of the woods, I could see the camp in the distance. My head started to spin again, and my vision became foggy.

I squinted and saw someone running towards me.

"Y/N, Y/N!" a voice called out.

Is that Yushiro?

That was my last thought before everything went black and my head hit the ground.

I was out.

—————————

When I woke up, the warm light was practically burning into my eyes. I knew exactly where I was.

As I slowly sat up from the bed, I saw Tamayo sitting at a desk in the corner of the room, appearing to take notes.

"You should lie back down. Whatever got you, got you pretty good," she said calmly.

She put down her pen and walked over to me, sitting at the edge of the bed.

"How are you feeling? What hurts?" She gently placed a hand on my forehead.

This was unusual. Tamayo typically gave me the "tough love" treatment, even when I was sick. So why was she being so compassionate now?

“I feel... surprisingly okay.” I moved my body slightly, not feeling nearly as bad as I had when I first made it out of the woods.

She smiled and nodded, pulling out another pen and a pad of paper. “That’s because of the medicine I gave you. You should be back to normal very soon.” Her smile was warm and reassuring.

“Are you feeling well enough to answer some questions? I need you to tell me everything you can remember about what attacked you.” She looked at me with a glimmer of hope in her eyes.

I couldn't tell her about Rengoku. By the time he wakes up, I'm probably already in enough trouble with him as it is. I definitely don’t need to add to that.

I bit my bottom lip slightly as I scanned my body. Bruises and cuts covered my arms and legs, and even more were on my chest, according to Tamayo.

I looked up at her apologetically. “I’m so sorry, Tamayo, but I really can’t remember much. Everything happened so fast.”

She sighed, then her gaze stopped at my neck. “What about that?” She gestured to her own neck. “What happened there?”

I reached up and touched my neck, feeling the outline of teeth marks.

Thinking quickly, I decided to go along with what Tamayo believed. “I remember a little bit. It was large with sharp teeth, and it moved quickly. While I was collecting firewood, it ambushed me. It must have thought it had killed me and ran off.” The lie flowed out smoother than I had expected.

I watched as she scribbled my words on her notepad, making note of the beast’s appearance.

I fed her small snippets of false information about the supposed monster that attacked me. It hurt to lie, especially to someone who had always been so kind and patient with me, but what other choice did I have?

She tucked her pen behind her ear and set down her pad of paper, her gaze now fixed on me.

"Y/N."

"Yes, ma'am?"

"I owe you an apology," she began.

“An apology? For what?”

"Last night, when you didn’t return with the firewood, I grew frustrated. Remembering your reluctance to travel up north with us, I thought you had grown tired of monster hunting and just ran off."

She sighed and shook her head.

"So when Yushiro recommended sending a search party to check on you, I told him to forget about it."

My eyes widened at the implication.

"I’m so sorry, Y/N. If I hadn’t been so dismissive, you probably wouldn’t have had to suffer through the night alone in the woods."

She took my hand, squeezing it gently.

"I’m so sorry. Please forgive my negligence," she said, looking at me with genuine sorrow.

My heart ached seeing her blame herself for my "attack." I wanted to tell her it wasn’t her fault and that her life's work on monsters wasn't a waste.

But I couldn’t, because I’m selfish. Despite how much Rengoku scares me, I have strange feelings for him. I don’t want to see him captured and tested on.

“It’s fine, Tamayo, really. You don’t need to feel sorry,” I said with a gentle smile. “Besides, the medicine you gave me has almost completely taken away the pain. I feel fine now!”

She smiled and pulled her hand back. “Well then, if you’re feeling so much better, you can accompany Yushiro to the next village to gather more supplies.” She stood up and walked back to the desk to gather her paperwork.

And I’m back to work…

“There are some clothes for you over there,” she pointed to a small wardrobe in the corner of the room.

“Okay, thank you.” I cleared my throat slightly.

She nodded and exited the room, shutting the door softly behind her.

As I stood up to get the clothes, a sudden ache started in my stomach, the same nausea I felt when we went up north. The side effects of disobeying a cryptid, disobeying a mate.

He must be awake now.

Maybe running into town wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all. It would keep Rengoku from looking for me. He wouldn’t show his face in town.

I dressed quickly and left the small infirmary room. As I walked by, a few fellow monster hunters gave me only a cursory glance.

Stepping outside, I saw Yushiro standing near the door, absorbed in a list. When I approached, he looked up, his usual scowl replaced by an expression of concern and relief.

As I reached him, he diverted his gaze back to the list, avoiding eye contact.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked softly.

“Yeah, is there a lot we need to get?” I replied.

He started walking, and I fell in step beside him. He handed me the list of supplies Tamayo had given him. I scanned it briefly—mostly food and medicinal herbs.

I handed the list back, and he slipped it into the pocket of his vest. We walked in awkward silence for a moment.

“How are you feeling?” he finally asked.

I glanced at him, but he kept his eyes forward.

“Oh, I’m fine. Thanks for getting me inside and taking care of me,” I said, offering a faint smile.

He didn’t respond.

“That bite looked pretty nasty when I found you,” he said finally, glancing at the bandage on my neck.

“It wasn’t that bad,” I said, trying to downplay it. Reflecting on it, the pain hadn’t been intense—perhaps my body was still in shock, and the adrenaline had dulled the sensation.

We walked in silence until we reached the village. Once there, Yushiro pulled out the list, and we divided the tasks between us to save time.

I was responsible for gathering herbs and bandages, while Yushiro took on the rest. We parted ways, and I headed towards the market.

The market was bustling today, crowded with vendors and shoppers. After being shoved around more than I’d have liked, I finally reached a stall selling medical herbs. I quickly gathered what I needed and paid the elderly woman at the booth, then tucked the small pouch of herbs into my pocket and moved on.

Suddenly, a sharp pain flared in my chest and stomach. It felt like I might collapse. Rengoku’s influence seemed to be intensifying.

He must be really upset that I left. It wasn’t as if I planned on disappearing forever. I intended to return and visit him tonight, to show I could manage both him and my team without issues.

I gasped, clutching my chest as the pain grew more intense. It had never hurt this badly before.

I stumbled into a secluded part of the market, struggling to catch my breath and regain my composure. As I focused on the ground, a shadow fell over me, prompting me to look up.

A tall man stood before me, his muscular build evident through his clothes. When my gaze reached his face, my heart skipped a beat. His yellow and red hair, falling to his shoulders, forked eyebrows, and amber eyes were strikingly familiar. But something about his eyes was different—more intense.

“What are you doing all the way out here, little human?” he asked, smiling down at me.

My breath caught as the realization dawned.

“Rengoku?” I whispered.

He smiled wider, revealing his sharp teeth, and his eyes briefly flashed red despite his now human-like appearance.

My heart raced furiously. Even as a monster, he was alluring, but as a human, he was just as captivating.

He grasped my face, his smile fading into a look of displeasure.

“Why was it, when I woke up, that my human, my mate was gone? Especially after she pledged her loyalty and life to me?” His voice dropped dangerously low.

I was disoriented by how strange this all felt. His voice no longer had the echo I was accustomed to, and the clicking sound I had grown used to had vanished.

Am I hallucinating? Is this some side effect of Tamayo’s medicine?

His grip on my face tightened, jolting me out of my thoughts.

I struggled to find the words under the intensity of his angry gaze.

"I-I'm sorry, Rengoku. I didn't mean to make you come looking for me. Really, I intended to come back as soon as it got dark," I said, smiling nervously.

He tilted my head to the side, examining the bandage on my neck. His eyes turned back to their usual red.

"So, not only does my mate try to escape, but she also hides my mark, my claim," he growled.

He was furious, but I didn’t have time for this. If I didn’t leave now, Yushiro wouldn’t know what happened to me.

I gently lifted my trembling hand to cover his, still holding my face firmly. I needed to calm him down.

"Rengoku, please don't be upset. I had to leave, or no one would have known where I’d gone. They would have searched for me."

Oh, the irony...

He scoffed, releasing my face only to grab my wrist instead.

"They never would have found us. I would never let anyone take you away from me." He pulled me close against his chest, leaning down to whisper in my ear.

"I told you, no matter where you ran, I would always come find you," he murmured, his voice echoing briefly.

I shrank back slightly.

"You're coming back home. There's no point in staying around these humans when your mate has a perfectly fine nest for you," he said, his eyes narrowing.

Before I could respond, I heard someone calling my name.

I turned to see Yushiro approaching with a basket of supplies, his face back to its usual annoyed expression.

Instinctively, I tried to pull my wrist away, but Rengoku's grip tightened painfully. I glanced up at him, his eyes filled with a deadly intensity.

As Yushiro drew nearer, Rengoku pulled me closer. I could see the confusion on Yushiro's face.

"Y/N, who’s this?" Yushiro asked, looking Rengoku up and down.

"Oh... this is just a friend of mine. We were just catching up," I said with an awkward laugh and forced smile.

Rengoku's body tensed beside me. I knew I was in trouble once this was over.

Rengoku's gaze shifted from me to Yushiro, and he practically towered over both of us. I could see Yushiro looking a bit intimidated by his size and presence.

Then, to my surprise, Rengoku's murderous look softened into a kind and friendly smile as he faced Yushiro.

I held my breath as Rengoku extended his hand to Yushiro in a seemingly friendly gesture.

"I'm Kyojuro, Kyojuro Rengoku," he said, his closed-mouth smile almost charming despite the anger radiating from him.

"Yushiro," Yushiro replied reluctantly, shaking Rengoku's hand. He was clearly uncomfortable.

Rengoku smiled as he stepped back, wrapping his arm around my waist, his hand digging into my hip.

"So, Yushiro, how do you know Y/N?" Rengoku asked, his voice calm but his grip on my hip bruising.

Yushiro looked confused but didn’t comment on the physical contact.

"Y/N and I work together. We're here on a supply run," he answered plainly, then furrowed his brows in confusion. "I'm sorry, did you say your name was Kyojuro Rengoku?"

