#and he had time to process and come to terms with that before he got vamped

[tookishcombeferre]

I'm a 30 year old transmasc non-binary person. I saw the movie Atlantis: The Lost Empire when I was 7 in the theater. My dad's dad had just died, and we weren't all that close. But, it really helped me to see Milo process the death of his own grandfather at the time. I think Atlantis came out about a year(?) after my dad's dad died? Anyway, I really always related to Milo even if I couldn't understand why at the time. (Now I get it.) I just watched the movie again because I wanted to, and my toddler watched bits and pieces with me while we shared some tea. They watched me *bawl.* My mom's dad, though we never got to talk about the fullness of my experience before he died a little less than two years ago, was the only family member who just understood me with no words. He never knew my name or pronouns - so he never used them. But, he got *me.* His yard was where I could climb trees, feed birds, roughhouse, and do all the "forbidden boyish" stuff. I watched Robin Hood and The Sorcerer's Stone in his living room. I built towers up to the ceiling. I got to read Frankenstein on his porch when I was in the seventh grade. I'm pretty sure my first unabridged copy of the Sherlock Holmes mysteries was purchased for me by him. He was basically my dad or second-dad. Later, he would listen to me talk about my papers, my poems, and my stories and, in turn, I'd listen to the latest of his research in biophysics, when he was still a researcher, or I'd listen to him explain, in layman's terms, the newest experiments he would read about after he stopped doing his own stuff. These were our lost civilizations and genuine arrowheads. When Mr. Whitmore handed Milo the Shepherd's Journal and said the line "Our lives are marked by the gifts we leave our children, and this is your grandfather's gift to you." My own kid was pillowed on my shoulder. I heard that line at 7. I cried in the theater because it's sad. You don't have to have lived the line for it be sad. I needed to learn loss young so I could feel loss better older. Because, now? That line collapsed on me like a ton of bricks, but I didn't get crushed by those bricks. I had a hard hat and padding to protect me. Like I said, my grandfather was like my dad. He's not coming back. But, he has given me so much. He has left me so much, and I get to decide what I want to leave to my own kid someday. I get to decide what world, what legacy, and what I leave for my own child. Because, it wasn't just the journal that Thaddeus left for Milo. It was the values that allowed Milo to remain steadfast when standing up to people physically stronger than him. I remember that right now. Especially right now. It's not just the intellectual gifts my grandfather left me. It's the tenacity. It's the love. It's protectiveness. It's the gentleness. It's the grace. It's the desire to be curious. It's the *need* to know. It's quiet faith. It's the desire to do justice. It's the desire to see peace for the next generation. It's the desire to listen to all sides of an argument before saying my own piece while also knowing when things have gone way too far and need to be shut down. It's knowing when and how to give people space to grow in their own way and time. Because, while everyone else in my family was forcing me into dresses, my grandfather was letting me climb trees in jeans and sneakers. He also didn't bat an eyelash when I cut my hair off my junior year of high school. So, he may not be here. But, he lives in the gifts he left me. So, while, I got my vaccine at 7, it didn't take effect until 28. Even then, I'm only just starting to feel like I'm actually inoculated at 30.

We can't be afraid to keep inoculating the youth. Kids need to see death, loss, and such like in their media. Withholding it from them just makes them less equipped for these exact moments when they're older. I firmly believe that.

Dear, sweet, Littlefoot, do you remember the way to the Great Valley?  I guess so. But why do I have to know if you’re going to be with me? I’ll be with you. Even if you can’t see me. What do you mean I can’t see you? I can always see you.

The Land Before Time(1988) dir. Don Bluth

[retiredteabag]

Dog-sitter!Toji - chapter 9

last chapter - next chapter - series masterlist

Synopsis: Toji was quite accustomed to objectifying himself for a check. And to be frank, far worse actions as well. Now he’s not sure what to do with himself after meeting the kind and generous owner of the dog he pet-sits for.

read along as Toji learns that you don't need to lose yourself in order to love and be loved.

Toji has never been the type to hold back.

