#Interaction chapter trademark

[ravetillyoucry]

PUPARIA

Chapter 11 - No Moon At All

prev - chapter 1

"... So, you haven't missed all that much really." Hosah slouched back into the booth seat, greatly undermining the gravity of all he'd just explained to the recently absent detective.

The ashy, almost silver, haired man opposite him seemed to be at a loss for words. Looking at him and Jeanne sat beside each other was definitely an interesting sight. In terms of just about everything, the two were polar opposites, maybe that was why their relationship seemed so distant, so cold, so strained. Hosah had told Teddy all about his concerns about the pair, but the lunch time they'd spend together, the first time as a whole group, would surely show his assistant exactly what he meant.

One thing the shifter always liked about Thierri is how they seemed to be on the same wavelength. There was no feeling of making things weird or awkward in a conversation with the guy, he seemed to always understand just exactly where Hosah was coming from, which was nice when he didn't really want any logical solutions to his problems, just someone to validate him and indulge in whatever delusional perspective he had.

"Oh yeah, same old same old, right?" Thierri tilted his head in a shrug of mutual understanding, taking a sip of his disgustingly sweetened coffee all the while.

These kinds of conversations were the ones Hosah’s father had taught him were just in man’s nature, playing down their struggles in phrases like ‘Living the dream’ or ‘Nothing new’ , not making a spectacle out of their struggle. It was a lesson the shifter carried with him through every day life, one that men such as himself wouldn’t be too talkative of their struggles as to not worry anyone, his respective job as a man to be the one to help others, and not to be helped.

It was at this point when the shifter realised he'd been the only one speaking this entire time, his coworkers all having an air of uncomfortable tension about them, an unresolved issue that Hosah had no idea about. Eugh. So awkward. The only thing filling the void of conversation was the painful sound of cutlery against the ceramic plates. God, that noise, it drove the shifter absolutely insane.

Rather than focusing on the people in-front of him, Hosah would rather just eat whatever food he'd spent an unreasonable amount of money on, and that was really saying something. It was too pretty to eat. A cute little slice of the same cake Teddy had bought for him a week or two prior, hand iced with little slices of strawberries between the layers, cemented by whipped cream. He fidgeted with his fork in his hand, trying to calculate what bites would be the best in order to get the most satisfaction out of the cake.

This was something Hosah had done ever since he could remember, it'd start with the second best bite, then he'd work his way around the meal picking out the more unsatisfying parts until he'd gotten to the very best bite at the end. Very much impractical, but the thought of not doing this just made him want to not eat at all. Not necessarily a good habit, but it could be worse.

A hand giving a reassuring rub on his knee caught him off guard. It was Teddy, with a slightly concerned smile plastered across his face, eyebrows angled down, as if to say 'All good?'. It was already hellish before Hosah had said anything about his doctors concerns, how everyone treat him as some fragile, incapable victim, constantly on the brink of breaking, but everything was about to get at least a hundred times worse from here on out.

Another thing getting progressively worse was the tension around the lunch table. The shifter desperately wanted to break the silence, feeling like a child in the middle of a messy divorce, but there was nothing that came to mind in terms of conversation topics. Lately, Hosah found himself praying for divine intervention a lot more than he usually would.

"Oh, also, autopsies came back whilst you three were sent over to the bakery." Jeanne, like the angel he was, swooped in to save the group from certain death due to awkward silence.

If the shifter had put the fork to his mouth in all the time his food had been sitting there, he would've surely spat it out in surprise. "Really? What happened? What did they all say?"

Hosah could assume the last victim had bled out from his assistant's observation, but the rest seemed to be in perfect health on the outside, aside from the fact they were dead, of course.

"Well, they all seemed to have overdosed, aside from fifteen. Looks like whoever done it has access to the medication they give the shifters who grow in order to keep them regular sized." The dark haired, one-eyed detective took a sip of his drink, leaving Hosah at the edge of his seat, wide eyed, waiting for more detail. "Obviously, 'ts gonna work differently when you're on the opposite side of the shifter spectrum. Did it to keep them small I guess."

Ugh. The more detail the shifter received, the more he wished he'd just stayed in Colorado on shit money working in retail by day, babysitting by night.

Hosah had almost forgotten there were other people around the table aside from himself and Jeanne as his assistant interjected,

"How can people do that. I don't understand. I.. What would motivate anyone to treat others so badly." Teddy didn't look at the shifter beside him, or at anyone around them in-fact, instead, staring off into the distance with glossy eyes and a pursed lip.

The shifter was always aware that his assistant was quite perceptive and insightful, but he’d not expected such a high level of empathy toward his own situation. Only made sense, given his reaction to having the parents identify their child’s shrunken, rotting corpse in front of him. Now seemed like the time for Hosah to take his turn giving the man a pat on the leg, to let him know all would be okay, even if he didn’t fully believe that himself.

"Man, you should get on the internet and just see these kinds of message forums. Just unbridled, unprecedented hatred. I don't know what the fuck we did to them, it's these fucking.. Conspiracy theorists. They have their own shitty lives, and instead of realising maybe they're the reason for it, they want to look to anywhere else but themselves to put the blame. We're just easy targets, easy to say that we use everyone around us, that we're just the same as any other city rat running around the streets spreading all kinds of diseases."

Oops, Hosah didn't mean to rant on like that. In embarrassment, he quickly shovelled his first bite of the strawberry shortcake into his mouth, hoping someone else would pick up the conversation, or the topic would be changed.

"Mmm. After all, with great power comes great responsibility. Most don't know how to handle having such an imbalance over people in this world. People take advantage of others even when they don't have to power to kill them with one harsh movement, you guys have never stood a chance really." That last part may have been a little offensive, but Jeanne was right.

Mouth filled, all the shifter could do was give a passionate 'Mmm' with a point over to his superior in support of his statement. How great, he knew inviting Jeanne wasn't such a bad idea, look at these high intellect, insightful conversations being had. Anyone who overheard must be thinking , 'Woah, what a set of intelligent and handsome young men' .

"That reminds me, actually, sorry for the other day, Jeanne, I was careless and couldn't handle my emotions. Sorry." Teddy perked up, this was something the shifter had no idea about, what the fuck did Teddy of all people have to apologise to Jeanne about?

Was this why his friend had been avoiding the two all this time? What happened whilst Hosah wasn't there? When was Hosah not there?

"Damn, bitch, what'd you do?" , was the most casual way Hosah could put all of his questions.

Instead of giving a straightforward answer, the ghostly looking detective sitting opposite him waved Hosah off, "Long story, no big deal, it's all resolved now, just a.. misunderstanding. Don't worry about it."

Hm. No, no yeah, the shifter was definitely going to worry about it.

Everyone, now seemingly at ease, continued to chat about nothing as Hosah continued to question in his mind just what could've happened between the two. Chowing down on the cake, he wondered how exactly they got into a situation where they'd be fighting. In fact, Hosah became so deep in thought that he'd actually cleared the plate in front of him. Perfect! One less problem to worry about, surely now that he'd eaten one slice of cake, that means all future food related issues have been defeated, and he'll never have to worry about that specialist appointment or his doctor's theories ever again!

Feeling all proud of himself, Hosah and his assistant trailed behind the two detectives in front of them, walking in pairs back to the office.

Teddy took the shifter by the shoulder, pulling him in closer, his hand cupping the blonde head and pressing it into around his collar bone area due to the height difference. "We should go back to that cafe more often, since the food is good there,"

"Psh, come on," Hosah scoffed, his neck now craned up to rest his stubbled chin on his assistant's shoulder, "I told you, there's nothing wrong with me, just been too stressed to have any kind of appetite lately." If that were the case, the shifter would've been stressed every moment of his life.

It was better if he gave everyone one less thing to worry about anyway, there was enough on Teddy's plate, despite his claims of wanting to help, the shifter knew it was just too much to ask from him. This would be something Hosah would handle himself, given that everything else in his life was a shared task. It was his right as a man after all, to take care of his own shit and to not expect the people around him to help him with it.

"Right." Teddy didn't let go of the detectives head, instead playing with his hair, his fingertips moving in satisfying circles.

As much as he didn't want to admit it, the sensation was very nice. They probably looked like a couple to everyone else around them, but for once in his life, Hosah didn't really care. He couldn’t even really be bothered if his stalker took notice, maybe it’d teach them to back off, now that he had a guard dog that’d stick by his side during every second of the day.

That reminded him, his hair was one of the things on his mental list of 'jobs to cover once you're normal sized', "On the way back home, can we stop at the convenience store? Need to fix my hair, it's all grown out and shit."

"Yeah, yeah sure. I can help you with the back if you need it." Teddy reassured the shifter, despite wanting to say ‘Yeah, I can see that’.

Hosah was gonna need all the help he could get after the last time he tried to do this job alone, exhibit A of the disaster being his current state. Yellowed, with a texture similar to that of straw or hay, as his hair desperately wanted to curl, but would he brushed out and left a frizzy mess.

-~-

"I don't know, what do hairdressers do, bleach first or haircut first?" The shifter had never actually had his hair cut or bleached by a professional, which is probably why it looked so choppy and bad.

Teddy didn't look up from the instructions ok the box, "Never been to a barbers before?" he smiled, not in a demeaning way, but it still annoyed Hosah just a little.

"Nope. My grandpa owned his own barber shop so he taught my dad how to cut hair. He usually did it for me."

Instead of using his words, the assistant gave a little 'Mmm' of understanding, too indulged in using the box guide rather than trusting the process as Hosah usually did.

"Okay," he said, grabbing a towel from the back of the bathroom door in which they sat in, "Colour first, then cut."

Despite insisting to do it himself as he had done so countless times in the past, Teddy had already decided he was going to play hairdresser today, with the shifter sitting shirtless on a stool in the already cramped bathroom as his hair was being covered in the shitty store bought shit he'd become accustomed to.

"You do this yourself usually, right?"

"Yup."

".. Can tell." Teddy winced as he got around to the back of the shifter's head.

Turning back to look at the man behind him, Hosah asked, "What, is it bad? Why didn't you tell me before?"

"Keep your head forward." the assistant used his un-gloved hand to give Hosah's cheek a gentle touch back into the previous position it was in before, "No, it's not bad, it's just.. Roots are pretty long. And the length. 'Ts like mullet."

"Shut up, no it's not, it was just buzzed before, that's all"

Hosah didn't take kindly to being laughed at, resting his elbows on his knees and cupping his face in his hands like a bored schoolboy.

It was particularly hard not to squirm with the sensation of the brush against the back of his neck, Teddy's fingers gently pressing against the almond skin, keeping the shifter in place as he brushed from the ends to the roots of his choppy hair.

Shivering under the touch, Hosah felt the need to clarify, "Sorry, the bristles tickle."

"Not much left to do now," his assistant said under his breath, "Your hair is just.. very thick. It's nice."

The shifter got stuck between saying thank you or saying something self deprecating, ultimately deciding silence was the best way to take the compliment. Letting people say nice things about him put Hosah at unease, as if acknowledging it would make him come off as big-headed or vain, so instead he usually just denied it instead.

It was proving to be very difficult not to shift whilst in his seat, with the skin to skin contact around his shoulder and the gentle brushing of the bleach against his scalp. As much as he didn't want to admit it, Hosah's default size was three inches tall, he's the most comfortable when shrunken, being a 'regular' height to him felt like one massive perpetual growing pain that filled his entire body.

Despite the pain of getting around, the least physically painful time of his life was probably when he'd gotten height stuck for three months. Over time, the shifter learnt to just tune out his chronic pains, but getting into a comfortable position in life where he had someone to look after him, the thought of just staying tiny forever became overwhelmingly tempting.

" 'Kay, looks completely covered to me." Teddy said in a sigh, removing his singular glove, "Now we wait."

The urge to run his hands through his bleach covered hair was difficult to overcome, "I'm gonna go put a record on,"

It was honestly a miracle that Teddy also owned a record player, as the world had made its shift from tapes and vinyls to CDs and ipods, but that was one thing Hosah took immense pride in. His vinyl collection spanned all the way back to the fifties, as a good portion of the records he'd amassed were 'borrowed' from his father. Scanning through the box he'd had his assistant bring over, ultimately the shifter decided on a little Townes Van Zandt, playing Hosah's all time favourite song 'I'll Be Here In The Morning'.

This song always reminded Hosah of his ultimate dream, living in that cabin on the islet in the lake, although there were some sour memories and feelings attached to it, he felt as though he'd spent too many years fantasising about it to give up now.

"I never really pegged you as a country type of guy." The voice came from the figure leant up against the bathroom door frame, almost being as tall as the door itself.

"Well," Hosah sighed, "I'm not really that picky. Jazz is my favourite though. Just sucks that all the best artists are dead now."

Teddy laughed as he approached, their height difference being more prominent that ever as he stood directly in front of the shifter now, "There are still some talented musicians. Can go to one of those Jazz Clubs and bars over the weekend, it'll be fun."

The taller figure leant down, close to Hosah's face, which was hidden by the fact he'd chosen to stare at the rug underneath him rather than the person he was talking to. If that was Teddy's idea of weekend fun, then the shifter had been doing it wrong his whole life.

"Sounds nice, yeah," Hosah turned his head even further to the side as he spoke, desperately trying to hide how red he'd gotten from the close proximity.

It wasn't supposed to be happening this way around, it had been years since the shifter had been teased by a man, he'd grown used to being the one having to initiate all these sorts of feelings. It was a pleasant change of pace, one he welcomed like an old friend at his doorstep.

"Cool." Teddy echoed the shifters own words back to him.

Hosah would’ve taken this as his sign for a smoke break if he didn’t have a thick layer of convenience store hair bleach on his head. The pain of his own flustered-ness was almost unbearable, but his morbid curiosity kept him around the sofa on which his assistant had now sat on, waiting for what move he would make next, if any at all.

Still, with his eyes focused on the wooden floor under his feet, the shifter could feel eyes lingering on him.

“Hey, do we not need to put like, I don’t know, foil in your hair, or a plastic bag?” Teddy asked, his head tilted to rest on one of the many pillows accumulated on the couch.

“No clue. What are you, some kind of professional?” Hosah joked, hoping his downturned eyebrows and his squinted eyes would distract from the shade of red his face had turned.

His roommate just shrugged, “Might as well be, my mom spent more time in hair salons then she ever did at any of my games and shit.”

“Ahh, so you played a lot of sports as a kid then?” Now they were getting somewhere. A nice common ground for the two to stand on.

“I mean,” Teddy stood to his full height, “Look at me. I was six foot by my fourteenth birthday. They begged me to join the basketball team.”

Sounded about right.

“Kind of always expected you to be more, you know,” Hosah took a moment to consider whether the other person would take offence, ultimately deciding he didn’t really care as he did his best ‘classic highschool movie nerd’ voice, “In the book club.”

“God, I should’ve been,” Luckily, Teddy took it like a champ, laughing it off, showing his radiant smile, “What about you? Not really the football type, right?”

“Baseball. I was fuckin’ great at it too. Short and skinny, aerodynamic you know? Then I started shifting more, and I got busy with all the doctors visits and health consultations, had to quit in the end.”

A bittersweet memory, but still one Hosah looked back on fondly. It was one of the only times he really felt like part of a friend group as a kid.

“Yeah, I can picture that, you in the cap and the cleats?” Teddy went back to his previous teasing ways, an unexpected turn for the person the shifter assumed to be quite the prude about these kinds of things.

All discombobulated, Hosah struggled to get his words out in one piece, “I think it’s time to rinse.”

Without turning back, the shifter speedily shuffled back to the bathroom, with Teddy following close behind him.

“Just sit down on the floor and hang your head over the side of the tub,” Teddy instructed, grabbing a towel from the bathroom door, shutting it behind him all the while.

Hosah obediently followed the instructions given to him, his neck uncomfortably craned up so it rested on the bathtub’s walls, his hair still stuck in its same position due to the solution in it.

The warm water hitting his scalp certainly was a pleasant feeling, the hard pressure of the shower head being weirdly soft against the tender skin the water pounded down upon. If it wasn’t hard to shrink before, it was definitely a challenge to stay his current size now. Hosah hadn’t even realised how he’d had his eyes closed for a while now, enjoying the pampering of which the likes he’d never experienced.

“It’s nice, right?” Teddy laughed, although the shifter had no plans on saying anything in return, being too indulged in the process to even notice the fact his assistant had said anything at all.

And that wasn’t even the best part, Hosah knew true bliss as the shower head was turned off, Teddy moving over to the shampooing process. Gentle fingertips massaging the purple solution into his scalp, the sensation being so satisfying that it brought a wide, involuntary smile to the shifter’s face.

It was moments like these which made Hosah wish for just a few seconds, he could leave his body and look in from an outsiders perspective. Seeing this moment from the angle of a painted idea would probably be pretty beautiful, although his position, leaning up with his head hanging over the tub, probably wasn’t all that nice looking from a third person view point.

Teddy lifted the jug of perfectly warm water, carefully rinsing the shifter’s hair of the soapy mixture he’d just rubbed in, brushing his fingers through the freshly bleached locks to make sure he got all of it out.

As the shifter opened his eyes, long after the sensation had ended, he was met with that same smug look Teddy sometimes carried, when he’d gotten his way with things.

“Enjoy yourself?” He asked, taking it upon himself to start drying Hosah’s hair, delicately scrunching the ends rather than the usual scrub the shifter would give to his own scalp after washing it.

Hosah scoffed, too flustered to think of anything witty to get his assistant back with.

The pair sat on the cold, tiled floor together, Teddy tenderly rubbing the towel in a circular motion against Hosah’s head, the setting sun gleaming in through the small, stained glass window above the toilet which they were hanging out beside. Even with the mess from the bleaching job that just took place, Hosah could picture how beautifully picturesque this scene probably looked. Trying to imagine himself from a different perspective than his own was difficult, but it was one he was willing to try out in hopes of painting this moment, as payment for his assistant’s care.

This reminded him, he had to ask what specifically Teddy wanted him to paint for him.

“You know that painting I promised you?” Hosah began his inquiry, his big brown doe eyes looking up innocently at the figure which sat above him.

“How could I forget?”

His hands balling up into tense fists, the shifter continued, “What specifically did you have in mind for that? Just so I can get started,”

Teddy’s eyes adverted from the task at hand to look at the shifter below him, “Anything you think would be best. I wouldn’t even mind if you threw something you did years ago at me, to be honest,”

Great, perfect, that means Hosah had free rein on what he was creating, just how he liked it. But now was the hard part, making something as equally as beautiful as the person he was making it for. The task seemed daunting, almost impossible, but the shifter wouldn’t want to let Teddy down, especially not after all he’d done for him so far, with more aid surely to come in the future.

“There,” Teddy moved a few inches back, now sitting on his butt the same as the shifter did rather than on his knees, “All better now.”

Hurriedly, Hosah got up to look at his new and improved hair in the mirror, and sure enough, it looked even better than it did the last time he’d done it himself. He felt finally whole again, finally himself as his hair had been returned to the sleek, almost white colour it once was. There was still a little dark root peaking through, but this time it looked very intentional, and it made his head hair match his facial hair and eyebrows, which was always nice.

“You like?” Teddy asked, moving in behind the shifter, resting his chin on the damp hair.

“Yeah, yeah of course. Best it’s ever been.” Despite wanting to be angry over how his assistant positioned himself, Hosah couldn’t bring himself to feel any negative emotions at all.

Looking Teddy in the eye through their reflection, the shifter added, “Thank you, it looks great.”

“Aww,” the pale arms wrapped around Hosah’s dainty shoulders swaying him left and right playfully, “Anytime.”

If this is what life would be like with Teddy, the shifter wasn’t sure he’d even want to return to his own apartment once all the crazed stalker shit had worn down.

[joelsrose]

Guns & Roses

next chapter

Summary: New series! Joel Miller couldn’t stand you, and you weren’t exactly fond of him either. Yet somehow, fate seemed determined to weave your lives together, no matter how much you resisted.

TW: just mean!joelmiller - 4.8k words eee enjoyyy

Chapter One

You and Joel Miller were not friends. Not at all.

Ever since Joel Miller had entered Jackson, there had been something—something you couldn’t quite name—that kept him at arm’s length from you. It wasn’t just indifference or distance; it was as though every time you were near, it set off an invisible alarm in him, a deep, simmering irritation that crackled in the air between you.

You didn’t understand it.

It felt personal in a way that made no sense, as if just being around him was enough to make him want to leave the room.

And you had no idea why.

Sure, Joel was a gruff man, with his trademark stoicism and hard edges. Everyone knew that. He was someone who struggled to connect, someone with walls so high you’d wonder if he’d ever learned how to take them down.

But slowly, after a few months in Jackson, Joel had softened. Not by much, but just enough.

You’d see him offering small smiles to the townsfolk, his weathered hands occasionally helping out with a chore, his nods of acknowledgment more frequent. He wasn’t friendly, exactly, but he was warming up to the people around him. Jackson, with all its noise and community, had chipped away at his rough exterior.

But with you? Joel Miller remained a brick wall.

He didn’t smile at you. He didn’t wave or nod. He didn’t even make eye contact unless it was absolutely necessary. Every interaction felt like walking on thin ice, a sharpness to his silence that made the air between you ache with discomfort. The warmth you’d see in him, the small flickers of humanity that everyone else seemed to coax out? They evaporated the second his gaze found yours, as if all the walls that had softened for others came crashing back up around you.

It wasn’t just confusing. It stung.

What made it worse was that you couldn’t figure out why. You were well-liked in Jackson. You had a reputation for being kind, caring, funny—charismatic in a way that drew people in without much effort on your part. People sought you out. You were the type of person others trusted, the one who could make a tense moment lighter with just a smile. You knew how to connect with people, how to build friendships that were rooted in something real. You had friends everywhere—Tommy, Maria, the patrol groups—and wherever you went, you fit in.

But not with Joel Miller.

With Joel, it felt like no matter what you did, you could never find your footing. He didn’t laugh at your jokes, didn’t seem to care about the easy rapport you had with everyone else. If anything, his coldness made you doubt yourself, made you second-guess every interaction, every conversation. You, who had always been so sure of your ability to connect, were suddenly questioning everything.

You could still remember the day Joel arrived in Jackson, Ellie by his side, both of them looking weathered and wary. There was something raw in the way Joel had embraced Tommy, a kind of relief that softened the edges of his usual guarded self. For a moment, he had looked so vulnerable, so unburdened by the weight of the world, that you’d thought, maybe, just maybe, we’ll get along. After all, if Tommy loved him, how hard could it be?

Tommy had been so excited to introduce you two. You were one of his closest friends in Jackson, practically family, and he’d pulled you aside that day, a wide grin on his face as he said, “I can’t wait for y’all to meet, I know you’ll get along great.” There had been such hope in his voice, such warmth. It had made you smile, had made you eager to get to know Joel. You had thought of all the ways your bond with Tommy would naturally extend to Joel—how you’d become this little trio of friends, tied by loyalty and time.

But it hadn’t happened that way.

Instead, from the very first moment you and Joel had locked eyes, something had been off. You couldn’t pinpoint when, exactly, it shifted, but as the months wore on, the gap between you seemed to widen. You couldn’t understand what you had done to push him so far away, but whatever it was, it felt irrevocable. It was as if, in Joel’s eyes, you had done something unforgivable before you even had the chance to know him.

Tommy’s words echoed in your mind sometimes, taunting you with their false promise: You guys will get along great.

You remembered the first time you had met Joel—it had been one of those evenings meant to feel light and warm, filled with laughter and food. Maria had invited you to Tommy and hers for dinner, a small gathering, just family and close friends. The kitchen had smelled like garlic and rosemary, the scents swirling around you as you helped plate the dishes while Maria buzzed beside you, chatting about the latest updates in town.

Then you heard the door creak open, the murmur of low voices carrying into the kitchen. Joel and Ellie had arrived, their figures framed by the dying evening light streaming through the doorway. There was something comforting in how they stood—a familiarity, an ease that only family can share. Tommy’s laugh rang out, hearty and genuine, as he clapped his brother on the shoulder, leading him into the room.

“Hey, Maria,” Joel’s voice cut through the air—gruff, grounded, with a depth that seemed to echo from the very walls of the house. And then, Tommy turned to you with that warm brotherly smile of his, introducing you.

You’d smiled—nervous but friendly—extending a hand as you offered a casual greeting. “Hi, it’s so nice to finally meet you, Joel.”

A light-hearted joke about the food had slipped from your lips, something meant to fill the space, to break the silence, to ease the unfamiliarity. But Joel had only stared for a heartbeat too long, his hand moving to shake yours with a grip that felt as solid and immovable as stone. There had been no warmth, no softness in his eyes, no smile to meet your own. It was as if your presence unsettled him, a chill descending between you two in that brief exchange. You had felt it then—the distance, the resistance.

And it only grew from there.

Through the evening, you had tried. Tried to coax him into the conversation with little remarks, to pull him in through laughter and lighthearted banter. Ellie had laughed, her bright smile flickering like sunshine breaking through the clouds. Tommy had nearly fallen out of his chair at one of your jokes, his laughter filling the space between bites of food. Even Maria had chuckled softly, her eyes glowing with warmth as she nudged you playfully.

But not Joel.

Every time you spoke, his brow furrowed just a little deeper. His lips pressed tighter together, and his eyes flicked away from yours as if he couldn't bear to hold your gaze. It wasn’t outright hostility, but the coldness lingered like a shadow, hovering between every word exchanged. The more you tried to engage him, the more distant he seemed, as if you were pushing against a wall that refused to budge.

And the more Joel pulled away, the more it gnawed at you, turning your confusion into something more jagged, more bitter. How could someone you barely knew have such a hold on your thoughts? How could one man’s distance feel like a rejection of everything you thought you were good at?

As the days blurred together, you’d find yourself thinking about it more than you cared to admit. And as much as you tried to brush it off, tried to tell yourself that you didn’t care, that his coldness didn’t matter—it did. It mattered more than you wanted it to.

And Joel? He didn’t seem to care.

That was why, when you saw your name paired with Joel for the next patrol, you were stumped. A frown pulled at your lips as you stared at the roster, the list mocking you with its cruel pairing.

Joel Miller.

The man who could barely look at you, who actively avoided your presence, now slated to spend hours—days even—alone with you out in the wilderness. Whoever had put this together had to be playing a joke on you.

But as your eyes drifted down to the bottom of the roster, you saw the telltale initials: M & T. Maria and Tommy. The two people in charge of organizing patrols.

Of course.

You gruffed in frustration, the idea of spending hours in silence, or worse, awkward small talk with Joel, made you inwardly groan.

Shaking your head, you started the short walk toward Maria and Tommy’s house, the crisp winter air biting at your cheeks. The snow beneath your boots crunched with each step, the sound sharp in the otherwise quiet evening. Jackson’s main path was lined with soft, glowing lights that reflected off the fresh blanket of snow, guiding your way.

Their house wasn’t far, tucked neatly alongside the other homes, warm and inviting with its soft glow spilling from the windows. You could see the familiar curl of smoke rising from the chimney, a sure sign of the roaring fire inside. As you approached, you could hear voices filtering through the thick wooden walls—louder than usual, urgent. You slowed your pace, the tension in the air becoming palpable, the muffled sound of raised voices stirring something uneasy in your chest.

“What the hell is this, Tommy?” Joel’s voice cut through the stillness, gruff and laced with irritation. You stopped short of the door, your breath catching as curiosity took hold. You shouldn’t eavesdrop—you knew that—but you couldn’t stop yourself. You needed to hear what Joel had to say, especially if it would finally give you some insight into why he always seemed to look at you with that simmering frustration.

“What’s the big deal, Joel?” Tommy’s voice echoed back, exasperated but steady, trying to keep the peace.

“You know damn well what the big deal is.” Joel’s tone was biting, sharp enough to cut through the thick wooden walls. His frustration was palpable, practically vibrating through the air. “You’re pairin’ me up with her? Jesus, Tommy, you know I can’t stand her.”

The words hit like a physical blow, and your heart clenched painfully, the sting immediate and deep. You had suspected it for a while, of course, but hearing him say it out loud—that he couldn’t stand you—felt like a punch to the gut, one you weren’t prepared for.

You weren’t the type to let words get to you, especially not like this, but this—this was different. A lump formed in your throat, and before you could stop it, tears pricked at your eyes, threatening to spill over. You pressed yourself closer to the door, the silence inside the house heavy as if even Tommy was taken aback by Joel’s outburst.

Finally, Tommy spoke again, his voice filled with frustration, tinged with disbelief. “And why the hell not? She’s a good person, Joel. A damn good person with a heart of gold. What the hell did she ever do to you?”

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat growing. You stepped closer to the door, your heart pounding as you waited—needed—to hear Joel’s response. You needed to know why.

“It’s not that simple, Tommy.” Joel’s voice was quieter now, the frustration tempered, but it carried a weight that made your pulse quicken.

“What the hell’s so complicated about it?” Tommy shot back, his voice rising in disbelief, clearly at the end of his patience. “You’ve barely said two words to her since you got here. If you’ve got a problem with her, why don’t you just spit it out?”

The silence that followed was thick, almost suffocating. For a moment, you thought Joel wouldn’t answer at all. The tension hung in the air like a coiled spring, ready to snap.

And then, in a voice so low you almost didn’t hear it, Joel finally spoke. “It’s just… I can’t, alright? I can’t… be around her like that.”