Damn. Of course Yushiro would recognize a cryptid's name.

I quickly jumped in before things could escalate. "As nice as it is to catch up, we should probably get going, right, Yushiro?" I said, pulling the small bag of herbs from my pocket.

"Yeah, we should go," he agreed.

As I started to walk toward Yushiro, Rengoku grabbed my arm, stopping me.

"Y/N, we rarely get time to talk like this. I'm sure your friend wouldn't mind returning without you so we can catch up a bit more," he said sweetly, with a hint of warning in his voice. I had no choice but to comply.

He took the small bag from my hands and tossed it to Yushiro, who quickly caught it.

"You don't mind, right?" Rengoku smiled at Yushiro.

Yushiro looked from me to Rengoku before finally agreeing. "Yeah, it's fine. I'll let Tamayo know you ran into someone you know. She’ll be happy to hear you're not completely isolated," he said, then turned and walked away.

I silently pleaded for him to stay, to not leave me with Rengoku like this. But he vanished into the crowd, leaving me alone with him.

————————

Rengoku remained silent as he dragged me out of the village and into the woods. His anger was palpable, and I was too scared to try and fix what I'd done.

Once we reached a small clearing, he let go of my arm and turned to face me, still in his human form. I should have been terrified, but he looked undeniably good.

"So, we're just two friends catching up, are we?" The usual echo in his voice suddenly returned, and his eyes changed from amber back to their glowing red.

"I didn't mean it like that. What did you want me to say? I wasn't going to expose you right then and there," I defended myself.

He stepped closer, his face angrier now.

"You shouldn't have run off in the first place if you were worried about something like that," he growled.

I bit inside of my lip slightly. I guess he was right in a way, but that wasn't the point.

He suddenly grabbed my jaw, forcing my head to tilt to the side. He ripped the bandage off my neck, revealing his mark on my skin.

Pulling me close, his face inches from mine, he said, "My mate will never cover my mark again. Is that clear?" His echoing voice had a threatening undertone.

I nodded profusely, hoping he'd let go. But he didn't. His red eyes locked onto mine, filled with desire and something else...

"Did I not please you enough, human? Was our binding session not sufficient for you?" he asked, puzzled.

"I suppose not if you were able to get up and walk away without my notice," he growled lowly.

“I’m sorry, Rengoku. I swear, everything that happened today was just a misunderstanding. I was never going to leave for good,” I tried to make it not sound as bad, but it really wasn’t working.

“A misunderstanding, I see,” he said, his tone dark.

“Well then, my sweet little mate, let’s ensure there are no more misunderstandings…” he purred in my ear.

“Wait, what are you—?”

His hand tangled in my hair, pulling my head back to expose my neck.

“This time, I’ll make sure you don’t have enough strength to get up and walk away from me,” he purred, licking up my neck.

I blushed intensely, embarrassed by my position.

“R-Rengoku…” I breathed out shakily.

His hand moved to my throat, squeezing lightly.

“Kyojuro,” he corrected firmly. “Address your mate accordingly. I won’t tell you again.”

I gasped for air.

He didn't squeeze hard enough to restrict my air flow, but it was still painful.

He squeezed harder, his other hand moving between my legs. He began to rub me through my clothes, his movements slow and teasing.

I struggled to breathe, but my body was already reacting to his touch. My hips instinctively bucked towards him, desperate for more friction.

He chuckled at my desperation. "So needy for someone who ran away from me, aren't you?"

My body was trembling with need. My breathing grew labored, and I was finding it harder to hold back.

I needed him, and I needed him now.

He removed his hand from between my legs and released his grip on my throat, allowing me to gasp for air.

Grabbing me by the collar of my shirt, he led me to a nearby tree, shoving me against it roughly.

He quickly tore up my clothes again, leaving me exposed. He then tore off his own clothes, discarding them on the ground.

I stood frozen, taking in the sight before me. I knew he was strong, but this was beyond what I had imagined. He was attractive as a monster, but his physique as a human was just as perfect.

His body was muscular and defined. I felt my core grow wet, and my clit throbbed as I gazed at his naked body.

"Are you ready, mate?" he asked, his eyes glowing bright red.

"Y-yes," I stammered, nervous and excited.

He stepped forward, his lips colliding with mine. I melted into his kiss, his tongue invading my mouth, tasting every inch.

His hands explored my body, groping my breasts, pinching and twisting my nipples.

He broke the kiss, his mouth moving to my neck, biting and sucking on the sensitive skin.

I moaned, enjoying the sensations. His cock, still just as big and thick as I remember twitched, the precum dripping onto the ground.

"You're mine," he growled against my skin.

His hands gripped my thighs, lifting me off the ground. My legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer.

He pressed his cock against my slit, rubbing the tip up and down.

"Do you want me, mate? Tell me how much you want my cock inside you," he purred, his eyes blazing red.

"Please, Kyojuro," I moaned.

"Say it. Say that you belong to me, and only me," he demanded, his voice echoing.

I'm yours, Kyojuro. Only yours," I whimpered.

With a growl, he slammed his cock inside me, his claws digging into my thighs.

I cried out as the pleasure consumed me. His cock was huge, filling me to the brim.

"You feel amazing," he groaned, starting to thrust.

My back arched as he pounded into me, his cock stretching my pussy.

He fucked me hard and fast, his pace brutal and relentless.

I could tell he was taking his anger out on me, the rage he felt when he realized I had escaped. But I didn't care. I needed him just as much as he needed me.

He panted and groaned, his body covered in a sheen of sweat. He was fucking me so hard and fast, I thought I might break.

I screamed out in pleasure, my orgasm approaching.

"Cum for me, mate," he purred.

His cock throbbed inside me, his seed spilling deep inside. The sensation pushed me over the edge, and I came, crying out his name.

He groaned as he continued to thrust, prolonging my pleasure.

“Y/N,” he growled my name into my ear.

“Yes?” I panted softly, still trying to catch my breath as I came down from my high.

He grabbed my chin, pressing his forehead to mine.

“If you ever leave our nest to go off with some other man again, I’ll kill him where he stands.”

His threat made my blood run cold, but I was so lost in the moment, consumed by pleasure, that I didn’t register how sincere he was being.

He finally pulled out, setting me back on the ground. Exhausted and sore, I could barely stand.

He looked down at me, his eyes primal with need. His anger was slowly dissipating, but I knew this wasn’t enough for him. After all the trouble I’d caused, I could tell this was only the beginning.

“We will return to our den now, and we will continue this… bonding.”

I watched as his body shifted back into its usual form. The monster I was used to. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t looking forward to this a little. He bent down and picked me up as if I weighed nothing.

His smile returned, and his ears perked up, but I could tell I wasn’t forgiven. So, I decided to silently agree and hang on to him while he carried me to this “new home” of ours.

Next>>

[wifeofnatasharomanoff]

Sinful Affairs

WARNINGS: Nat has a dick, reader and Nat aren't married but they have a baby, arguing, slight angst, guns/knives, violence, fingering (reader receiving), oral (Nat receiving), daddy kink, breeding kink, degradation, edging, choking, slapping/spanking kink (only a bit) jealousy, possessiveness , fluffy ish at the end

WORDS: 2,779

PAIRING: dark/toxic!mob boss!Nat x f!Reader

A/N: silly little me wanted to write this, i hope you guys have been doing well <3

There it was again, her. The woman you shared many nights with. The woman who couldn't be there for you and the child you had together. But you see her again. You felt your breath catch in your throat. Her red hair was pulled up into a braid. A little boy in her arms. “Natasha. W- what are you doing here? Why are you here?” her lips formed into a sly grin. “Why? Can't I visit my son and my girl?” You glared at her. Her girl? If you were hers, she wouldn't have left you time after time with that dumb little note every morning. ‘Sorry sweetheart, work issues. Had to leave, I'll be back.’ and every time you believed her. You had begged her to stay. To quit her job and live with you and the baby, it's not like she lacked the money for it. She knew you were upset. And that she was the cause of it. “Natasha please just leave.” she sent you a stern look and carefully put down the baby in his crib.

“And why should I listen to you?” she said as she leaned against the wall. “You don't have to. But I want you to.” she seemed unphased by your little comment. She was more humored that you didn't want her here. Or that you attempted to lie in order to get her to leave. “If you aren't going to stay, then there's no point in coming here. You're getting my hopes up, and Alex would know you well enough to remember. Remember that his other parent could care less about him and his mom.” she faked a look of pity as she backed you out of the nursery and into the bedroom.

“You don't realize that if I stay, you two would get hurt. Do you even know how many enemies I've made in my line of work? No. Exactly, so you can't be upset at me for something you don't know.” you scoffed, “oh, so you visiting makes it any less dangerous for us? Nat– you‐ God! I don't even know what I feel when I'm around you.” was that a confession, or were you still fighting? “Well, I'm being careful with my visit times. I don't show up whenever I want to.” so she chose to ignore that last part.

You couldn't tell if you were mad at her or if you wanted to risk it all for one more night with her. So you stayed silent as she brought up a finger under your chin to direct your face to hers. “Natasha– if you stayed here, you would be able to protect us. What if you don't come home for over a week and you show up to find us dead? Hm?” her grip on your face slightly tightened. How could you say something like that? “Detka.. I–” your gaze dances over her features. She accidentally let her insecurities slip, you could tell. Her brows softened, and her eyes were a bit glossed over.

“You what?” she slid her hand from your face and down to your neck. Her fingers hesitated before clasping around your neck and pushing you up against the wall. Her hold was tight but not yet unbearable. You felt your oxygen cut off at some point, making your head go all fuzzy. She was always violent but never over matters like this. When she noticed your hand around her wrist loosen, she stopped. Did she go too far? No. In her mind, she was always right. You gasped for air the second she let you go. “Y/N—” you coughed as you leaned your head against the door.