He's honest and dislikes waiting to express his thoughts, even so, he had been holding in these feelings for a long time now.

How could it be that it took working together with you under extreme stress for him to realize that no one had seen him as a human quite like you had.

And for you, in the midst of your anxiety and strain, you consider him, in the small things he does such as ordering food, and in the large, working by your side to fight this battle day and night.

Dark evening nights bled into fresh mornings, unearthing the man who had threatened you had been the both of your main goals but along the way Toji grew more and more comfortable thinking of you as a friend.

In the past, when you had asked him to consider you as a friend, he would mentally roll his eyes. You were his employer, it was out of the question. But now? He found himself wondering why "friendship" seemed too gentle a term. Why is it he was wanting more?

You on the other hand, you had learned long ago to be honest with yourself. Even before, when you felt giddiness at his appearance or when you noticed yourself fixing your hair in the car, you were able to recognize your attraction to the man.

This attraction was not just physical though, he was dedicated and kind, humble and brave. You wouldn't say it, no matter how much your heart melted when you saw his nature.

Especially not now, when you needed to prioritize your dog.

--

Your hands shook as the attorney described the process of what defending you in court would look like. As it had turned out, despite there being a real case against your dog, there was still but a little evidence to suggest that your dog had initiated anything.

You also learned that the plaintiff not coming to you for months after the event was not a good look for them. Each passing hour, the ache in your heart would lessen. The beginnings of your chest easing helped you prepare yourself for the proceedings.

What you had not expected was how the dog that had attacked Toji was an unregistered working animal.

This would suggest that the work the dog was trained for was illegal or nefarious in some other nature.

In all honesty, you had expected the man who had shown up at your door to have been running a puppy mill of some sort.

Far from your realm of possibility was how dark the world could truly be. Toji had taken it upon himself to "do some digging", only to find that the Tosa Inu that had put your dog in the animal hospital over night had been an underground fighting dog.

The more you listened to what that could possibly mean, the sicker you felt. You were even more grateful to Toji though. He insisted that he hadn't hired a PI or anything, simply stating that he "knew a guy" who could uncover whatever had been happening behind the scenes.

Gambling was illegal in all areas of Japan but even worse was dog fighting. Several prefectures, including Tokyo had the act banned and on the level that this ring was operating, it was fair to assume other crimes were occurring behind the scenes. Betting on dog fights merely scratched the surface it seemed.

Even knowing all this, it wasn't until animal welfare organizations got involved, promising to back you in any way, that you began to rest easier at night.

--

You had spent what felt like an eternity yet somehow a blink of time making legal arguments in your office. You worked until your brain hurt and your eyes strained from the light of the computer screen.

During working hours, your attorney would occasionally be at your residence, working with yourself and Toji. Witnesses to Toji's injury, and your dog's behavior needed to be called forth, receipts and bills from the veterinary hospital needed to be located and confirmed for court proceedings, photographs of the scene in which the dog fighting ring was located needed to be confirmed. It all took far longer than you were expecting.

After working hours you would find yourself writing down your thoughts, hoping your lawyer was right to presume a positive fate. With the only companion you had known for years on the line however, it was a challenge to remain calm.

With his constant and unwarranted vigilance, you insisted Toji stay with you at the house. He had stayed in the guest room before and if he was so determined to help, the least you could do is offer him a place to stay.

It didn't take much convincing on your part, he stood by you through the whole ordeal.

One night, after a particularly grueling day of unburying evidence of animal abuse, you sat on your couch, tenderly stroking your dogs neck as tension built within your own.

It was funny to think that not even a month ago taking off this much work would be unthinkable to you. For the first time in your life, you had burned through all of your PTO, vacation, and sick leave. You were lucky enough to have an employer, though unperturbed by your usual overworking nature, was willing to be lenient with your schedule due to the nature of the issue at hand.

You had been mindlessly playing with the dogs ears, staring at the noiseless television before you when the gentle steps of the man you had come to appreciate so much found their way into the living room.

"Care if I join you?" He spoke softly, perhaps worried to startle you.