Your heart pounded painfully against your ribs, confusion swirling inside you. What did that even mean? You had no idea what he was trying to say, but it twisted something deep within you, the uncertainty gnawing at your insides.

“Jesus, Joel,” Tommy sighed, his voice carrying the weariness of too many conversations just like this one. You could practically hear him running a hand through his hair, frustration and exhaustion blending in his tone.

“Look, you don’t have a choice here. What if one day it’s just the two of you out there, the only ones available for patrol, and something goes sideways? You gonna let things fall apart because you can’t get over yourself and work together?”

There was a pause, Tommy’s words hanging in the air like a plea for reason. You knew you had heard enough. The knot in your chest had tightened to the point of pain, and you were ready to turn away, to retreat before things got worse.

But before you could move, the door creaked open.

Joel stood in the doorway, his broad frame blocking out the warm light from inside. His eyes found yours immediately, and in that instant, you knew—he had seen you. And he knew you had heard everything.

The flicker of recognition in his eyes made your chest tighten even more, your heart racing as the tension between you grew impossibly thick. There was no apology in his gaze, no softening in his expression. He just stared at you, his features tight and unreadable, leaving you suspended in the heavy silence of everything unsaid.

Behind him, you could see Maria and Tommy, their faces filled with worry, watching as the situation unfolded like a slow-motion tragedy. You felt exposed, raw, like an open wound, and the last thing you wanted was for anyone to witness that vulnerability.

Joel pushed past you without a word, his shoulder brushing yours as he strode down the steps, his footsteps heavy against the ground. He didn’t even glance back, leaving you standing there, heart in pieces, with nothing but the cold air biting at your skin.

You turned on your heel, walking away from the house, your steps heavy, dragging, like your body was weighed down by the ache in your chest. You wanted to move faster, to disappear into the night, but your legs felt unsteady beneath you, refusing to obey the urgency in your heart. Each step felt like a struggle, the sting of unshed tears blurring your vision as you tried to hold it together.

“Wait—” Tommy called after you, his voice tight with concern. “Come inside, talk to us.”

But you couldn’t. The tears were already threatening to spill, your throat tight with the pressure of holding everything in. The last thing you wanted was for them—for him—to see you like this, breaking apart in front of their eyes. Your vision wavered as the first tear slipped free, and you blinked hard, trying to will it away, trying to push down the hurt that was clawing its way up.

You needed to get out of there. Anywhere but here. You moved faster, your boots crunching in the freshly fallen snow, your breath coming in short, ragged bursts as you made your way down the path. The cold air nipped at your cheeks, but it did little to numb the burning in your chest.

Behind you, you heard Tommy rushing after you, his footsteps crunching through the snow, his voice softer now, urgent but gentle. “Hey, kid—he didn’t mean it. You know Joel. He’s complicated. He doesn’t know how to—” His words trailed off, as if he couldn’t find the right way to explain something even he didn’t fully understand.

You stopped, your feet rooted to the ground, but you didn’t turn to face him. You couldn’t. Not like this. Not when you were one breath away from falling apart entirely, from letting everything you’d been holding back flood to the surface.

“I’ll be fine, Tommy,” you said, your voice tight, barely managing to stay steady. It felt like a lie, like a betrayal of the truth you were burying inside, but you couldn’t let him see you like this. Not over Joel Miller. You wiped at your eyes hastily, trying to brush away the tears before they fell. “I just… I need to go.”

There was a pause, the silence thick between you, weighted with sympathy, with Tommy’s understanding and his guilt. He didn’t say anything else, and in that moment, you were grateful. He didn’t push. He knew better.

So you walked away, your heart heavy with the weight of it all. The cold air bit at your cheeks, but the sting of Joel’s words hurt so much more, echoing in your mind like a wound that refused to heal. And underneath it all, one question burned like fire, searing through every doubt and every hurt—Why?

Why did Joel hate you so much? What had you ever done to deserve it?

•••

The morning sun filtered through the thin curtains of your small home, casting soft, golden beams across the wooden floor. The house was modest—just enough space for one person, with a kitchen that opened into a cozy living room, and a bedroom tucked away in the back. The walls were lined with small, personal touches—books you had collected over the years, a few framed photos of moments from before, and little trinkets you had scavenged from various patrols. It was a quiet space, peaceful, but this morning, the weight of the silence felt heavier than usual.

You sat on the edge of your bed, your hands lingering over your boots before pulling them on with a sigh. The air in Jackson had the sharpness of early morning, and you knew the day ahead would be long. As you tied the laces, the conversation you’d overheard at Tommy and Maria’s house replayed in your mind—the sting of Joel’s words, the coldness in his voice. "Jesus Tommy, you know I can’t stand her." It had been days since, but the ache of it still hit like a fresh bruise, tender to the touch.

You stood and moved to the small table by the door where you kept your patrol gear—your rifle, your gloves, a well-worn coat. Everything felt heavier today. As you strapped on your holster, you caught your reflection in the window. You looked tired. Not just from lack of sleep, but from the quiet hurt that had been growing inside you, quietly gnawing at your spirit since the moment Joel’s words reached your ears.

With one last glance around your home, you opened the door and stepped outside, the crisp morning air hitting your cheeks. The stable wasn’t far, just a short walk, but the journey felt longer today. Each step reminded you of the awkward silence that was bound to hang between you and Joel, the weight of unspoken words and the tension that had always been there but now felt even more unbearable.

When you arrived at the patrol meet-up spot, your eyes immediately landed on your horse. He whinnied softly, recognizing you as you approached. You smiled faintly, running your hand along his muzzle, brushing through his thick mane. It was a ritual by now—whispering a soft hello to him, patting his side, and taking a moment to ground yourself before setting out. He was the one constant, the one being you could rely on during patrol. You leaned in, pressing your forehead gently to his, letting the warmth of his presence calm your frayed nerves.

But then, you heard the familiar sound of boots crunching in the snow behind you. Without even turning, you knew it was Joel.

You felt his presence like a weight in the air—heavy, silent. He said nothing as he walked past you, his eyes fixed on his own horse. There was no greeting, no acknowledgment, just the awkward tension that had settled between you both like a fog. The memories of that conversation played over again in your mind, and the pang of hurt hit you square in the chest as you stiffened slightly.

You stole a quick glance at him as he saddled his horse. His face was set in that same stoic expression, the one he wore around everyone in Jackson—but with you, there was an added distance. He kept his eyes averted, focusing on the task at hand, and for a moment, you wondered if this day would pass without a single word between you.

With a sigh, you climbed onto your horse, settling into the saddle with a practiced ease. The silence between you and Joel was palpable, thick like the cold morning air. You wanted to say something—anything to break the tension—but the words caught in your throat, stifled by the hurt that lingered.

Joel mounted his horse without a glance in your direction. You both sat there for a beat, the sound of horses shifting in the snow the only thing breaking the stillness. Then, without a word, he nudged his horse forward, and you followed suit, the two of you riding out together into the white expanse of the wilderness beyond Jackson.

The only thing heavier than the quiet was the unspoken weight between you.

You began your journey through the thick silence that had settled between you and Joel like a fog. The cold wind bit at your skin, but it was nothing compared to the coldness that radiated from the man riding just ahead of you. His shoulders were hunched, his back stiff, his eyes never once flickering in your direction. The snow crunched beneath your horse's hooves, the sound the only thing to fill the uncomfortable quiet between you.

Not a single word had passed between you since the patrol began. The tension was unbearable, the weight of Joel’s unspoken words hanging heavily in the air. You hadn’t expected warmth or friendliness, not after everything, but the biting silence cut deeper than you could have imagined.

Hours passed before Joel finally spoke, his voice a low mutter as he pointed toward a narrow path. “We’ll go through here,” he said, his tone flat and emotionless, as though he were simply checking off a list. It was strange to hear him speak after so long, and for a moment, it felt as though his words didn’t belong to him.

You followed in silence, the trail winding deeper into the forest, the trees closing in around you. The snow-covered ground glittered under the faint sunlight, casting long shadows that twisted and danced between the trees. The world felt smaller here, more enclosed, and with each passing moment, the unease inside you grew.

Eventually, you arrived at your destination—a crumbling cabin tucked deep in the woods, half-buried in snow, its wood aged and brittle against the cold. The stillness of the air made everything feel heavier, like even the trees were holding their breath. You dismounted your horse quietly, your fingers stiff from the biting chill as you fumbled with the reins. Joel had already tied his horse to the post, his movements precise, practiced.

He turned toward you, the lines of his face hardened, eyes sharp as they caught yours for a moment too long. His jaw clenched, the tension palpable. “Follow me,” he ordered, his voice cutting through the cold air like a whip. “And don’t say a word. Not a single word. From here on out, we’re silent.”

His command, rough and unyielding, struck you with a sharpness that left your chest aching. It wasn’t just the cold seeping into your bones—it was the weight of his disdain, pressing down on you, constricting your breath. You nodded, your throat tightening with unspoken words you knew would only make things worse.

You followed him toward the cabin, the wind howling softly around you, whispering secrets you couldn’t quite hear. The snow crunched beneath your boots, the scent of pine lingering in the air. But despite the open wilderness around you, the world felt unnervingly small. The cabin door creaked on its rusted hinges as Joel pushed it open, the sound echoing like a warning in the eerie stillness. You hesitated before stepping inside, the dim light barely illuminating the cramped space that lay beyond.

Your pulse quickened, your instincts telling you something wasn’t right. You’d been on enough patrols to recognize danger, but this… this felt different. It felt personal. Like the shadows themselves were watching, waiting.

Joel moved ahead of you, his broad shoulders tense, his gun drawn as he scanned the small room. His silence felt thick, suffocating, the air between you charged with unspoken tension. You tried to steady your breathing, to calm the hammering of your heart, but the unease gnawed at you, made every sound sharper, every shadow darker.

And then it happened.

A figure lunged from the darkness, too fast for you to react, the world tilting violently as you were tackled to the ground. The impact stole the breath from your lungs, the cold, hard floor biting into your skin. The raider was filthy, wild-eyed, his hands rough and cruel as he pinned you beneath him, the sharp gleam of a knife flashing before your eyes. Panic surged through you, but your limbs felt heavy, useless against the overwhelming force holding you down. The knife hovered dangerously close to your throat, the cold steel grazing your skin, and for one terrifying moment, you thought this was it—this was how it would end.

But then Joel was there.

He moved like a storm—fast, brutal, and unstoppable. In one swift motion, he yanked the raider off of you, throwing him to the floor with a strength that seemed to come from somewhere far deeper than just muscle. Rage radiated from Joel as his fists met flesh, each blow landing with a sickening crack that echoed through the tiny cabin. He didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. The raider’s body went limp beneath him, but Joel kept going, his fists relentless, pounding into the man with a fury that seemed to possess him, until the only sound left was the ragged heave of his breathing and the wet thud of blood dripping onto the floor.

You lay there, gasping, your chest rising and falling in uneven, desperate breaths. The world spun around you, the edges of your vision blurred by adrenaline and fear. You pushed yourself up on trembling arms, your body weak, every nerve on edge. Your heart thundered in your chest, so loud you could hear it in your ears, drowning out the silence that had settled like a heavy fog.

Joel turned toward you then, his chest still heaving with exertion, his fists stained with blood. His face was dark with anger, his eyes burning as they locked onto yours. “What the hell was that?” he growled, the fury in his voice so raw it made you flinch. “You could’ve been killed.”

His words were a blade, sharp and unyielding, cutting through the thin veil of composure you’d been clinging to. You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it difficult to breathe. You wanted to speak, to defend yourself, but the intensity of his stare pinned you down more effectively than the raider ever could. Every word you wanted to say died on your tongue.

And then he muttered it, low and venomous, just loud enough for you to hear: “Fucking burden…”

The words sliced through you, deeper than any knife. You felt them settle in your chest, a sharp, stinging ache that spread like wildfire, consuming the air around you. You stared at him, the sting of his words leaving you breathless, your heart sinking as if it had been thrown into the abyss.

“No,” you spat, your voice shaking with a mix of anger and hurt. “You don’t get to talk to me like that.”

Joel’s eyes flashed, his body going rigid as he turned fully to face you. “Excuse me?” His voice was dangerously low, like the quiet before a storm, but you didn’t back down. Not this time.

“You heard me.” Your chest was still heaving, adrenaline still coursing through your veins, but your resolve was stronger than your fear. “You don’t get to treat me like I’m some… problem you have to deal with. I’m out here trying to do my part, same as you.”

His expression darkened, disbelief twisting his features. “Do your part? You almost got yourself killed back there! If I hadn’t been here—"

“If you hadn’t been here?” you cut him off, your voice rising as the anger overtook the fear. “What, I’d be dead? Is that what you think? That I can’t handle myself? I’ve been on patrols long before you showed up. I’ve survived without you. Just fine.”

Joel scoffed, his lips curling in frustration. “Yeah? Didn’t look like it just now.”

His words were another blow, sharp and biting, but you refused to let them break you. “I didn’t need you to save me, Joel. I would’ve figured it out.”

His eyes narrowed, his jaw working as he fought to control the anger simmering just beneath the surface. “You think this is a game? You think you can just figure it out when you’ve got a knife to your throat?” His voice was loud now, booming in the small space, filled with a frustration that felt all too personal.

“You could’ve died. And for what?”

“Fuck you, Joel.”

The words slipped from your lips before you could stop them, raw and jagged, fueled by the fire burning in your chest. You didn’t care about the consequences, didn’t care that his eyes had gone dark with shock. You were done. Done with being treated like something fragile and disposable.

Joel stared at you, his body tense, his mouth slightly open like he hadn’t expected the bite of your words. For a moment, the space between you felt like a battlefield, the silence pulsing with the weight of everything unsaid. The anger that simmered in you wasn’t just from this moment—it was months of pent-up frustration, of feeling like you were constantly crashing against a wall with him, never allowed in.

Your chest heaved, your hands trembling with the adrenaline still coursing through you.

“I don’t need you to save me,” you said, your voice shaking with the force of what you felt. “I never asked for your help, Joel. And I sure as hell don’t need you treating me like I’m some burden. So fuck you.”

His eyes flashed with something—anger, guilt, maybe something softer, but he quickly buried it beneath that familiar cold exterior. His jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he might snap back, might throw something just as harsh in your face. But he didn’t. Instead, his gaze dropped, just for a second, like your words had found their mark.

“Fine,” he muttered, his voice low and hard. “You don’t need my help? Then don’t ask for it.” He turned sharply, storming out of the cabin without another word, his footsteps heavy in the snow, leaving you standing there in the cold, breathless and burning with the aftershocks of everything you’d just said.

But even as the silence swallowed him up, you knew the storm between you wasn’t over—it had only just begun.

[manonamora-if]

The 100% Good Twine SugarCube Guide!

The 100% Good Twine SugarCube Guide is a coding guide for the SugarCube format of Twine. It is meant as an alternative to the SugarCube documentation, with further explanations, interactive examples, and organised by difficulty. The goal of this guide is to make the learning curve for new SugarCube user less steep, and provide a comprehensive and wide look over the format.

VIEW / DOWNLOAD THE GUIDE!!!!

The Guide is compartmentalised in (currently) four categories:

THE BASICS or the absolute basics to start with SugarCube. No need for extra knowledge. Just the base needed to make something.

THE BASICS + adding interactivity, and creating a fully rounded IF game May require a bit of CSS knowledge (formatting rules)

INTERMEDIATE MODE adding more customisation and complex code Will probably require some CSS knowledge, and maybe some JavaScript

ADVANCE USE the most complex macros and APIs Will surely require some JavaScript/jQuery knowledge

Note: The Advanced Use includes all the APIs, macros, and methods not covered by the previous categories. This includes code requiring very advance knowledge of JavaScript/jQuery to be used properly.

Each category explains many aspects of the format, tailored to a specific level of the user. More simpler explanations and examples are available in earlier chapters, compared to the later ones.

If something is unclear, you found a mistake, you would like more examples in the guide, or would like a feature covered, let me know!

The Guide currently covers all macros (as of SugarCube v.2.37.3), all functions and methods, and APIs. It touches upon the use of HTML, CSS, JavaScript and jQuery, when relevant. It also discusses aspects of accessibility.

The Guides also provides a list of further resources, for the different coding languages.

The Guide is available in a downloadable form for offline view:

HTML file that can be opened in Twine

.tw file that can be opened in Twine

source code, separating the chapters, .js and .css files

GITHUB REPO | RAISE AN ISSUE | TWINE RESOURCES TWEEGO | TEMPLATES | CSCRIPT 2 SG GUIDE

Twine® is an “an open-source tool for telling interactive, non-linear stories” originally created by Chris Klimas maintained in several different repositories (Twinery.org). Twine is also a registered trademark of the Interactive Fiction Technology Foundation.

SugarCube is a free (gratis and libre) coding format for Twine/Twee created and maintained by TME.

VIEW / DOWNLOAD THE GUIDE!!!!

As of this release (v2.0.0), it is up to date with the version 2.37.3. If you are looking for the guide covering SugarCube 2.36.1, you can find it on my GitHub.

Note: the Guide is now complete. There won't be further substantial updates.

[genshin-impact-updates]

Version 4.7 Quest Notices Compilation

New Story Unlocked - Archon Quest Chapter IV: Act VI "Bedtime Story"

After listening to the bedtime story that day, all the hilichurls had a dream.

The young soul waved goodbye, and the people and sun slept together warmly.

After reaching the corresponding Adventure Rank and completing the prerequisite quests, Archon Quest Chapter IV: Act VI "Bedtime Story" will appear in the Quest Menu.

(After these quests are unlocked, access the Quest Menu by: pressing "J" on PC (default settings); tapping the Quest Menu icon in the top-left corner on mobile; or pressing and holding L1 on PS5™ or PS4™ to open the shortcut wheel and select the Quest Menu icon.)

The "Focused Experience Mode" function is available for this quest.

〓Quest Start Time〓

After the Version 4.7 update, Archon Quest Chapter IV: Act VI "Bedtime Story" will be permanently available

〓Archon Quest Chapter IV: Act VI "Bedtime Story" Unlock Criteria〓

• Reach Adventure Rank 40 or above

• Complete Archon Quest Chapter IV: Act V "Masquerade of the Guilty"

"PlayStation", "PS5", "PS4", "DualSense", "DUALSHOCK" are registered trademarks or trademarks of Sony Interactive Entertainment Inc.

"Rapperia Chapter" Story Quest Overview

Travelers who reach the required Adventure Rank and complete the prerequisite quests will be able to use a Story Key to unlock Clorinde's Story Quest "Rapperia Chapter."

The Story Quest feature is unlocked at Adventure Rank 26. Story Keys are obtained by claiming Daily Commission rewards (one Story Key is awarded for every eight Daily Commission rewards claimed).

〓Quest Start Time〓

Permanently available after the Version 4.7 update

〓Quest Unlock Criteria〓

Adventure Rank 40 or above

Complete Archon Quest Chapter IV: Act V "Masquerade of the Guilty"

And complete Furina's Story Quest - Animula Choragi Chapter: Act I "The Little Oceanid"

[pdriesta]

CHAPTER ONE

“i want something that i know is real”

pairing — judexblack!girl

genres — fluff, slow burn, workplace romance (she’s a pt)

warnings — sexual themes (minors dni)

word count — 6k

summary — y/n, a rising physiotherapist, has just been promoted to work with real madrid's men's team. after a difficult breakup, she's determined to keep things professional. but when jude bellingham, the club's charming new star, sets his sights on her, maintaining boundaries becomes harder than ever. can she resist the pull, or will she risk everything for a love she swore she’d never fall for again?

an — i am so sorry for the delay! here’s chapter one (for the second time LOL) . i found the taglist thankfully through a reblog so let me know if any of you have reblogged the previous chapters it would save me so much time <3

masterlist

the sun was setting over valdebebas, casting long shadows across the training pitches as the players finished up a particularly grueling session. jude bellingham was among the last to leave the field, sweat dripping from his brow as he wiped his face with the back of his hand. his muscles ached, the intensity of the training pushing him to his limits, but he relished the challenge.

as he made his way to the physio room, his thoughts were already on y/n. he’d been looking for an excuse to talk to her again, and after today’s session, he had a perfect reason.

when jude entered the physio room, it was quiet except for the soft hum of the air conditioning. y/n was there, as he’d hoped, focused on organizing some equipment. she looked up as he walked in, her expression shifting from concentration to a warm, professional smile.

“hey, y/n,” jude greeted, his voice slightly breathless from the workout. “i think i might need some of that magic you worked on me the other day. today’s session was brutal.”

y/n nodded, her eyes scanning him with a practiced eye. “you look like you’ve been through it,” she remarked, a hint of concern in her tone. “come on, take a seat, and let’s see what we’re dealing with.”

jude followed her instructions, lowering himself onto the treatment table with a wince. “you’re telling me. i don’t think i’ve ever run that much in one session.”

y/n smiled softly as she gathered her supplies. “that’s madrid for you. they push you hard because they expect the best.”

“yeah, well,” jude leaned back on his elbows, letting out a dramatic sigh, “i guess that means i’ll be seeing a lot of you, then.”

there it was—the flirty edge to his voice that had become a bit of a trademark in their interactions. y/n, ever the professional, chose to ignore the bait, focusing instead on her work.

“you should be careful what you wish for,” she replied evenly, adjusting the height of the treatment table. “if you’re here too often, it means you’re not taking care of yourself.”

“trust me, i’ll do my best to stay out of trouble,” jude said, flashing her a charming grin. “but i wouldn’t mind having you around more often. makes the pain a little more bearable.”

y/n rolled her eyes playfully, but she didn’t comment, keeping her focus on his treatment. “let’s take a look at those legs,” she instructed, patting the space between his knees. “you can sit up for this.”

jude complied, sitting up straight as y/n moved to stand between his legs, her hands expertly probing the muscles in his thighs. the closeness of their positions was not lost on either of them. jude could feel the warmth of her body, the subtle brush of her arm against his as she worked, and he found himself leaning in just a little, his eyes tracing the curve of her jaw, the softness of her lips.

but it was y/n who felt the shift the most. as she focused on the treatment, her fingers gently kneading the tense muscles in jude’s legs, she couldn’t help but take in his presence. up close, she noticed details she hadn’t before—the way his skin glistened slightly from the workout, the sharpness of his jawline, the deep brown of his eyes that held a certain intensity. it was no wonder social media was obsessed with him; he was undeniably handsome, and his charisma only added to the allure.

jude watched her intently as she worked, noting every small detail—the way her brow furrowed in concentration, the slight purse of her lips as she focused on the task at hand. each movement she made was precise, her hands skilled and confident, yet there was a certain grace in the way she touched his sore muscles, almost like she was pouring care into every motion. it was hard not to be captivated by her; she seemed so immersed in what she was doing, completely in her element, and there was something about that quiet confidence that drew him in even more.

as her fingers pressed and kneaded the tension from his muscles, jude couldn't help but feel his body start to relax under her touch. it was as if every knot of stress was being expertly unraveled, leaving behind nothing but a soothing warmth. his muscles softened, giving in to the gentle pressure she applied, and he could feel the lines between professional care and something more personal start to blur.

on her end, y/n was trying to stay focused, reminding herself to keep it strictly professional, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. as her hands moved over the hard planes of his back and shoulders, she couldn't help but notice just how solid he was—all muscle, lean and strong beneath her fingers. she could feel an unexpected attraction building within her, a warmth spreading through her chest that she hadn’t felt in a long time.

the tension between them was palpable, an almost electric charge in the air that neither of them could ignore. jude felt it too, a stirring of something deeper that went beyond just the relief of having his muscles worked on. as her hands continued to glide over his skin, he had to stifle a groan, the sensation of her touch sending a wave of unexpected pleasure through him. it took everything in him to keep it together, not wanting to make the situation more complicated than it already felt.

“you’re pretty good at this, you know,” jude finally said, his voice low and smooth, trying to bring some levity to the situation while still testing the waters.

y/n glanced up at him, caught off guard by the softness in his tone. “thanks. i’ve had a lot of practice,” she replied, keeping her tone light despite the flutter in her chest.

he flashed a smile, leaning into her touch a little more. “ever thought about switching careers? maybe you could be a magician—making all my pain disappear like this.”

y/n felt her cheeks heat up at his playful remark, a shy smile tugging at her lips as she shook her head. “i think i’ll stick to what i know. besides, i’m not sure magic is really my thing.”

jude chuckled, the sound deep and rich, and for a moment, they just held each other's gaze, the air between them thick with unspoken thoughts. she quickly looked away, focusing back on her work, but the moment lingered, neither of them quite ready to break the connection that had formed between them.

y/n felt a flutter in her chest, but she quickly pushed it aside, reminding herself of the line she needed to maintain. “well, if you want to keep feeling this good, you’ll need to follow my advice,” she said, her tone returning to its usual professional demeanor. “stretching, rest, and hydration. don’t forget it.”

“anything for you,” jude quipped, though there was a sincerity in his tone that made y/n pause.

she shook her head, trying to suppress the smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “i’m serious, jude. if you don’t take care of yourself, you’ll be back here before you know it.”

“i hear you, y/n,” jude said, his voice softer now, the playful edge giving way to something more genuine. “and for what it’s worth, i do appreciate you looking out for me.”

y/n nodded, her heart skipping a beat at the sincerity in his eyes. “it’s my job,” she replied, though the words felt a bit heavier than usual. “and besides, we can’t have one of our star players sidelined, can we?”

“no, we can’t,” jude agreed, his voice dropping to a near whisper as he looked at her. “but i think it’s more than just that.”

the air between them felt charged, a quiet intensity lingering as they held each other’s gaze. y/n could feel her resolve wavering slightly, the closeness of their positions making it harder to keep the professional distance she’d tried so hard to maintain.

as y/n finished working on jude’s leg, she hesitated for a moment, her usual professionalism wavering. she could sense there was something more on his mind, something that went beyond the aches and pains of training. after a brief pause, she decided to break the unspoken barrier she’d been carefully maintaining.

“hey, jude,” she began, her voice softer than before, “how are you feeling about the first game? it’s coming up pretty soon.”

jude looked at her, surprised by the shift in her tone. he hadn’t expected her to ask, but something in the way she did made him feel like he could open up. he let out a small sigh, leaning back on his hands as he considered his words.

“honestly?” jude started, his voice tinged with uncertainty. “i’m nervous. it’s a huge club, and there’s so much expectation. i’ve been dreaming about this for years, but now that it’s here, it’s kind of overwhelming. i just keep thinking—what if i don’t live up to it? what if the fans don’t love me the way they did back in dortmund?”

y/n paused in her work, her eyes meeting his with a gentle, understanding gaze. she could see the vulnerability in him, the weight of the pressure he was carrying. setting aside her role for a moment, she spoke from the heart.

“jude, it’s completely normal to feel that way,” y/n said, her voice warm and reassuring. “real madrid is one of the biggest clubs in the world, and with that comes a lot of pressure. but you were signed because they saw something special in you. the fans are going to see that too.”

jude listened intently, his eyes never leaving hers. there was something in the way she spoke—steady, confident, and genuine—that calmed the storm inside him.

“you’ve worked hard to get here,” y/n continued, “and that work isn’t going to go unnoticed. the fans, they’re passionate, yes, but they also appreciate hard work, dedication, and talent. you’ve got all of that. just be yourself out there, play the way you know how, and they’ll love you for it.”

jude let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. “thanks, y/n,” he said quietly, his voice sincere. “that actually helps a lot. i’ve been so caught up in my head, worrying about everything that could go wrong.”

y/n smiled, giving his shoulder a light squeeze. “it’s going to be okay, jude. you’ve got this. and remember, you’re not alone—you’ve got a whole team behind you, and now, you’ve got me looking out for you too.”

a small smile tugged at the corners of jude’s lips, and he felt a warmth spreading through him at her words. “i appreciate that, y/n. really. it means a lot.”

they shared a quiet moment, the air between them shifting from the playful banter they’d grown accustomed to, to something more meaningful. y/n could feel the connection deepening, a mutual understanding that went beyond their professional roles.

“just promise me one thing,” y/n said, her voice lightening as she stepped back, returning to her professional demeanor. “when you’re out there on the pitch, remember to enjoy it. this is what you’ve worked for. let yourself have fun.”

jude nodded, his smile widening. “i promise. and i’ll make sure to give you a good reason to keep me in top shape.”

y/n laughed softly, shaking her head. “i’ll hold you to that, bellingham. now, go get some rest. you’ve earned it.”

as jude left the room, he felt lighter, more at ease with the challenges ahead. y/n’s words echoed in his mind, a steady reminder that he was more than capable of handling.

as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the real madrid facility, y/n found herself alone in the corridors, the hum of the fluorescent lights the only sound breaking the quiet. she was one of the last to leave, her habit of staying late a comforting ritual, a way to unwind from the day's relentless pace and ensure everything was in order. tonight, however, her mind was preoccupied with a different kind of noise.

earlier, she’d run into laura, one of her old colleagues from the women’s team, who had dropped by to visit. laura’s eyes had lit up when she saw y/n, the excitement in her voice unmistakable.

“i can’t believe it, y/n!” laura had exclaimed, her enthusiasm palpable. “jude bellingham—he’s here! i’ve seen all the photos and videos, and he’s just as attractive in person. what’s he like? have you met him?”

y/n had nodded, a faint, polite smile on her lips. “yes, i’ve met him. he’s… charming.”