“D- don't you think you've done enough Nat?” you couldn't bring yourself to look at her. “... What if I marry someone else? Alex wouldn't mind a stepdad or step-mom. At least they'd be there for him—” that was it. She had enough of you by now. You winced as you felt her palm harshly hit your cheek, reddening the side of your face. “Don't you fucking say that you little slut. Alex is perfectly fine with the way things are.” you blinked back some unshed tears, “how do you know that? He's just a baby. He can't even talk yet! Did he tell you that he was okay with all of this? Did he?” she sighed as she shook her head.

You watched her slowly bring a hand up to her pocket and pull out a blade. “Natasha put that down.. fuck– put it down, Nat!” you shouted as you threw the pillows that sat on the bed at her. If anything, it angered her more. “Natasha stop! I- I can call 911. You've been wanted by the police for a few years, isn't that right?” she huffed as she threw you onto the bed with ease. “Please Tash stop!” you cried as you felt her cold touch underneath your shirt. “You aren't marrying anyone. If you do, it'll be me. You're mine. You hear that?” you had to give in. Or else she would've done something to you. “Mhm! I'm yours. I'm all yours! Please Nat stop.” you held your breath as you felt the tip of the knife gently hit your skin.

She's not going to kill you. Right? She has hurt you before, but you doubt that she'd kill you. Or maybe she would. A shaky gasp escaped your mouth when you sensed the head of a gun underneath your chin. It can't be loaded. Can it? You whimper as she harshly tugged on your hair and pressed the gun harder against your skin. “Natasha! Nat.. please t–that's empty, right?” her lips grew into a slight smirk as she lowered the gun and pulled the trigger, aiming for the wall. You felt your blood go cold, it was loaded. She was going to kill you, wasn't she? That's what she wanted you to think. The second you heard the shot, your body slightly jumped. The knife that she held against your stomach lightly touched your skin.

“Natasha please. Let me go. I won't marry anyone, okay? Nat, we have a son– you aren't home half of the time! I have to take care of him. Please, Natasha.” you were thankful she put the gun away, but she still had the knife pressed against your body. “Thank you. I'm sorry, I- I shouldn't have said I'd marry someone else. I'm sorry Natasha—” “turn around.” you look up at her with a confused look, “what?” without letting you process any of what she said, Natasha grabbed you by the waist and flipped you over. You heard the knife clatter on the floor as she threw it onto the ground. You lay flat on your stomach on the bed. “God, you're so fucking annoying.” she quickly slid your pants off, leaving your legs exposed. “Natasha..” you stopped yourself from complaining. She was already upset, you didn't want to upset her more.

You felt her palm roughly hit your ass, causing you to slightly wince. “Count for me, kotenok.” she whispered as she sent another smack to your skin, “o-one.” she grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled your face off the mattress. “Recount for daddy sweetheart.” you nodded as her hand hit your ass once more, “one.. t-thank you daddy.”

She traced the hem of your panties, chuckling slightly when her finger came in contact with damp fabric. “You got all worked up over that?” you didn't answer her. She slid her fingers against your inner thighs, relentlessly teasing your sensitive areas. “N-Natasha I..” she tore off your panties and tossed them on the floor. Your words get cut short with a muffled moan as she rubbed her fingers through your slippery folds, slamming your face against the mattress. “mmnh..” her touch felt like fire on skin, burning you up. “Tell me.. do you want daddy to fuck you?” you felt her press her fingers on your slit, gathering your slick and spreading it all over your cunt. “Nata– daddy please.” you didn't know if you were begging her to stop or to keep going.

“Get up.” you bit back a whimper and sat up on the bed. You watched patiently as her hands went to discard her jeans and boxers. Your eyes go straight to look at her thick, hardened dick. “Well?” you turn your gaze away from her. “Are you that dumb?” she sighed as she gripped onto your cheeks, forcing your mouth open. She pulled your face closer to her length and shoved a few inches inside your mouth. “mmph—” she buried her hand into your hair and pushed further into your mouth. “Be a good little bitch and suck.” you rolled your eyes and flattened your tongue along the veins of her cock.

She guided your head around her dick, shoving it deeper into your mouth. You slightly gagged as her tip hit the back of your throat. “Take it all in, baby girl.” her breath labored as your tongue teases and sucks her length. “Fuck..” her grip on your hair tightened as you sucked her cock vigorously, drool dripping down from your chin.

You didn't want this. She didn't care for you, but it felt so natural like it was meant to be. Like you were meant to be hers. But she wasn't yours, was she? She was yours too. You just didn't know. She didn't want you to know.

Your head bobbed up and down rapidly as her dick popped in and out of your mouth. “oh God!” her head threw back as you sucked harder on her girthy length, sinking it deeper and deeper into your mouth. It was then that she thrust her hips forward and her tip pushed back into your throat, causing you to gasp for air as you choked on her length and tears to spill from your eyes. “mmnph!” she didn't stop fucking your throat, her hand buried into your hair as she forced her cock deep into your mouth. “Fuck– I'm gonna cum in that slutty little mouth of yours. Take it.” you hear her say, and you felt two ropes of thick cum release into your mouth.

She pulled her length out of your mouth and brought her hand down to her dick and began pumping. “Close your eyes, sweetheart.” you could tell from her voice that she was close, you closed your eyes shut as her cum sputtered all over your face. “Shit..” she moaned softly as she came on your face. She lowered her hand down to grip your face, “daddy's sorry for having to ruin such a..” she examined your fucked out face, her cum and your saliva dribbling down the corners of your lips, tears rolling down your blushed cheeks. “..pretty little face.” she chuckled as she tapped her palm against your warm cheek.

“Get on the bed.” you complied and got up with shaky legs and laid on the bed. Natasha walked over to the edge of the bed and pulled your legs around hers. “What do you want daddy to do kotenok?” you were about to respond, but then she slipped her hand in between your thighs, making you let out an embarrassingly loud whimper. “Daddy please.” she raised her brow up and slid her thumb against your glistening slit. A cocky smirk played on her lips as she watched your hole twitch, and your body squirm underneath her. You let out a sigh of relief as she inserted 2 fingers inside of your pussy. She quickly pumped her digits in and out of your tight cunt, stretching your walls out for her cock. “Daddy– oh my God, I'm so close!” she pulled her fingers out of your cunt, “whores like you don't get to cum this soon.” you whined as you felt her leave you empty.

She grabbed the knife and swiftly sliced off your blouse, along with your bra, leaving your chest and stomach uncovered. “Natasha put that down. Please, please, I'll do anything.” you chanted pleas and begged her to drop the knife as she gently stroked your bare skin with the metal of the knife. “Nat..” you whimpered in fear as she poked your stomach lightly with the tip of the blade. She sighed as she threw the knife onto the floor.

“Shut up.” she muttered as she roughly held onto your hips and pushed a few inches of her length inside of your aching cunt. “oh daddy fuck!” she rocked your hips back and forth whilst she shoved deeper into you, sliding inside inch by inch. “How are you still so– fucking tight after all of that?” she grunted as she struggled to fit her cock entirely into you. “mm! You're so big daddy..” she thrusted deeper inside of you, earning a moan from your mouth as it hit your sweet spot. “oh fuck– right there daddy! You feel so good inside of me..” you hesitantly grip onto her muscular shoulders as you cry for more. She leaned down to press her lips against yours, pulling you in for a slow kiss. “You drive me crazy detka..” she mumbles breathlessly against your lips. You moan into the kiss as she thrusts deeper inside of you. “nmh.. Natty!” you gasp softly as she snapped her hips upwards.

“Are you close?” she grunted as she fucked harder into you. “..y-yes.” you were surprised that you were able to respond as your nails dug deep into her skin, leaving crescent shaped marks. “Beg. Tell me why you deserve to cum.” you mentally scoffed at her, “daddy please. Please I need to so badly.. please- please- please!” she snickered at your desperation. “Fine. Do it now it you won't get to cum later.” she said as she continued pounding away at you. You scream in pleasurement as you came all over her cock, your thighs trembling as your nails scratching at her back and shoulders, hard enough to draw blood.

She continued her movements on your cunt as she rolled her hips against yours, “ngh– daddy stop..” you muttered, all out of breath. “oh.. sweetheart, I'm not stopping till I finish inside of you.” she seemed unbothered by your whines and complains, her strong hands gripping your hips tightly to keep you from moving away. “N-Natasha please.” despite your attempts of getting her to stop, the whorish moans never stopped leaving your mouth. You clawed at her back as her tip pushed up to your cervix, “Gonna cum inside you baby.. fill you all up.” she groaned when she felt your spongey walls clench around her cock. She slightly smiled as she leaned down to pepper light, feathery kisses all over your stomach. “mhm..” you were at the point where you couldn't speak properly, everything seemed like a blur, all your words came out incoherently.

Her breaths became more strained and heavy as she fucked vigorously into you, “tell.. tell me you want me to cum inside you.” she breathed out, clear sweat glistened on her forehead. “I wan’ you to.. ” your mind hazy as you barely finished speaking. “You too tired to speak detka?” she chuckled, “no– Nat cum inside me.. please.” her lips curled into a small smile. “Whatever you say moya lyubov.” she said as she came deep inside of your cunt, painting your velvety walls white. “Fucking hell..” she panted as she laid against your limp body. “Natasha pull out.. ’m too sensitive.” she placed her lips over yours, softly kissing your plump lips. “Okay..” she whispered against your mouth as she slowly pulled out.

“Natasha..” you mumbled out her name, “yeah?” you weakly grasped her hand. “Stay.” her gaze softened as she lightly squeezed your hand. “Detka you know I can't.” tears pricked your eyes, “stay. Natasha, please.” you could hear your voice cracking as you spoke. “Please.. darling, I need you home. We need you home.” she wasn't going to stay. She'd leave like always. Right? She wouldn't listen to you. The thoughts spun in your head, “okay. Just this once.” your hand fell from hers. She was going to stay. “I can't let them find you two.” you furrowed your brows, “who?” she smiled and kissed your forehead. “Nothing. Go to sleep baby.” she dodged your question, but you were too tired to argue with her.