Attempting a carefree manner, you tried for a grin, "Of course, come, sit down."

He shuffled closer and sat to the other end of the dog, the beast, who had all his life (to your knowledge) been inconsolably frightened by men, did not hesitate to lay his head atop Toji's thigh.

The man laced his fingers through the dogs fur, smiling softly. "How are you feeling?"

Your shoulders jitter slightly as his hand brushes your own. Your dog lifts his head a moment to look at you. Huffing he plops his head back, returning to rest on the man's leg. Your heart races like a silly schoolgirl. "Good, good, everything is really looking up, you know?" You swallow a bit, "Toji, really, I know I said it before but I just wanted to make it clear how grateful I am to you. You really don't have any obligation to be here, helping me-"

The man by your side seems to straighten a bit where he sat. His hand as stopped moving and he just looks at you.

"-ever since that day at the animal hospital, when you put the needs of my boy here over your own, before that really, I have been in your debt. I hope it was never a burden... I hope you know what a comfort your presence has been."

"No." Toji's spine is taught and he takes a gulp of air before continuing on quickly, "no- no its not a burden at all. And...owe me? How could you owe me?" He laughs a bit at the notion.

Before you interject to make some painfully sweet comment, he pushes on, "You must not know-" he stares at you now, only a few breaths away, "how...lucky I am to be able to do this job, to be of some help...to...have even met you."

He's stumbling over his words, he never does that, but you make him weak somehow. You make him want to take care with his words. You make him feel so very human, so very alive.

"Well..." You fiddle with your hands, having long since moved them to your lap to avoid the strange thumping that occurs when your fingers cross. "I feel like the lucky one."

--

After weeks of scouring information, preparing documents, and developing exposé's, the result you could have only prayed for arrived.

The very next morning your attorney practically bounded in through the front door. She was laughing and flinging around a written notice as if it was a ticket straight to the pearly gates of heaven. Upon the address line, in bold letters, was a miracale in ink.

"COURT FILING: DISSMISSAL "

"W-what does this mean?" You smile up at your lawyer, her hoots and hollers were contagious.

"What does it mean? It means that coward of a litigant has withdrawn the charges!"

It took a moment for the elation to fill you, you repeated her words over and over, you gave her one clear look as if to ask, 'does that mean what I think it means?"

She just nodded.

You broke down in laughs. The dog wove in between your legs sensing your joy, Toji came rushing into the foyer, words of 'what's going on?' left him before he saw you grinning on the floor, scratching the dog's neck.

He smirks as if he had been counting on this the whole time, steadily walking your way until he is within arms reach. He displays one arm stretched out to you.

Under the assumption he was going to pull you up from your spot on the ground, you reach a hand to take his own and gasp when he dips to pull you into his arms. Lifting you with a steady grip.

"Toji!" You laugh, oh how it felt good to laugh once more.

The dog circled you, panting and wiggling his butt. The other person present was talking about how you had every means to come after the man with your own counterclaim, having found so much on his name. But it was all background noise. You were too caught up in the grasp Toji had on your waist. His smile. His laugh. All of it.

It wasn't until you were placed carefully back on your own two feet that you noticed the woman awkwardly grinning at the two of you.

You knew that you might still have a fight ahead of you, and it was one you would willingly take. But at this very moment, you felt incandescently happy. Nobody was taking your baby from you, and in all these efforts, it seemed you had made a close friend.

And perhaps even a connection verging dangerously close to something more.

--

Some cheap barbecue spot was not what you had expected when you told Toji you would get him whatever he liked in celebration.

"Honestly, I only started eating well when I began looking after your place." Toji takes a piece of beef that he grilled and placed it onto your plate, taking a spoonful of broth for himself.

"That's funny, I kind feel the same, I got so nervous that you wouldn't have anything to eat that I started planning for my groceries." You look down at the bite he prepared for you and smile.

The man before you narrows his eyes, "Well... I'm glad you started eating better." He spins his chopsticks around and flips some meat over on the grill.

"You know...you never asked for anything-" You start, recalling how you had left a note in the early days asking if there was something he wanted from the store.