“charming?” laura had raised an eyebrow, clearly expecting more. “come on, give me the details. is he as good-looking up close? i bet the girls must be falling over themselves.”

y/n’s thoughts had drifted back to their brief interactions. jude was undeniably attractive—his striking features, the way his eyes held a mixture of intensity and vulnerability. she’d noticed it all, yet she had no intention of letting her guard down. her role was professional, and she had no room for distractions, especially not of this kind.

“he’s very focused,” y/n had replied, trying to keep her tone neutral. “and yes, he’s as handsome as you’d expect. but I’m his physio, so my focus is on his recovery and performance, not his looks.”

“oh, I get it,” laura had said, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “but don’t you ever think about... well, what it’d be like if things were different? I mean, if you weren’t working with him?”

y/n had felt a twinge of discomfort at the question. she had not allowed herself to entertain such thoughts, not after everything she’d been through. she’d always been one of the last to leave the facility, a habit that allowed her to keep her distance from the personal drama that could easily complicate her life. her thoughts had drifted to her past with javier, her toxic ex who had belittled her in every way imaginable.

javier had been her childhood friend, someone she thought she knew inside out. but once they started dating, his true colors had shown. his comments had ranged from derogatory remarks about her looks to nasty jabs about her work and sexuality. the once familiar face had become a source of disdain, his words leaving scars that she was still working to heal.

the thought of entering another complicated relationship, especially with someone as high-profile as jude, made her anxious. her job was her sanctuary, a place where she felt in control, where she could escape the memories of javier’s cruelty. the idea of mixing personal feelings with her professional life was a risk she was not willing to take.

as y/n had watched laura walk away, her heart heavy with unspoken fears, she had felt a mix of longing and resolve. she admired jude’s charisma and attractiveness, but her past experiences had taught her the importance of keeping a clear boundary between her personal and professional lives. there was too much at stake, and she was determined not to repeat past mistakes.

the empty facility seemed to echo her thoughts as she continued her evening routine, methodically checking each detail. jude’s presence was a reminder of the world outside her carefully maintained boundaries, a world that, while tempting, was fraught with risks she wasn’t ready to face. she remained focused, her resolve strengthened by the quiet solitude of the facility, knowing that while she might appreciate jude’s attractiveness, she would not let it disrupt the professional distance she had fought so hard to maintain.

as the final whistle blew, the stadium erupted in a roar of jubilation. y/n stood on the sidelines, her heart racing as she watched jude bellingham weave through defenders with a fluidity and grace that made the game look effortless. the staff around her were just as engrossed, their eyes fixed on the field, their murmurs of approval punctuating the air.

y/n’s gaze was locked on jude, her admiration growing with each precise pass and each calculated move. she had seen him in training, had felt the intensity of his drive, but seeing him perform in a live match was something entirely different. the way he commanded the ball, the confidence in every stride—it was a testament to why he was considered one of the brightest talents in football.

and then, it happened. jude received a perfectly timed pass, his body shifting into position with the grace of a seasoned player. in a swift, decisive moment, he struck the ball with precision, sending it soaring into the back of the net. the stadium exploded into cheers, and y/n felt a surge of pride and excitement that she hadn’t anticipated. jude’s first game, and he’d already made such an impact.

as the players celebrated, y/n watched jude with a mixture of awe and joy. his face was alight with exhilaration, a broad grin spreading across his features as his teammates surrounded him. she could see the sheer relief in his eyes, a weight lifted off his shoulders as he soaked in the adulation from the fans.

when the final whistle blew and the players began their exit, y/n remained on the sidelines, a quiet smile on her face. she felt a deep sense of satisfaction, knowing she’d played a part in helping him reach this moment. as jude made his way toward the tunnel, still riding the high of victory, he glanced around, his gaze searching for someone.

to y/n’s surprise, jude’s eyes locked onto hers. with a burst of energy fueled by adrenaline, he jogged over, his smile widening. “y/n!” he called out, his voice filled with unrestrained joy.

y/n’s heart skipped a beat as jude approached, her mind racing. she had expected a handshake, maybe a polite acknowledgment, but this was different. as he reached her, he extended his hand for a handshake, but before she could react, he pulled her into a hug.

the contact was electric, a rush of warmth and energy that left y/n momentarily frozen. jude’s embrace was firm and enthusiastic, and she could feel the thudding of his heart, the exhilaration that pulsed through him. her arms remained stiff at her sides for a moment, her cheeks flushing with a mix of surprise and embarrassment. the scent of his cologne, the heat of his body—it was overwhelming. she could sense the bewildered looks from some of the staff nearby, their curiosity piqued by the unexpected display.

“jude,” she managed to say, her voice barely more than a whisper. “this is… unexpected.”

jude pulled back slightly, his hands still resting lightly on her shoulders. his eyes sparkled with mischief and a hint of flirtation. “i couldn’t help it,” he said, his voice low and smooth. “i wanted to thank you, and i’m just so... thrilled right now. i didn’t think i’d score on my first game. i was nervous, but you gave me the confidence i needed.”

y/n’s heart fluttered at his words. she was touched by his sincerity, though her professional demeanor was struggling to keep up with the personal breach. “i’m glad you felt that way,” she said, forcing a smile as she tried to regain her composure. “congratulations on the goal, jude. you played amazingly.”

“thanks, y/n,” he said, his voice dropping to a softer tone, his gaze lingering on her. “you know, I’m already looking forward to tomorrow’s session. can’t wait to see you again.”

y/n felt her cheeks heat up further at his words. she was already flustered from the hug, and his flirtatious remark only added to her embarrassment. she struggled to find her voice, her usual professional distance feeling even more crucial now. “i’ll be here,” she managed to say, her voice a touch shy. “see you then.”

jude chuckled, his eyes twinkling with playful intent. “i’ll make sure to keep my muscles in top shape just for you. and who knows, maybe I’ll bring some of that winning energy to our session.”

y/n felt her face warm at his flirtatious comment. she fumbled with her words, trying to maintain her professional composure. “um, that sounds... good. just, um, don’t overdo it out there.”

jude’s smile widened, his gaze lingering on her with a mix of admiration and affection. “promise I’ll do my best,” he said, his voice softening. “and I’ll make sure to give you a reason to keep me in top shape.”

as he turned to head toward the locker room, y/n watched him go, her thoughts a whirlwind of emotions. the brief embrace and his flirtatious remark had been a jolt, a reminder of how complicated emotions could become when you least expected it. she sighed softly, the reality of her role settling back into place as she prepared to head home.

when she left the facility, her thoughts were still with jude. she admired his talent and charisma, but she was acutely aware of the need to maintain her distance. the unexpected hug and his flirtatious comment had been a reminder of the fine line she was walking—between personal feelings and professional boundaries.

the lunchroom at the facility was bustling with activity as staff and players refueled after a demanding morning. y/n sat at a corner table, her usual spot, with a book in one hand and her lunch in the other. she preferred to keep to herself during these moments, finding solace in her own company amidst the chaos.

as she was about to take a bite of her sandwich, the familiar sound of footsteps drew closer. she looked up to see jude bellingham approaching, his smile as bright as ever. her heart skipped a beat, a mixture of surprise and apprehension swirling inside her. jude had already made quite an impression, and now, here he was, interrupting her solitary lunch.

“hey, y/n,” jude greeted, his voice warm and casual. “mind if i join you?”

y/n blinked, caught off guard by his sudden appearance. she glanced around the room, noting the curious glances from some of the staff members. she was about to protest, but jude was already pulling out a chair and sitting down across from her.

“uh, sure,” y/n replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “but, uh, why are you here? i mean, it’s lunchtime.”

jude chuckled, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. “why not? i figured i’d keep you company. besides, i didn’t get a chance to really chat with you after the game.”

y/n felt a rush of warmth at his words, but she tried to maintain her composure. “you didn’t have to,” she said, her tone a mix of curiosity and caution. “i’m just doing my job, you know.”

“right,” jude said, leaning in slightly. “but i enjoy talking with you. and, well, it’s not every day i get to sit with someone who knows what’s really going on behind the scenes.”

y/n felt a knot of nervousness in her stomach. she had been trying to keep things professional, but jude’s relaxed demeanor and his easy smile were slowly eroding her defenses. “you’re not playing games with me, are you?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly. “what’s your intention here?”

jude’s expression softened, and he leaned back, a thoughtful look on his face. “games? no. i’m just trying to get to know you better. you’ve been really supportive, and i appreciate that. i guess i just want to be friends—or more if that’s where things lead.”

y/n was taken aback by his openness. her mind raced, struggling to process his words. she had always been careful with her emotions, especially after her past experiences. the idea of letting someone in, even in a friendly capacity, was daunting.

“friends,” she repeated, more to herself than to him. “but why me? you have plenty of people to talk to.”

jude’s smile remained steady, but there was a hint of sincerity in his eyes. “you seem different. you’re grounded and real. it’s refreshing. plus, i feel like i can be myself around you. i don’t get that feeling with everyone.”

y/n felt her cheeks flush, a mix of embarrassment and surprise. she was used to being the reserved one, keeping her emotions in check. but jude’s words were slowly breaking down her walls.

“so, uh, what do you want to talk about?” y/n asked, her voice a bit shy. “i mean, if we’re going to be friends.”

jude’s eyes lit up, and he leaned in slightly. “let’s start with something simple. tell me more about you. what’s your story? i’d love to hear about it.”

as they continued to talk, y/n found herself opening up more than she had intended. she spoke about her background, her move from spain, and her work at the facility. jude listened intently, asking questions and sharing stories of his own. with each passing minute, y/n felt a growing sense of comfort, though it was tinged with fear.

inside, y/n was wrestling with her emotions. she was scared of how easily she was letting her guard down, and how much she was enjoying jude’s company. the fear of becoming too attached, of losing control over her carefully maintained boundaries, was a constant undercurrent.

despite her internal struggle, she couldn’t deny that jude’s presence was comforting. he was genuine, and the way he looked at her with such attention made her feel valued in a way she hadn’t experienced in a long time.

as their conversation continued, y/n found herself smiling and laughing more freely. the lunchroom seemed to fade into the background, leaving just the two of them and their growing connection.the lunchroom was slowly emptying out, but jude and y/n wouldn’t part even as they said their good re still deep in conversation. jude leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as he listened intently. y/n, though still somewhat guarded, found herself drawn to the ease of their dialogue.

“so, tell me,” jude said, his tone light and curious, “what got you into physiotherapy? it seems like such a demanding field.”

y/n took a sip of her water, considering her response. “it’s kind of a long story,” she began, her voice tentative but steady. “i’ve always been interested in how the body works, how it heals. it started with me playing sports in school and getting injured a lot. i wanted to understand how to recover faster and help others do the same.”

jude’s eyes lit up with interest. “that’s actually really cool. it’s amazing how personal experiences can shape our career paths. i had a similar thing with football. after a few serious injuries, i became fascinated with how the body responds to training and recovery.”

y/n raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “so, you’ve had your fair share of injuries too?”

jude nodded, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “yeah, a few. nothing too serious, but enough to make me appreciate the work that goes into staying fit and healthy. and, of course, having good physiotherapists like you.”

y/n blushed slightly at the compliment but tried to keep her demeanor professional. “well, it’s all part of the job. making sure players like you stay in top shape.

“and you’re doing a great job at it,” jude said earnestly. “i’ve noticed the difference already.”

y/n’s heart fluttered at his words, but she quickly pushed the feeling aside. “thanks. it’s good to hear that my work is making a difference.”

“absolutely,” jude agreed. “so, what do you do for fun when you’re not working? any hobbies or interests outside of physiotherapy?”

y/n hesitated for a moment, her mind racing. she wasn’t used to sharing much about herself, especially not with someone she didn’t know well. “i like reading,” she finally admitted. “and, um, cooking. it’s a nice break from the routine.”

“really? that’s awesome,” jude said, his enthusiasm genuine. “i’ve been trying to cook more. maybe you can give me some tips. i’m still learning.”

y/n laughed softly, feeling a bit more relaxed. “sure, i can do that. just don’t expect gourmet meals right away.”

“hey, i’ll take any advice i can get,” jude said, grinning. “what’s your favorite dish to cook?”

“hmm,” y/n pondered, a smile touching her lips. “i’d have to say paella. it’s a bit of a project, but it’s worth it.”

jude’s eyes widened in interest. “paella? that sounds amazing. i’ve heard it’s quite the experience to make.”

“yeah, it can be,” y/n said, feeling a bit more animated. “it’s all about getting the right balance of flavors. it’s a bit like... well, like a football team. everyone has to play their part.”

“nice analogy,” jude said, nodding in appreciation. “so, do you have any other hidden talents or interests i should know about?”

y/n chuckled, shaking her head. “i don’t think there’s anything particularly hidden. i’m pretty straightforward, i guess.”

“straightforward can be a good thing,” jude said with a wink. “i think it’s refreshing. but don’t be surprised if i keep asking you questions to learn more.”

y/n felt a flush rise to her cheeks again. “i suppose that’s fair. but don’t expect me to reveal everything at once.”

“deal,” jude said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “i’ll take it slow. so, tell me about something you’re passionate about, something that makes you excited.”

y/n looked down, her thoughts drifting. “i guess... i’m passionate about helping people. seeing someone come in with an injury and then watching them recover and get back to doing what they love—there’s something really rewarding about that.”

jude’s gaze softened, and he nodded thoughtfully. “that sounds incredible. it must be really fulfilling to see the progress firsthand.”

“it is,” y/n agreed, her voice growing warmer. “it’s what keeps me motivated, even on the tough days.”

jude’s eyes met hers, and there was a moment of quiet understanding between them. “you’re really dedicated to your work. i can tell it’s more than just a job for you.”

y/n smiled, though her heart was racing. “yeah, it is. and you’re pretty dedicated to football, from what i’ve seen.”

jude laughed, a genuine, easy sound. “i guess we both have our passions. it’s nice to find someone who understands that drive.”

y/n nodded, feeling a mix of warmth and apprehension. “it is. and i appreciate you being open with me. it’s not always easy to find common ground.”

“i’m glad we did,” jude said, his smile bright and sincere. “so, what’s one thing you’d like to do that you haven’t had the chance to yet?”

y/n thought for a moment, her eyes drifting to the window. “i’d love to travel more. there are so many places i’d like to see.”

“traveling is great,” jude agreed. “maybe one day you’ll get the chance. and hey, if you ever need a travel buddy, let me know.”

y/n’s heart skipped a beat at his casual invitation. she laughed softly, a bit shy. “we’ll see about that.”

jeventually, the lunch break drew to a close, and y/n realized she had been talking with jude for a lot longer than she had intended. she looked at him, her expression a mix of relief and apprehension.

“i should get going,” she said, her voice tinged with shyness. “but, um, it was nice talking with you, jude.”

jude’s smile was warm and encouraging. “same here, y/n. i’m looking forward to more of these chats. and who knows, maybe we’ll find some common interests.”

y/n nodded, a small smile playing at her lips. “yeah, maybe.”

as she gathered her things and prepared to leave, y/n’s mind was still buzzing from their conversation. she was more comfortable around jude than she had planned to be, and that scared her. but she couldn’t deny the small, hopeful part of her that was looking forward to their next interaction.

as jude walked away, y/n watched him, her mind buzzing with the unexpected connection they’d formed. she was starting to let her guard down, and it scared her. she didn’t want to complicate things, especially with her past and her professional boundaries. but a part of her couldn’t deny the small thrill of getting to know someone who seemed to understand her so well.

as the day went on, y/n found herself replaying their conversation, trying to make sense of her feelings. she was still unsure about what the future held, but for now, she couldn’t help but look forward to their next interaction, even as she tried to keep her emotions in check.

as the final echoes of the day’s activity faded, y/n found herself alone in the physio room, the quiet a stark contrast to the lively bustle of earlier. the fading daylight cast a soft glow through the windows, illuminating the room in a gentle amber hue. she methodically tidied up the space, her movements automatic as her mind replayed the day’s events. the room, now peaceful and still, was the perfect setting for her thoughts to unravel.

the memory of jude's playful banter, his genuine interest, and the unexpected hug replayed in her mind. she tried to focus on the task at hand, but her thoughts kept drifting back to their conversation. it was easy to get lost in the way he looked at her, the way he made her feel like her thoughts and feelings mattered.

with a sigh, y/n leaned against the counter, her thoughts swirling. she was acutely aware of the delicate balance she was trying to maintain. her past with javier had left scars that were not easily forgotten, and the professional boundaries she’d set for herself were there for a reason. yet, jude’s presence was a constant, tantalizing distraction, pulling her into uncharted territory.

she glanced at the clock on the wall, noting how late it had gotten. she was often one of the last to leave, finding solace in the quiet after the bustling activity of the day. it gave her time to think, to process, and to escape from the complexities of her interactions with others. tonight was no different, except that her thoughts were unusually tangled.

as she packed up the last of the supplies, her phone buzzed with a message from laura. y/n glanced at the screen and read the text, but her mind was still occupied with thoughts of jude. she wondered if he truly understood the potential impact of his actions on her. did he know how much she wanted to keep her distance, or was he simply oblivious to the emotional turmoil he was causing?

y/n shook her head, trying to clear the haze of confusion. she reminded herself of her priorities—her work, her self-preservation, and her commitment to keeping things professional. it was essential to remain focused, despite the fluttering feelings that jude’s attention had stirred up.

as she finally finished tidying the room, y/n took a deep breath and headed for the exit. the evening air was cool against her skin, a refreshing contrast to the heat of her internal conflict. she walked to her car with a sense of resolve, determined to sort through her feelings and not let them cloud her judgment.

she knew that the next time she saw jude, things might be different. their interactions had the potential to deepen, and she would need to be ready to navigate the complexities that came with it. but for now, as she drove away from the facility, she focused on the road ahead, both literally and figuratively.

her thoughts were a tangled web of excitement and apprehension, but as she glanced at the empty passenger seat, she reminded herself that she was in control of her own path. whatever happened next, she would face it with the same dedication and professionalism that had guided her this far.

next

© PDRIESTA 2024

taglist — @sinners-98-world @stephiii29 @kcharlyy @landosgirlxoxo @judesthighveins @ilovelifes-world @cinderellawithashoe @imnyt @miniemonie2001 @lunamelona @treble-snot

[demigod-shenanigans]

The choiceless hope in grief

Summary: Leo Valdez has lived and died for the gods. Their war has shaped his life since he was a baby. With Gaia defeated, he sort of hopes he can finally rest. He has friends and some semblance of home to return to for the first time since he was eight years old. Just this once, he allows himself to hope the good things might stick.

But the gods aren’t done with them just yet, by the time Leo finds his way back, Jason is gone.

This time, Leo decides he’s done just taking the Fates’ bullshit lying down. If getting his best friend back means striking a deal with the gods and venturing into the Underworld… well, it’s probably not even the most reckless thing he’s ever done.

The caveat of said deal? He has to trust Jason will follow him, or his self-doubt will doom them both.

And after the life he’s lived, Leo is so intricately familiar with self-doubt that he could probably trademark the word.

Or: The only possible way for Orpheus to succeed is if he learns to think of himself as a person worth loving.

Word Count for chapter 1: ~5k

Rating: Teen and Up

So! *claps hands together* I’ve been threatening you guys with my Orpheus Eurydice valgrace fic for a while! Technically I wanted to wait to post this until I’m completely done writing the fic, and I mostly intend to stick to that! I’m only posting this now because I have a minor surgery tomorrow and I’d rather be anxious about fic related things than about the surgery in question. So, take this chapter as a preview of sorts, more to come soon-ish but probably not immediately!

A couple of important notes before we start:

-TW for suicidal ideation. It’s less Leo actually wanting to die and more his canon behavior of “I’m doing something extremely reckless that might succeed but if it doesn’t, my death is an acceptable consequence”, paired with general grief related self-loathing, but if you think you’re not in the right headspace to read about that, come back when you are or at least tread carefully. This fic pics up at the end of The Burning Maze, so especially the beginning is pretty heavy on the grief stuff.

-Since ToA is vaguely canon to this fic, Leo and Calypso are technically dating in the beginning, but they don’t really interact positively as a couple (honestly they don’t interact that much in general) and break up pretty early on. Just be aware in advance that they’re still together for a little bit.

-Fic title is from Talk by Hozier which is maybe a painfully obvious pick but it was too perfect for me not to use it.

Chapter 1: Leo and Piper have an extended sleepover

It wasn’t a discussion between Leo and Piper whether or not to go to Jason’s funeral. They came to the decision that they wouldn’t silently—or as silently as one could come to an agreement when all parties involved were sobbing.

Maybe it should have been a discussion. There was a part of Leo that worried he’d regret this later—his refusal to take this chance to say goodbye and let himself grieve.

But Leo remembered his mother’s funeral. Remembered the way his aunt Rosa had looked at him like she knew his mother’s death had been his fault. Leo couldn’t stand the thought of people looking at him like that again.

He also didn’t remember his mother’s funeral bringing him any sense of closure or comfort. He’d stood at her grave, afterwards, just as desperate and afraid and utterly inconsolable as he’d been before the funeral, except it had suddenly felt sickeningly final. The wound it had torn in his soul had kept bleeding for years, and the scars would stay forever. He didn’t need any of Apollo’s shitty oracles to know Jason’s death would be exactly the same.

At this point, Leo was pretty sure his sanity was being held together by a combination of jokes and a truly questionable amount of duct tape.

Beyond all that, though, Camp Jupiter was a battlefield right now. It would continue to be a battlefield for the foreseeable future.

Leo wasn’t a coward. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go back and help. But one of his best friends was already in a box, and there was no way in hell he’d risk the other.

With how tightly Piper was clinging to him, maybe she was thinking the same thing. 

For all his big talk about dragon escorts, Festus did most of the actual escorting on his own, occasionally torching what Leo hoped were monsters and not random public monuments. Leo, for his part, spent most of the journey crammed into the backseat of the car next to Piper, sandwiched between her and a bunch of moving boxes that seemed determined to flatten him into a Leo-shaped pancake whenever they took a sharp turn.

He’d spent so long thinking about seeing her and Jason again. 

He’d talked Calypso’s ear off about them the whole journey, to the point where it had clearly started to annoy her. He’d thought about various ridiculous entrances he could make, and the fact that he’d probably get yelled at, but he’d also thought about sitting together by the campfire, sharing nachos. He’d thought about Jason hugging him so fiercely that he couldn’t breathe, and Piper cussing him out while she held him, making him promise never to do anything that reckless again.

Now Piper was actually holding him, and Leo couldn’t feel anything. There was a numbness in his chest. He wasn’t sure he had it in him to ever feel happiness again. Hell, even if he did, what was the fucking point? Every time anything even remotely good happened in his life, it got ripped away from him again.

They didn’t talk a whole lot for most of the drive. They cried until it felt like they couldn’t anymore, clinging to each other like desperate children.

Even if they’d wanted to talk about what had happened, Piper’s dad was right there, and despite the Mist usually working overtime for them, having him overhear seemed like a gamble. Or, well, maybe that was what Leo told himself. Maybe he just wasn't sure he was ready to hear it all. He still felt like he couldn’t think. He was overwhelmed to hell and couldn’t stop fidgeting.

Several hours into the trip, his stomach started grumbling. Piper dug through the bag at her feet and offered him one of her PB&J sandwiches, but Leo couldn’t eat. He hadn’t skipped a meal in forever—he’d been homeless and unsure when he’d even get access to the next meal enough times that it had been all but tattooed into his skull that he couldn’t afford to—but he couldn’t even think about eating without feeling sick. He thought about Jason. He thought about the state he’d left Camp Jupiter in and the fact that they hadn’t even been able to give the dead their proper funeral rites.

Had Leo’s help made any difference at all? Had anything he’d done in his life changed things even slightly?

Leo knew the Fates had intended for it to be fire that fell—for him to burn in a bright, hot blaze and turn himself to charcoal. But he’d refused to stay dead like a good little pawn, and now Jason was gone, and it was all his fault.

He wasn’t sure how Piper could even look at him right now, but he was beyond grateful that she was holding onto him as tightly as she did. It was the only reason he didn’t fall to pieces completely. The cog at the heart of Leo’s machine had broken in a way that made it utterly beyond repair, and now it felt like a matter of time before the whole thing came apart. Piper holding him was the only reason his remaining pieces were still functioning. 

It should have been impossible for Leo to fall asleep under these circumstances, but he’d been traveling for hours and fighting before then and he’d cried out his remaining energy, so eventually, the world started to fade around him, reduced to just the sound of Piper’s breaths, until finally, those went, too.

~~~~

It would have been kinder, maybe, if Leo had dreamed up some shitty visions promising violent death and/or the end of the world. That would have been business as usual. 

Instead, he dreamed of his time on the Argo II—of one of those early nights when the different groups were still getting to know each other, having a brief moment to breathe between their ridiculous tasks and saving the world. 

It had seemed reasonable to catch each other up on what had happened on their end. Percy, Hazel and Frank had talked about rescuing Thanatos, and Piper, Jason and Leo had told them what had happened with Hera in turn. 

This would have been a boring intel conversation at best, seeing as Leo had been there for all of their part, but they’d grabbed snacks and sat on cushions on the floor and made it a whole bonding activity. Jason had been wedged between Piper and Leo, and they’d taken turns storytelling. 

And Jason had bragged. So much. But he hadn’t even had the decency to brag about himself like a normal human being. Instead, he’d talked about how capable Piper and Leo had been, somehow managing to make Leo sound like the coolest person he’d ever met. Which was ridiculous, considering he’d met everyone else on their team.

And sure, Leo made it sound like he thought he was amazing all the time, but he was exaggerating, which everyone, himself included, knew. 

Jason didn’t seem to have gotten the memo, though. He had one arm wrapped around Leo the whole evening, and he got all starry-eyed when he talked. 

“Leo took on three Cyclopes by himself. Three!”

“Dude, stop!” Leo had laughed, shaking his head. “I know I’m incredible and you’re blessed to be friends with me and stuff, but you weren’t even conscious for that part.”

“Still happened, though.” Jason had beamed at him. “You’re amazing, dude. I would have died about fifteen times on that mission if it hadn’t been for you. You guys should’ve seen him.”

It would have been easier if Leo had thought Jason was just trying to talk him up to the others to make them more willing to trust him after how badly he’d messed up in New Rome, but Jason wasn’t the type. He’d looked like he honestly believed every single word he was saying.

So, of course, Leo had refused to seriously deal with any of the things that made him feel.

“Sorry, Pipes, but I’m pretty sure your boyfriend is in love with me. It’s the fire powers, I’m afraid. I’m just too hot to resist,” Leo had joked instead, and Piper had untangled herself from Jason’s other side to throw Doritos at Leo, and everything had been right in the universe.

~~~~

Waking up from that, blearily blinking himself awake in the car full of moving boxes and remembering… that was a worse punch in the gut than waking up from most nightmares had been. And Leo should know. He’d had so many of those over the years that he was basically a certified nightmare expert at this point.

Leo wanted to go back in time and spend forever in that one evening, living it over and over and over again until the Fates or a temporal paradox or something eventually killed him. He wanted to hold on to what they’d been back then—the three of them together and happy and whole,back before they’d realized what the prophecy really meant. 

He wanted to stay wrapped in Jason’s arm and hear him laugh at whatever stupid joke Leo came up with while he and Piper threw snacks at each other like ten year olds. He wanted to believe he could actually be the person Jason was bragging about—this invincible hero that could do just about anything and saved people’s lives.

But Leo had never been that hero. Even his sacrifice had been the selfish decision of a coward who wasn’t ready to die just yet. Jason had been their Superman. The guy who could fly and threw lightning and saved people from falling to their deaths. Jason had been the hero. And ultimately, that had been what killed him.

Leo wasn’t exactly sure what he planned to do once they got to Oklahoma. He should have been heading back to the Waystation, to give Calypso the normal life he’d promised. But he wasn’t thinking about Calypso, or the Waystation, and the thought of a normal life had gone out of the window the second he’d seen the coffin. Besides, the Waystation would mean people asking questions, wanting to know about his mission and asking him to talk about his feelings, and he didn’t want that.

The only thing Leo really wanted to do right now was not think. 

By the time they got to the house, it was so late that cross-country dragon flight seemed inadvisable for visibility reasons alone, so Leo agreed to stay the night. Festus nuzzled him for a bit, got a fuel snack from the canister Leo had brought and then folded down into his million pound suitcase form for the night.

It took a little under two hours to carry all the boxes inside, which was an annoying amount of time to be carrying boxes but seemed like an absurdly short amount to move the contents of an entire life.

They spent some time in search of the necessities that needed to be unpacked, but the house was still furnished and also had running water and electricity as of a few days ago, so it wasn’t that bad.

While Piper went in search of some ancient camping gear so Leo wouldn’t have to sleep on the floor—this seemed silly to him, the floor was far from the worst place he’d ever slept—Leo asked Piper’s dad if he could help with dinner. 

Tristan looked relieved at his offer, actually. He’d been staring at the assorted vegetables with a slightly lost expression, trying to hack at one of the zucchinis with a butter knife. It seemed like he was trying to remember how cooking worked and had just discovered he had absolutely no idea. 

Considering how long he’d been an insanely rich guy with a personal cook, Leo guessed that actually might have been a pretty accurate read on the situation. 

“You might want to try a sharper knife,” Leo suggested, which made Piper’s dad look absolutely mortified. “Try not to chop off any of your fingers, though. I think Piper’s been traumatized enough for one week.”