“Lay with me?” she nodded and lies down next to you. Snuggling her chin in the crook of your neck, “I love you.” she said as she pecked your cheek. A smile appeared on your lips when you felt a squeeze at your waist. “I love you too.”

[uranometrias]

don't forget to kiss me, jennifer jareau x fem! reader

★☆

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summary: in which jj has been into you for as long as she can remember. from your first day on the team she'd found herself utterly enraptured. she had partially assumed her adoration for you was merely a result of your personality, and the fact you were closest in age. seven years later, and she finds that her feelings towards you are a bit more complicated than she thought. which is why you being angry with her is even more gut-wrenching. pairing: jennifer jareau! x bau! female reader category: angst, unresolved content warnings: violence (reader smacks jj) love confessions. jj is kind of... self-destructively in love with you... you're disastrously oblivious + could potentially be unaware of your own feelings for jj. this is my first time writing for her, so fingers crossed her characterization lines up w/ canon. if not ? sue me :( author's note. this is my first time writing for jj, im so nervous about it. this can be read as an alternate universe for “you’re still a traitor” it picks up about a month or so after the court proceedings and reader has been ignoring jj , so she shows up at her house! idk why when writing for criminal minds, i always write jj with underlying feelings for reader… maybe because i actually like her a lot more than i initially thought (I’ve been a jj hater for years so this is a little jarring ) kinda spurred on by glue song xx unhappy ending, but room for a part 2

You hadn't been expecting any company, so when you heard a faint knock at the front door of your apartment, you were a bit confused. You were wearing a tank and boy-shorts, the weather in Quantico picking up to unbearable temperatures. It was impossible to focus with too many layers, and you supposed your choice in loungewear was a major sign that you were off duty. After the week you'd had, you'd become a bit of a recluse. Maybe "a bit" was underselling it.

You had wanted to be excited, happy, relieved even, that Emily was back. The team could be whole again, but your anxiety hadn't allowed you to. Instead, you'd found yourself feeling betrayed, angry, hurt. You lashed out at everyone, you didn't want to be bothered. You got to work earlier so that you could be the first to leave when evening came. When you were out on a case, you stayed glued to Rossi, Derek or Spencer. You couldn't meet the eye of the others.

Hotch, who had one point been your favorite person on the team, was now someone you avoided. There was some saying out there about 'never meeting your heroes', you felt that with this life changing reunion this quote had managed to sum up your life. You'd held him to such high regard, and had never expected him to lie to you. But he had, he'd done it without pause. And somehow he'd felt like the only person he needed to share this with was JJ.

That stung a little bit more. JJ was supposed to be your best friend. Even while she'd been gone, away working at the Pentagon, she'd been your rock. You couldn't count on your fingers and toes the amount of nights you'd spent crying your eyes out over the perceived loss while JJ combed her fingers through your hair and promised that 'everything would be alright.' In the grand scheme of things you assumed this eventual end was what she'd meant by that.

She had expected you to be okay. They had expected things to be normal, but they couldn't. After you'd been called into court to talk about the way things went down you'd become more of a ghost around the office. You had transfer papers hidden at your desk, and a ticking clock in the back of your mind. Maybe you were going overboard, being childish and stubborn, but you couldn't find it in you to care. How could you be on a team with people who lied.

After everything you'd seen, everything you'd been through together, they'd still chosen to lie. They'd kept you in the dark, because they thought they knew what was best for you. How were they any different from the higher ups that were constantly making decisions that put the entire team at risk? They weren't, and that's what sucked. You remembered when you'd confronted them with your feelings, they'd tried to pacify you with reminders of Emily's safety.

Somehow the fact that in their heads your grief was of little concern in comparison to Emily hurt the worst. You couldn't seem to understand the secrecy... especially since in the end, Emily wouldn't have managed to take down Doyle for good without you all. It felt like a waste of time, and when you'd placed your paperwork for a leave of absence on Hotch's desk, he hadn't had the guts to say anything. No one had said a word, they'd let you leave.

If it had been anyone else the calvary would've been out, but here you were on day ten of the longest break you'd had since you'd joined the bureau, and the only thing you had that proved you were missed were your unopened text messages from Penelope and Spencer. Penelope had been relaying messages for both her and Derek. Spencer had made you promise not to quit without saying goodbye. You knew how important it was to him, so if it came down to it, you'd give him that.

Still, your unwelcomed guest has grown impatient. They tap against your door a bit more impatiently, and you're climbing off your couch. Your slippers squeak with every step, and it's a bit funny, lightens your mood just barely. This hardly lasts, because the second you're swinging the door open your mood is dropping. Jennifer Jareau stands before you, looking more worse for wear than you'd seen her. She looks relieved when your eyes connect, you suddenly feel faint.

"Y/N." she always has this way of saying your name, like she's learning how to breathe for the first time, and before it was a symbol of your bond. "I'm sorry to show up like this, I didn't think you'd answer if I tried to call you." she admits, and you don't know how you look. You can't tell if she's receiving a bitter glare or something of the sort. All you know is how you feel. You feel like you're suffocating, like it's suddenly too hot. You feel like your clothes are too tight.

JJ is the one doing this to you. You're certain that's why you take a step backwards. She hasn't been at the profiling game long enough to mask the way you'd outrightly rejected her. "Why are you here?" you demand, and she crinkles her nose, almost like she's trying to keep from sneezing or something along the same lines. She honestly hadn't thought much of what she'd say. It had been almost two weeks since anyone had seen you, and she was going crazy.

"I just-" she exhales shakily, and you're about two seconds away from slamming the door in her face. "I wanted to see you." she admits, and you're unfazed, and visibly unimpressed. She'd waited almost two weeks, you were happy her guilt was eating her up. "No one's heard anything from you.... I just wanted to make sure that you were alright." she adds, and you take note of how she shuffles from foot to foot, nervous eyes jumping from one side of your face to the other.

She looks so unlike herself, not quite as bold and confident as you were used to. It's off putting, more than that though, it's a little suspicious all things considered.

"I'm fine." you insist, and you don't try to take some of the sharpness from your words. JJ's blue eyes are swimming with more emotions than you care to count in the moment. They're glassy, surrounded in dark circles and bags, she hadn't been sleeping. You hoped that wasn't on account of you, because in your current position you couldn't afford to be moved by her guilt. "And that could've been a text." you admit, and JJ winces. The drive from her place to yours was well over thirty minutes. She'd wasted her time.

"Are you going to hate me forever?" she asks, and you're at least offered the peace that comes with not finding anger in her tone. You were happy that at least she wouldn't be trying to make you feel bad for being angry. You don't know how to respond, because you honestly didn't know. You didn't know why you were so torn up about this, but you were. You couldn't look at her and pretend everything was okay, you couldn't go back to how things were before.

"Maybe." you mumble under your breath, and JJ looks so crushed. That manages to tug at your heart strings, you'd always been weak.

JJ's suddenly shuffling, digging through her bag. "Is that why you never said anything?" she asks, and she's holding your completed transfer application out towards you. It takes a moment for it to register, and you want to cower behind your door. Her gaze is so sharp, so crystalline like she was looking right through you. "Y/N..." and she says your name like she's the one who's been betrayed.

"You went through my stuff?" you counter, veering the subject off of your decision, and putting the focus back on her. "Bad way to go about regaining trust there, Jennifer." you say, and she flinches. You'd known one another for years, and you'd never called her Jennifer. You'd been calling her Jaige since you first became friends, what she wouldn't give to hear you call her that now. "I don't owe you an explanation." you add crossly, snatching the paperwork from her.

"Maybe not, but you owe it to Hotch." she argues like the know-it-all and little kiss ass that she's always been. "You owe it to the rest of the team." she adds a bit more gruffly, and you want to laugh at the hypocrisy. "You can't just spring this on them blind. If you're gonna run away at least have the guts to own up to it." she lectures, and you want to hit her, maybe grab her by her throat and shake her from side to side. "Instead of hiding out in your house like a child."

She gasps when you hit her, you think that you gasp too. You can't tell though, not with all the blood rushing to your head. You feel like your ears are clogged, and your eyes are wide, surprised at yourself. JJ's head is cocked to the side, cheek reddening as she gingerly clutches it. "JJ." and she supposes it's sort of a win. You weren't calling her Jennifer or Agent Jareau anymore. But her face stings, and it's starting to throb, and she thinks that she may burst into tears.

"It's okay." she says, because it kind of is. She was stupid in that way, willing to do whatever it took to get you back. Even at her own self destruction, and she supposed that's why she'd waited almost fourteen days to come see you. "Y/N/N, hey, it's okay..." she promises, and now it's your turn to feel guilty. There's this knot in your gut that pinches and twists and tightens. It steals your breath and makes you want to run and hide in your bedroom.

"I'm so sorry." You sputter, and your eyes are stuck wide open.

It's a good sign that you can apologize. Lucky you, you weren't as numb as you thought. JJ was still in your heart, maybe that meant Hotch and Emily were too. "I didn't mean to-" and you reach out for her, fingers ghosting just barely over where her cheek was starting to welt. You retract your hand at the last second though, you hadn't expected to actually hit her. "JJ, I'm so sorry." you reiterate, shuffling backwards, mostly so she doesn't touch you.

"It's okay." and you think maybe her ability to forgive you so easily is partially why you snap the way you do.

"No it's not!" you exclaim. "Nothing about this is okay, JJ." she jumps a bit at your tone, eyes flitting down the hallway. It was still vacant for now, which was good. "And just because you choose to forgive me quickly does not mean, I'm obligated to get over this now." you remind her as she pouts at you. She didn't understand why you were choosing not to forgive her. It didn't make any sense, it wasn't like she'd intentionally tried to hurt you. She hadn't had a choice.

"That's not fair." she exclaims, and now it's her turn to get aggravated.