"You never had to get me anything." Toji grins, "You've been more than generous."

There's a long pause occupied by the both of you taking bites of your dinner and smiling. You'd been doing that an awful, you realize and compose yourself, slightly embarrassed, "I don't think you know how much I appreciate you, Toji." You point an accusing finger at him.

And you don't know how much I love hearing you say my name he thought but kept it to himself.

"Nahhhh, I think I do. You kinda wear your heart on your sleeve."

You roll your eyes, recalling how he had seen you in so many positions, the awkward early phase, angry, teary, even sick, he had seen it all. Once again, you cringe at how much of you he knows.

"If you knew you wouldn't be calling me generous. Before I had someone I could trust with the house and dog, I was so stressed all the time. Work was piling up and I hated leaving home, knowing he would be anxious."

You recall all the nights before Toji when you tearfully considered rehoming your most loyal partner.

"Well now you're free to overwork yourself from the comfort of your office." He teases.

The two of you went on eating and poking fun at each other. Every little instance of connection between you two drew you both closer. Dark times bring out the true nature of individuals and identify exactly who someone is.

And who you were was everything he desired.

Dedicated, hardworking, kind.

Even Toji was surprised by his own unquestioning nature when it came to helping you. He would do whatever it took to see you happy.

--

Toji had insisted on driving you to dinner. He told you he was taking you to his favorite spot. For a time, he was embarrassed by his car, seeing you sitting in the passenger seat almost felt like a sin but you just grinned at him, and conversed easily.

He felt like a student again, driving as carefully as ever to ensure the safety of such precious cargo.

At the end of the night, when he pulled up your drive way, he told you to stay seated.

Confused, you couldn't help laughing when he came around to get the door for you.

A part of you, however small, hoped he wasn't just teasing. Hoped he might see you as more than his employer. Hoped this connection between you two would not end with the resurgence of the sun.

You tell him he didn't have to walk you to the door but he just scoffs and bares the cold by your side. The celebration was still fresh between you.

You didn't even have your hand on the door yet, everything of the day was weighing on you, the way he had lifted you up and held you, all the smiles you shared, all the easy conversation. You knew it had to stop, or you might end up deluding yourself further than you already had.

"I think it's fair to say you've gone above and beyond dog sitter status, Toji. I'm sure you'll enjoy staying at your place for once."

You had meant it lightheartedly. You really had felt bad these nights when he worked into the evening, staying in your guest room to support you. Pulling out his reading glasses for the first time in years. Despite your blithe attitude, he seemed to get all serious.

He looks at his shoes for a moment, the wind chilled you to the bone but Toji doesn't flinch.

Everything in Toji's mind was telling him to keep his mouth shut.

He was nothing special to you, no matter how kindly you told him otherwise. He had nothing to offer you. He was an ally cat of a man to your show cat of a women. He was never going to be any more than the dog sitter. Why risk the best position he had ever been granted? Why put an end to this dream he had been living?

But Toji has never been the type to hold back.

"I don't think I can keep on like this."

He doesn't look at you, still too occupied by the pavement.

"What?" Barely a beat had passed before you try to bend and catch his eye but he lifts his face to the heavens.

At one point, money was all Toji cared for, he was willing to do anything for it, but now, he was feeling things he hadn't felt since he was a boy, maybe things he never had before.

"This..." He sighs and finally gives you a resolute look, "this is my job."

You're taken aback. Replaying the words a hundred times within a millisecond. Trying to see his meaning. The words hurt, yes, you knew you paid him. Of course none of his actions meant anything more than job security. But as much as you had told yourself to be realistic, his kind and selfless attitude had started to leak into your brain, making you feel special.

You step back, still not opening the door. Wanting now to see him leave. To solidify this moment. "Right. Yes, Toji, of course."

He's still looking at you, pupils blown wide but he doesn't hesitate. "I'm afraid you’re gonna have to find someone else." in stark contrast to before, he never strays from your vision. He shakes his head as if to say, 'no'.