The words were out of his mouth before Leo could think to stop them. Tristan didn’t laugh, but at least it didn’t seem like he’d be tossing Leo out of the house over this. Maybe he realized people sometimes said stupid shit when they were grieving. Maybe Piper had just warned him in advance that Leo was like this sometimes.

Tristan just went to find a different knife, which would have maybe been concerning if he hadn’t gone back to hacking at the vegetables a moment later.

“Well, at least this one is actually cutting through the zucchinis. That’s already an improvement.”

“Yeah, I’m basically a cooking expert,” Leo said with a grin, only half-joking. He went to peel and chop up the carrots, and was done with those and about half the mushrooms by the time the poor zucchini had been hacked to bits.

“You and Piper went to school together, right?” Tristan asked after a while of them quietly chopping vegetables for the casserole, trying to make sense of things with information he didn’t have and that, judging from past evidence, probably would have made his skull crack. “You and her and Jason.”

“Yeah. We went to Wilderness school together.” Leo winced, trying not to think too hard of Jason while also trying to remember the lies they’d already told Piper’s dad. At this rate, he was pretty worried his own skull would crack, too. “Then all three of us switched to a different school. Then I was gone for a while.”

Tristan nodded like this made perfect sense, though he mostly seemed lost in thought. That was a little rude, in Leo’s opinion. If he went through all that effort to remember their elaborate setup of lies, the least Piper’s dad could do was appreciate it!

“I’m glad you’re here now, with everything that’s happened. Piper was really upset when you left,” Tristan said, still with that faraway look in his eyes. “The last few months were hard for her. Between the move and the breakup, she really could have used a friend.”

Leo promptly lost all rights to make fun of Piper’s dad and his vegetable chopping skills because at the word ‘breakup’, the knife slipped and he nearly sliced off two of his fingers.

“Fuck! Ow!” he said eloquently, trying to avoid bleeding all over the cutting board in his attempt to get to the sink. “Jason and Piper broke up?”

The question sounded absurd even to his own ears. Why would Jason and Piper break up? They’d been happy together.

Surely, Piper’s dad had to be talking about something else.

To Leo’s shock, Tristan nodded.

“A while ago, yes,” he said, but he didn’t go into details—possibly because Leo was bleeding all over the sink. “We should bandage that. Do you think you need stitches?”

“No, the cuts aren’t that deep,” Leo decided, turning on the faucet and holding his bleeding hand under the stream of cold water. Maybe he should have been more concerned about the injury, but his mind was still whirring at the thought of his best friends breaking up. Unfortunately, the cold water stung like hell. He hissed with pain. “Sorry for making your kitchen look like a crime scene right after moving in. Usually, I at least have the decency to wait a day or two.”

Because the house was a small, cozy place and Leo had not had the decency to curse quietly, Piper appeared in the doorway a moment later, an alarmed expression on her face.

“What happened?”

“I’ve been bested by a stupid potato,” Leo cursed, holding up his bleeding hand and wiggling his fingers for emphasis. He figured out immediately that this was a mistake. “Ow.”

“Stop that, dumbass!” Piper cursed, moving to stand beside him. “Sink was the right call, but you need to use soap or the cuts could get infected. Dad, any chance we have gauze lying around somewhere?”

Tristan didn’t seem to question why his daughter had immediately jumped into emergency medical treatment mode. He just abandoned the cutting board and headed for the front door.

“Not exactly sure what box our regular medical supplies are in, but I’ll get the first aid kit from the car. I’ll be right back.”

“Do we have to do the soap?” Leo whined, because fuck, that stung, but Piper nodded with a scary expression on her face, so he complied. “How do you even know this stuff? Are we sure you’re not secretly an Apollo kid?”

“I know this stuff because I’m friends with a bunch of morons who have zero sense of self-preservation,” Piper cursed, gritting her teeth. “You shouldn’t be around knives when you’re this distracted.”

“I can usually cook just fine when I’m distracted. Your dad was the one who told me you and Jason broke up in the middle of this stupid potato,” Leo said defensively. “Is that the Mist messing with him?”

That was the only explanation his mind had supplied so far that made any sense to him.

Piper shook her head. “We really did break up. That was a few months ago.”

Leo felt his jaw hit the floor. 

“What the hell happened? You were together for ages. I thought- you always seemed so happy.”

“I know, but-” Piper broke off abruptly when her dad came back inside with the first aid kit. Demigod stuff, then?

Leo’s mind was racing. The breakup was a completely stupid thing to focus on, considering everything that had happened in the last few days. He knew that.

But it was easier to try and make sense of this than it was to try and make sense of the fact that Jason was gone and he’d never get to see him again.

“Is it alright if we do this somewhere else?” Piper asked her dad, taking the first aid kit from him.

“Of course. It might be easier to patch him up when you’re both sitting down, anyway.” He turned towards Leo. “Thank you for your help, but I think I can take it from here.”

Leo sent a silent prayer to whichever deity was responsible for protecting vegetables—Demeter, probably?—and gave what he hoped was an encouraging thumbs up with his uninjured hand before he followed Piper into the hallway to presumably be reprimanded some more.

~~~~ They ended up sitting on an old bed that looked like it had lived a long, miserable life and was excited for retirement, but the wooden frame thankfully didn’t break down under the weight of the new mattress or the additional weight of them sitting on said mattress. Piper explained that this had been her dad’s room when he’d lived here as a child, and that it would probably become her room now. Then she went very quiet and focused on bandaging his hand, clearly avoiding looking at him.

“It wasn’t because of me, was it?” Leo asked. The thought made him feel ill. “Please tell me it wasn’t something like, I don’t know, you two being unable to stand being around each other after what happened to me. I think I’d actually have to blow myself up again if it was.”

He tried to make it sound like a joke, but it didn’t feel like one at all. The thought that he'd managed to ruin his best friends’ relationship on top of everything else made it hard to breathe.

When Piper shook her head, it felt like a whole boulder was lifted off his shoulders.

“I actually think we would have broken up sooner if you hadn’t gone missing. We leaned on each other a lot after you disappeared. It wasn’t until we realized we wouldn��t find you and things started to settle down a little that I had time to think. And when I did…” Her voice went very quiet, and she still didn’t look up at him. “I realized I wasn’t happy in the relationship. I don’t think I ever was.”

“How did I not know that?” Leo wondered quietly. “I just… you two seemed happy to me. What kind of garbage best friend am I?”

Piper shook her head. “It isn’t your fault. I was telling myself I was happy for a long time. It’s almost- sometimes I wonder if I was charmspeaking myself. That maybe I kept saying I was in love with Jason until I convinced myself I actually was. And with Hera and my mom setting it up… I love-” her voice caught in her throat, and Leo felt like maybe he needed to throw up, “-loved Jason, but not like that.”

“Pipes, I’m really sorry.” Leo squeezed her shoulder. “That sounds like it was super hard for both of you.” Leo felt awful about the fact that he hadn’t even been around to comfort either of them, but it wasn’t like he could fix it now. It was just another item on Leo’s unending list of epic screwups he’d never be able to make up for.

“Jason was… well, he took it exactly like I expected him to. He was surprised, but he didn’t get angry or anything. He mostly seemed okay. Part of me wonders if maybe…” But whatever Piper had been thinking about, she seemed to decide it wasn’t important. “It was hard to get a proper read on him, and as nice as he was about it, things were still super awkward after. I'm terrified he died thinking I didn’t care about him.”

And then she was tearing up again, and Leo thought he would shatter if she cried. 

“He knew you cared,” he said as earnestly as he could manage, pulling Piper to his chest again. “You love way too annoyingly for him not to have known. Hell, even I know you love me, and we both know I’m a fucking nightmare when it comes to this stuff.”

“I missed you so much,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around his back like it was the easiest thing in the world.

“Oh, I’m about to make you regret saying that,” Leo said, forcing himself to smile. “I’ll bring it up each and every time you say you find something I do annoying.”

“You’re annoying as hell, but you’re still my best friend.” He could feel her tears dripping onto his shoulder, and he knew that would make him start up again too. “I don’t know how I’d do this without you.”

And well, passing away from dehydration after crying too much would be a really lame way to die the second time, but everything was just too much right now, so if that was how he went, Leo wasn’t sure anyone could blame him.

~~~~

For the next couple of weeks, Leo stayed.

Helping Piper and her dad unpack was the perfect way to keep himself occupied and not have to think. Usually, a mundane task like this probably would have driven Leo nuts. But right now, it was a bit of a godsend—if not literally, at least figuratively. Being productive was always so much easier when it was done in order to avoid something you wanted to do even less. There was a reason his spaces in the foster homes had only ever been tidy when he had exams coming up.

He helped cook, too, and Piper’s dad became increasingly less garbage at it the longer this went on—like muscle memory was finally kicking in after years of disuse.

It was mostly good—listening to Piper reminisce about trips she’d taken with her dad and where she’d gotten the weird variety of items she kept in her room. When they weren’t unpacking, Leo and Piper played video games or watched movies or explored the area. Twice, during the night, they took Festus on a little flight to a nearby fast food place. Finding a parking spot was a bit of a nightmare, unfortunately. Leo would submit a complaint about their inability to accommodate celestial bronze dragons the first chance he got.

The first time they tried hiking—Leo didn’t even like hiking, he’d spent enough time outside for several lifetimes, why did he do this to himself—they got hopelessly lost in the woods, and of course, due to demigod bullshit, neither of them had brought a phone, so Google Maps wasn’t an option. It was probably for the better. The last thing that situation needed on top of them being lost was a monster attack. 

They were already jokingly planning out their new life in the woods when, thankfully, a girl their age came to their rescue.

“A human being! Thank the gods. The squirrels weren’t talking to us,” Leo greeted her, which had Piper shout “Please ignore Leo!” loudly from the branches of the tree she’d been climbing.

The girl lifted her head, spotted Piper and promptly burst out laughing.

“What in the world are you doing up there?” 

“Trying to get a better vantage point,” Piper sighed, making her way back down the tree. “We’re hopelessly lost.”

“Well, nice to meet you, hopelessly lost. I’m Shel,” the girl said, still grinning. Leo decided immediately that he liked her.

Piper had almost made it back down when she somehow missed a branch and fell the rest of the way. In comedic movie fashion, Shel moved before Leo had the chance to and caught her mid-tumble. “That was a bit of a dramatic way to get my attention, but you’re cute, so I’ll allow it.”

“Oh yeah, Piper’s got a bit of a thing with falling for people that way,” Leo commented, and Piper gave him her most murderous look while she got back on her feet.

“You guys need help getting back?”

“Please, yes,” Piper said immediately. “It turns out we’re both garbage with maps.”

“Maybe you just need a tour guide next time,” Shel suggested, winking at Piper, whose face turned scarlet. Leo wasn’t even mad about being the third wheel for once. He’d give her so much shit about this later.

And he did. And then Piper properly came out to him—no label or anything, mostly as extremely confused but sure she liked girls, which also made a few additional pieces click into place regarding her breakup with Jason. She ended her anxiety-riddled explanation by thanking Leo for being so normal and annoying about all this. 

Which was how Leo realized he’d apparently never told Piper he was bi.

Or maybe he had, and it had gotten lost along with their other memories of Wilderness. Stupid memory-stealing babysitters.