"No, it isn't." you agree. "But, guess what JJ, it's my choice." the reminder makes JJ's face sour. Her heart though chooses

"I don't have to forgive you, especially when you haven't even actually told me why you're sorry. I don't want some apology that's just a means to keep you from feeling guilty about the fact that you fucked up, and you betrayed me." and it certainly sounds melodramatic. JJ's eyes are instantly rolling, and you feel a bit bad for your neighbors.

"You're treating this like it was some personal vindictive decision we decided to make." she counters. "It wasn't about you." she reiterates. "It wasn't about any of us." her voice raises just slightly. "It was about Emily." she sneers, "Do you remember her? Our friend." she emphasizes. "We did what we thought was best, Emily wasn't safe as long as Doyle was on the run, we wanted to minimize any chance of an attack." JJ proceeds. "We did what we had to for her." she adds.

"Don't you think we would've understood? We're supposed to be a family, JJ." you shoot back, and JJ's letting out an agitated sigh.

"We are a family."

"Give me a break." you're checked out of the conversation now, and you wonder how quickly you can shut the door in her face.

"What are you actually angry with me about, Y/N?" JJ presses. "I saw you that first day

You're telling me you're willing to throw away all your years at the bureau, all your years on this team, because of a decision that was out of our control?" she says, and she looks so disgusted at the thought. Maybe she was, it felt like the cowardly thing to do. Run away with your tail tucked between your legs instead of owning up to your feelings.

"I trusted you, JJ." you shout. "There's nothing deeper beneath the surface then that." JJ's eyes widen a bit at your outburst. "You watched me grieve for seven months. All while you got to sleep peacefully at night, because you knew the whole time that you hadn't really lost your friend. To you there was always an end to this, a day where Emily would be back, so not being able to see her for a little while doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things." you add.

"Y/N..." she begins and you shake your head.

"I think you should leave, I don't know why you came here." you mumble, and your hands on the door, ready to shut it in her face.

"Because I hate this." she answers sternly, voice raising just slightly. "And I'm tired of pretending that I don't." she emphasizes as your mood seems to worsen. "I-" she takes in a sharp breath. "I miss you, okay?" she exclaims. "I just want you to hear me out... for one second, and then I'll back off." she insists. "I'll leave you alone, and I'll accept that you'll never forgive me, but just... give me the chance to explain." you don't like to see JJ begging. It seems wildly out of character.

You think that's why you give her the chance. You nod your head stiffly, and she visibly relaxes, exhaling a shuddered breath.

"You have-" and her hands curl up into tight fists. "You have no idea how much I wanted to tell you." she exclaims, and you don't hold back with the visibly unimpressed look that crosses your face. "It's true." she deadpans forcibly. "And I know you can take care of yourself, you've been doing this profiling thing a lot longer than I have... but I couldn't rationalize putting you in harm's way, okay? I was trying to protect you." she explains, and she sounds desperate.

"I didn't ask you to do that." you shoot back instantly.

"That's the point, you never have to ask me." she cuts you off abruptly. "You'd never have to ask me to take care of you." and you note the way her turn-of-phrase has changed just slightly. "It's not something that I even have to think about doing, I just do it." she proceeds, and you blink a bit harshly, hand immediately moving to drag against your eye. You're sure on the outside it makes you look even more disengaged from the conversation.

You are listening though.

"I have known you for seven years-" her voice cracks, words slurring just slightly as she nervously gestures with her hands. Her eyes are glassy, but she still hasn't cried, you think that's just a part of who JJ is. Strong emotionally, unable to really let herself feel anything, she never wanted to look weak. You'd never expected such a front with you, even now when you were at odds, but here you were. "And-" she chokes on a breath, and none of your profiling skills seem to allow you to read between the lines. She would just have to spell it out.

She grows more anxious the longer you stare at her with an dry sort of expression. "And I've loved you for all seven of them." she finally blurts it out, and you feel it when a shiver snakes its way down your spine. "I just kept thinking about Doyle, and what he was capable of-" she proceeds to jump right over the confession. "I don't know how to be normal about you..." and it's lighthearted, it makes your lips twitch just slightly. "You're my best friend." she continues.

"And sometimes I just can't- I can't think straight... I go into this place where the only thing that ever matters is-" and her eyes widen just slightly before she's backpedaling. "I want to keep you safe, always." she insists. "You're my priority, you always have been, and I don't know what it'll take for you to trust me again, but I'm asking you to remember who I've always been to you, okay?" and her words are starting to lump together as she begins to speak much quicker.

You resist the urge to place a hand on her shoulder.

"And-and I just want you to ask yourself if I would ever do anything to hurt you deliberately." and you know, of course that she wouldn't. She hadn't. "Because I know that hurting you is the last thing I'd ever want to do. You purse your lips some, body leaning sideways as you press against the doorframe. You had a lot of thoughts swirling around your head, and many a feeling revving up in your chest. "I'm not good at this stuff." she admits, and of course you know that as well.

"But I'm asking you to let me make it up to you, I'm asking you to forgive me, and to believe that I only did what I did, because I was scared that you finding out about Emily would leave you open to danger." she pries. "I didn't think I had many options..." and her arms swing out, palms smacking against her thighs. She takes a breath that makes her chest heave. "I'm sorry that I hurt you, Y/N/N. I am so sorry." and she's trying to slow down her heartbeat.

Silence befalls the hallway immediately after, all you can really hear is JJ's booming heartbeat. She looks a bit crestfallen, and her face crumples up in that way that lets you know she's definitely about to cry. Still, JJ was the strongest woman that you knew, and you knew that no matter what, she'd wait until she was alone before she ever let you see her cry. She breathes in deep, back straightening as she fixes her posture just slightly. "I understand." and she curls her nose.

"I'm sorry for showing up like this." and she gestures to the space in between you both. "It wont happen again." she says it like a promise. "Bye, Y/N." her voice has grown a tad more glum, but you think you love her more because she doesn't beg.

"Bye, Jaige." and her chest fluttering at the nickname is a huge betrayal. Still, she couldn't deny how strongly she felt for you, even as you were crushing her heart in your hands. She watches as you stand back upright, stepping back into your apartment before you gently let the door shut. She gasps when the lock slips into place, and it's then that she allows herself the moment to shed a tear.

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"Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes." Derek's beaming at you, pretty teeth almost glistening underneath the shabby bullpen lights. It had been two days since JJ had shown up at your house, two days that had given you ample opportunity to think and reel in all your emotions. You held two cups of coffee in your hands, you supposed it could count as a peace offering. A truce declaration if you needed to label it as something. The aroma was pleasant and definitely calming.

"You look good, sweetheart." and there's no flirting beneath his words. He genuinely looks pleased with the fact, and you're grateful.

Derek Morgan was as sweet a friend as any, and despite his macho-manly outer shell, he'd treated you like kin from the day you started in the unit. He didn't smother you or hover over you, he let you be exactly who you were, but never failed to watch your back.

"I feel good." you admit, and you let out a quiet breath. "I'm glad to be back." you add a second after, and you're placing your coffees down long enough to wrap him a hug. It's needed, the comfort of your big brother, who's immediately scooping you into his arms. He squeezes like he's worried you'll disappear the second he lets you go, and you can only imagine that word had spread about your desire to step down from the unit. "I missed you, Der." you admit with a quiet huff, and Derek bends his chin to plant a kiss on your forehead.

"And I missed you, but I'm glad that you got what you needed." he then leans back, arms resting on your shoulders. "You did get all that you needed, didn't you?" he questions, and your head nods. "Good. This place isn't the same without you, and it'll do it some good to have you back." he purses his lips, because he's serious, but the desire to grin is still so prevalent. "Make sure you go see Garcia, she'll have a conniption and kick both our asses if she finds out you're making rounds, and I didn't tell her." he says, and you grin.

"That's my next stop, I just need to give something to JJ." you say quietly, and Derek's got this know-it-all expression on his face.

"Certainly not that coffee you've placed on my desk?" he asks, and you let out a quiet giggle. "Because once it hits my desk, it's finder's property." he teases as your eyes roll. "You know that." and he's mainly joking, and you appreciate it. It reminds you so much of how things were before, it takes away all the first-day-back jitters you'd been dealing with since you'd woken up and decided you were coming back. Derek always seemed to know exactly what to do.

"You didn't find anything, smart guy." you huff. "But, since I love you so much, why don't you just take this one." and you gift him the one that was originally meant for you. "Taste and be astonished, sir." and he takes the scalding paper cup from your hand, and brings it up to his nose to take in a sniff of the cinnamony beverage. "Just taste it." you huff, and he chuckles, free hand raising in surrender, as he brings it up to his mouth. The first sip like clockwork has him groaning.

You didn't consider yourself a caffeine connoisseur for nothing.

"You are an angel." he compliments, and you glow.

"I aim to please." you retort with a wink, and you look around the bullpen in search of the blonde profiler. "Have you seen Jaige?" you ask as Derek's head nods, taking another indulgent sip of the drink he'd manifested.

"She might be in with Hotch." he shrugs. "I told you things were different without you, little bit." and you resist the urge to frown. "He'll want to know you're back anyway though, right?" he continues, and you're immediately nodding your head in agreement.

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

"I'm always right."

"Just shut up and drink your coffee." with that you're grasping the other cup in your hand, ignoring the way Derek's chuckle chases after you. You're not quite sure you're ready to face your boss, and despite how vacant the bullpen remained (and you were nearly forty minutes early), you knew eventually you'd have to face Emily too. You wondered if there was still time to change your mind and go back home. You don't have the time to decide either way, because the second you've climbed the ramp, you're met with the sight of Dave.

"The prodigal daughter's returned." he expresses, hands extended out as if he hoped you would hug him. Your face feels a bit warm, but you're ecstatic as you take the four short steps towards him. You use one hand to loop it around his side, head leaning against his shoulder as he hugs you just as tightly as Derek had. "I'm glad that you're back." he says, and there's this undertone that often lied beneath Rossi's words. "Everyone will be." he seems to finish his thought directly after, and you're hopeful that the same can be said for you.