"What?" You repeat. Suddenly afraid of his meaning you try to take a step down to meet him at the landing but he holds up a hand. "What do you mean?"

Had it been too much? The court case? The working together? Had it only been pleasant for you? All those nights chatting on the couch, all those sweet "goodnight's"?

He pulls back his hand, one quick inhalation of the night's air was all the courage he could summon and coincidentally, all he required, "I've got these feelings that aren't exactly appropriate for the workplace."

All to be heard are the whistles of wind on the trees.

"So I think it might be best-" He's shaking his head again, not believing a word, "for you to find someone...less...attached."

It makes him chuckle, as broken as this moment makes him feel. How long has it been since he has been attached, since he has felt like this at all. How silly.

"Toji...Toji what are you saying?"

"All of this" his makes a show of his hands, "all of you, who you are, how you behave, what you do for others. I never want to lose it. It's my job, but deep down...I know it's more than that." He keeps heaving in breath, making wild motions with his hand, begging you to understand, "I want to be there to take care of the dog, I want to stay and take care of you when work is too much, I want to go for walks and eat dinner together, I don't even want to be paid anymore-GOD I cannot believe I just said that-"

He's laughing but your mind is morphing back into the dreamlike notion you had been shoving away. No words escape your lips as you grab hold of his hand, "I thought...I thought you wouldn't think of me like that..."

Now he's looking at you like you've made some ridiculous joke.

"I thought you just... liked taking care of the dog..."

He guffaws. "I do..." he inhales shakily, "believe me. I do. But... I definitely like you more."

You don't even know when his hand went to graze over your cheek but suddenly, your face is feeling warm in spite of the chill.

"I-I just can't believe- I feel...Toji I was talking myself out of this just a moment ago."

His eyes go all soft, you wonder if you had ever missed this look of his, "Is it too good to be true if I guess you feel the same?" "Gosh, Toji, No! I-" You pull his hand from your cheek and use it to cover your eyes.

Not too long ago, you felt like floating, thinking the day could not possibly become greater in importance, but life has a funny way of proving us wrong.

--

For a moment there on the porch, you had thought that he might kiss you. Right there on your doorstep in the cold, with your dog rolling his eyes inside. But Toji didn't, in fact, he pulled himself back. Holding your hand, murmuring that he wanted to "do this right" as he played with your fingers.

And for the second time that day, you have the overwhelming desire to dance around your house. To spin and clutch your heart as impossible hope filled your senses. Only this time, as the door closes and you watch out the window, a hand clutched to your chest. You grant yourself the privilege.

A moment to yourself of pure delight.

Hidden from your view, Toji was experiencing a very similar sensation, palm displayed across his pounding heart, he settles his head against the steering wheel and wonders if this all is a dream.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

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[meadowfics]

cryptic

kang dae-ho x f!reader

one of the scariest things happens to you after leaving the games

warnings: cryptic pregnancy, near death, at the time I am writing this season 3 is not out yet, angst, comfort at the end

when you entered the squid games, the last person you expected to see was dae-ho.

your heart nearly stopped when you spotted him in the crowd for the six-legged pentathlon.

you had to take a double take before starting the race with your group..

yup, there he was...broad shoulders, haunted eyes, and that same furrow in his brow you used to know so well.

he froze when he saw you up there ready to play with your own group, his lips parting in disbelief, but the guards didn’t give either of you time to process it.

the game began, and survival instincts took over.

you had the fastest group, luckily.

you completed the jegi game and ran to the finish line as everyone cheered for your group.

however, your ears tuned out everyone except for dae-ho, who made sure that you witnessed his support.

waiting for his group to come back to the dorms was torture for you.

its been nearly six-months since the last time you saw your ex-boyfriend.. however, you still loved him.

he broke up with you, and you had an idea as to why.

he felt like you deserved better, in terms of finding someone who had a bit more masculinity.

you never wanted that, or anyone else.. you always wanted your dae-ho.

a glimpse of relief was caught in your eyes when his group, the last group, entered the dorms.

he spotted you and gave you a light smile, before he turned away, retreating back to his group.