Well, at least they got to hug about it now. 

~~~~

It was strange how normal some days felt when nothing would ever truly be normal again. When in every moment Leo and Piper spent together, the gaping hole that had been ripped into their trio was so blatantly obvious.

The benefit and problem of this friendship was that Leo and Piper were both experts at not talking about things they were struggling with. 

This wasn’t exactly news. From what little Leo did remember of Wilderness School, they’d spent months not talking about his mom, or about the fact that Piper’s dad kept canceling their weekend plans. They’d both known there were things left unsaid, but as long as they’d been able to cheer each other up, that hadn’t really mattered. It made sense, honestly. Put two people who hadn’t had a shoulder to cry on for ages in a room together and see what happens!

Right now, this meant they were expertly ignoring the box of belongings Piper had picked up from Jason’s school. It had been pushed so far under the bed during that first night that it was no longer visible, and neither of them made any effort to move it out of its new home since. They ignored the topic of Jason, period, until it inevitably hit them in the face again. 

It was mostly dumb shit that set them off. Piper automatically reaching for vanilla ice cream at the grocery store because it was Jason’s favorite—seriously, who in their right mind even liked vanilla ice cream?

Sometimes, Leo would make a joke and burst into tears instead of laughing because he knew it would have cracked Jason up. They found old photos unpacking. One time, Piper’s dad suggested they make tacos and they started simultaneously bawling their eyes out.

Leo had spent a long time exactly like this—pretending everything was normal and okay when it wasn’t either of those things until he inevitably broke down. Then he’d started to actually feel sort of okay whenever he was with Jason and Piper. Now, he was sure he would spend the rest of his life pretending.

His appetite was too used to being stuck in survival mode for him to bow to nausea for long, so he went back to eating properly after a few days. He still cried himself to sleep most nights. He kept dreaming about Jason. The memories wrapped themselves around him like a safety blanket that he knew would get ripped away again in the morning. He always woke up feeling empty. Sometimes, he wished he could just go to sleep and never wake up again.

But other than that, it was mostly good.

Then demigod communications went back up, and everything went to hell.

———

Chapter notes:

Fun fact! I originally planned for this chapter (as well as the next few chapters) to just be backstory in my head and for me to maybe do a flashback or two. Unfortunately for me, Piper McLean waltzed into the room and refused to leave.

I do actually think the fic works better this way, but it will take a second to get to the plot! Hopefully you’ll enjoy the whole journey :)

I may not be able to have Leo and Piper go to Jason’s funeral without seriously messing with the plot of Tyrant’s Tomb, but I could at least pick the most evil reason possible for them not to go!

Side note: I sort of forgot that Hedge and Mellie were supposed to be here according to TBM, but by the time I remembered I already had this chapter written out and, as someone who cannot be bothered to figure out how to write them, I decided to just leave it. ToA is vaguely canon to this universe, but only for the most part. Some details are inaccurate, and I think that’s okay.

Anyway, thank you so much for reading! Comments and reblogs super, super appreciated as always!!

List of people that at some point asked to be tagged when I post this: @poppitron360 @ginnyluna @keefessketchbook (feel free to comment if you want to get taken off or be put on the tag list for future chapters!)

[livesworthlivingau]

Lives Worth Living Chapter 26-28

ISAT/Two Hats Spoilers below! CW: Outbursts, Mentions of stabbing/killing, unhealthy obsessing.

"So how you holding up Sif?" (You suddenly snap back to reality and look over to Isa, now left alone as the other three had left for the market.)

"What do you mean?" (You ask, confused by the sudden question.)

"You looked a little zoned out there, and getting to see Vale again, and Nille, it's just a lot right now, even if it's good stuff. So... Just wanted to check in with you!" (He gives his trademark bright smile, and you can't help but smile back.)

"It is a lot... but it's good, the family's back together again, even L-Vale now... I just... I really hope it works out this time."

"This time?" (CRAB!!)

"Y-You know! Like, having them around... I want them to fit in is all!" (A more serious look appears on his face. There's no way he bought that...)

"Sif... You know you can tell me anything, right?"

"I do! I know! I... I'm sorry, but it involves them a lot too, and I can't talk about it without them." (Your voice falters a bit, the topic making you uncomfortable as you start to scratch absentmindedly at your arms. His large, gentle hand meet yours after a moment, trying to calm you down.)

"Hey, it's okay, I understand. I just worry, y'know? But if you're sure it's okay for now then I can wait!" (He smiles at you again. You place your head on his shoulder, closing your eye with a relieved sigh.)

"I love you Isa."

"I love you too Sif."

----------------------------------------------------

"Excuse me for a moment, I need to use the restroom~." (Vale explains before leaving the table and conversation. They seemed especially uneasy since Nille left to help Bonbon in the kitchen a few minutes ago, probably still struggling being around everyone else...)

"Siffrin, is there, uhm… Is Vale uncomfortable around us?" (Mira asks, it seems you weren't the only one to notice.)

"They're… just shy, you know? Not used to new people! That's all!" (You try to smile convincingly.)

"Right…" (Crab.)

"They just need some time to warm up is all!" (Isa to the rescue, as always. Thank the stars.)

"They were stuck in the loops too afterall! Sif was the only one they really interacted with, right?"

"No wonder they're so on edge." (Odile chimes in with a little tease, not even looking up from her book.)

"H-Hey!?" (Mira and Isa can't help but snort and snicker at your expense. It WAS a pretty good joke you guess…)

"Though we should discuss what our next course of action is, now that Nille has found us. I assume we'll still head to Bambouche for their sakes, then continue our little reunion tour? I imagine you'd like to return to Jouvente at some point Isabeau?" (Odile begins to plan aloud to get us all on the same page.)

"Eventually, sure, I'm in no rush! But what about you, M'dame? Don't you want to go back to Ka Bue too?" (Odile pauses for a moment, glancing over at you. You must have been making some kind of face considering how she raises a brow at you.)

"I believe our little time traveler here already knows the answer to that question." (You look away nervously.)

"It's uhh... complicated? I don't think Odile cares about returning anytime soon." (You try to keep it vague, to which she nods. Her eyes casually return to her book before she speaks up again.)

"Very astute of you, Siffrin. If I do happen to return, it will likely be out of obligation more than anything else. I believe we have more pressing matters to attend to, like the fact you're still looping."

"I wouldn't exactly call that pressing..."

"Th-This isn't something you should just put off Siffrin! What if it just keeps getting out on the back burner and suddenly you're right back where you started again?!" (Mira chimes in in a panic.)

"I'm not saying we just ignore it forever! Just... we have some time at least, and Odile stopped me from looping once already! If anyone's gonna know what to do, it'll be her, right?"

"I stopped it in the moment, preventing you from looping ever again is a whole ordeal in and of itself. It will take a lot of research on a subject that no one knows anything about, and another that is purely theoretical. I may be good at what I do but I'm not a miracle worker."

"You might not think so." (You chuckle a bit. No matter how many times it happens, she still managed to surprise you over the years with new breakthroughs and theories on craft, sadnesses, and otherwise. She smirks a bit as her eyes remain on her book.)

"While your confidence in my is flattering, I'd still like to tackle this subject sooner rather than later."

"Alright, we'll get to Bambouche and go from there, okay? For now I'm just glad we're all together again..." (Your expression falls to a bittersweet one. You feel Isa's hand on your shoulder, giving a light squeeze and smiling brightly at you. You lay your head against his side and close your eye, savoring the embrace.)

"Dinner'll be ready in a few!... Hey, where'd Vale go?" (Nille asks, stepping back in from the kitchen.)

"Oh! They went to the restroom! B-But it's been a while, hasn't it? should someone check on them?"

"I better do it, y'all sit tight!" (Nille quickly takes the offer to ensure no one else would, heading off to find them.)

----------------------------------------------------

"Before I explain this, it's not their fault, please don't blame them, they were going through a lot and I didn't notice how it was affecting them and I told their secret an-" (You start to explain at a million miles a minute, too frantic to be processed properly even as Nille lightly grabs your shoulders to snap you out of it.)

"Hey, easy, just start at the beginning okay?" (She tries to comfort you, to which you nod and take a deep breath.)

"... When I first looped back all those years, I was... frozen? I was panicking, stuck in my head, I thought it must be a dream or something, there's no way this was really happening, right?... And then I heard their voice... and all of that just went away." (You glance over at Vale. They look... confused? Shocked maybe? You guess you never got the chance to tell them this part.)

"I ran to find them right after, as fast as I could, and... I was just so happy to see them, I didn't think about how they were feeling... forced to be back, I'd been through so much and they were just left behind... and then I dragged them along back here to force them into a family they didn't want any part in."

"Stardust... That's..."

"It's true Vale, and I'm sorry. I really don't blame you for what happened." (Vale just looks away, clearly not agreeing, but they can tell they won't change your mind. Nille still looks very confused, waiting for the story to continue.)

"So things seemed fine for a little while, but then Odile noticed I was doing a little too well, and I told her about everything... including their secret, which they made me promise not to tell." (You really were hamming up how awful you had been, even if you didn't realize it. It was your fault after all, Vale can't be punished for that.)

"Vale found out what I did, they were already on the verge of snapping and that pushed them over the edge, so... they had to go back, before I dragged them to the party... They had to make us all loop back..." (Nille takes a second to process all of this, before her eyes widen, realizing what you were implying.)

"Frin, tell me what happened, please." (She asks, her eyes looking almost desperate, as if asking you to assure her it's not what she thinks.)

"Vale... They..."

"I STABBED HIM! I SHOVED HIS OWN DAGGER INTO HIS HEART AND FORCED HIM BACK, OKAY?! I'M A MONSTER AND A MURDERER!!!" (You jump back as they suddenly start screaming out. You look back to the door, thankful no one else was there at the moment. Nille pulls herself away from their outburst. Looking scared, confused, conflicted.)

"N-No! You're not Vale, you knew I'd be fine! You knew I'd loop!"

"And what if you didn't?!?! What if it all ended right there?!? How could I do such a thing?! How could I take that risk?! How could I hurt you like that?!" (Their eyes were wide and crazed, they gripped their hair painfully tight. They looked ready to snap again. Before you could try to comfort them, Nille was already holding their face to try and snap their out of it.)

"Hey hey hey! Vale, Calm down please." (They stopped suddenly, tears flowing from their eyes and staring back at Nille, surprised they weren't being treated like the monster they thought they were.)

"You made a mistake... a big one, sure, but a mistake none the less. Frin's okay now, right?"

"B-But... I killed them... H-how could anyone forgive me for that?..."

"Well, Frin did, and that's the most important person to do so I'd say... It's a lot to take in alright, still not really sure how I feel about it right now... but I'm not just gonna hate you for it, especially after everything." (Vale stares up at her, they look confused, their eyes darting about as they try to piece something together.)

"I doubt you want to go back in there tonight. Maybe you should stay at the Inn for tonight, cool off a little..."

"Y-Yes... that sounds like it's for the best..." (Before Vale can get too far, Nille lightly grabs their arm to keep them from going too far.)

"This doesn't give you permission to run away though! Remember... you made a promise." (She smiles softly then lets go.)

"... Right... I promise." (Vale can't hold eye contact with either of you for more than a second, slowly starting to walk off again.)

"We'll see you tomorrow, Vale?..." (You plead. They nod back at you before fully turning away. The both of you watch as they slowly vanish from view towards the town center.)

"... Hey, Frin? Are you sure you're okay?" (Nille starts to speak again, now that Vale was safely out of earshot.)

"... It's not that bad, I promise."

"But they killed you Frin... I know they've got issues but... I didn't think they'd be capable of doing that." (Nille holds her arms, gripping them a bit too tightly.)

"They're not! They knew I'd be okay! I'm still looping, it's fine! They would never have done it if they knew it wouldn't happen, like when-" (You cut yourself off, quickly slapping your hand over your mouth.)

"... When what?"

"... After the loops 'ended' the first time, I went to find them... That's when they admitted who they were, and they kinda... snapped. They attacked me, they were ranting and raving, they spent all that time just watching me do it and have an easier time than they ever did, everything they went through and my loops were practically a walk in the park in comparison... But when they had me beaten they couldn't do it! They wouldn't! They're not capable of that I swear!!!" (You do your best to convince her... and possibly yourself in the process. You still blame yourself for what happened, you just don't want Vale to suffer for it.)

"Frin... I'm not saying we should just send them on their merry way or anything but... they still attacked you, they still stabbed you... I don't know if you should just act like that's fine and forget it ever happened..."

"Nille... I've had a very long time to think about this. I've missed them for decades, and now they're finally back... I'm not going to do anything to mess that up, so please don't do so either." (You don't realize it until it's already happened, your face turning to a colder, darker expression. It felt vaguely familiar, likely similar to how you looked in those later loops... Nille looks a bit unnerved by it.)

"Siffrin, that's not healthy! Don't you think you're being a bit obsessive about thi-"

"I don't care!" (Nille jolts in shock, stepping back at your outburst. You stop before you lose it too much, taking a deep breath to compose yourself.)

"I just want them back... I just want them to be happy... I had 30 years of a wonderful life with all of you while they got nothing... Isn't that unfair? Isn't that a tragedy? They go through all the pain and suffering and I just come in and replace them?!"

"Frin! That's no-"

"NO! They're the only reason I'm here! They're the only reason I got to be happy for all this time! So don't you dare get in the way of me making it up to them!" (You snap. Nille stares down at you in a mix of shock and nerves. She looks over you a bit, as if trying to work out the best way to deal with this situation. You sigh and take a step back, making yourself smaller as you duck into your cloak a little.)

"I'm sorry... but please, don't... don't ruin this for me... I need this. I need them... Good night Nille." (You excuse yourself before you say anything else you may regret. You head back inside, ignoring anything she or anyone else may be saying to you as you pass. You reach your room and settle in for bed, not wanting to deal with this day any longer.)

[sashaisready]

Chapter Four - You’re both idiots

Bucky Barnes Mob AU x Femme Reader

You're hard at work in Pepper's Bakery when notorious mob boss James 'Bucky' Barnes darkens your doorway one typical afternoon, and life is never the same again.

18+ - see Masterlist for full list of warnings

Chapter 5

Series Masterlist

And so begins the routine. Bucky comes in once or twice a week, clearing out half your stock each time. Sometimes he’s alone, sometimes with his various men. Thor and Steve come by a lot - Thor is always overly sweet to Wanda and treats her with renewed respect under your watchful eye.

You also meet Sam, who seems to hold a similar rank in the organisation as Steve. Sam is one of the nicer ones, he’s cheerful and personable - always makes an effort at small talk. Most of the others just glare at you over the counter.

You’re fascinated by the dynamics, often able to gauge a man’s status in the group based on how Bucky interacts with them. Some, like Steve, he listens to carefully and seems to take on board whatever they suggest. Others he just looks at with utter disdain, annoyed he even has to speak to them.

Despite your fears about becoming a ‘mob’ establishment, they’re never anything but respectful and polite to you, Wanda and the other customers. You’re certain Bucky makes sure of that. Pepper is delighted that the profits have soared since Bucky’s frequent visits so you can’t imagine she’d have an issue with the clientele either.

Each time he comes in he makes a beeline for you and you feel butterflies in your stomach as your heart races. He'll smirk at you as he approaches. Never quite a proper smile, but a smirk you'll take for now. The way he looks at you almost floors you every time, the intensity of those eyes is suffocating. Sometimes it feels as if he can see into your soul, see each of your silly little thoughts, raking over them and seeking out your essence. 

If you’re not there then he’ll ask Wanda where you are, but strangely he always seems to know when you’re on shift, even if they’re changed at the last minute. He starts coming in on certain days of the week and soon it becomes your highlight of those days, the exciting anticipation of knowing he’ll be in soon. You'll glance up expectantly every time the bell goes knowing eventually it'll be him standing in your eyeline. 

The two of you engage in a routine now. He teases you, you tease him. Sometimes he makes fun of your mucky overalls and you’ll rag on him about his tips. You’re careful not to be too cheeky in front of his men, understanding where his boundaries lie. Still, sometimes you’ll push them for a little excitement and he’ll give you a warning look if you’re being a bit overly familiar, but you can tell from his trademark smirk that he’s not really fazed.

The furthest you’d gone was when he came in by himself one morning. The shop was empty bar Wanda working out back so you thought you’d really test the waters. You were on his side of the counter tidying up stock when he started playing with you about a smear of frosting you’d somehow got on your face. You’d allowed him to continue for a little while before wordlessly picking up a cupcake, sticking two fingers into the frosting and rubbing them across his cheek in retaliation.

He froze and you froze. For a terrible moment you thought you’d finally pushed him too far until he grabbed the mauled cake and tried to push it back into your face as you squealed and attempted to throw yourself backwards to get away. He was fast though, somehow ending up pinning you against the counter with his sturdy thigh holding you in place. Your breaths were short and shallow as you gripped his wrists and tried to fight him off, hypnotised by his gaze as he leaned his face closer to yours and-

Wanda came running out from the back, terrified you were hurt based on all the noises you were making. Bucky quickly released you and you shot back behind the counter, smoothing your hair and clearing your throat as you rung him up. He just grabbed a napkin and casually wiped his cheek like it was all a typical transaction. Your heart was beating hard in your chest as you sent him on his way, you could feel the heat radiating between your thighs as you calmed down.

Wanda just stared at you with her arms crossed, her face spoke for her.

Sometimes, when it's just him, you talk. No games, just conversation as you pack up his cakes. It started with idle chatter and then it somehow developed into everything from your childhoods to politics. Sometimes he stays long after you've rung him up, chatting away as he clutches his boxes, perpetually hovering by the door as if he's about to leave. You find it easy to talk to him, as if you’ve known him your whole life. It’s always organic, simple. You forget who he is and then Steve will walk in and whisper something to him and it's like a rude reminder. 

You feel yourself developing feelings for him, despite the warning voice in the back of your head. You find yourself getting caught up and daydreaming at work. You think of his perfect face and his broad shoulders, the way a strand of hair will fall forward and he'll absentmindedly scrape it back. Imagining what it would be like to kiss him…to wake up with him....to feel his fingers dance across your hips...

Wanda is baffled by this burgeoning friendship or flirtation or however you choose to categorise it. She’ll watch from afar as you stare at him from across the counter and play your little games.

“So when are you two going to get it out of your system?” She asks late one afternoon as you’re both closing up for the day.

“Huh?” You respond, unsure what she means.

“You and Bucky” she scoffs. “You’re practically fucking on the store floor every time he comes in so you might as well get it over with”.

You turn to face her, shocked by her directness. Wanda always speaks her mind but she’s not normally so…plain speaking about it.

“Whoaaaaa” you exclaim. “I mean yeah. Obviously he’s gorgeous. And obviously I enjoy…whatever it is exactly that we do. But it’s just flirting. It’s just a thing he does when he comes in here. Doesn’t really mean anything” you shrug.

Wanda just stares back at you, unimpressed. “Uh huh. Yeah. And how many hundreds of dollars has he given you, exactly?”

You jeer, shrugging your shoulders and shaking your head dismissively.

“Not…that much. Besides, he’s rich. It’s like giving me a dollar each time when you look at it in relation to his net worth…”

Wanda just rolls her eyes. “Right. Yeah. Sure. I’m sure he does the same with all servers at any store he goes in…”.

You chew your lip. “I mean…maybe? None of my business what he gets up to in his free time…”

“Why don’t you just ask him out?” Wanda asks.

You glare back at her like that was the stupidest suggestion you’d ever heard.

Wanda takes one look at your face and instantly backs down, holding her hands up in surrender. “Alright…sorry”.

“I don’t even know if I want to go out with him” you admit. “I like him a lot. And wow, he’s a babe. But…his whole world you know? The mob? That life isn’t for me. I’m just a baker” you tell her bashfully.

"First of all, you're not just anything - so get that through your skull..."

You smirk appreciatively at her.

“Second of all...I mean, I get it. I never would’ve seen this particular development coming for you” she laughs, and you laugh too. It is all quite ridiculous, after all.

“But it’s clear to anyone who’s been in the bakery at the same time that there’s something there” Wanda continues.

“I’m not saying you need to marry the guy and be the glamorous mob wife at his court dates wearing a show stopping outfit…but a date might be just what you need. Even if it’s to prove that this is just a fun flirtation and you don’t have anything else in common”.

You nod thoughtfully. “I mean you’re right, I would look great in court…”

Wanda throws a cleaning rag at you and you both giggle for a minute.

“But I can’t let him win, Wanda”.

“What….?”

“I can’t let him win. If I ask him out then he’s won. But if he asks me out then I win. You see? I’m doing well so far, I can’t throw the race” you explain.

Wanda just stares at you like you have two heads.

“You’re both idiots. You know that?” She deadpans.

You nod. “Oh of course. But I still want to win”.

*

As you’re walking home that evening you’re lost in thought, pondering your next move with Bucky. Maybe Wanda was right. Maybe you should just bite the bullet and go for it. What have you got to lose? Yes, he was scary - but not to you. Never to you. In fact you’d seen softness within him. A genuine, sweet and funny guy under the frightening surface. Dating that guy very much appealed to you. A mobster not so much, but you liked the other guy. Besides, it could be an adventure, right? A fun story for the next time you met up with your friends at least. Shit, you really should call them.

You snapped out of your thoughts when you saw a dark SUV parked up across the street, and your stomach dropped momentarily. Maybe it was your imagination but you could’ve sworn you saw that same one this morning hovering near your apartment block.

Was that…Bucky‘s car?

No. Surely not.

You racked your brains trying to remember any distinguishing features of his car when you’d helped him with the boxes that time…but nothing came to you. You couldn’t even remember a single digit of the license plate.

You looked over at the car again and it suddenly took off, disappearing down a different street. The windows were dark so you couldn’t make out the driver or any passengers.

You were being silly.

Still. You added the last three digits of the plate into your phone notes. No harm in that, right?

This was New York City. There were SUVs everywhere. In fact you probably had seen that one before. You worked in this neighbourhood, the driver probably did too. They were probably travelling to and from work just like you were.

You knew this was the logical explanation.

Still…a small part of you suddenly felt a sense of dread deep within your gut.

[50calmadeuce]

Ch. 36: Another Deployment

Warning: Mention of miscarriage. Some chapters have sex.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Top Gun: Maverick world, trademarked by Paramount Pictures Corporation. I do not claim ownership of the characters and the world that I am borrowing.

The story and situation I am creating are a work of my imagination and I do not ascribe them to official story canon. This work is for entertainment only and is not a part of the storyline.

I am not profiting financially from the creation and publication of this story, but I do hope it gives you happy thoughts.

These stories are my own, so please do not take them and use them for yourself without my permission. If you see them somewhere else, please let me know. :)

Jake held your left hand as the two of you slowly walked towards his family from the rental car. He carried his travel bag in his right hand.

"I'll be back," he said reassuringly.

You tucked a piece of hair behind your left ear as the wind blew. "I know, Jake. I've never had any doubt in that."

Jake squeezed your hand gently, a warm smile on his face. "That means everything to me, Y/N."

His family spotted you both and came over, their faces a mix of joy and a touch of sadness. Cindy was the first to reach you, wrapping you in a warm hug. "We'll take good care of you while he's gone," she whispered, her voice full of reassurance.

Jake's sisters followed suit, each giving you a hug and words of encouragement. "You just call us if you need anything, okay?" one of them said, her eyes full of determination.

Jake looked at his family, grateful for their support, and then a playful grin spread across his face. "I'm glad my wife will still be taken care of when I leave, but remember, I'm the one who's actually leaving," he said teasingly.

Jake's family laughed, and Cindy playfully swatted his arm. "Oh, we know, Jake. But you'll be in good hands too. We've got a care package ready for you."

Jake chuckled. "I appreciate that, Mom."

You stood back, watching the interaction with a smile. Jake's family had always been welcoming and supportive, and it was comforting to know they were there for you.

Jake's dad stepped forward, clapping Jake on the shoulder. "You stay safe out there, son. We’ll be here holding down the fort."

Jake nodded, his expression turning serious. "I will, Dad. Thanks for everything."

Max also stepped up to Jake and put out his hand. "She'll be in great hands."

Jake reached for his hand and then pulled Max in for a brotherly like hug. "I know."

As the time for departure grew closer, the family stepped away for you and Jake to get your last few minutes and Jake turned to you, pulling you into a tight embrace, your foreheads touching. "I love you, Y/N. I'll call as soon as I can."

You tried not to cry, but the pregnancy hormones got to you first as a single tear started to slowly form and slide down a cheek.

Jake grinned playfully. "Why Y/N Seresin, are you crying?" he asked with a teasing lilt in his voice. "My strong and independent wife is crying," he responded as he gently reached up with his thumb and wiped the tear away.

You half cried and half laughed. "Not funny, Jake Seresin."

"It is just a little bit," he said, gently pulling your face closer. As the two of you kissed, the tears really started to flow.

When you parted, Jake got down on one knee and placed his hands on your belly. "You take really good care of momma while I'm gone. You're a Seresin. We all stick together." He gently kissed your stomach and then slowly rose back up. "I love you, Y/N Seresin. Don't you forget that."

You smiled. "Never and the feeling is mutual."

He started towards the building, and just before reaching the door, he looked back for one final glance at you. Once again, he sent you a kiss through the air. Playing along, you mimed catching it and pressed it to your lips, then sent one back to him. He mimicked catching it, placing it tenderly on his lips. With a heavy heart, you watched him turn away and disappear into the building, the door sealing shut behind him.

The tears started to flow heavily now and you were really hating these hormones.

"Oh, Y/N. Come here, sweetie," Cindy said as she walked up to you. You turned towards her, burying your face into her shoulder and letting it all out.

An hour later, you and Max walked through the doors of Jake's apartment.

"Wow. I give you credit. I couldn't do that," Max said. "Especially after four years of nothing."

"Trust me, Max. It's not easy, but Jake and I have had to rebuild a solid relationship in a really short time."

He nodded. "Yeah. I saw that. My question is, how?"

Your phone dinged, and you looked at it. It was a text from Phoenix asking about Max, and you giggled as you glanced at him. "Maybe someday you'll find out for yourself what it's like to date an independent yet strong woman. I think Phoenix really has the hots for you."

Max, whom you've known for a while now, started to blush.

"Are you blushing?" you teased.

"No!" he denied, looking away.

You laughed, enjoying seeing Max flustered. "Come on, it's obvious you like her too."

Max rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact. "She's… she's great. But I'm not sure she sees me that way."

You raised an eyebrow. "Oh, trust me, she does. That text was asking about you, after all."

Max sighed, trying to hide his smile. "Alright, alright. Maybe I'll talk to her."

"Good," you said, giving him a playful nudge. "You deserve to be happy, Max."

He smiled, finally meeting your eyes. "Thanks, Y/N. I appreciate that."

You looked around the apartment, thinking about the journey you and Jake had been on. "As for rebuilding a relationship… it takes time, patience, and a lot of communication. We both had to be honest about our mistakes and our feelings. Even that was a challenge. It's not easy, but it's worth it."

Max nodded thoughtfully. "I'll keep that in mind. You and Jake are a great example of what love and dedication can do."

You smiled, touched by his words. "Thanks. Now, let's get this place in order before we fly out to Wyoming," you said with a sigh.

"What about all the stuff from the baby shower?"

"Oh, Penny is taking care of that. I told her to send it and let me know how much it was and I would reimburse her. Chuck is aware of it's arrival." You turned and looked at him. "I found a small cabin to rent while we're there."

"Let me know half and I'll have it reimbursed for work," he replied.

"Will do," you responded as you sighed again and looked around the apartment. "I'll start in the bedroom. Did you just want to order take out since our flight leaves early in the morning?"

"Do you do this every time Jake leaves?" Max asked.

"Do what?"

"Clean his apartment."

"This is only the second time I've done it. Thankfully he doesn't have much here."

Max nodded. "Makes sense and yes. Take out is fine."

Later that night, you and Max sat at the small table in Jake's apartment eating Chinese food.

Max took a sip from his cup of tea and looked across the table at you. "You know, Y/N, I have to say, you’re handling all of this really well."

You smiled, pushing some rice around on your plate. "Thank you, Max. It’s been a lot, but I’ve got good people around me. Plus, it’s not the first time I've had to manage on my own."

Max nodded, understanding. "Still, it’s not easy. But you’re strong. I’ve always admired that about you."

You felt a warmth from his words. "I couldn’t do it without everyone’s support. And knowing Jake is out there doing what he loves makes it a bit easier."

Max’s eyes softened. "He’s a lucky guy. And you’re going to be a fantastic mom. I have no doubt about it."

You laughed softly. "I hope so. I guess we’ll find out soon enough."

"Are you scared?" he asked, suddenly serious.

You looked up at him, your eyes reflecting a mix of vulnerability and determination. "Yeah. I mean, I have so many questions about myself. Will I make the best decisions? Will I be able to handle everything? It’s a lot to take on, and sometimes I wonder if I’m ready for it all."

Max laughed. "This coming from a large animal veterinarian."

You mixed your food on your plate. "A baby isn't a large animal, Max."

Max chuckled, shaking his head. "True. But you’ve dealt with a lot of challenges with those large animals, and I’m sure you’ll handle this one just as well."

You smiled, appreciating his encouragement. "I guess it’s all about adapting and learning as you go, right?"

"Exactly," Max agreed, leaning back in his chair. "And I'm sure Jake's family will be there to help."

You laughed, a big smile on your face. "That is true."

As you both enjoyed your meal, the conversation shifted to lighter topics, with Max recounting amusing stories from his travels and you sharing updates about life back home. The comfort of having a friend by your side made the evening feel warmer and more manageable.

Tags: @buckysteveloki-me @bellyliveslife @tgmreader @callsign-barbell @86laura11 @dizzybee03 @kmc1989 @guacam011y @nerdgirljen @hookslove1592 @dempy @djs8891 @smoothdogsgirl

[katerina-marie]

Don't Go Slowly, Tell Me If You're Lonely (Series)

Chapter 4

Gojo Satoru x Reader & (past) Geto Suguru x Reader

Your relationship with Geto Suguru came to an end somewhere between the day of his betrayal and the day of his death. Your relationship with Gojo Satoru began somewhere in the midst of it all, even without you realizing.

WC: 8.4k

Content: Canon Divergence, Gojo x Female Reader (referred to as such but left descriptively vague), (past) Geto Suguru x Female Reader, Geto's canonical death, friends to lovers, angst, eventual happy ending, fluff later, reader is a sorcerer (left vague tho), no use of y/n. More notes below.

Chapter Count: Chp 1, Chp 2, Chp 3, Chp 4, Chp 5, Chp 6 (Final)

Notes: Would you believe me if I said the first two points on my outline for this chapter were "Omg, footsies" and "Fight, fight, fight"?

-------------------------------------------------

Chapter 4: Take Me From Your Vault, Tell Me It's My Fault (You Only Know What I Want You To)

After the initial shock of seeing Gojo Satoru waiting out in front of the airport, it was clear to you that you would never quite get over the flash of white hair, his towering stature, or those eyes of his that caught attention wherever he went if they just so happened to be uncovered as they were right then. His grin was slow to appear once you spotted one another, but still alluring to you nonetheless, and you had to tighten your grip on your luggage when the sweat of your palm made your grip on it slip. You forced yourself to walk to him at a steady pace, not quite faster than normal, but if the steps you took towards him were just barely longer than felt natural, you would blame it on your eagerness to get home. 

You fretted at what to do when you reached him. Standing there and simply looking up at him felt awkward. Wrapping your arms around him was impractical when you were dragging a suitcase in one hand and a large tote was hanging off your opposite shoulder. Maybe he would just start walking along with you and you could avoid a blundering interaction altogether, but just before you came upon him, you saw his right hand twitch upwards and you had your decision made. 

You came to a stop in front of him, and with deliberate concentration, you calmly set aside your luggage and tote before looking up at him with bated breath and a curious expression. Satoru returned it in kind, white hair falling just so into his eyes, and you encircled his waist with your arms and felt him do the same around your shoulders. Every point of contact was a spark of awareness in your mind, and the clean scent of soap that lingered around him to the silken texture of his uniform was comforting in its familiarity, but thrilling in the way it felt like meeting him again for the first time. The hug didn’t last unnecessarily long, plenty appropriate for reuniting friends, but Satoru was stiff when he pulled away and his back was stuck straight. Nimble fingers closed in around the backs of your arms and you were unnerved by the way his mouth opened and shut twice in quick succession before he dropped all contact and took a step back. 

“I’m sorry,” you said, now apprehensive at the way Satoru didn’t seem to know what to do with himself, “I didn’t mean to—,” 

He interrupted you with a shake of his head as he reached up to rub at the back of his neck. “Nothing to apologize for.” With a quick duck behind you, he grabbed the handle of your luggage and swiped your tote off the ground with his free hand, and whatever odd emotion had tightened his countenance was gone by the time he rightened himself back up and was replaced with his trademark smirk. “Ready?”

You could do nothing more than nod, and you fell into step beside him as the two of you started off towards his car. He began to talk about something related to his new student, but you only partially listened and were mostly preoccupied by the commotion going on in your head. You had hoped that his unusual reaction hadn’t been anything more than a quick adjustment to your presence after so long apart. Because you, on the other hand, were stupefied when you set your on eyes on him for the first time in a year and could formulate only one singular thought:

Oh. He was handsome. 

————————————————

The clock on your nightstand read twelve after six in the morning when a second knock on your door woke you from sleep. In between the third and the fourth, you managed to stumble blearily out of your bed, and Gojo Satoru was about to knock a fifth time when you swung open your door. 

“You know,” you grumbled, rubbing away the sleep from your eyes, “I really don’t appreciate your propensity for waking me up at unreasonable hours. I just got home two days ago. I need rest.” 

Satoru was unbothered, and he leaned against your door frame with a careless shrug of his shoulders. “You missed my birthday last month. Now that you’re home, I think it’s reasonable we go out and celebrate.” 

You hoped your deadpan expression was enough to convey to him the depth of your contempt for his audacity, and you gripped the edge of the door to slam it in his face in case the message wasn’t clear enough. What he called out next stayed your hand. 