"I hope so." you admit, and you offer a small smile. "How have you been?" you question politely, not really sure how to go about getting your groove back.

"I've been good." he replies with a content sort of smile. "The bad guys don't ever seem to stop, but I'm good." he answers and you grimace just slightly. "I'm much more interested to know how you are though." he expresses, before he raises an eyebrow. "JJ came back to work with some very interesting news about your future here at the bureau." he says, and he lowers his voice, which you think is indicative of something. Maybe that she hadn't blabbed to the entire team, and instead had only mentioned it to Dave.

"That sounds like JJ." you reply with a huff. "I'm good, I'm back... I think that's what matters most, isn't it?" you question and Dave scrutinizes you for a moment, but nods.

"Yes, I'd agree." he replies, and you relax a bit. "Thirsty?" he looks down at the cup in your hand, and you blanche.

"Uh-" you look towards Hotch's door. "It's for JJ... Derek said he thinks she's in with Hotch." and you nod your head towards it. Dave offers you a contemplative sort of look, you don't understand why. He then gives you a small smile, almost one of understanding.

"Then I won't hold you any longer," he promises, and you relax. "I'm glad you're back, Y/N." Dave finishes, and you beam, feeling a bit better about your decision. He leaves you with that, heading back into his office, as you take the few short steps from his office to Hotch's. It seems like things are working in your favor, the second you're raising an arm to knock, the door is swinging open. You're met with the sight of blue-eyed JJ looking back at you and you gasp.

You instinctively take a small step backwards, as she stares at you in surprise. "Y/N/N?" she questions, and that seems to garner Hotch's attention. The older man's focus being drawn towards the door as well. "What are you doing here?" JJ asks, and your mouth feels incredibly dry. All you can really do is push your hand forward, cup of coffee resting against JJ's chest. She's quick to look down at the beverage that was steadily cooling.

It takes her a second to garner the focus to grasp it in her hand, fingers brushing against yours. "Good morning." you slur out, and then you're motioning to the coffee in her hand. "This is for you." you proceed, and JJ's eyes are back on the cup, perfect brows pushing together. "C-Can we talk?" you shift from one foot to the other, not quite nervous, but definitely apprehensive and unsure. "Just for a second?" you question, and she's opening her mouth to respond.

"Uh, Y/N." it's Hotch's voice that pulls you both from what could have been a moment. "Can I see you for a moment?" he questions, and JJ's bottom lip is disappearing, front teeth just lightly pressing into it as you both realize that you don't have time to unpack the last conversation you'd had. You nod your head slightly, walls as high as the ceiling as the air around the both of you seems to grow frigid. You don't look at her, and she finds herself more confused than ever.

You step into Hotch's office, and let the door click shut behind you. JJ holds the cup of coffee in her hand, and her mind reels. Was this it? Were you here to step down? Were you about to make the choice that would change the unit's trajectory forever? She doesn't want to wait around to find out, instead she's being pulled towards Emily, who's walking through the elevator with Spencer on her heels.

"Oh, hey! Is that for me?" Emily's teasing, hand held out for the coffee that JJ feels the need to tighten her grip on.

"Uh, no." she denies sternly. "This is-" and she looks down at it, takes in the way the side is scribbled over with that nickname you'd created just for her. 'Jaige', there was no heart, no other note that would be indicative of what your motives were. But the 'Jaige' said a lot, maybe you had started to forgive her, maybe her words had actually meant something. Even if she'd poured her heart out, and you'd stared back at her like it meant nothing. She ignores that last part though.

Maybe she does it because she's secretly a masochist.

Maybe she thinks she deserves it.

"Y/N got this for me." she finally says it, and Emily's eyes are shocked. Spencer, who was gearing up to offer a greeting seems to stop in his tracks at the mention of you. "Yeah, she showed up this morning... and she gave me this." JJ explains, her eyes turning towards the shadowy, looming, darkness that seemed to sit outside Hotch's office as the two of you discussed God knows what. "She's here." she breathes this out, and Emily's head is tipped a bit to the side.

"That a good thing, isn't it?" she treads lightly and slowly. Gauging JJ's reactions, she couldn't deny her slight annoyance towards you. JJ hadn't been shy about her guilt, about the feelings she harbored that you had so eloquently ignored. She knew that you were handling things in your own time, but JJ deserved better than that, right? She didn't deserve to be blamed for something like this.

"I guess we'll see." JJ retorts, lips pursing together.

"Y/N is here?" Spencer questions, eyes still wide and bright, clearly unfazed by the inner turmoil JJ was currently dealing with.

"Yeah, she's in with Hotch." JJ replies as Spencer's face seems to glow, a newfound vigor to his look as he smiles slightly. Spencer says something about going to see Penelope before he takes his leave, JJ and Emily suddenly left alone. JJ heaves, hand clenching around the cup for a moment. It's warmth was far from blistering, but it would still be hot enough to wake her up a bit. For some reason though she's not so keen on drinking it anymore.

"Hey, are you okay?" Emily questions and JJ nods her head. "You know you can always tell me if you aren't." the raven haired woman adds a moment later. "I know things between you have been kind of weird, and that's partially my fault-" JJ's immediately holding a hand up to cut Emily's rant short.

"It wasn't your fault." she deadpans. "I chose to keep it a secret. I did it because I understood the importance of discretion, even if she can't." and she's a bit exasperated, mostly just tired of all of it. "I'll be in my office." and then she's taking her leave, grateful for the fact that despite her year away at the pentagon, she was lucky enough to come back to her own space, instead of being delegated to the open space of the bullpen with the rest of the team.

When she reaches her office, she sets the coffee cup down, moving to sit in her chair as she prepared to start her day. She hardly has the chance to get comfortable, because she's quickly getting a notification from her cellphone with a message from Penelope asking her to come to her lair. She huffs, feeling the early beginnings of a migraine forming. This time when she grabs hold of the coffee cup it's to toss it into the trashcan on her way back out the door.

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"Hey." you look up, a bit surprised to be getting approached by Emily. She looks a bit contemplative, but polite, sweet as always. After your long talk with Hotch, you'd been trying your best to get back into the swing of things. There hadn't been a call for a case, so instead everyone was catching up on paperwork. You'd been immediately cornered by Spencer, who was visibly overjoyed to see that you were back at work. He'd even surprised you with a hug that managed to be surprisingly mood lifting. But you hadn't run into Emily.

You also hadn't managed to run into JJ either.

"Oh, hey." you say, and you think back on Hotch's words, about the severity of Emily's case. He'd even tried to school you a bit on the real nature of Doyle's crimes, you supposed that was his way of expressing just how pertinent it had been to keep Emily safe. You tap your nails against your desk. "What can I do for you?" and it's a bit formal, but it's still taking some getting used to, being this close to Emily, who nearly eight months ago you'd believed to be dead.

"Nothing." she replies, "I just wanted to know if I could talk to you?" and she looks a bit hopeful, but you also know Emily was a thinker, you wouldn't be surprised in the slightest if she had premeditated this whole conversation. "It will only take a second." she adds as if recognizing the discomfort on your face.

"Uh, yeah... sure." you agree, albeit reluctantly. You knew full well the unit would not be able to function with you choosing to behave like a brat. You'd made the choice to come back, which meant that moving forward with every member of the team was important. You move to stand up, and Emily's holding a hand out to stop you.

"No, please." she gestures back to your seat. "Sit." she instructs, and you listen, dropping back into your office chair. "Look, we're all real happy that you're back." she begins, and you feel a bit awkward. Mostly because it's all you've been hearing all day, similar sentiments from all the current members of the Behavioral Analysis Unit. Derek, Hotch, Spencer, Penelope, Rossi, and now Emily. It served to only make you feel more guilty for seemingly throwing the world's biggest tantrum over the last four weeks.

"Thanks, Em." you reply, and she offers you a ghost of a smile.

"I don't know how long it'll take for things to feel normal again for you, and I know this is... absolutely a crazy situation." she pushes her lips to the side as she finishes this, "All I ask is that whenever you're feeling a little too... overwhelmed or it starts becoming too much for you again that you tell us." she propositions. "It's like Garcia always says right? This team works best because we're a family. We trust one another... we've got no other choice, right?" and Emily pauses, seemingly giving you the chance to input with your own opinion.

"Yeah." you agree, and she visibly relaxes.

"JJ's a really great girl by the way." she says, and your eyebrows jump up. "And she cares about you a lot. Too much I think." Emily continues, and you shuffle a bit in your seat, suddenly uncomfortable. "Cut her a bit of slack, okay? Don't punish her too badly for this." she instructs you, and your face ticks, you're unsure if you're going to frown or scowl.

"I wouldn't." you insist, and Emily offers you a look that you know says she doesn't quite believe you. "And I don't really need you trying to give me the protective friend speech." you add a bit unimpressed.

"I'm not trying to lecture you." Emily counters, and you cut your eyes at her.

"So then don't." you huff. "I've got a lot of work to do... so if there's nothing else." and you turn your head back to your files, face screwed up at her. Emily scoffs, letting out one of those huffed laughs that escape from your nose. It makes you look back up at her, eyes narrowed as you offer her a look that said something that was quite frankly not appropriate for work. "What?" you snap.

"You're being unreasonable." she deadpans, and you think that's part of the appeal of your bond with Emily. You'd both always had the liberty to say what you felt to one another, no holds barred. "And you're being unfair. JJ told me what happened, okay? How many times are you gonna make her apologize? And how long are you going to hold it over her head? I know that we hurt you, but you can't use that as your excuse to keep treating us like we're dispensable."

Your jaw drops at the accusation, "I'm not doing that. I'm not the one that keeps trying to push the damn envelope. I left to regroup, and the only reason I came back was because JJ was the only person that had the guts to apologize and to-to be honest with me. I would never use my feelings about the situation as some rouse to get my way, I'm not a child, and I don't appreciate you insinuating that I'm that unprofessional." and you admit, it's getting a little tense.