you wanted to talk to him, but what could you possibly say?

throughout the night, the exhaustion that settled over you wasn’t just from the constant fear of death but from the hunger you couldn’t shake away.

those pitiful trays of food barely sustained you, and your body craved more.

you kept with your group you had in the six-legged pentathlon..

when someone in your group couldn’t stomach their meal, you always took it, masking your desperation with a lighthearted

“don’t want it to go to waste.”

deep down, you hated that you were lying, but survival had its price.

dae-ho was always watching you, even when you weren’t aware of it.

he kept his distance, knowing how complicated things were between you two, but his protective instincts never faltered.

when you almost stumbled into danger during one of the nightly fights that broke out.. he was the one who grabbed your arm.

he pulled you to safety underneath his bunk before you could get hurt.

dae-ho didn’t say much, just a light, “stay alert, don't play any heroics,” before disappearing again.

the rebellion with the guards was a turning point.

the chaos had triggered dae-ho’s ptsd, and he was trembling, muttering under his breath about orders and mistakes.

when you witnessed him dropping the jacket full of gun magazines, you jumped up from your bunk bed to jog over to him.

007 nearly did too, but you stopped him.

"I got it.. ju- just stay with your mother."

approaching dae-ho, it broke your heart to see him like that because it reminded you why he left you in the first place.

the reason for the breakup is because he thought his brokenness from the marines would be too much for you to handle.

he pushed you away before you even knew how to help.

this time, you refused to let him spiral alone.

“dae-ho, look at me,” you said softly.

you tapped on his knee while rubbing his elbow softly, some physical reassurance while his ears were blocked by his strong hands.

“you’re not in the marines right now. you’re here, on this bed.. with me..."

you mumbled...

the man flinched hearing you, which caused you to nearly flinch as well.

did he think that you were going to hit him??

"we’re going to get through this, but you need to come back to me, okay?”

it took a long moment, even after hyun-ju came back, but your voice reached him.

after a while, his breathing steadied.

the next games were brutal. human chess left you rattled, knowing how easily a single wrong move would’ve ended you.

during the monkey bars game, you thought you were done for. every muscle in your body screamed, and it felt like your arms were going to give out at any second.

as a teenager, you had superior upper body strength.. whats so different now?

your arms were shaking for those last few bars, but at least you are alive.

when you collapsed on the other side, you were still shaking.

dae-ho was there in an instant, crouching beside you and muttering something you barely caught.

“its okay, you're okay, you made it. I'm here,"

it was a miracle that both you and dae-ho made it to the end.

his group—jun-hee, myung-gi, hyun-ju, and gi-hun—were all battered but alive.

you were the sole survivor from your group, most of them dying during dongdaemun.. and the weight of that loss lingered heavy in your chest.

when the games finally ended, and the guards began preparing to release you, dae-ho pulled you aside. his hands were rough but gentle as they grasped yours, his voice low and urgent.

“i didn’t think i’d survive this, let alone see you again. but we did, and i… i want to fix things. if you’ll let me.”

his words hit you like a wave, and you knew there was no denying the truth anymore. despite everything, you still loved him. you missed him. you wanted him back in your life.

“okay, we can fix this--”

you said softly, your voice cracking.

"but dae-ho.... why did you leave?"

you nearly cried, thinking about the last time you saw dae-ho before now.

the way he left your apartment, the way you could not eat for days, you wanted to make sure that something like that did not occur again with him.

"it was not you, like I said-- I thought you deserved better than me.. someone who was stronger than me."

the man frowned.

you placed your hand on his strong bicep, just on top of his marine tattoo.. your other hand went to his face.

"dae-ho, you're the strongest man I know. even if that wasn't the case, I do not want anyone else.. ever! I just want you."

you say.

at this point, the guards start taking everyone away to go back home.

“meet me at our cafe spot in seoul on november 16th!!!"

the last thing you remembered was the sound of his voice before the guards released the gas that knocked you out.

the impact of hitting the pavement still lingered in your body as you woke up, tied up, and blindfolded.

the cold concrete under you only added to the disorientation, and your heart pounded as you tried to make sense of what was happening.

all you could see is black.

then, a voice...soft and filled with concern...called out.