“There’s food involved!” 

You narrowed your eyes at him, annoyed at the victorious grin on his face because he apparently knew you better than you thought, insofar as that you could easily be bested by the temptation of breakfast. While you were somewhat concerned about whatever mood he seemed to be in since your arrival back home, the grin on his face was genuine and eager, and you had missed him far too much to let his peculiarities get in the way of spending time with him. But Satoru didn’t need to know that, and it was too early in the morning for you to dwell on it further, so you let out a sigh of defeat and glared at your friend. 

“Give me fifteen minutes.” 

Half an hour later found you and Satoru in the middle of the city. The biting winter air of a dreary morning could do nothing to stave off the rush of bittersweet nostalgia that overcame you when the two of you rounded a corner and came to a stop in front of a familiar red brick building. A swirl of cursive French hanging from a wooden sign above the entrance announced the name of the bakery inside, and the bronze of the door handles wore down gold from years of use. 

“God, when was the last time we were all here?” you asked, astonishment coloring your tone, and when you turned to look at Satoru, his smile was wistful as he peered through the large glass window to the side of the door. You suspected his eyes would look practically the same if they weren’t hidden behind his blindfold.

“Nanami’s birthday, if I remember correctly. The last one before…everything.” 

The laugh that bubbled up and out of your mouth was thick with emotion, but you grabbed onto Satoru’s arm in barely contained excitement and gave him a tug forward. “Let’s go!” 

He humored you, letting you pull him along until the two of you were right up by the entrance, then reached out ahead of you to open the door and motion you through with a grand sweeping of his arm. The whole thing felt a bit silly, but it thrilled you nonetheless, and the immediate barrage on your nose of the scent of fresh baked pastries made your stomach growl. You were quick to glance around at the open tables to take a seat, and one particular spot caught your eye. 

“Our table!” you squealed, doing your best to be mindful of the other patrons already present by keeping your voice a volume level lower than normal.. 

Satoru was quick on your heels as you nearly skipped over to a table in the back corner of the bakery. It wasn’t fully centered under the large window overlooking the street, but just slightly behind it, allowing for a picturesque view of the awakening city without having to be watched from walking passerbyers. The tan leather of the seats groaned and squeaked the same as you remembered as you lowered yourself down into one. 

Out of the corner of your eye, Satoru swiped a triangular piece of paper slashed with black script from where it was propped up against the utensil holder between you and shoved it into his pocket before taking his seat. You were too preoccupied with grabbing the menu to pay him any attention, and you opened it up to scan the seemingly endless options of varying teas and coffees, savory breads and decadent pastries that were masquerading as a breakfast option, all the while a scene from the last time you were here played out in your head. 

“Wait, so you didn’t tell Nanami we were going to be here?” Suguru and Satoru had the gall to look chagrined from where they sat sprawled out in their chairs across the table from you. 

“Nope,” Satoru muttered, popping the last part of the word as it left his mouth while Suguru shook his head. 

You huffed in exasperation and turned back to the menu in your hand, unwilling to devote any more brain power to chastising the troubling twosome. 

Poor, unsuspecting Nanami. He frequented this bakery most mornings on his commute as some ritual habit to help relieve the tediousness of your collective career. He’d arrive at the school with a warm sandwich in hand, a drink in the other, and would refuse to speak more than a brief pleasantry to anyone before he was able to eat his breakfast in relative peace. While Nanami had reluctantly shared the location of this particular bakery with the three of you, he had never once extended an invitation to join him. You feared that as soon as he walked through the door and caught sight of the mismatched pair of white and black hair disrupting his sacred tradition—on his birthday, no less—he’d walk right back out, sandwich and beverage be damned. A travesty, really, for the food here was worthy of the divine.

“I don’t know which one to pick!” you whined, eyes switching back and forth between two options listed on the menu. “One’s smothered in chocolate, but the other has my favorite fruit on it.”

“I’ll share with you,” Satoru offered, but the mischievous gleam in his eyes that were half-hidden by his glasses promised nothing beneficial would come out of such an arrangement.

“Absolutely not,” you snapped back, “you’ll take two huge bites and not even leave enough for me to lick off the plate.” 

Satoru snickered. “Suit yourself.” 

Before you could launch a verbal attack, Suguru interrupted you with a nudge of his leg under the table. “I’ll get one,” he said, though you couldn’t say he sounded a hundred percent willing, “and you get the other one, that way you can try both.” 

You gave your boyfriend a sappy smile and wriggled happily in your seat. “Thank you, Suguru,” you cooed at him. He rolled his eyes playfully, but next to him Satoru gagged. You considered it beneath you to give attention to such behavior and ignored Satoru in favor of brushing your foot down Suguru’s calf to rub against his. He paid you no mind, but you continued on and let your eyes wander across the bakery. 

A tall head of blonde hair and peculiar glasses caught your attention, and you grinned at Nanami when he noticed you from his spot at the door. He was surprised at seeing you here, that was for sure, but there was the slightest smile on his face. It even looked like he was about to take a step towards you until his gaze flicked down to Suguru and Satoru, and all emotion slid clean off his face. Nanami spun around and made for the exit.

“Nanami spotted you two and is now on the run,” you announced calmly, and it took a moment for it to register before Suguru was throwing his seat back and on his feet to chase after your friend. 

You couldn’t blame Nanami for trying his best to escape, not when you knew Satoru was going to sing him an off-key rendition of ‘happy birthday’ while forcing him to wear one of those ridiculous party hats. You offering to pay for his meal as a celebratory treat wouldn’t be able to undo whatever mood he was going to be in after. But alas, Nanami would tolerate the chaos, and you decided not to call off Suguru as he was just about to make it out the door. Instead, you continued nudging your foot along the length of his—,

Wait a minute.

You jerked your head towards Satoru only to be repulsed at the sight of him concealing muffled noises of amusement behind his fist. His foot tapped against yours once from where they were still intertwined, and you wrenched yours back with a gasp.

“You’re incorrigible!” you sputtered at him, face blanching when laughter burst forth from his mouth. Satoru threw his head back against his chair, mouth open wide and hands braced against his stomach. It was loud enough to draw looks from others in the bakery, and you were one minute shy of bashing him over the head with a plate. 

By the time Suguru returned with a vexed looking Nanami under his arm, Satoru was wiping tears from his cheeks while you sat with your arms crossed and legs tucked up under you on your seat. 

“You okay?” Satoru’s murmured question ripped you back into the present, and his brows furrowed in perplexed concern at whatever he saw on your face. Whether it was solemn longing for the feeling of completeness from when you all had been able to gather together, or grateful sorrow that it had happened at all was anyone’s best guess, and both just so happened to be competing for the room you had left to offer. “Too much?” 

You shook your head and did your best to offer Satoru a faint smile. “No,” you said, voice soft but steady. You looked about the bakery, taking in the sounds of muted chatter and the clinking of dishes until you landed back at him. “Not this time.” 

He seemed content with your answer, so you went back to perusing the menu, ready to negotiate a sharing of desserts when you felt the curve of his foot hook gently around the back of your ankle. 

While unexpected, the contact wasn’t unwelcome, and it broke goosebumps out all along your body. The sensation had happened once before—the subtle tickle of titillating energy underneath your skin—and it was in the early days of your burgeoning relationship with Suguru. Except this time, he wasn’t the first person pictured in your mind and the guilt of it never followed. Instead, when you tapped your foot back against the one still next to yours, all you could focus on was the minute smile in the corner of Satoru’s lips and the restless drumming of his fingers as he ducked his head to peer down at his own menu.

No, it certainly wasn’t too much. 

————————————————

“So, the pink hair is natural?” 

Satoru hummed out a confirmation from where he lay spread out on top of your bed, his feet dangling off one end and his head cushioned by your pillows on the other. His eyes followed you lazily as you fluttered between boxes stacked in varying corners of your new room. Upon arriving back from your year on assignment, you had been fortunate enough to move down the hall into a larger, more updated room, and in exchange for waking you up for breakfast, Satoru had offered to follow you back and help unpack. However, you were beginning to seriously doubt how much assistance he could really offer if he never left his spot on your bed. 

“Well…interesting, I guess,” you said as you pulled some of your clothing from a box and recalled your first meeting with said pink-haired student the previous afternoon. You had run into Satoru and Itadori yesterday while walking through campus, and after proper introductions, your friend had given you a quick run-down on everything related to Itadori Yuji. The boy had a smile wider than you had ever seen but was equally infectious, and his child-like enthusiasm had melted your heart just a little—his penchant for swallowing cursed objects aside.

“And I’m just here to help train him?” you asked, walking over to your bed to grab at the extra blanket trapped under Satoru. You tugged at the edge of it, but it didn’t budge, and he made no attempt to lift any of his weight as he tucked his hands behind him under his head. 

“Yup,” Satoru said, looking far too amused as you continued to pull with your best efforts. “Since there’s three first years now and three of us instructors, I figured we could all spend time investing in some one-on-one training with each of them while I handle their group training most days.” 

“Sounds like a smart idea, and I—will you get off?” you snapped at him. Satoru responded with an exaggerated roll of his eyes, and with a heaving sigh, rolled to his side just enough that you could yank the blanket out from under him. “If you don’t start helping, I’m going to kick you out.” 

“Fine, fine,” he muttered and slowly pushed himself up and off your bed before shuffling off behind you. As you began folding up your blanket, you could hear the rustling of moving boxes and you hoped Satoru would actually get to work instead of finding another spot to take a nap in

“As I was saying, I’ll be happy to teach him. Itadori seems like a good kid, if not slightly misguided in what constitutes bravery versus stupidity, if how he ended up here is anything to go by. I’ll probably regret asking, but what did he swallow again?” you asked, folding the last corner of the blanket together and then reaching over to set it delicately on the corner of your bed. You then moved on to readjust the pillows Satoru had been lounging on while waiting for his response. 

“Satoru?” You looked back behind you to see him staring down at the desk pushed back against the opposite wall of your room and a small brown box was sitting next to him on top. You walked over to his side to peek at what had stolen his attention, and your breath rushed out of you in a quiet “oh.” 

In his hands and covering the entirety of the desk were dozens of different photos, each one displaying various combinations of you, Suguru, and Satoru. More were sitting in the box, and you suspected you had left it behind when you took off on your assignment, forgetting about it and all its contents until now. You glanced over every one that you could, taking in the smiling faces and goofy poses, and tried to welcome the bittersweetness of reminiscing. 

“Look,” you said to Satoru, reaching for a photo half-hidden under another, “I think this is our first picture together.” You held the photo up between the two of you, watching Satoru’s face from the corner of your eye as he leaned down a touch over your shoulder to study the photo. 

“I think you’re right,” he murmured. “Suguru made us take it, and the two of you had just started dating. I don’t think we knew what to make of each other yet.” 

“That’s a good way to put it,” you laughed. You studied the photo for another moment, noticing the awkward way you had your arm wrapped around Satoru’s back and how his had laid crooked around your neck. He hadn’t yet transitioned to blindfolds, and his dark glasses were perched on the tip of his nose. Your bodies were stiff and slightly shifted apart so that no more of you would come into contact with the other, but your smiles were wide and full of teeth, mostly for the man behind the camera. 

“It doesn’t feel like these are at least half a decade old,” Satoru said, picking up another photo of just him and Suguru in matching uniforms and smug grins. Each of them were sporting various bruises and cuts over their heads and necks, and you were sure there was an interesting story behind it. 

“Time passes quicker than we realize,” you said softly, and without thinking too much of it, you leaned your head to rest it gently on Satoru’s arm. “I suppose I need to do something with them, maybe put them in a photobook or something. I don’t want to get rid of them. I just wish…” 

You weren’t exactly sure what you were going to wish for. For Suguru to come back? To be alive, but wholly different? For time to rewind years into the past in the hopes you could prevent what would happen? Or for things to stay the same, but for it to hurt less, if just the feeling of grief itself could speed along into something more easily managed?

“Well,” Satoru quipped, stepping away from you rather abruptly to make his way towards your door, “sounds like a good idea to me, but it’ll have to wait. I promised Yuji we’d meet him for training here in just a bit.” 

Add whiplash to the list of calamities one might incur in the presence of the great Gojo Satoru.

“Are you serious?” you asked him, incredulousness making you sound a bit sharper than you intended, but then again you weren’t sure if the question was directed towards his sudden departure that nearly left him stumbling, or the fact you had just barely made a dent in unpacking and Satoru was already running off again. 

“Absolutely,” he exclaimed, nearly halfway out the door already, and you were left to scurry around your room to find shoes before chasing after him. 

“You still have to help me unpack!” 

————————————————

As you would find out in the coming weeks, the teaching of the next generation never came without its perils. 

“I am really sorry,” Itadori said, rushing to get the words out while he bowed at you in the same breath. You laid on his shoulder the hand that wasn’t busy holding an ice pack against your wound, and waited until he stood back up to offer him a reassuring smile from where you sat on an infirmary bed. 

“It happens from time to time, and I forgive you, so no need to apologize anymore. It was also my fault. I was distracted.” 

It was insulting enough to your pride to have been unable to dodge Itadori’s blow—where he lacked in experience he clearly made up with brute force—and it was made even worse for you to know that you were too busy fretting over Satoru’s rapidly changing moods to anticipate the attack or notice the sudden eruption of energy over Itadori’s fist before it made contact with your ribcage. 

You were quite unenthused at how Satoru volleyed back and forth between contentment in your presence and fleeing from the sight of you in the next. The thought of confronting him had crossed your mind more than once, but he had been unusually busy in the month since your last intentional time spent together at breakfast and the opportunity had yet to arise. 

In the meantime, you had offered your assistance to wherever you could be of help, and it had come in the form of pale pink hair and a puppy-esque personality. After landing his blow to your ribs, Itadori had followed you to Shoko’s infirmary, hands hovering all around as you walked with your arm braced under your chest, and he was obsequious in his haste to meet whatever perceived need you had while the two of you waited for Shoko. Where she was, however, was unbeknownst to you, but you suspected it might have something to do with the group of friends she seemed to have made while you were overseas. She had been persistent in getting you to join her for a night out in the few weeks you had been home, but you hadn’t quite felt up to going out, and you had used the excuse of obligatory training with Itadori to get out of this evening’s invitation. 

“Can I do anything else?” Itadori’s eyes were wide and his mouth was set into a dejected pout.

“No,” you assured him, “so please, go out and enjoy your Friday night. I’ll be fine waiting here for Shoko.” He seemed hesitant to leave you alone, but his desire to respect your authority must have won out because he began to step backwards towards the door. 

“Okay,” he said, his hand fumbling behind him for the handle while he still kept his eyes on you. “I don’t mind staying if you change your mind.” 

You shook your head and leaned further back against the pillows bracing your shoulders and back. “Go on.” 

Itadoria was all but one foot out the door and you let your eyes shut after tossing the ice pack aside when he called out to you. “Oh, I called Gojo-sensei earlier to let him know!” 

You lurched forward instinctively and immediately regretted it when pain burned through your side. It left you dizzy and vaguely sick to your stomach, and you fell back against the pillows before you reached down into your pocket to dig your phone out. The thought of sending a text to Satoru to downplay whatever Itadori had told him was tempting, especially if it kept him from appearing in the very room you were in, and you had just pulled up the message thread between you two when the door opened again and in he walked. 

“I heard you got beat up by a first year.” His voice was full of amusement, but there was something hollow about it. 

You watched as Satoru sidled up next to your bed, trying to gauge whatever mood he might be in from the movement of his body. The black blindfold was securely in place over his eyes, so you were already at a disadvantage. His shoulders were thrown back and his hands were shoved deep into his pockets, all pointing to an attitude of nonchalance, but something about him had been unusually tense as of late, and it had you on edge. 

“A silly mistake on my part, but yes.” While you couldn’t see where his eyes moved, you swore his head turned ever so slightly in either direction over you. 

“May I?” He asked, gesturing a hand toward your side. You deliberated on whether or not letting him look would serve any real purpose, but his fingers twitched towards the edge of your shirt and you nodded. He helped you sit back up, and you kept your eyes on his fingers when they gathered the fabric into his hands to lift it out of the way. Satoru observed the skin you suspected was now mottled with varying shades of purple and blue, but didn’t say a word otherwise. 

He eventually let your shirt drop back into place and left your bedside to retrieve another ice pack from the freezer at the back of the room. He had the grace to wrap it with a cloth before coming back to slide it underneath your shirt, but the cold was still a shock to your skin and you jerked away from it without thought. The same pain from earlier returned, and you couldn’t help the whimper that made it out between your gritted teeth. 

“Easy now,” he murmured to you, one hand holding the ice pack against your ribs while the other came up to skim his knuckles over your temple. You leaned back into the pillows as gently as you could to rest your weary body and angled your head so you could peer up at him as he kept his face turned in your direction. You understood the necessity of his blindfold, but you had a mounting frustration for it as of late. Where Satoru was proficient at clearing his expressions of any feeling, of putting forth a playful facade to mask whatever was troubling him, he could never quite keep the emotion from sneaking its way into his eyes, and now, as you did your best to stare through the dark fabric keeping them hidden, you wanted nothing more than to rip it away. 

“Satoru,” you said softly, crossing your arm over your chest to reach for the hand he still used to hold the ice pack to your ribs, “Are you—,”

The slamming of a door down the hall interrupted whatever was going to come out of your mouth, and Satoru was up and feet away from you in the next instant. 

“Shoko’s here,” he announced to you, his voice breezy and even-keeled, “I’ll check on you later.” 

He was out the door before you could protest, and in his absence you were left to worry about what exactly was going wrong.

————————————————

You had just crossed through the front gates of Jujutsu High after a failed blind date when you decided it was finally time to move off campus and into an apartment of your own, if only to spare yourself the humiliation of ever doing it again in a place where co-workers and students alike could see you arrive home dejected and alone. 

Spring had yet to arrive to ease the cold sting of the nightime breeze, and the complimenting wrap to your dress did next to nothing to abate how it chilled your exposed skin. Each step down the cobblestone path made your feet throb in your heels and every inch of you was filled with regret for putting in the effort to dress yourself up for something you knew you had no hope for. 

Nothing about the date itself had particularly gone awry. The man had been perfectly mundane, kind in his words but only slightly more interesting than his equally boring job. The food was marginally better, but each bite passed through your mouth in a tasteless lump and landed uncomfortably in your stomach. You had made an attempt to be politely interested and reciprocated any questions he had probed you with, but the only thing you could get yourself to care about was how quickly you could hail a taxi and return home. You’d have to apologize to Shoko for possibly insulting her friend, and you made a mental note to never again offer a favor as a thanks for interrupting her evening to have your wounds treated. 

In reality, the failure came from everything the man wasn’t. At no point did he have the same warm brown eyes that had tempted you into a first date years and years ago, nor did he know how you preferred your steak or what wine you would reach for first if given the option. He wasn’t Suguru, and you bemoaned the fact that every date after this one would most likely be one in the same, over and over until maybe one day—if you were lucky—one of them would pique your interest enough that you wouldn’t spend the whole date comparing them to a ghost.

Yet, in something more terrifying than a hopeless comparison, it was for whom you yearned to be sitting in front of you at dinner that occupied the majority of your thoughts. You had found yourself wishing that the eyes staring back at you had been a breathtaking shade of blue, and when your date had nervously run his fingers through his hair, you were disappointed that it wasn’t the same shock of white you had become so adept at spotting in a crowd. Satoru had been at the forefront of your mind the entire night—for the last few months, even—and you spent the whole car ride home trying to reconcile what your heart was wanting to what you thought was honorable to a lover lost. 

What could you possibly owe to a man dead and buried?

“Pretty dress.” Satoru’s voice rang loud and clear in the stillness of the evening, and the unexpected sight of him leaning against the entrance to the school’s living quarters had you frozen in place a few feet away. He was still in his uniform even though it was late enough in the day that any work obligations could wait until tomorrow, and his blindfold was pulled up over his forehead.

“Thank you,” you called back to him, fighting off the urge to squirm in place when his eyes traced every inch of you from the tips of your shoes to how you had styled your hair, and your heart throbbed so violently it actually caused your chest to ache. “It was wasted on the evening, but…” you trailed off with a shrug of your shoulders.

Satoru made a noise of disagreement and pushed off the wall he was propped up against to walk towards you. He kicked lazily at a rock or two in his path and you followed one with your eyes as it tumbled to and fro before coming to a stop against your shoe. “You look beautiful though,” he said. “Shame that the date didn’t go well.” Not one word of that last sentence sounded sincere. 

You glanced up to him in surprise, your eyebrows raising in question. “Shoko mentioned it earlier,” he offered, coming to a stop just before the tips of his shoes could touch yours.

The idea that Satoru had been waiting for you—specifically to return home from a date—flitted across your mind and it made your stomach flip nervously. “It didn’t go badly or anything like that. Just a fruitless endeavor,” you admitted quietly.

There was a small noise in the back of his throat, but otherwise Satoru didn’t say anything else, and ensuing silence left you to stand there anxiously. As was common in the time since you’d been home, the air between you two felt thick with tension and something unspoken, and the way his eyes had never left you while his fingers played in the pockets of his pants had you longing to step nearer and wrought it out of him.

You caught a glimpse of a piece of his hair that was stuck awkwardly in between his forehead and blindfold, and you used it as an excuse to move towards him. He tracked the rising of your arm as you hooked a finger under the loop of hair to loosen it free, and when your hand lingered there after it was done, he turned his head ever so slightly to nudge his nose against the inside of your wrist. The tip of it was just as cold as the surrounding night and you barely held back a shiver as it skimmed across your skin. Even though half his face was blocked by your arm, one of his eyes still held contact with yours, and sent your pulse racing. 

Satoru didn’t move as you lowered your hand to rest it against his side, and his eyes went half-lidded as you rocked onto the balls of your feet. You shut off the part of your mind that blared at you that this wasn’t something to be swept aside once done, but the idea of it had taken up too much of your thoughts lately for you to let it go untried. Your hands landed delicately on his chest and certainly he could hear the shakiness of your breath, maybe even feel it as you leaned your head to the side so your nose didn’t press too firmly into his, and you let your eyes drift closed just as you tilted your head back to brush your lips against his. 

“I can’t,” you heard him whisper, voice full of sorrow and longing, and he stepped back from you as your eyes popped open. “Not like this.” 

Your stomach fell to your feet, and you were immediately overwhelmed with a sense of embarrassment and regret. You cursed yourself for apparently reading wrong what was going on between you two this entire time, and your body flushed with sickening warmth as your mind plied you with every vile thing he could possibly be thinking in response to your attempt to kiss him. 

You wrung your hands as you stumbled backwards. “Satoru, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have, and with Suguru—,” 

Satoru shook his head, eyes wide, and his lips trembled as they opened up to say what he did next. “God, no, that’s not it.” A bitter laugh followed, and it sounded like he was questioning how exactly he got himself in such a predicament. “I’ve been lying to you.” 

Confusion and a building dread swept over you, and it must have shown on your face because he tore his gaze from you to glance around at the school grounds surrounding you both in a way that was helpless and searching. You twisted your hands into the fabric of your dress. “Satoru, I—,” 

He head snapped back to yours and in a rush he let out, “I lied to you that night. Suguru did say something.” 

Only once before had you felt your world tilt so violently on its axis, and the last time it did was the night he was referring to. Your mind went blank with static as you stared at Satoru in utter disbelief. You could feel your mouth struggling to form words that wanted to be said, but you couldn’t get the air in your lungs to flow freely enough to get anything out. Satoru lifted his foot to move towards you with a hand held out, but you lurched backwards. 

“What do you mean by ‘something?’” you managed out, raising your arm to hold your palm up to him. A cold prickle at your eyes hinted at the tears that were about to start flowing, and you watched forlornly as Satoru hesitated. His hands clenched and unclenched rapidly at his sides as his face contorted between grief and fear. “Tell me!” you demanded of him through gritted teeth. 

“Suguru and I—,” he paused to swallow and clear his throat audibly, “we spoke for a couple minutes…at the end. And he—he said some things about you.” A sob gathered in your chest and your body shook as Satoru looked like he desperately regretted every single choice that brought him to this moment. 

“Say it,” you pleaded with him, swiping furiously at your cheeks and nose to wipe away the moisture gathering there, “you have to say it. It’s not fair that I only know what you want me to.” 

Satoru bit down hard on his lip and took a step forward as he began to recount his last conversation with Suguru to you. You hung onto every word he said, but snuck a peak at the ground before you. Your stomach had begun to clench and roll in a way that threatened your earlier dinner, and only the pain of each word leaving his mouth kept you from staggering off to a bush. 

“She’s yours now, it would seem.”

Had you meant so little to Suguru that he could trade you off into the arms of another in a last ditch effort to clean up the mess he made? 

“Consider it a dying wish.” 

Suguru could have asked for anything, begged the world of his best friend in his final moments and Satoru would have relented. This is what had prevailed over any other request?

“You haven’t exactly said ‘no’, Satoru.”

Some sick and twisted part of you was wounded in your pride at how vehemently he had rejected the idea of you and him right after.

“She would not want me as I am now.” 

He was right. Your Suguru had died years before the night his heart had beat its last, but you would have given anything—any part of you—to see him one last time. To commit to memory every detail of him you had sworn you already knew if only to imprint him into your very being. But, as you had come to learn, Suguru hadn’t ever intended to offer you a final farewell, instead leaving you with words that felt empty and meaningless as they were relayed to you over a year later by proxy of his best friend. They made your skin crawl, and you wished you could pluck them out one by one from where they bounced chaotically in your mind, tumbling over and over another until they mixed into a single rush of sound. You would hurl them at the ground, into the arms of his best friend because never again did you want to recall the most dreadful words you had ever had the misfortune of hearing. 

“I’m sorry,” Satoru whispered, stilted and haunted. There were tears in his own eyes, and hot fury washed over you when your own traitorous heart craved to seek and offer comfort in him despite his own duplicity. “What he said was—,”

“It’s not even what Suguru said that bothers me so badly, Satoru,” you spat at him, stunning him into silence as he recoiled at the insistence behind your words. The idea of them, the meaning behind “she’s yours now,” wouldn’t have disgusted you that night like it didn’t now—though you can’t say they would have been welcomed—but having to hear them over a year later instead of right after Suguru died would prove to be the undoing. 

You hated the flicker of emotion in Satoru’s eyes, how it softened the corners of them and eased some slack into his previously clenched jaw. It was something teetering between undeserved hopefulness and tentative optimism, and you hated it because you knew you had been battling the exact same feelings from the moment you laid eyes on him at the airport. 

“I have spent every single second since that night convincing myself that I would be okay,” you cried to him, letting the tears in your eyes blur his figure beyond recognition just so you didn’t have to look at how his face crumpled at the pain in your voice. “It has taken all the time since then to repair even a fraction of the damage Suguru did to me, and you just undid all of it!”

“I know,” he groaned, reaching his hands up to rake them through his hair and tug at the ends of it, “I should have told you, and I’m so sorry, but I couldn’t think straight afterwards and I didn’t know what to do—,” 

“You don’t understand, Satoru,” you bit out, voice low as you walked forward to close some of the distance between you two and jab a finger into his chest. “You have someone out there waiting for you. You lost your best friend, I won’t downplay that, but me?” 

You had to stifle a whimper and Satoru looked as if you had ripped his heart from his chest. “I thought I had found my person. I was done. Suguru was it for me. A family, leaving the world of jujutsu behind, exploring the ends of the earth, or any other endless possibility—I wasn’t sure of any of these things, except for the fact that I would want them with him if that’s what we decided.”

A sob finally shook your shoulders and you reached up to curl your fingers deep into the fabric of his uniform in the hopes it would keep you standing. You had to tip your head back to look up at him. “But Suguru’s gone, and I had to live a whole year grieving and lamenting a future ripped from me, all the while you kept hidden words that made it seem like he had never once considered one for us. And I would have rather spent that time knowing so, to not pour myself out everyday for someone who didn’t deserve it.” 

Satour started to lift his hand to lay them over yours, but you yanked them from his chest before he could and crossed them over one another. The gulp of his throat was audible over the rustling of the leaves that scattered the ground next to you. “You’re right,” he said and his voice was frail. “I’ll always regret lying to you that night, but I just thought—,” 

Something snapped in your mind. “It doesn’t matter what you thought!” you screamed at him, words spilling out before you could understand the weight of them. “That wasn’t a choice for you to make for me! How dare you think you were entitled to such a decision. Can’t you see? Suguru had done the exact same thing, convincing himself and you that the two of you somehow knew what would be best for me! You were wrong. You were no better than him, and I hate—!” 

Your mouth snapped shut with a loud clacking of your teeth. You had been almost completely certain that it wasn’t going to be Satoru you were about to lay your hatred on, but every single speck of emotion died just the same on his face. Panic stilled your tongue and kept you from reaching for him when Satoru stepped back from you and lowered his blindfold. Right before it covered his eyes, you could see the impassivity that neutralized his features, and you feared the repercussions of what couldn’t be taken back. 

“Satoru,” you breathed out, scrounging your brain to come up with something to placate the words that were surely bringing life to his worst fears, but you were silenced by the hand he abruptly held up. It lingered in the air for a second before he let it drop down and into his pocket, and he didn’t give you a chance to speak before he brushed past you, his long legs eating up the ground. All you could do was turn to stare agape at his retreating figure, everything but his hair blending into the night completely. 

————————————————

There would be no rest for you in the shelter of your bed, nor would you find respite in the pacing of your floors. Minutes that ticked by on the clock transitioned into hours passed. When you couldn’t think through the feeling of being trapped by the walls of your room, you shed your dress and heels and pulled on any thickly layered article of clothing you could find before walking out into the barely lit morning.

Not once after the funeral had you entertained the idea of visiting Suguru’s grave, but you were hard pressed to keep your legs from carrying you up the hill to where he lay. The walk there felt reminiscent of the night he died: dark and dreadful and devastated. Each step you took echoed one of their names, and you had wrestled earlier with the decision of who to go to first. Practicality drove you to the dead man. You’d be lucky to find Satoru if he wasn’t interested in letting you. 

When you reached the grouping of trees that sat off from the trail, you stopped to stare at the barely visible monument marking Suguru’s grave. A great sense of sorrow filled the air around you as you saw how it sat lonely in the middle of a forest, but you would have never wanted it to be placed any closer to you than where it stood now. Unhurriedly, you forced yourself to move forward. You lowered yourself down to your knees at the edge of Suguru’s grave when you reached it, and you put your hands down to bury your fingers into the earth when your shoulders felt so heavy that they fell downwards to be closer to where he rested. You sat there as light trickled in slowly through the trees and began to fill in all the dark spaces.

“I would have wanted to say the last things I had for you months and months ago, even when I felt like you didn’t deserve it,” you said eventually. Tears dripped into the ground between your hands and you could see as one trickled down a blade of grass to disappear into the soil below it. “And I’m still not sure if you do. God, how I hate what you did to me…to us…and what it did to Satoru.” 

You swallowed down the thickness in your throat and yanked at the grass in between your fingers. “I would have followed you to the ends of the earth, Suguru. Not in the way you ultimately chose, but in the promises we whispered into each other’s skin.” 

Nothing was quite as painful as ‘almost.’ 

“I would have fought with you and screamed at you that night if you would have offered me that. It doesn’t seem like it would have made a difference to you, but I would be better for it.” You wiped the back of your hand under your nose, and then sniffled when it didn’t help in drying it off. 

“But you didn’t have anything to say to me, and instead you passed that burden on to Satoru. It was unfairly cruel, and I’m not sure who I’ll blame more out of the two of us if this is where I lose him too.” Fear was what was driving you to go to Satoru, but heartbreak kept you on your knees. 

“One day, someone is going to take your place and help me fix what you broke. It’s something I can do on my own, but I deserve to be happy and to have a future with someone when you decided all on your own not to continue ours.” 

You pushed up off your hands and knees and got to your feet to look down at the stone bearing Suguru’s name. “This isn’t because of you,” you whispered. “You may have put the words in Satoru’s head, but I started choosing him all on my own, without your interference.” 