Derek's eyes haven't left you since Emily walked up, and you know it's not because he's looking for gossip. It's because he knows if the two of you go at it, you could both potentially say something that would hurt each other. But he also supposed it all had to come out eventually, Spencer's seemed to disassociate. His eyes haven't left his book, even as your voice picks up a bit of volume. Lucky kid.

"She told you that she was in love with you, and you shut the door in her face." Emily exclaims, and she's stern, but also certain to lower her voice. JJ wasn't subtle about her feelings for you, but that didn't mean she wanted it as something for the Unit to talk about. Emily watches as your face screws up, clear confusion swirling in your eyes as you shake your head involuntarily.

"Emily, what the hell are you talking about?" you demand, and Emily's face ticks.

"The other day..." she begins, and she's blinking rapidly, her own confusion starting to catch up to her. "When she went to see you?" Emily trails off, and your face pinches up even more, like you had no idea what she was talking about. "When she-" and she trails off.

"No. No she didn't." you deny. "She told me that she loved me, yeah... but JJ always tells me that, and it certainly wasn't like she was confessing secret feelings for me." you deadpan. "She told me why she lied, and she asked me to think about it, and see if I could forgive her. I did, I thought about it, and that's why I showed up today..." you continue, and there's no malice behind your words, it's only that same confusion from before. "Why would you think she was in love with me, Emily?" you press, and your head tips to the side a bit.

"I-" and she's floundering. JJ had made it so clear to her, she'd been so devasted by what happened. How she'd put her heart out there for you, and received absolutely nothing back. But looking at you now, there were no signs of deception, nothing that would prove that you'd willingly ignored a love confession. "I think you should talk to JJ." she retreats, suddenly feeling like she was majorly overstepping. Her annoyance towards your behavior disappears instantly.

This was all a misunderstanding, and you were painfully oblivious.

"Emily?" your confusion triples, watching as the raven haired woman takes off, ignoring the call of your name and serving to put you in a more sour mood. Your foot taps against the ground for a moment, looking over your shoulder at the only person in the unit besides you that could be considered exceptionally close to JJ. "Hey, Spence?" you call, and he's looking up at you instantly. You wave him over, and watch as he puts his bookmark in his book before standing up.

He passes Derek, who's settled back into his own work now that the tensions have declined. When he reaches your desk, you're reaching over to pull another swivel chair up beside you. He takes the hint, sitting down in the seat as you put on your best pleading face, it may have been a bit unethical, but damn it all, if you weren't confused now. "Can I ask you a question?" you plead, and Spencer's new haircut is cute, it fits him, makes him look more like the grown man he is, and not the little kid he'd been dubbed as by the rest of the team.

"You sort of just did." he tells you and you exhale, not out of annoyance though. It's humorous the way you walked right into that one. He's beaming at you, proud of it all, before he clears his throat, using a hand to gesture for you to continue with your real question.

"Do you have any idea why Emily would think that JJ was in love with me?" you question, and the thought is stuck on repeat now that it'd been brought to your attention. You hadn't really taken her words from the other day as some indicator that she held deeper feelings towards you. You watch the way Spencer's eyes widen, before he sets his face, allowing it to rest in a more relaxed expression. He was about to deflect or lie, either way you'd already gotten your answer.

"I think everyone's entitled to their theories and hypotheses..." he offers, and you roll your eyes. "Emily might have noticed something about JJ that led her to that sort of... conclusion." he adds, and your head tips to the side. "But, the only person who'd really know is JJ. Why don't you just ask her?" he offers, and his lips push to the side, almost like he's worried it was the wrong thing to say. Classic Spence.

You lean forward and plant a kiss on his forehead, "Thanks, Spence, you're the best!" you mumble as you stand to your feet, making your way across the bullpen to find JJ's office. The walk is short, and soon enough you find yourself hovering outside of the cracked door. It was a sign that she was sitting inside. You didn't really know how to go about this, on the one hand if it was all a big misunderstanding that'd be a bit embarrassing. On the other hand though, how were you supposed to deal with the fact that your best friend was into you.

For so long the Unit had remained a safe haven from things like crossed boundaries and inappropriate relationships. Of course there were those that toed the line (You still believed that Spencer and Elle had fooled around in the weeks leading up to her departure) and others had crossed the line (Penelope and Derek) but things had never gotten so intense. There were no weddings, dates, children between any of you. You all understood the importance of separation. How could you manage and sustain a relationship like this?

How would things change if one day someone felt that they weren't getting enough? You all had at one point or another prioritized work over your social life, and you all had seen exactly what a life like that led to you. It led to divorce and breakups that only appeared civil, but were really irreconcilable beneath the surface. Still, you push that all to the back of your mind, hand reaching forward to knock on the door. You take a small step backwards, giving her a chance to answer.

"Come in." she calls, and you take a deep breath before you push the door open. JJ's eyes widen the second she takes you in, and you wonder whether or not this was your smartest idea. "Oh..." and she immediately stands up from her chair. "Hey, is everything okay?" she asks, and you're finally stepping inside, shutting the door behind you. It closes with a soft click, and the air suddenly feels charged.

"Yeah, everything's fine. I just wanted to talk to you."

"Of course." she replies, "What's up?"

You think about starting off with a bit of small talk, hoping to ease into the obvious hard part with a bit of a buffer between you. You decide against it at the last minute. "The other night when you told me that you've... loved me for all seven years we've been friends, what exactly did you mean by that?" you pry, and JJ's face is immediately showing off her shock. Her eyes are wide, mouth dropping just slightly as she gaped at you.

"W-What?" she stammers, and you offer her a blank stare.

"It wasn't a difficult question, Jaige." you tell her and she doesn't really know how to respond. "Emily said-" and JJ's eyes are rolling, only because she couldn't believe that Emily had decided to confront you and turn it into an entire ordeal. You weren't obligated to reciprocate her feelings, and she really didn't need anyone fighting any battles for her, especially when she had already begun to make peace with moving on.

"Emily shouldn't have said anything to you, okay? After I left your house, I'll admit I was upset... but-" and she exhales, "You don't have to overcompensate for not feeling the same way by... bringing me coffee, and-and trying to relive that confession, okay? It's only going to hurt the both of us." she tells you sternly, and now it's your turn to be shocked. "It was really stupid of me to even mention it to you then, so we can just forget about it, okay? I'm happy you're back, but if that's it-" and then she's motioning to the door.

"JJ, I didn't know that you were confessing to me." you tell her. "Do you actually think I would've shut the door in your face if I did?"

"You know what? I actually don't know. I mean, the last few weeks we haven't exactly been seeing eye-to-eye." she reminds you, "And it's not like anytime during that conversation you ever gave me anything to work with." she reminds you. "You just did what you always do." she proceeds, and you scoff, growing offended.

"What I always do?" you hiss.

"Yeah, what you always do." she reiterates. "That thing you do where you pretend that nothing matters at all. Like you're just this impenetrable wall that feels nothing, isn't bothered, doesn't care." she says, and you're surprised to know that she thinks this about you. "Y/N, you're a profiler, isn't the whole point that you see the things other people don't?" she presses, "I mean, I don't know how much more clearer I can get. I told you that you were my priority, that doesn't exactly scream you're my best friend." JJ crosses her arms.

"We're not supposed to profile each other." you counter, and you think in a way this is you deflecting again. You didn't know what to say, you didn't even really know how you felt. She shoots you a dry look.

"Okay, Y/N, maybe we aren't." she says with a deep breath, and a tired expression on her face. "I don't really know what you want from me..." and you're taking a small step backwards,

"I'm just trying to understand-" and she's cutting you off instantly.

"There's nothing for you to understand." she snips, and your attitude towards JJ is back, your face screwed up.

"Okay then." you snap, and JJ seems to notice her mistake, her eyes instantly softening, but you both know that it's much too late now.

"Thank you for the coffee..." she gripes, almost like it hurts to say the words, "But I think maybe it's best if just for a little while, we give each other some space." she looks down at the ground. You blink, and you think you might burst into tears, your face and neck scalding hot.

"Is that what you want?" you question, and you ball your hands up into fists at your side.

"Yeah, it is." she agrees, though she doesn't mean it.

"Fine." and before she can really wrap her head around this decision, you're storming out of her office, allowing the door to slam shut behind you. It's childish really, but you can't find it in you to care. The excitement you'd felt that morning at the thought of reconciling with your friend was long gone. All that was left was the knowledge that JJ was supposedly in love with you, and the fact that you liked her a lot more before you found out.

[randxmthxughts]

Unrequited Love - Tsu'tey x Omatikaya!Reader

summary: you had been in love with tsu'tey for as long as you could remember. so when you see his heart break again at the loss of another mate, you offer him comfort, expecting nothing in return

genre/warnings: smut!, oral (m receiving), angst, unrequited love

wc: 2k

a/n: this is my first time writing smut, so i hope i didn't screw it up completely. please let me know if there's anything unrealistic or sounds silly (i am a virgin, idk what the hell i'm doing), i'll be glad to change it. also, please don't forget to leave some feedback, replies, whatever you want. i love reading what you have to say, and it always encourages me to write more ♡

masterlist - part 2

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You watch in silence, your focus only on him. As things escalate between Tsu'tey and Jake, people around you begin to gasp and murmur, filling the space with noise. All you want to do is to call out his name, get him out of there. 

It’s obvious to you that his challenge means nothing. He does it to upkeep his reputation, but if he kills Jake, Neytiri will never choose him again. Tsu’tey draws a knife, bending down over Jake’s unconscious body.

“Neytiri was promised to me,” Tsu’tey grabs him by the hair, bringing his knife closer, “This is a demon in a false body. It should not live.”