“oh my god, are you okay? hold on, let me help you.”

the blindfold was pulled away, and you blinked against the sudden light.

the woman in front of you had a kind face, her brows furrowed in worry as she quickly untied the ropes around your wrists.

“who did this to you?”

“i…” you paused, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“thank you. i don’t even know.”

"do you want me to call the police for you?"

"oh no, its okay do not worry about that!"

she helped you sit up, her hands hovering as if afraid you might collapse again.

“what’s your name?”

your mind raced, but you dodged the question.

“what’s today’s date?”

her expression shifted to confusion.

“it’s november 7th.”

november 7th. you exhaled deeply, relief and anxiety warring within you. nine days until november 16th.

nine days until you’d see dae-ho again. far too long, but at least you knew where to be.

time in the games had been meaningless, stretched and warped in the absence of phones and clocks.

as you stood up, you glanced down at yourself.

your old clothes were back...a black windbreaker jacket, green cargo pants, a black shirt, and your worn out adidas sambas.

it was strange to be out of the green tracksuit you had grown accustomed to, the one that labeled you as player 399.

instinctively, you reached into your pockets and felt something solid.

pulling it out, you saw a golden debit card. you stared at it, baffled, knowing it hadn’t been yours before the games. with shaking hands, you excused yourself.

“okay.. well i’m fine, really. thank you for helping me. i just… i need a moment.”

the woman hesitated, clearly unsure about leaving you alone.

“are you sure? you don’t look fine.”

“i’ll be okay,” you insisted, forcing a smile.

“thank you again.”

only six steps away, an atm caught your eye. you slid the card into the machine, your hands trembling.

the screen loaded, and when the balance appeared, your breath hitched. 11,398,890,025.33 won.

its the money you won in the games, split between the survivors..

before you could process the shock, a sharp pain shot through your stomach.

it felt like a punch, but there was no one there.

the pain grew worse, twisting and radiating until you doubled over.

“ahhh!” you yelped, clutching your stomach as the cramps intensified.

your knees buckled, and you collapsed, gasping for air while clenching your teeth.

the woman hadn’t gone far and came running back at the sound of your cries.

“hey! what’s wrong? oh my god, are you okay?!”

she knelt beside you, her panic rising as she saw the state you were in.

“i don’t know,” you choked out, tears welling up as the pain overwhelmed you.

“it hurts—my stomach—”

“okay, okay, stay with me. breathe! i’m calling an ambulance.” she pulled out her phone, her voice trembling as she gave the dispatcher your location.

“hang in there, okay? help is on the way.”

the pain was unbearable, and your vision blurred, the edges going dark as you struggled to stay conscious.

the faint sound of the woman’s voice and the distant wail of approaching sirens were the last things you heard before everything went black.

waking up, you felt a strange tightness around your stomach and a dull ache in your body.

the beeping of machines surrounded you, and cords were attached to your belly. you blinked, your heart racing as you noticed an iv in your arm.

panic set in when you realized your clothes were gone.

sitting up too fast, you scanned the room. relief washed over you when you spotted your jacket draped over a chair.

the golden debit card was still tucked in its pocket. you exhaled shakily, clutching the fabric for reassurance.

the door creaked open, and a doctor entered..a woman with a kind face and a soft smile.

“hello! I love to see that you’re awake. that’s good,” she said gently.

“please, lay back down. you need to rest.”

reluctantly, you complied, your mind still racing.

“what happened? why am i here?”

the doctor grabbed a clipboard, jotting something down before meeting your eyes.

“i need to ask you a few questions first by obligation... how have you been feeling lately? any nausea, fatigue, or changes in appetite?”

you frowned, her questions making no sense.

“i don’t know… i thought it was just stress. why are you asking me this?”

her expression softened, and she set the clipboard aside.

“miss. l/n… you’re in labor.”

the words hit you like a freight train.

“what?!” you gasped, sitting up again, ignoring the ache in your body.

your hands instinctively flew to your stomach.