And then you began to back away, not yet willing to take your eyes off where the corpse of a man you once loved lay, absent of everything that had made him who he was. You solidified every detail—each tree, the dark grey of the stone, to the exact green of the grass—so that you could be resolute in your ability to recall the scene in front of you from memory in its most precise form. If you never again stepped foot into this tiny slice of misery and ruin, you wanted to be sure you could always remember the consequences of words said and unsaid. 

————————————————

In a dimly lit apartment high in the sky, Gojo Satoru stood with his head turned towards his front door. Never once had he let go of his ability to always sense where you were in relation to him, and as he felt you drawing nearer to him, he wondered if anything would hurt as badly as knowing you hated him.

————————————————

Notes: I will maintain what I have said previously: it will get better! And probably in the next chapter because I hate angst, even when I'm writing it. I don't know why I thought it would turn out different for me lol.

Writer's block hit hard with this chapter, so I'm hoping it won't stick around for the next one. If it does, please worry not! I will not abandon this, but the chapter may just take a little longer to come out.

Taglist: @paprikaquinn & @kafanizdakicokiyi

[amarilke]

Happy anniversary to this chapter of my life 🎂

Most artists share this kind of collage at the end or beginning of the year, but for me, the 16th of October is a really special date. In 2023, I was going through a very rough time and one year ago precisely, something clicked in me. I felt compelled to sit down at my desk, open a sketchbook and draw my very first Ladybug.

To this day, this simple sketch gives me hope. It's simple and imperfect, but it was the beginning of a wonderful journey for me. These characters have been bringing me a lot of comfort and, after sharing my drawings only with my twin and my partner for roughly 9 months, I decided I could try to give back to the fandom a tiny bit of what they did for me. The rest is Tumblr history, as they say (?).

One year after this sketch, I've met a lot of incredible people, I've laughed with them and cried at what they wrote, I've drawn things I never thought I would and I have a very precious folder on my laptop with comments, tags and precious interactions (it's called "SCREAMshots" because I would scream whenever reading even the tiniest "cute" in a reblog — still do).

So, thank you Thomas Astruc for creating this wonderful world. Thank you, twin and partner, for supporting me and encouraging me in this. Thank you, Miraculous fandom, for existing and bringing me joy, peace of mind, and friendships. And thank the little click that made me sit down and start doing something I hadn't done in over ten years: drawing for myself. I hopefully will never stop again.

As always, disclaimer: I’m sharing my art as fan work, with no commercial use or agenda. All credits for Miraculous’ characters go to the original creators and trademark owners.

[slutouttanowhere]

pairing: Roman Reigns x Sabrina Richards

word count: 5k

a/n: not much to say here, Naomi, and Sabrina’s entrance song: My House by Beyonce, hope y’all enjoy, reblogs are much appreciated. Follow me for more ❤️

⏪ Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Adam Pearce is dead set on overworking me tonight, not only did I have an appearance with Seth, and Cody tonight, I’m booked for a tag match for the titles with Naomi. “Anyway like I was saying, the neon looks bomb on you girl.” Naomi beamed at me, when my pouty expression didn't change she started dancing, and playfully backed her booty up on me. “Don't leave me hanging now.” She said mid twerk, Naomi was determined to get a laugh out of me, and there’s no way you could deny her. 

“Fine.” I giggled, my hips began to sway to the music in my head, but then I slightly bent at the wait poking my booty out. Of course Naomi cheered me on, which drew the attention of others, and the next thing I knew Carmella, and Liv had danced their way over to our side of the hallway. Liv had pulled out her phone, and set it up on one of the unused crates. 

“Dance break!” Carmella shouted, soon my stress from earlier was forgotten for the moment. 

“She got that whoa there, hangman got that whoa there, don't act like you dont know.” I sang Beyonce’s lyrics, and Naomi posed in her best cowboy pose, which led to us all trying to follow suit, the four of us bursted out into laughter. The chatter had started up again, and I was in the middle of filming a tiktok with Naomi when Roman rolled by, this time only Solo by his side. Which was suspicious, but I decided to ignore it. 

“So…this is what you do with your free time, making tiktoks.” Roman’s judgmental tone came from behind me, I could see in the reflection of my camera his eyes were watching me. Looking me up and down like a starved wolf. My lips pressed together, I could feel my blood pressure rising from the way he’s nearly breathing down my neck, and when I looked over to Naomi she was standing with her arms folded. A small smirk on her lips, I may or may not have told her about the pending crush I had on The Tribal Chief, of course she was more than happy I was moving on from a past shitty relationship. I continued doing my dance as if he wasn't standing there, a bold move on my part, but I didn't even know what to say to him, or how to say it. The only time I had interactions with Roman was in direct relation to Cody and Seth, neither of them were here now. 

“Don't act like you dont hear me talking to you girl.” Roman raised his voice, then grabbed my arm, and turned me to him. I whipped around, and met him with a glare. I tried to pull my arm away, but he wouldn't let me go, he was taken aback by me putting up a fight. That only seems to excite him, the corners of his mouth turned upwards into a playful grin. 

“Oh pardon me my Tribal Chief, I’m just confused as to why the hell you’re bothering me?” I questioned him, my tone stale, and a forced smile on my lips.  I wasn't in a pleasant mood tonight, and I had a long list of reasons as to why, Roman being the top of that list. I could hear the girls quietly instigating behind us, and for a second his eyes flickered over my head to the peanut gallery behind us, and back to me. 

“So moody today? Is it because you're tired of dealing with those losers, I already told you how to solve that.” He teased, he laughed smugly, he leaned in closer to me. The butterflies in the pit of my stomach fluttering vigorously, the scent of his expensive cologne invading my senses made it hard for me to think.

“What I’m tired of is you acting like you’re not scared.” I looked him up and down, I noticed his hair was not tied back in his trademark tight bun, but instead, fell down around his shoulders framing his face. His hair was curlier then how he usually kept it, I preferred it that way, but I knew he liked to keep it out of his face when he’s in the ring. 

He scoffed, “Scared? Of those clowns? The failure, and his dancing jester?” 

“Roman, everybody knows what you’re scared of babe…irrelevance. And all of it is in that undisputed title, when it’s gone, who are you then? Just, Roman Reigns.” I thought I was being funny, but it seems I bit back at him more than I intended. My logic turned off, and my mouth started running without thought; his tongue slowly glided across his lips, and his eyes looked up to the ceiling. He mumbled something inaudible to himself before his gaze found mine again, he scowled at me

“How many times have I told you to address me as ‘My Tribal Chief,’ Sabrina?” His voice now deep, and gruff. He sighed heavily, shaking his head, his grip on me loosened temporarily, and that’s when I remembered he was still holding on to me. Our proximity caused the butterflies in the pit of my stomach to swirl violently, and send a shiver down my spine. I had pressed his ego in front of other people, and now I would pay for it. “Looks like I’ll have to teach you a lesson for being a bad girl.” My heart pounded in my ears, nervous as to what the hell he meant by that, surely he wouldn’t put his hands on me in a violent way? 

“Naomi, Sabrina, you guys have ten minutes to head to gorilla.” An official had walked up to our group, their eyes lingered on Roman’s grip on me, reluctantly let me go. Naomi then pulled me by the shoulder, and dragged me off in the opposite direction. I looked over my shoulder, sure enough his eyes were watching me. I whipped back around, and tried to focus on putting one foot in front of the other. 

“Girl…” Naomi trailed off, we stood behind the curtain, Hunter sat behind the monitors watching the show. He gave us a wave, but barely took his eyes off the small screens. 

“I know.” I sighed, she knew better than anyone the burden I shouldered with this drama, but she also knew how stubborn I can be when it comes to getting what I want, and executing the plan on my terms.

“Let’s not think about that right now, instead, lets focus on whooping Sonya, and Shayna’s ass’. After they jumped us last week, they gone feel this glow. Ya feel me?” Naomi and I slapped hands hitting our hand shake, then bumped hips, I couldn't help the giggle that came from me. 

“I’m so glad you're my partner.” I pulled her into a hug wrapping my arms around her waist, her long toned arms going around the back of my neck, when we heard DIY’s music hit signaling their win we knew we would be up soon. 

“You know I got your back B.” She hugged me tighter, then we ran through our warm ups, and some stretches while we waited. Hunter notified us that after the commercial break we were out first, soon they hit our music, and out we went. The lights in the arena went out, and the stadium nearly exploded from the roar of the fans, my skin prickled with goose bumps from the loud pop we received for us tonight. It felt so good to know my home town still showed up for me when we came around. 

“WHO THEY CAME TO SEE? ME. WHO REP IT LIKE ME DON'T MAKE ME GET UP OUT MY SEAT. UH OHHH” Our music blasted through the arena, Naomi and I danced down to the ring, our glow in the dark, neon gear the brightest thing in the arena besides the titan tron behind us. This was the best part of my night, having fun with Naomi, she's such a breath of fresh air. “No sauce or nothing.” Naomi mumbled to me shaking her head as we watched  Shayna and Soyna walk down to the ring, they  didn't really do fancy entrances. They’d rather get straight to the fight, that’s fine by me, the faster I can beat their ass the faster I can get back to Cody and Seth. Shayna and I started things off, immediately she tried to get me into a sleeper hold. I was quick to power out of it bucking my hips back into her pelvis, I could hear her grunting, but she held on to me. It was becoming difficult for me to breathe, I knew I couldn't give up just yet, a contender's spot was on the line. Naomi amped up the crowd stomping her foot on the apron, “GLOW, GLOW, GLOW!” She shouted, I bucked my hips back into her a second time, and then a third time till Shayna stumbled backward. She landed on her butt roughly, I could hear the crowd cringe, but I didn't let that distract me. She struggled to her feet, but I kicked at her shoulder, then switched back and forth giving her a barrage of kicks to both shoulders. She stumbled on her feet, quickly I hopped up to the top turnbuckle, Naomi slapped my thigh thus tagging herself in, and I ended my move with a missile dropkick to Shayna’s chest. 

Naomi flawlessly hops up onto the top turnbuckle, and into a splash frog, into a pin. Shayna was slow to kick out, nevertheless, Naomi moved to the next thing, and brought Shayna up to her feet. Before Naomi had the chance to do anything, Shayna popped up, and clocked Naomi right across the face. “C’mon Naomi wake it up girl!” I shouted and clapped my hands at her, she didn't have much time to recover, Shayna took Naomi’s confusion as an opening to lock her in the sleeper hold. This time she didn't make the same mistake she made with me, Shayna then wrapped her legs around Naomi’s waist so she wouldn't be able to shake her off like I did. She was trying to fight it off, but she was fading. I was stomping the apron so damn hard one would think I might break it off the bone, but in all my efforts it was working. “Fuck it.” Led by passion to get my hands on those titles, I couldn't let us go out like this, the referee was too slow to stop me. I got in between the ropes, and popped Shayna on the back of the neck with an enziguri kick. She immediately dropped to the ground with Naomi, as I was trying to untangle them, Sonya had shoved me, without hesitation she climbed on top of me. Her fists attacked me, while she was doing that, she didn't see how I reached out, and slapped Naomi’s hand.

Naomi finally stumbled up, and dragged Shayna’s body out the ring. While Sonya was busy flexing to the crowd, I ran up to her, hooked my arm around the back of her neck then planted her face first into the mat landing a bulldog. The crowd was in a frenzy, cheering, and shouting for Naomi and I. While she’s laying there trying to recover, I climbed to the top rope, I steadied my feet before flipping off the top turnbuckle into my finisher StarGazer. I landed right on top of Sonya. I went for the cover, and she kicked out. I didn't bother waiting for her to recover. I stood up, then stomped both my feet into her gut off the top turnbuckle, then I grabbed her by her legs, and flipped her over locking in the Sharpshooter. Shayna had tried to get in to break my hold, but Naomi’s long legs kicked her on the side her head, thus knocking Shayna out. Sonya screamed, scratched, and clawed. Anything to get out of my grasp, little did she know I hadn't even sat all my weight down on her, until I could feel her dragging me towards the ropes. I dragged her back to the center, and sat all the way down on her lower spine applying more pressure. 

She wasn't able to take the pain to her back any longer, and ultimately ended up tapping out. The bell rang, Naomi climbed back into the ring, and they hit our music. We wrapped our arms around each other, hugging each other tightly, and excitedly jumping up, and down. After our celebratory dance, we made our way up the ramp, and to the back. “Damn we were on fire tonight!” Naomi beamed, we slapped hands, and bumped hips. I was really proud of how far we’ve been making it since teaming up together, the future's looking bright for us. We walked back to the locker room with our arms linked chatting about what we were gonna be doing tonight after the show. After a quick shower, I had the makeup team apply my makeup this time. Tonight for Miz TV, Seth wanted to wear black, and red. To what his outfit was going to be I wasn't sure, but he said his shoes were going to be a surprise. Cody wasn’t into fashion much, he usually left the flashiness up to Seth and I. My appearance with the boys was revealed to me the day before, so unfortunately I had zero red items in  my suitcase. After an impromptu trip to the mall, I was able to throw something together that would appease Seth, but also match his color scheme of the night.

“Alright Sabrina, all done.” Laure, my makeup artist, held a mirror up to my face. It was perfect as I expected, and just as swift. I gave her a quick hug, thanked her for her life saving work, and went about my business. While I was on my way to find Seth and Cody I bumped into them. “Oh hey, I was just about to come and find you guys.” Cody, who’s deadpan facial expression let me know all I needed to know about how he felt about his outfit. He was dressed nicely in his usual three piece suit, when my eyes landed on his dark red tie, and a dark red vest to watch. Then I looked at Seth who was of course grinning from ear to ear; it appeared he was wearing all black, “look down Sabrina, check out my awesome dancing shoes, ha haaa.” He laughed, he took a step back for me to see his whole outfit: red sunglasses, black puffer jacket, and black puffer pants to match with a black fishnet top. My eyes continued to travel down to see these big, bright, red boots. I was shocked, though I wasn't sure whether I liked them or not. I shrugged feeling impartial, “all I know is, you’re probably the only person that could pull them off the way that you are.” 

“Yeahhh, we look like money, baby.” Seth cackled, then he turned to Cody, and wrapped an arm around his neck. “Lighten up man, have some fun for once.” Seth tried to coax a smile out of Cody, but we all knew how stubborn he could be. That didn’t stop Seth from trying, but when they played our music grinned mischievously. “Ohhh that’s our cue.” Seth pushed me ahead of them so that I would step out first, the crowd roared to life, and as if it couldn’t get any louder, when Cody and Seth came out after me the noise level was deafening. This seemed to have brought a small smile to Cody’s lips, I bumped my shoulder into his, and we linked our arms together. Miz was already waiting in the ring, his show all set up with three chairs for us, and mics waiting. Seth held the ropes open for me, and I was thankful that I wore sneakers tonight. 

The crowd was buzzing with energy, I couldn’t help but stand in the middle of the ring to soak it all in. A sensation of excitement coursed through me, they started to sing Seth’s song, which brought Seth out of his seat. “You sound beautiful Cali, absolutely gorgeous!” I shouted, though I could barely hear myself over them, my skin prickled with goosebumps underneath my fur jacket.

Cody brought the mic to his lips, his eyes swept across the arena, and landed on Miz. Who sat patiently letting us have our moment, he to wore a smirk on his lips; he’s been the one stirring the pot between us and The Bloodline this whole time. Anything for views. 

“So…Miz, Cali, what do ya wanna talk about?” He asked, the corners of his lips curling into a small grin, Seth finally took his seat on the other side of me. His large red boots in my peripheral vision, despite them being an eyesore, I happened to catch something else. In the crowd, back in the third row behind commentary there was a person just sitting there with a hood on. I couldn’t really see their face from the way they angled their head downwards, a chilling sensation went through me. 

I tried to ignore it, and I thought I was doing a good job at it till Seth elbowed me. “C’mon boss, look alive! We are in your home state San Diego, California after all!” He shouted, drawing the attention away from my stoic moment, but I couldn’t help but feel uneasy. 

“Uh, sorry, I was distracted by Seth’s bright ass boots.” I joked, Miz looked at me a bit worried at first, but like a professional he carried on as well. 

“How do you guys expect to defeat the Bloodline? The tag titles are on Jimmy and Jey Uso right now. While Seth and Cody are amazing competitors individually, things are a bit shaky as a tag team.” Miz spoke honestly, all eyes turned to me, and I honestly wasn’t sure how to answer that. 

“The Usos have been tag teaming together since the very beginning, they know no other way. On top of the fact that they’ve been tag champions for quite a while, and that is the exact reason they are going to lose those titles. See if it’s one thing I’m good at, it’s getting into the mind of my opponents, I mean I do have a Psychology degree after all.” I chuckled letting the crowd reply, but then I continued. “Jimmy and Jey have gotten way too comfortable where they are, complacent, and lazy. They think they’ve got it all in the bag, but come this weekend at Hell In A Cell, Cody and Seth are going stomp the fuck out of them.” I could hear Seth cackling behind me, the crowd began to sing Seth’s song. 

“And what happens if you’re unsuccessful?” He asked, he leaned in with a quizzical expression, a slight smirk on his lips as if he stumped me. 

I took a breath, tossing my hair over my shoulder, staring straight ahead at the audience, I said, “how’s that old saying go? There’s always a plan B.” There was a mixed reaction from the crowd, and I knew I had them eating out the palm of my hand then.

Miz was going to ask another question, but he was cut off by Roman’s music. I froze, my smile gone, and my heart pounding in my ears. It’s never a good thing when Roman shows up, with only Paul Heyman at his side, he holds onto Roman’s undisputed title tightly. The Ula Fala draped around his neck seemed to have caught the lights of the arena making it shine gloriously. His lips were moving, but we had no idea what he was saying. Cody stood from his chair, instantly on guard, he grabbed onto my wrist. 

“Roman, Roman, Roman….I just knew you couldn’t help but show your ugly face.” I said dryly, he always shows up at the worst moments, and I hated that for me. He slowly approached the ring, then hopped on the side of the apron where I stood. I took a step back accidentally bumping into Cody, I didn’t take my eyes off The Tribal Chief, nor did he take his eyes off me as he stepped into the ring. 

He held his hand out to Paul, without hesitation Paul placed a microphone in Roman’s waiting hand. “So now you’re a liar, because I know for a fact you don’t think my face is ugly baby girl.” He smiled smugly, his chocolate brown eyes looking me up and down, as observing me from head to toe. He lingered on my sneakers, then looked at Seth's boots, and then back to me. A humorous expression on his face, “with the exception of Sabrina, y’all look like some clowns.” The crowd didn’t like his insult at all, which only caused Roman to laugh harder. He casually leaned against the ropes, soaking up the hate, and loving every second of it. 

“What do you want Roman, you’re wasting our time.” I rolled my eyes trying to move things along, placed my hand on my hip, and switched my weight from one foot to the other. 

“I’m the WWE Undisputed Champion, your time is my time. Matter of fact, shit don’t shake around here unless I want it to. This is all mine, and I can do with it as I please.” He spread his arms out wide, he took his time making his point crystal clear.  “This ring? It’s mine, the cute little chairs y’all were just sitting in, it’s mine. Y’all in this sold out arena in San Diego because of me!” He didn’t stop there, Roman only knew how to take things too far. “This WWE universe, down to the bullshit they tweet online, is only ever relevant because my name is attached to it.” He turned towards the crowd, his eyes wide, and his fist beating his chest. “So…instead of bitching, you should be thanking me, it’s because of me, that you are the star that you became. All three of y’all.” He took a step closer to me, but Cody  stepped between us. 

“Cut the shit Roman.” Seth snapped at him, “I’m the one that put you in the Shield, I’m the one that set you on this Tribal Chief path in the first place!” He shouted from behind me, Roman’s eyes widened, enraged that Seth implied such a thing. 

“You didn't do a goddamn thing for me, but lie, you backstabbing bitch!” Roman growled out, hurt still evident in his voice, that was years ago at this point, but nothing felt worse than your family hurting you.

I threw the mic down at the chair, and put my hand on Cody’s shoulder. “Guys, let's not tonight okay?” I pleaded with them, they should be reserving their energy instead of fighting right now. Roman got under Cody’s skin with ease, no matter what came out of Romans mouth it got a reaction. 

“You keep holding on to the past, you're going to lose your future.” Cody closed the gap between them, he pointed to the golden title Paul Heymen held onto with dear life, and the crowd was so loud I could barely hear Roman’s words. Something along the lines of, “you keep running your mouth, you might lose a couple teeth.” 

“Cody–” I was cut off by Seth bumping into me, which caused me to bump into Cody, and he bumped Roman. That was all the excuse Roman needed to push Cody back and punch him square in the jaw. 

“Shit.” I cursed, the sound of shouting, and grunting came from behind me. Jimmy and Jey were both beating Seth outside the ring. I went to climb out the ring, but two large hands grabbed me by the arms, and spun me around. 

Romans hands grasped my shoulders, his eyes dark, and shining with malice. “I told you! I told you there would be consequences, look at what you caused, look at what you made me do!” A chill ran down my spine, I tried to pull away from him, but his grip only tightened. He brought me closer, then spun me in his arms so that I could watch as Jimmy and Jey rolled Seth back into the ring. The hooded man I saw earlier hopped the barricade, then revealed himself. Solo Sikoa, I should have known. 

He stalked over to Cody in the corner who was very much out of it, “don’t do this.” I mumbled, I was in disbelief that this was happening, I knew Solo was out there, but I let myself get distracted as usual. There was so much chaos going on all at once, I didn't know where to look next, Cody, and Solo were closest to me. He stomped at Cody’s hands, and any body part he could get to.

“Don’t look away, watch them, watch the destruction; this is what needed to happen. You need to see that these two bozos are not worth it, Seth was never worth it.” He whispered in my ear for only me to hear, I didn’t take my eyes off Solo when he set Cody up in the corner, ripped his suit open, and chopped him across his chest until Cody fell back down to the mat. It didn’t stop there, “and when you finish that one, this one is next!” Roman shouted, his arms tightened around my waist, and stomach. His hands felt hot on my skin, his nails dug into my flesh reminding me of how he was in control of this situation. 

Solo set Cody up again, this time he held his thumb up high, and brought it down onto Cody’s throat with a powerful torque behind it. He slid down in the corner, groaning in pain, Solo wasted no time turning to Seth, and as much squirmed around he just couldn’t get free. Solo’s thumb went up, and when it came down, I wholeheartedly believed that one was personal. Roman held onto my wrist with an iron grip as he pulled me out of the ring, “stop fighting me!” He growled out. I rolled underneath the bottom rope, Jimmy, Jey, and Solo following suit. Paul Heyman was already close by Romans side, a sickening smirk on his lips. 

“Step ya game up fuck boy!” Roman laughed into a mic, Seth wobbled to his feet, a look of confusion and hurt in his eyes as he watched Roman retreat with me. He tugged me along up the ramp, and into the back. No one said anything, he had that much pull. I passed Naomi on the way back, she gave an apologetic look, but I remained quiet. I felt like we had been walking forever till we reached a door with a sign that read,‘Tribal Chief Roman Reigns,’ indicating their private locker room. It was a nice set up, better than Seth and Cody’s I knew that much. A dark brown conference table centered the room, a nice layout of fruits, vegetables, cheese, meat, and crackers on a table off to the side near a mini fridge. A tan colored sofa on the other side near large ceiling to floor windows overlooking San Diego. I walked over to the windows, it was a long night, and all I wanted more than anything was to sleep. My phone wouldn't stop buzzing, scrolling through my notifications I saw they were mostly Seth and Cody blowing my line up. Then an endless stream of tweets about what everyone just witnessed, I bit my lip trying to stifle the giggle that pressed against my lips. I exhaled, then tucked my phone back in my jeans. 

“Alright Uce, we got a match in a little bit.” Jey informed Roman, I always found their dynamic interesting. If Roman had a favorite twin, I put all my money on it being Jey. I’m not totally surprised, Jey is a sweetheart, and more reserved, the complete opposite of Jimmy, who’s always trying to get a laugh out of their cousin.

“Go…take Solo with you, knowing those clowns they’ll be tripping over each other to get back at us for what just happened.” He sighed, Jinny tried to slap hands with Roman, but was met with an annoyed expression. 

Jimmy slapped his own hand, smiling sheepishly, “yeet.” Solo stared at his brothers, a disappointed stare in his eyes, wordlessly he exited first, Jey clapped Jimmy on the shoulder then followed behind their baby brother. “Damn, y’all wait for me!” Jinny called after his brothers. 

I shook my head, My gaze landed on Paul who was watching me with curious eyes. I lifted an eyebrow at him, but neither of us said anything. 

“Ah, my Tribal Chief.” Paul called to Roman as if he just remembered something.

“Yes?” Roman turned to the wiseman, a small smile on his lips, and his shoulders more relaxed in comparison to earlier. 

“I have a few business calls to make, may I be excused?” He asked ever so politely, I had to repress the urge from rolling my eyes. As sensitive as Paul is, the incoming revelation will shock him the most I’m sure of it. 

“Of course, take your time, actually if I need you I’ll give you a call.” He patted Paul on the shoulder with his free hand, Paul turned and gave me one last look, his stare lingering longer than it should have. Roman stepped into his line of sight blocking his view of me. 

Paul bowed respectfully, “My Tribal Chief.” Then he left, leaving just Roman and I. He slowly turned to me, our grins grew simultaneously, I skipped over to him, and threw my arms around his neck. 

“When I met you all those years ago…I never thought you were an evil genius.” Roman chuckled, then kissed me on the nose causing me to let out a giggle, then pressed my lips to his. 

“All pretty girls are secretly evil.” I laughed, I took him by the hand, and led him over to the sofa. He brought me into his lap, “and then when we finally reveal it all to them, Cody and Seth will crumble.” My hands caressed Romans face, I loved how his eyes softened when he looked at me, and now that we finally had alone time I could stare at him as long as I wanted uninterrupted. 

“Seth is an idiot.” He mumbled between kisses, his face buried in my cleavage, he inhaled my scent, then let out a growl. His hand slid up my thigh to my waist trying to feel any exposed skin he could. All that pent up energy from not being able to touch each other for so long was starting to unravel. 

“Mmm we should save it for later, we’ve got a whole weekend after all.” I moaned out, Roman swept my hair behind my shoulder, then trailing sloppy kisses up my neck to my cheek. His large hand gripping my breast nearly ripping the flimsily lace top. 

“Ugh, you’re right.” He looked down at his watch, the show was pretty much over at this point, and Jimmy, Jey, and Solo were traveling together. I grabbed him by his beard, kissed him softly one last time before getting up, and crossed the room to nibble on the plate of food Roman had. A knock came from the opposite of the door ruining my current mood, nevertheless, Roman opened the door to reveal Paul Heyman on the other side. 

“Everything is set to go for your time off, is there anything else you need from me my chief?” Paul asked. 

“Nah, I’ve got it all handled from here wiseman, let’s get goin, the sooner we’re on the jet the better.” Roman reassured him, then Roman grabbed me by the arm, and pushed me ahead of him. 

Paul gave us a perplexed look, “um, my Tribal Chief…she’s coming with us?” 

“Are you questioning my methods?” Roman paused, turning to the wiseman, his tone gave no room for argument, and Paul was keen on that. 

“Oh absolutely not.” He responded without hesitation, his eyes darted to me, but my eyes were on Roman. If the direction of things were changing, I would wait for his signal; I suggested he let Paul in on the plan Roman wanted this as close to the chest as possible. 

“Good.” Roman pushed me gently forward, “walk.” He ordered me, I did as told, turning with my head down to hide the smirk forming on my lips. 

After we finally made it onto the Jet, Roman took a seat directly across from me, and Paul took a seat towards the back. I placed my hands on the table, he reached for me, his fingers caressing my skin. Letting my head fall back, and closing my eyes, I finally relaxed enough to fall asleep. The days to follow are gonna be nothing but sunny skies and beaches. 

[lurkingteapot]

Kidnap the Novel ch. 4: Trademark Owner

Chapter 4 brings the h&c, and more gang together time.

There's a LOT of introspection going on here -- I'm curious to see what on the screen led to infer this. :D

Chapter summary under the cut as per usual, misunderstandings absolutely likely.

Min is in a state of constant near-panic for days after he and Q send a letter with Q's necklace and a ransom note to Kachaa. The note contains three conditions "for Q's continued safety": first, that Kachaa not involve the police or media; second, that he withdraw from the case; third, that he pay a ransom of one million baht (which Min had protested but Q insisted was necessary to make it look real). A week goes by and there's no reaction whatsoever. Min is relieved, but Q is despondent. Min tries to cheer him up, first suggesting he (Min) could call Kachaa and threaten him, then, when Q brushes that off, that Q glove up and go hit a punching bag for a bit. Q takes the gloves Min offers, but punches Min in the arm instead. Min goes along with it and plays up the damage when he realises Q seems happier. (He also thinks his clothes look more expensive when they're on Q, but that's neither here nor there). Men watches them and thinks he's never seen Min act like this around anyone else before – Min hovered around Men for days after they got back from meeting with James, to the extent that he wouldn't even let Q drink by himself. Men is convinced Min is either already in love or about to fall.

Min, Men, and Q go to the hospital for Men's final check-up. Everything's fine. Min is so relieved he cries. He then makes to leave for work "at the restaurant". When Men asks him whether he'll be doing any stuntwork again because Men loves to watch his films, Min deflects.

Q watches Min and Men interact and is half impressed, half wistful about how they're each other's whole world. He envies them: he's sure that in a time of need, Men wouldn't even think to call for anyone but Min; Q himself remembers just too well that he called for "anyone at all". He offers to look after Men while Min is at work, but Min laughs him off. Khanomjeen arrives and says she'll look after Men. Q is annoyed; he feels Min treats him like a child and he hates it.

Khanomjeen wants to watch one of Min's shows. Men isn't enthused, which strikes Q as curious as Men just told Min he loved his work. They settle down to watch anyway. Q is sceptical how they even know it's Min -- it's a motorcycle stunt, the rider is wearing a helmet with face shield. Khanomjeen gives him a rundown of how she can tell. Men is disgruntled. Q realises he hasn't actually paid much attention to Min's appearance before.

When Khanomjeen goes to make popcorn, Q asks Men what his problem is. When Men sulks that Khanomjeen never pays attention to him the way she does to Min, Q asks whether he likes Khanomjeen. Men denies it, but blushes scarlet. Q presses on: has he ever even tried to hit on her? Men deflects: how would he even do that? she likes Min so much, the only thing Men might measure up on is that they look similar because they're related. Q has a think and an idea: if Khanomjeen thinks Min looks cool on a motorcycle, maybe …

He makes Men nab one of Min's jackets and his helmet and takes Khanomjeen and Men to a quiet sideroad and he and Khanomjeen proceed to teach Men how to ride Khanomjeen's motorcycle. Men is excited, Khanomjeen is unenthused and worried they'll get in trouble with Min. Q waves her off: they're not doing anything bad or wrong.

Q proceeds to teach Men how to ride the bike. They go about it very slowly and carefully to make sure Men doesn't hurt himself. Once Men has gained some confidence, Q asks to ride on the back for a bit "so Men can get used to that", and once that works, he asks Jeen to take his spot "so he can take a clip of Men on the bike with someone in the back to show Min". Khanomjeen agrees on the condition that they go home once he's taken the video.

It starts to rain heavily as soon as they're done with the clip. The three of them run under a bridge and wait there, but after an hour, it's clear it's not going to stop soon. Q volunteers to run and get rain ponchos, leaving Khanomjeen and Men by themselves. Men asks Khanomjeen whether she thought he looked cool on the bike. She says sure, he presses on: as cool as Min, or not quite yet? Khanomjeen looks at him and they have a bit of a moment. She then tells Men "no", but something has clearly changed, and Men also realises. Q, who ran back with raincoats but realised they were having a moment, hangs back to give them a little time to themselves.

When they get back to the house, Min is there and pissed. Where did they go? Q tries to placate him but Min just gets more upset: doesn't Q know Men is sick, what did he think, taking him out to do something dangerous, and in the rain as well! What if something had happened! Khanomjeen tries to mediate and Min rounds on her, which in turn makes Men mad. He accuses Min of wanting Men locked up in the house forever and not seeing Men as a person, then stomps upstairs to his room. Q argues with Min, Min tells him Q can only argue like that because he never cared for anyone in his life.

Once Min has calmed down, he goes to talk to Men, but gets no answer through the door. Then, there's a thud like a body hitting the floor. Min panics and breaks down the door. He finds Men collapsed, feverish and barely conscious. His frantic tone alerts Q, who comes upstairs and goes numb at the sight that greets him. Min tells him to call an ambulance.

At the hospital, Q tries to apologise to Min – he really does feel bad about what happened, and feels responsible, too. Min tells him to leave him the fuck alone, which really gets to Q.

Men regains consciousness. Khanomjeen, who joined them, and Min go into the room, but Q hovers outside, unsure of his welcome. The doctor explains Men just caught a cold and his heart is perfectly fine, it's just that he's still weakened overall, which is why he caught a fever. Min relaxes. Men, still a little fuzzy around the edges, also tells Min he's fine. Min apologises to Men and Khanomjeen. Men tells Min he had a really good day and was really happy today, and that he'd've been fine if not for the rain, and Min doesn't argue. The room feels more relaxed. Khanomjeen is eager to corroborate Men's account and shows Min the clip of her and Men on the motorcycle. Min can tell that Men looks incredibly happy. Towards the end of the clip, Q turned the camera on himself and addresses Min: "I wanted to show you how much cooler than you your brother is"

Men stresses how Q was the one who made a day that made him that happy possible, and tells Min to apologise to Q as well. Min brushes him off -- they're both adults, these things don't need saying --, but Men can tell he's affected.

Q is quiet the entire ride home, staring out the window and not talking. Min telling him to leave him the fuck alone still echoes in his ear. When they get home, he goes upstairs immediately. Min feels odd; he feels like it'd've been easier if Q got mad at him. Men walks up and slaps Min's shoulder: weren't they both adults and these things didn't need saying? before he, too, goes upstairs to his room.

When Min gets to his own room, the bedside lamp is the only light on. Q is lying on the edge of the bed. Min walks up to him and tells him he saw the clip and that Men really did look happy. Q doesn't react. When Min looks more closely, he can tell that Q is red in the face, not looking so good, and radiating heat. Min instantly goes into caregiver mode and makes to go get Q medicine, but Q tugs at his arm and stops him. Min is startled to see Q is on the verge of tears. Q tries to apologise to Min. He looks miserable. Min tells him he's not angry anymore. Q asks after Men, and Min tells him Men's fine and Q should worry about himself, first. He gently plucks Q's hand off his arm and puts it down on the bed next to Q, but doesn't let go yet, stroking the back of Q's hand with his thumb. He tells Q again that he's no longer angry and goes to get medicine, a flannel, and water.

Min is very aware that he's aware of Q's naked skin while he's spongebathing him, and tries very very hard to keep everything perfunctory. This isn't made easier by Q squirming, trying to avoid the cool water. When they're done, Min helps Q put on the very shirt Q had grabbed that first night that Min then hadn't let him wear. Q notices. Min tells him it's alright, it's a warm shirt, it'll help him get better soon, and that he won't tie their arms this night.