Neytiri suddenly lunges at Tsu’tey with all her might. She knocks him off his feet and takes a defensive stance over Jake, baring her teeth and knife. You notice Tsu’tey's posture weaken, as he watches his mate claim Jake as her own in front of the whole clan. He knows it’s too late for him to fight, Neytiri and Jake are now mated for life. Your heart aches at the sight of Tsu’tey's bloodied face and the way he spits on the ground before retreating into the forest, disappearing from the crowd.

Desperately, you rush after him, ignoring the noise and commotion breaking around you. It takes some time for you to finally spot his frame, partially hidden between thick bushes, sitting on a rock with his head hanging low in defeat. 

Sylwanin was his first true love. You watched them fall in love while you were still children. Having a crush on somebody who was already claimed was tough on you, but you knew that Sylwanin and Tsu’tey were meant for each other, and you tried very hard to be happy for them.  You remember it as clear as a day when they announced their bond, and the way you cheered for them, joining in on the celebration. But in your heart, you couldn't help but wish for the kind of love that Tsu'tey had for Sylwanin. You prayed to Eywa that she would one day grant you such feeling.

Losing Sylwanin in that tragic accident was devastating already, but being arranged to mate with her sister instead must have been an unbearable burden for Tsu’tey. Your heart shattered into thousands of tiny pieces when you first heard the news, and there was nothing you could do to help. Tsu’tey was a great hunter and warrior, there was no one more deserving of being Olo’eyctan than him. And though he bonded with Neytiri over their shared grief, he knew that he could never love her the same way. When Sylwanin died, a part of him had also died with her. And now, witnessing Tsu’tey lose his mate to another man was agonizing.

“Tsu’tey,” you catch his attention, approaching him.

As if caught in a moment of vulnerability, Tsu’tey sits up straight. You grimace at the blood smeared around his beautiful face, eyes glistening with the threat of tears. Noticing your gaze lingering on him, Tsu’tey hurries to wipe his eyes. Future Olo’eyctan or not, he didn’t like that you saw him like this. Quickly, you reach forward and grasp his wrists, preventing him from hiding his face.

“‘M sorry,” you mumble.

“I’m fine,” he huffs, shaking his hands to free them from yours.

You don’t take offense to his harshness. Growing up, Tsu’tey always had a soft spot for you, but that did not apply during the moments of humiliation. You crouch down in front of him, letting his frame loom over you.

“You shouldn’t have followed me, Y/N,” he says, like it was an order you disobeyed.

You purse your lips, uncertain if Tsu’tey truly means it. Despite being only two years older than you, Tsu’tey still treated you like a child sometimes. Even as a kid, he exuded dominance and strength, his presence alone putting everyone intact. So whenever he saw boys bullying you, Tsu’tey was quick to tell them off. He would then nudge your shoulder, coaxing a smile from you, and consider his job done. But what he failed to recognize, after all these years, is that you never saw him the same way he saw you. Your heart ached every time you looked at him, knowing that he could never be yours, and that his own heart belonged to someone else.

“I don’t want to take out my anger on you,” Tsu’tey’s tone is stern, “You better leave, Y/N.”

“You can take it out on me, I don’t mind,” you say softly, as his eyes widen in confusion.

“I’m not kidding,” he warns you with a low growl.

“Please, let me help you,” you plead with him, resting your palms over his thighs, “I can take it, you don’t have to hold back.”

Tsu’tey rarely heard those words. He was always scolded for being short-tempered, acting out of anger. That those were unsuitable qualities for the future Olo’eyctan. Tsu’tey tried to contain it, but often old habits would slip right back in. He shifted under your touch, gazing at your hands, while his mind went to places where it shouldn’t go. He thought that he was probably reading you wrong, still upset over the fight.

You weren’t sure if this was where you wanted things to head, when you followed him. But right at this moment, you felt like there was nothing else you wanted to do for him. Your heart truly desired to see him relax for a moment, even if it was at the expense of your feelings. As you slowly moved your palms higher on his thighs, Tsu’tey drew in a short breath. He watched you silently until your fingers grazed the edges of his loincloth.

“You don’t have to,” Tsu’tey put his hands over yours, in an attempt to stop you, but all you could feel was the heat radiating off his skin, making your heart race.

“I want to,” you insist, “Let me make you feel good.”

“You know I can never truly devote myself to anyone else but Sylwanin,” his voice drops, and you have to perk your ears to hear him. 

“I know,” you move your fingers to his sides, reaching the ties of his loincloth, “I don’t expect anything in return.”

“Y/N…” Tsu’tey whispers but you shush him.

You notice the way he tries to resist the growing lust, despite longing for it to be satisfied. His mind tells him to walk away but his body doesn’t comply. Would it be so bad for him to get lost in the moment and just let it go? Let himself forget about all of his worries and pretend that he had nothing weighing down on him?

You hesitate before untying his loincloth, waiting for Tsu’tey to stop you, but he doesn’t. As the fabric slides off his sides, revealing his already hard cock, you’re taken aback slightly. Tsu’tey watches your reaction with a hint of shame; he can’t believe he’s already aroused just by the way you undressed him. 

Slowly, you lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his thigh. You hear Tsu’tey’s breath hitch and feel his muscles clench, as you start trailing kisses up his skin. When you reach his balls, you pause. You have never done anything like this before. Sure, you heard girls talk about pleasuring their mates in many ways, but you could only dream about making Tsu’tey happy. It’s scary.

You take a breath before planting wet kisses to his sack, then some more to the base of his member. Instinctively, his penis twitches underneath your lips, and you hear Tsu’tey let out a small moan. Your ears perk up at the sound so pleasant, you wish you could hear it everyday. You’ve never seen this side of Tsu’tey; he was always so stern, so aware of the way he presented himself to others. But here he is now, trembling under your touch, letting his guard down. Feeling braver, you wrap your lips around his sack, sucking in gently. Simultaneously, your fingers find their way around his penis, giving it a light squeeze.

“Tsahey,” he grunts through his teeth.

The sounds he makes are so satisfying, you feel heat rush to your cunt. You try to ignore the growing sensation, as you press your tongue flat against his shaft, and follow along a prominent vein. Tsu’tey’s grabs the back of your neck, bringing your face closer, ordering for more. You had no idea that you were unintentionally teasing him, making him impatient.

Getting his hint, you take the tip of his penis into your mouth, your tongue occasionally grazing the top, as you suck on it. You let the saliva drip out of your mouth and smear it over his shaft with your hand, beginning to draw small motions up and down, your mouth still working. 

“Take it all in,” Tsu’tey grunts, “Please.”

Tsu’tey had never sounded as desperate as he did right now. To please him, you lean in, trying to take his whole penis into your mouth. It was your best attempt, given how big he was, and feeling the tip press against the back of your throat. It tickles your skin like an annoying scratch you want to tend to. As you lose the rhythm of your breathing, suddenly feeling overwhelmed, you pull away. Instead, you work your hand up and down his penis, now completely covered in your saliva. You massage his balls with your other hand, and when you hear Tsu’tey draw in another short breath, your walls painfully clench around nothing. You push your thighs together, trying not to get distracted by your own desire.

As you pick up a rhythm with your hand, Tsu’tey’s muscles are clenching and relaxing at every movement. He starts to grow impatient, wishing to feel the inside of your mouth again, and reaches out to direct his penis into your mouth. You take him in.

“Tsahey,” he grunts again, then lets out a soft moan when you swirl your tongue around him.

Tsu’tey suddenly stands up, forcing you to sit up higher on your knees. This new position now allows him to slide his full length into you, tickling your throat and almost making you gag. Tears prick up at the corner of your eyes, as he starts jerking his hips forward in small, quick motions. To hold you in place, Tsu’tey grabs you by your hair, and starts speeding up, thrusting into you more violently. When he tugs at your queue, you let out a small whimper.

Distracted by the sound you just made, Tsu’tey slows down, locking his eyes on yours.

“Will you be alright?” he asks, his breath shaky. You suck on him as a sign of approval, “I just need a moment, I'm almost there."

Tsu’tey grips the back of your neck, and picks up the speed of his thrusts again, hitting the back of your throat with a new force. He is going harder on you, desperately chasing the wave of pleasure. Your mouth felt so warm, so soft around him, cheeks sucking and pressing against his length. The tears in your eyes turn your vision blurry, and you try to blink them away, to watch his face. He looks so beautiful.

Suddenly, you feel his member clench, and Tsu’tey pushes into you a few more times. His movements become sloppier, and when a loud groan escapes from his lips, you feel warm bitter liquid filling out your mouth.

“Mawey,” he whispers, his lids heavy, as he pulls out. 

He presses his fingers against your chin, lifting your head just enough to encourage you to swallow. You gulp down, maintaining eye contact, and Tsu’tey hums with a smile, satisfied. Your cunt clenches painfully, pleading for attention, and you squeeze your thighs again, trying to calm yourself down. 

Tsu’tey notices it immediately, eyes now lingering on your loincloth. You look away, embarrassed to get caught by him, and wipe your mouth.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he says, still standing bare in front of you.

It’s awkward, you don’t know how to behave now. You stand up, still not meeting his eyes.

“Feel a little better now?” you ask softly.

“Much better,” Tsu’tey places his fingers under your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes, “Do you want me to help you with that?”

Your cunt clenches again, when his gaze trails down your body. You feel heat rush to your face at the mere thought of Tsu'tey pleasuring you. But you’re too flustered, you’re not sure you can endure it. 

“No, this is not about me,” you shake your head, “I wanted to make you feel better because you didn’t deserve what happened.”

“I must be a fool,” Tsu’tey admits with a guilty sigh, “I never thought that you... that there was something.”

“I know you hadn’t,” you dismiss the way his eyes burn into yours.

“You deserve someone better. Who is not as broken as me,” his hand cups your cheek to offer you comfort.

“Please don’t,” you pull away, interrupting him before he can pity you, “I know you don’t feel the same, Tsu’tey, it’s alright.”

You force a small smile, blinking away the tears in your eyes. The moment between you is fleeting, but it weighs heavy on your heart. You know that he can never love you.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

part 2