When Min lies down, Q still looks cold despite the covers. Min lies close and sort of half-hugs him. Q opens his eyes, they kind of stare at each other in silence for a while. Min wants to apologise, but Q beats him to it, but Min tells him he's not angry anymore and went too far earlier. He realises he would not know what to do if he made Q cry for real. They talk. Min thanks Q for making Men so happy that day and that he hasn't ever achieved that look on Men himself. Q tells him Men just wants to be like Min. Min doesn't believe him, Q insists and tells him Men's well aware that Min does what he does for Men's sake, and that Q thinks Min's a great older brother. Min tears up. Q tells him he really has no chill when it comes to Men.

Min tells him he has no-one else -- he's cared for Men since he was seventeen years old (and Men was eleven), he didn't even know how to cook rice at first and could only act on guesswork and instinct, always within the framework of "will this be good for Men". Telling Q this is kind of cathartic for Min -- he's never had anyone care, nobody ever asked, but Q asked, and listens, and Min is suddenly confronted with just how lonely he was and how hard this has been. He tells Q he is really afraid he'll ruin Men's life, that he's doing the wrong thing. Q tells him, feverishly but quite seriously, that he feels like if he had anyone who loved him the way Min loves Men, he'd never want for anything else. Min thinks about it and feels his face heat. Q misreads the flush, tells Min to take some medicine, too, and moves to feel Min's forehead. Min tells him to stop talking and go to sleep. Q's eyes are at a height with Min's neck, and he spots the mole Khanomjeen listed when she was talking about how she could tell it was Min in the movie earlier. He falls asleep smiling.

There's not a lot of space on the bed with the way Q is lying, so Min ends up apologising and kind of wrapping himself around Q in order not to fall off, and Q, whether consciously or not, rests his head against Min's chest and hugs him back. Min kind of freezes and doesn't dare move at first, but in the end he moves his free arm to pet Q's hair. He's a mess of feelings he's not quite ready to confront, but he wishes he could hold Q and be held by him like this every night.

The next morning, Min gets up early to make khaao dtom. He's filling a bowl in the kitchen while Men is in the living room, watching TV, when Khanomjeen comes by and is surprised Min isn't at work. Min says he has sick kids at home and asked for the day off. Before she can say anything, Q comes downstairs, still wearing the Min's Golden-Retriever-in-Wolf-hat shirt, and asks what smells so good. He's still a little loopy with fever and rumpled from sleep and looks very cute as he goes to stand next to Min and peer into the pot. Min involuntarily grins, smoothes Q's hair down and tells him to have food and medicine. His tone is so gentle it borders on sweet. Q is loopy and doesn't notice, and neither does Min himself, but Men and Jeen sure do. Men also notices that Q is wearing the shirt he gifted Min and comments on how Min wouldn't let anyone else wear that before. Min blusters and tries to deflect that he doesn't have a lot of warm shirts. Men pretends to accept that answer -- he doesn't really want to tease Min when Min looks like he's about to scoop Q up and carry him where he needs to go. Khanomjeen asks whether that means they're all gonna stay in together that day, and when Min confirms, she and Men call a movie night ("'night' my ass" is Q's comment on that with a look out the window).

Men and Min go gather blankets, pillows, and stuffed toys for the sofa while Khanomjeen and Q prepare snacks and soft drinks. Khanomjeen asks whether he and Min are good now, Q says yes. Khanomjeen then tells Q not to worry too much about it because Min is a person who worries too much about the people he loves, to the point where he sometimes overdoes it, but he doesn't mean to hurt anyone … so she'd kind of like Min to get mad at her in that over-the-top way, because she'd like to know what it's like to be loved by him.

Q deflects teasingly: what about Men?

Khanomjeen seems to lose her composure a little and only says they'll see, but she blushes as she tells him we'll see.

When they're watching the movie, Min unconsciously stretches out his arm to lie on the sofa behind Q, who's hugging the stuffed toy dog, almost like he's putting his arm around his shoulders, and Q leans into it with an air of familiarity. On the screen, Min appears, and Min remembers a gun is about to go off, so he quickly covers Q's ears. When the scene is past, he tells them there won't be any more shots fired in the movie, very matter-of-factly, like looking after others like this was the most normal thing in the world. Q remembers what Khanomjeen said and thinks to himself that she's right -- Min kind of reminds him of a huge dog who loves his owners. He can't keep that to himself, so he teases Min: "You're the actual golden retriever dressed as a wolf here … good boy."

His intention is to tease, but Min just feels praised because Q looks pretty happy about it.

[misskittyhart]

Chapter 5:

Hell’s Bells and Shot Gun Shells

Warning: violence/ death/ talk of abuse

Kitty felt the sun on her skin. She felt sleep drunk as she stirred last. Her mind felt fuzzy. What happened last night? It all seemed like a blur right now. She vaguely remembered the nights events, from the killing to the…oh. Her face went scarlet.

Alastor smirked over at her watching as she came to reality from her sleep drunk haze. “Morning.” He said leaning in the door way of the bed room.

Kitty startled hearing his voice suddenly. “Morning…we…” she started.

He grinned at her “we did~” he seemed quite pleased with him self. Kitty flushed darker. She covered her face with her hands. “Oh don’t be so embarrassed~” he teased her walking into the room, holding a cup of coffee. He took a sip and rustled her hair treating her like a child

She looked up at him seeing that damn smile on his face. It was like she was tormenting her now. He leaned down and kissed her forehead lightly. His sudden tenderness made her feel conflicted. This was the man grooming her to be a murderer. Taking her natural desire for bloodlust, and twisting it in his hand to suit his needs. Who she knew for a damn fact was manipulating her to his will. But right now she wanted to believe the lie he might actually like her.

“There’s more coffee and some breakfast in the kitchen if you so desire~” he said to her leaning up to his full height and looking down at her

Kitty moved slowly out of bed feeling, his gaze on her. It felt weird, but nice? She felt conflicted. Quietly she moved to get dressed. “I do need to go back to the city today, I have to preform tonight at 6.” She said dressing fully.

He hummed lightly “and here I thought I’d get to keep you to myself. Ah well, responsibility and all that.” He said waving his hand

Kitty smirked at him leaning her chin in the palm of her hand “you can always come listen to me, you know~”

His eyes seem to glimmer at that idea. His trademark grin split that handsome face. “Oh? You are right, I certainly could. I certainly will.” He leaned against the counter sipping his coffee.

This moment they shared was so different. Their interactions had been so dark and chaotic, before this. However right now he seemed so playful and gentle, like when they first met. Was it all a mask or was there some reality to this?

They spent most of the day this way, just getting to know each other better. Kitty spilled her guts about what drove her to snap and begin a murder spree. Leaning against the couch, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her dress.

“I just….” She started gaze cast down, “my parents died in a car crash when I was a teenager. My old money grandparents took me in. It was awful they were not very kind to me. As soon as they could they pushed me into an arranged marriage with another man, for an increase to their wealth. I suppose my life was worth little more than a few thousand.” She laughed weakly.

Alastor’s smile faltered as she spoke. A quite rage eking into his heart.

“He was a vicious man. You saw the scars on my belly and back last night….those were his handy work. He would use broken alcohol bottles, cigarette ends, you name it.” She managed to look up at him. His eyes were full of blood lust and rage at her words. She placed her hand on his. “I’m sorry darling….I know it’s hard to hear but bare with me.”

Alastor squeezed her hand and brushed his thumb over her knuckle lightly.

“He would lock me in the basement for days, when he was really in a mood. I managed one night to crawl out of the basement window. I ran to freedom. I didn’t look back. I ended up here in New Orleans two years ago, far away from that old house in Mississippi.” She continued.

Alastor was a little stunned she was a runaway. He squeezed her hand firmly “you don’t have to be afraid. I won’t let him hurt you ever again.” His eyes burned into hers it was a vow.

Kitty leaned her face into his shoulder. “This cycle of abuse broke me somewhere deep inside. I saw a man beating a woman in an alleyway….and I just. Something snapped. I stabbed him to death and ran off. There was something so freeing about this act. As if I was getting revenge myself. It became and addiction. I used the jazz club to find more unsavory men, and began to pick them off carefully.”

Alastor listened to her story wicked delight in his big grin. She did similar to what he did. Protect the innocent, and clean the scum of society from the streets. After all rabid dogs must be put down~

They continued their conversation for awhile until it was time to bring her back to the city. Alastor drove silent for awhile just thinking through everything. His eyes drifted to her. She was looking out the window quietly, seemingly lost in thought. He smirked. What a wonderful creature he happened upon. He seemed pleased with how this relationship was progressing.

“Kitty~” he said breaking the silence. She jolted out of her thoughts, turning her head to look at him. He grinned at her. “I have to say….it’s been a thrilling time getting to know you, I’d love to see you more frequently.”

Kitty thought about it and smiled lightly “I’d like that.” She said softly. She hadn’t been sure of Alastor, and there was such weird mystery surrounding him. However she felt inclined to get to see just who he really was. Especially with how kind he had been recently.

He smirked in reply and focused on the road. Before long they pulled up to the Silver Magnolia in the French Quarter. He parked and came around to assist her out of the car. She took his hand as he helped her stand. She smiled lightly at him for the gesture. He was a gentleman despite his wild nature that lay beneath that mask of southern charm.

He was content to grab a drink and stay and watch her preform tonight. He had nothing else happening, and was always delighted watching her preform. Not to mention he could make sure she wasn’t harassed. It infuriated him how many men would flock to her; and touch her. How dare they touch her. His eyes narrowed at the thought. After all she was his. Especially after last night, he had laid his claim upon her.

Kitty was in her dressing room getting ready for the show while Alastor was nursing a whiskey and glaring at the men that sauntered about. He had committed to memory the ones he deemed as problems. His mind making note to handle them if they step out of line.

It was show time before long. Kitty came out on stage and had the crowd on pins and needles. It never got old to Alastor. He was always enthralled watching her with grace and pride commanding that stage. He rest his chin on his hand and watched her dance and sing. She always looked the happiest up there. He wanted that happiness for his own. How could he steal away that happiness just for him to see and no one else? He sipped his whiskey.

How could he get her heart? He already had began to twist what was left of her broken mind, bending her to his will to continue down her dark path, of vengeance. However he was not sated. He wanted more. He wanted to devour every inch of that little vixen. His eyes narrowed and he grinned. He wanted to possess her.

The band roared into the night as kitty finished her set. It was time to go get changed and clean up before meeting with Alastor. A man had followed her. He entered her dressing room behind her and confront her.

Kitty felt cornered and a little panicked the man cornering her against the wall of her dressing room. “I am tired of asking!” He yelled aggressively at her, “I will not take no for an answer again!” He growled.

Kitty glared up at him feeling small but the fire was still burning in her eyes. “I will never marry you!” She retorted. It was a wealthy industrialist named Marc Jacobson. He had been harassing her for months to become his wife. Kitty refused to be crammed back into another man’s cage, especially now that she had tasted freedom.

He struck her swiftly. His hand smacking her across the face so hard she tasted blood in her mouth. Had he been not at her work, she would have attacked him. It was an awful delicate situation as she needed to remain innocent.

Alastor had come back stage to meet her in her dressing room as it seemed she was taking awhile. Which annoyed him a little, he wanted to see her post haste. He heard the arguing as he came up on her door. Then the loud smack. His eyes flared with rage. Who dare lay a hand on his woman? He tried the door and found it locked. In a fit of rage he kicked the door inwards slamming it against the wall. His eyes were burning red seeing Kitty pinned against the wall with this pompous man looming over her.

When he saw the blood on her lip he lost all sense of self. He lunged at the man, grabbing him by his shirt and punching him so hard in the face it broke Marc’s nose. Crimson gushed down Marc’s face. He stumbled back hitting the floor. Alastor looked over Marc a look of sinister hatred burning in his eyes. His eyes had an eerie green glow to him as he snarled down at the man.

Marc looked up at him outraged holding his face with a bloody hand. He got to his feet and shoulder checked Alastor before heading out. Alastor glared after him. He would take care of that one tonight. He rushed to Kitty immediately. He held her face gently checking her over, he seemed worried.

“It’s fine….I’ve had worse” she chuckled sadly.

Alastor looked into her eyes gently cleaning the blood from her lip with his handkerchief. “I don’t care. How dare he hurt you. Was that the man you mentioned who’s been trying to get you to marry him?” He questioned

“Yes….that’s the one.” She sighed.

Alastor hummed softly. He brushed his thumb over the sore spot on her face, seemingly lost in thought. How did he want to kill this man? Probably set him loose into his hunting grounds, hunt him down and shoot him. He wanted him to feel the same fear of being pursued endlessly. A wicked smile spread across his face. “I’ll handle him, cher~” he leaned down taking her lips with his.

Kitty felt a lot safer now that Alastor was here. If he handled the problem it would take the heat off of her, and she would get the justice she craved. She smirked at him “oh you do so spoil me darling~” she sighed softly

Alastor grinned down at her, his thumb resting on her chin. “Oh it’s no problem my dear~”

They sat in her dressing room together for sometime. He held her gently letting her come down from the assault that had happened. He was being gentle with her c slowly running his fingers through her hair. After her awful abusive marriage, he imagined she wasn’t in a good headspace.

Kitty leaned into him lost in her own thoughts. She was feeling a lot more calm with his caring touches. They stayed like this for some time. Once she felt okay enough he decided tonight they would find this man, and have her lure him out to his cabin.

It seemed easy enough. She knew where he lived from being invited to a dinner party. Alastor hid in the back seat, in anticipation. A wicked glee on his face. Kitty would lie saying she thought it over and wanted to marry him after all. Then say she wanted to go somewhere private to have some intimacy

It was working splendidly. She had drugged the whiskey she gave him, so he was very out of it. Alastor waited in the back floor board eagerly. He was almost panting like a wild animal at the thought of taking that wretch’s life with his own hands tonight.

Marc was out of it, and it was very easy for Kitty to use her charms to manipulate him. Alastor felt pride swell in his chest for how wicked his little vixen was at using her wiles. If he wasn’t crazy about her already, he was now. He had to stifle a laugh. All of this was so amusing.

Kitty pulled up the the secluded cabin that belonged to Alastor. Marc stumbled out of the car and she was easy to lead him into the house. The plan was for Alastor to chase him out and into the woods where he would hunt him down like prey.

Alastor went around the back of the house and retrieved his shot gun. He loaded it and put extra ammo in his pockets, not that he was a bad shot, but just in case. His eyes glimmered with sick, twisted glee.

Kitty led Marc into the kitchen. Alastor came around the corner gun raised. A wild feral look in his eyes as he grinned at Marc. “You have to the count of ten to run.” Alastor laughed. Marc was drugged but could think enough that he ran past Alastor and out the open back door.

Alastor counted laughing hysterically as Marc stumbled tearing off into the woods. He looked over at Kitty, “sit tight darlin. I’ll handle this and be back soon~”

Then Alastor bottled out of the back door grinning. He was following the trail of broken branches and disturbed brush. He could hear Marc running ahead through the brush. The rustling drawing Alastor close to his heels. Marc was cursing and panting tryin to make it through the wood. Though in his drugged state it was difficult.

They made it into a clearing. Alastor was approaching him blood lust in his eyes. Marc began to plead as the shot gun was aimed at him. “I’ll never bother her again! I swear!” Marc begged hands raised as he backed away.

Alastor laughed cruelly, malice dripping in his voice, “you think it’s your god given right to lay hands on my girl!?” He was panting and grinning madly at Marc gun raised.

Marc backed up still, hands in front of him “please God no! I’m sorry!” He begged

A strange eerie green aura emanated about Alastor and the loud sound of radio static exploded into the air. His eyes glowed an eerie, sickly green. Strange dark powers forming around him. This would be one more sacrifice.

Alastor laughed loudly “I am no God! No mercy from the devil!” He cackled wickedly before firing a round. The shot gun rang out into the woods, echoing as the bullet tore through Marc. Crimson pooled around Marc’s chest, staining his suit. Alastor wasn’t satisfied, he reloaded and fired again. Marc stumbled back and fell onto the ground holding his chest.

Alastor loomed over him crushing his windpipe down with his boot. “We put down rabid animals” he grinned. The moonlight framed his figure as he held the shotgun point blank. He fired in between Marc’s eyes. Blood spraying his clothing and face. He laughed wildly head tossed back the moonlight glinting off his blood splatter glasses

[genshin-impact-updates]

New Story Unlocked - Archon Quest Chapter V: Act III and Act IV

The darkness of the Abyss draws near. People gaze into the rising smoke, as if gazing upon new possibilities.

This world needs heroes. It needs a miraculous light to shatter the silence of death.

After reaching the corresponding Adventure Rank and completing the prerequisite quests, Archon Quests Chapter V: Act III "Beyond the Smoke and Mirrors" and Chapter V: Act IV "The Rainbow Destined to Burn" will appear in the Quest Menu.

(After these quests are unlocked, access the Quest Menu by: pressing "J" on PC (default settings); tapping the Quest Menu icon in the top-left corner on mobile; or pressing and holding L1 on PS5™ or PS4™ to open the shortcut wheel and select the Quest Menu icon.)

〓Quest Start Time〓

After the Version 5.1 update, Archon Quests Chapter V: Act III "Beyond the Smoke and Mirrors" and Chapter V: Act IV "The Rainbow Destined to Burn" will be permanently available.

〓Archon Quest Chapter V: Act III "Beyond the Smoke and Mirrors" Unlock Criteria〓

• Reach Adventure Rank 28 or above

• Complete Archon Quest Chapter V: Act II "Black Stone Under a White Stone"

〓Archon Quest Chapter V: Act IV "The Rainbow Destined to Burn" Unlock Criteria〓

• Reach Adventure Rank 28 or above

• Complete Archon Quest Chapter V: Act III "Beyond the Smoke and Mirrors"

You can use the "Quick Start" function to accept and progress through Archon Quest Chapter V: Act I "Flowers Resplendent on the Sun-Scorched Sojourn" while maintaining your current progress in the existing Archon Quests. After using the "Quick Start" function to complete Archon Quest Chapter V: Act I, you can continue to accept and complete the subsequent Acts of Chapter V until you unlock the latest Archon Quest introduced in the current version update.

"PlayStation", "PS5", "PS4", "DualSense", "DUALSHOCK" are registered trademarks or trademarks of Sony Interactive Entertainment Inc.

[ohtobeleah]

Enterprise // Jake Seresin

Chapter One: Confidence.

Chapter Summary: There’s a lesson here somewhere, but you aren’t ready to figure it out. Setting up a meeting with Jake ‘The Hangman’ Seresin to see if he would consider a merger is the last thing you knew your late father would want you to do.

Warnings: Jake Seresin x F!reader. Mafia/Gang related themes. Sexual tension. Age Gap. Mentions of guns.

Word Count: 3.4K

Author Note: So, if you originally read this in the Dolan Twins fandom way back in the day—shut the fuck up no you did not. I will deny deny deny….. This series will be updated once a week on Sundays

Masterlist | Chapter One | Chapter Two |

The first time you met Jacob Seresin was at one of your fathers monthly meetings between himself and Jake's father. Carl ‘The Carver’ Seresin. He got his title from the carvings he’d leave on his enemies' faces. He’d slash them with a razor blade so deep that the scars left behind were undeniably noticeable and incredibly trademarkable. Meeting once a month became a common occurrence to make sure an all-out war didn’t ensue between the rival gangs. The Death Adders and the Katipo. Although bloodshed and violence were always an issue between members in the streets, as long as the two powerhouse men that ruled over all could remain on speaking terms, all was good in the city of Fitzroy.

You never attended your father's meetings with Carl Seresin and hoped you'd never have to, but the day you turned eighteen? Everything changed. You had already seen so much, been exposed to things out of this world unholy. The last thing you wanted to do was meet the man who caused your father so much strife, and his son. 

Jake though? He was always present, always standing right behind his father because he always knew that someday everything would be his. The day you arrived with your father he was completely shocked to see you in the study, sitting on the lounge all prim and proper like. The girl he’d heard so much about through his father was actually stunning, instantly having a soft spot for you the moment he saw you follow your father into the foyer when he was watching from the top floor of the staircase. You'd only briefly glanced up at him when you first arrived. Pretty white dress adorning your body, hair tucked back, neat and slick. 

“Hi.” Jake smiled as he held his hand out for you to shake before you quickly shot him a look of pure evil. “You lost sweetheart? This isn't normally a place where a pretty girl such as yourself would come willingly?” 

“Don’t try me.” You were quick to sneer. “I’ll kick your ass.” You knew what you and Jake were destined to be. Sworn rivals, enemies with common ground. There was no need for small talk, no need for niceties. 

“As if, a fucking girl dad?” Jake scoffed as the two men were settling into their chairs for the evening, both babysitting a glass of fine whiskey and watching their offspring interact for the first time. Keeping the two of you apart had been a part of their agreement, partly to keep you safeguarded until you were ready to start learning the ins and outs of your father's business. However, you'd already come to know more than enough throughout your childhood. “How the fuck are you meant to be my arch-rival?” Jake pulled at your hair, pulling you straight up from the lounge that you sat perched on quietly, Your father only scoffed, hoping you'd defend yourself against the man who was twelve years your senior. 

“Don’t!” You spat as you pulled yourself out of Jake's grip, He was a god damn adult and he was acting like a petulant child with a schoolyard crush. Your mother, prior to her passing, had always told you boys who teased were the ones with the biggest crushes, but this was just physical assault in your books. 

“Aw gonna cry to daddy are we?” Jake snickered before he pretended to cry as he whipped fake tears from his eyes just as your fist collided with his nose, sending blood rushing down around his mouth as he stumbled back in shock. Cupping his hand over his nose to catch the blood that poured out fast. 

“The fuck was that for!!”

“Don’t try me, Seresin you’ll only regret it” You hissed through gritted teeth as you walked over to stand behind your fathers chair who was smirking with delight that his little girl was a natural fighter, leaving a very much in pain Jake standing in the middle of the study. Completely dumbfounded. 

That was Jake Seresin's first encounter with the girl he’d chase after his entire life, his future wife. But what Jake didn’t know is that through the pain of his bloodied nose, your hand was broken and throbbing, but you could take the heat without showing a single sign of pain on your face as you stood tall behind your father–gripping at the back of his chair to push through the pain.

Because if you had learnt one thing about this lifestyle, it was that showing any sign of weakness in a world of men was not an option.

***-***-***-***-***-***-***-***-***-

(Six Years Later- Present Day) 

Your father would be turning in his grave right now if he knew that this was the first plane, albeit, best plan, you could come up with. The mirror image of yourself that had been staring back at you for the better half of ten minutes looked entirely different to the person you thought you would become. This wasn't the life you wanted for yourself–but it was the only one you knew. Only one you had. Only one you'd ever get. 

“Suck it the fuck up.” You scoffed to yourself before you shook off all your second thoughts and existential dread. “No backing down.” Noone was going to give you a shoulder to cry on, so there were no reasons to cry in the first place, no reasons to feel anything. You fumbled fast to pack up the lipstick and pressed powder compact back into your clutch, ruffling your hair in the mirror as you studied the scars that littered your face from a lifetime of crime, dirty bidding and underground societal standards. “Live in clover, Widow, Live in frivolous clover.” Mumbling the words to yourself as you let out a deep sigh, hopefully this would work out in your favour, it would be a good change if it did. If this meeting worked out it would be considered a drastic change from the current trajectory the way things had been going for you as of late. Everything had gone tits up. You just needed one fucking win.

As the soft curls flowed freely over the expanse of your exposed shoulder, you couldn’t help but tremble at the thought of your next move, it was only for a split second, but you still held the door knob of the foyer bathroom for far longer than you should have. Mulling over if this was truly the right thing to be doing. Your father would fucking kill you if he knew exactly who you were running to for guidance and safety the second he was laid to rest. The dirt over his grave had barely lost its moisture, freshly laid before you were reaching out to organise a meeting with the rival Mafia Boss. Jacob ‘The Hangman” Seresin.

This could make or break your entire enterprise. The moment you realised your late father’s “enterprise” had become officially yours overnight, you lost whatever slither of innocence you had left, not that you had much left to lose in the first place. The harsh reality quickly set in that you were now the sole female Capofamiglia in all of Fitzroy. Not only that but you were only in your early fucking twenties. These two factors alone made you venerable, a walking goddamn target if there ever was one. You may as well shoot a beacon into the air for all your fathers enemies to swarm on you like hungry wolves because as you were guided up the stairs by two security guards that looked more like henchmen than respectable security detail, you knew they were all lying in wait for the right moment. 

And that moment could have very well have been now, as you walked right into the study that belonged to none other than Jake Seresin. 

You needed to act quickly, work smarter, “use your wits' ' as your pops would say. Fitzroy was dangerous territory, crime was a normality, violence occurred on the daily and despite your youth you had been exposed to the worst of the worst, having been your fathers only child, the sole erie to the enterprise he’d build upon after his father left him to carry it on. 

You knew proving your worth would be harder than just stepping up to take your father’s place, you needed to show every man in this city of Fitzroy just how much of a threat you could be if crossed, just as dangerous and just as malicious they could be. 

As of right now, your men looked weak at the leadership of such a young woman, they were dropping like flies, reaching out to rival mobs to cut deals with and jump ship. As far as you were concerned however, their loyalties lied with your father, not you. you’d spit on their graves quicker than you could blink if given the chance. Looking up from your shoes, you saw Jake sitting at his desk–he hadn’t bothered to look up from the laptop he was looking at. He’d heard the door open, heard his security mention your arrival, but he didn't seem to give a shit. Typical fucking Jake. 

Revenge lied deep behind your eyes, over the years you’d become nothing but a cold empty shell of the girl who just wanted love and compassion. Now? You were hopelessly devoted to a world of drugs, sex, money and power. 

“By all means, Don't let me interrupt.” You cleared your throat before raising a single brow at Jake as you crossed your arms over themselves, standing in the middle of his overly exuberant study. The dress you wore had been an odd choice for such a meeting, but then again you never got a chance to really dress up these days. It was just a simple black slip, heels to match. 

Jake didn't even blink as he reached for the handgun sitting pretty on top of his desk, his emerald eyes still glued to the screen as he scrolled–pulling the hammer back as he aimed it right at you. 

“I don't recall asking you to fucking speak.” Jake spat as he heard you move, following in his actions as you reached for the gun strapped to your thigh, pulling the hammer back as you trained it on his chest, a fatal shot. 

“Damn, we must have gone shopping at the same gun show Seresin.” You smirked, taking as few steps forward. “I don't believe you’d shoot a lady.” Jake still didn't bother to look your way, the longer it took to draw his attention off whatever he was looking at made you lapse in your own judgement. Perhaps coming here was a bad idea after all, a lesson to be learned. But you only knew of one man who could either help you rise to the top of Fitzroy’s criminal hierarchy or one who would happily watch you roll around with the dogs in the streets. Either way, The kingpin of Fitzroy, Jake ‘The Hangman” Seresin, was your only shot at power.

“No lady here, just a fucking pest.” Jake sneered as he finally turned his head to look at you, lowering his gun as you did, watching carefully as you lowered it to your side, index finger still looking rather trigger happy as it ghosted over the trigger. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” Jake grinned as he let his back rest against the back of his study chair, hands coming up to cup the back of his head. 

“You took some of my men, Hangman, that’s not very nice.” Jake could tell your voice was laced with venom, it damn near echoed out in Jake's enormous study, antique in style, he liked the mob style aesthetic. Jake just chuckled at you, shaking his head in reluctance to believe that's how this whole ordeal had gone. 

“I don’t recall taking any men, if anything they ran to me like petulant children when they clearly didn't get their way.” Jake was quick to defend himself as he rose from his seat, his hand resting on the oak of his desk as he leaned over. “The fuck are you doing here Y/n?” Jake had never been good with small talk. “Where's daddy? Why is he sending you to do his dirty work?” Jake had been expecting your father for his monthly meeting any day this past week, it wasn't like him to miss such a scheduled and routine meeting, even since Jake had taken charge. He could vividly remember sitting in on your fathers meetings when you were both just kids. Jake had always been much older than you, but he always had a thing for the way you never took any shit from anyone—including him. 

“Dead.” You caught the lump in your throat before it could even be detected by Jake, never faulting your tough exterior for a moment. “I thought you would have known by now, kept the funeral private though, just me.” You hadn’t gone parading your father's death around. The notice you’d sent Jake a week ago still sat unread in his emails. He’d seen your name pop up and barely paid enough thought to it that perhaps the email was of import. Looking at Jake with a spiteful eye—you knew he didn’t give a shit about your situation, your father’s death only meant one thing and one thing only—he was top dog now. 

“My condolences.” Jake looked up with pity plastered over his entire face, he did care. To an extent, he knew what it was like to be thrown into the ocean without a life jacket. When he’d lost his father, he thought he was ready to take over his fathers enterprise. It's all he’d ever grown up hearing. But he wasn’t, he leant though. He dealt with his demons until they consumed him whole. “Whatever will you do now? Fitzroy’s newest Capofamiglia?”

“I was hoping you’d share your secrets if you’re interested in a merger?” Fumbling with your dress, you placed your gun back in your garter. The rush of adrenaline had begun to fade as the cocky smirk you wore faded after no longer than five seconds  after having just come to the realisation that you were truly standing across the room from none other than the notorious Jake Seresin. The Hangman, how the fuck you weren’t dead by now was beyond you. “Unless you wanna sit back and watch me take over Fitzroy?” 

Jake sauntered out from behind his desk, eyeing you off as if what you asked was the dumbest thing he’d ever heard you say. Backing up slowly with your gaze trained on Jake, he stalked you down like prey until your back hit one of the many bookcases that lined his study. You brought your hand up to rest gently on top of your garter belt which once again held the handgun your late father had given you. You never should have lowered your weapon. 

Jake's walk was intimidating, his glare nothing but intense as he trapped you between himself and the bookcase now pressing into your back. The dark, navy-blue suit looked far too snug against his bulging body. With a shockingly evil smirk, Jake leaned in, trapping you between his arms as his hot breath made the tiny hairs on the back of your neck stand upright to attention. His deep, hypnotic voice filling his study.

“So, The Widow wants to know my secrets?” Jake cooed as he squished your cheeks together with his fingers and his thumb, forcing you to look at him. “How I run such a successful enterprise like this?” He paused, pressing a light kiss against your exposed collar bone, trailing his free hand down your torso, his thumb massaging your hip slightly before his hand continued down to aimlessly feel the gun resting against your supple skin. His head shot up to meet your eyes, a devilish grin upon his face as he dipped his hand inside your dress to pull the gun out, revealing it in all its glory, pressing it into your neck as you lifted your jaw high in an attempt to get away. “Fucking look at you, you pathetic pest of a thing.” Jake had been genuinely surprised when his assistance had told him you’d requested a meeting, you had always been his favourite play thing. But the dynamic had now changed, you were his rival? His equal. “You aren’t worth my fucking time you know that right?” 

“Still breathing aren't I? So I must be worth something.” You challenged as Jake cocked the hammer back, making you flinch as he held your head still. He could practically hear your heart beating out of your chest as he growled, gritting his teeth, clenching his jaw. But Jake didn't pull the trigger, he simply pushed himself away just to revel in the moment he had you near cowering. How did you ever think you could come into his office, step into his territory and ask him for a merger. What fucking bullshit. 

A slight gasp left your lips as you felt hopelessly defeated, watching Jake as he walked away dangerously slow, unloading the gun as he walked, pocketing the bullets before placing the now rendered useless gun on his desk before he dropped his hands back to rest against the oak. Still wearing a shockingly sinister smile.

“Well, there’s three-points you gotta consider to take on this sought of, enterprise. First, you need to pick your crew, they gotta have a range of skills and Do. As. They're. Told.” Jake pushed off his desk, sauntering back to meet you back against the bookcase, trapping you once again as his hand came to cup your chin lightly, looking up into his emerald eyes you couldn’t help but whimper quietly. Now weaponless. 

“Second” Jake growled, “Timing, they gotta be where you want them to be at precisely the moment you want them there, they get there too soon? and they’ll stick out like dog’s balls, get there too late and the whole thing's down shitter now isn’t it?” His lips were practically ghosting yours as he leaned down to meet your height. 

“Then there’s the all-important third element.” It was the hand that snaked itself around your throat that had you audibly hissing, it made Jakes slacks all the more tighter listening to the small whimpers you let escape as he constricted your airways–wanting to see just how far he could push you before you broke and pleaded mercy. “Someone's gotta be in control.” Jake didn't hate you, nor did he like you, but there was an affinity of some sort there that he couldn't deny. 

You'd always been the one who challenged him despite your youth, despite your inability to understand this was a man's world. You'd never make it on your own, Jake knew that, he knew that was the very reason why you were here. The second Jake had realised your father wasn't around–he knew why you’d come to him. He didn't have to ask nor did you have to say it, but he didn't have any intention of making this easy for you. 

“Someone’s gotta see the whole enterprise playing out like a general, directing his troops.” Jake let his hand dip from its grasp around your neck, lowering it slowly to rest against your hips, pulling you flush against him as his head still tilted slightly to meet your lips, not fully connecting his mouth with yours but close enough to make you crave his touch. “But pretty girl, the most import thing you need to run an enterprise like this, the thing I have by the fucking bucket load.” 

Jake met your gaze momentarily, searching your eyes for the very thing he hoped you’d give him, permission. Whispering one final word against your lips as his hands worked to pull up the silk of your dress to expose your legs, Jake ‘The Hangman’ Seresin smashed his lips roughly against yours as your arms flew up to wrap around his neck, feverously engulfed in his charm alone, you were screwed, the kingpin of Fitzroy now had you undeniably under his charismatic charm. Like he always had since you’d first met him all those years ago in your father's study. The one you were never allowed in, the one that wasn't supposed to ever be yours. But had ultimately become. 

“Confidence.”

**************************************

Tags: @mishala005 @crazyunsexycool @a-serene-place-to-be @bradshawseresinbabe @dempy @multifandomfangirll @lanie-k @xcastawayherosx @aboutelijahhh @clancycucumber230 @agentrose17 @mizzzpink @phoenix1388 @avaleineandafryingpan @blindedbythelightt @emorychase @potato-girl99981 @jimstreetownsme @xoxabs88xox