“that’s not possible. i didn’t even know i was… i mean… i can’t be pregnant!”

the doctor gave you a reassuring look.

“your bloodwork confirms it, and you’re already in active labor. you didn’t notice the signs?”

you stared at her, your mind spiraling. sure, you had a small bump, but you chalked it up to overeating during the games.

you never connected it to something like this.

“you’re 36 weeks along,” she continued gently.

“it’s a bit early, but your baby seems strong. we’ll monitor you both closely since you haven’t had prenatal care. it’s a girl, by the way.”

the revelation stole the air from your lungs. a girl. you were carrying a child...a child you hadn’t even known existed.

your heart pounded as reality crashed down on you.

“oh my god,” you whispered, tears welling up.

the doctor reached out, her tone soothing.

“is the baby’s father here? do you want us to call him?”

you shook your head, panic rising.

“i don’t know how to contact him. i don’t even have a phone.”

“that’s okay,” she said softly.

“we’ll make sure you have support. we can arrange for a doula to be with you during delivery.”

the next few hours blurred together. the contractions came faster and harder, and you clung to the voices of the doula and two doctors, their encouragement keeping you grounded.

after two hours of pushing..

“here she is,” the doctor said, placing the tiny, squirming bundle on your chest.

you stared down at your daughter, your breath catching. she was beautiful, with the softest features... dae-ho’s nose, his eyes, his face in miniature. but her lashes and lips were yours.

“hi, baby,” you whispered, tears slipping down your cheeks.

she was quiet and calm, looking up at you with wide eyes. after the chaos of the past week, her presence felt like the first peaceful thing in your life.

the doctor explained that your stress likely triggered your early labor, but at 36 weeks, your daughter was healthy enough.

as the hours passed, you couldn’t take your eyes off her. she was perfect, even though the circumstances were far from it.

the looming question hung heavy in your mind...how were you going to tell dae-ho?

he was the only man you’d ever been with, the only person who could be her father.

without a phone or any way to contact him, the thought of reuniting with him felt impossible.

clutching your daughter close, you whispered a silent promise.

no matter how hard it would be, you’d find a way to tell him. he deserved to know, and your daughter deserved her father.

november 16th felt surreal as you approached the cozy cafe where you and dae-ho had agreed to meet.

your daughter was bundled up snugly in soft layers, her tiny face peeking out from the ivory blanket that kept her warm against the autumn chill.

the weight of her in your arms felt grounding, a reminder of how much had changed in such a short amount of time.

stepping inside, the familiar aroma of coffee and pastries filled the air, pulling you back to the times you had spent here with dae-ho before everything fell apart.

your eyes scanned the room until they landed on him.

he sat at a table in the corner, wearing one of the casual outfits you remembered so well...a simple black jacket over a gray hoodie and dark joggers.

it was such a stark contrast to the green tracksuit you had last seen him in during the games.

when his eyes lifted and met yours, they softened, lighting up with a mix of surprise, relief, and joy.

then, his gaze dropped to the baby in your arms, and his expression froze, his eyes widening in shock.

he stood as you approached, his movements hesitant but filled with emotion.

“hey,” he greeted, his voice quiet but trembling slightly.

“hey,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper as you stopped in front of him. you glanced down at your daughter, then back at him.

“she’s yours.”

dae-ho’s breath hitched as his eyes locked onto the tiny bundle in your arms.

“mine?” he asked, his voice cracking.

he reached out cautiously, his large hands trembling as they hovered near her, afraid to touch but desperate to hold.

you nodded, gently placing your daughter in his arms.

“yeah. she’s our daughter, dae-ho. eight days old.”

the moment he held her, his composure shattered. his hands cradled her so delicately, as though she were made of the most fragile glass.

a tear escaped the corner of his eye as he looked down at her, his lips parting in awe.

“you were pregnant?” he finally managed to ask, his voice thick with emotion.

you nodded again, swallowing hard.

“i didn’t know. not at any point throughout the nine months.. not until after the games, when they dropped me off. i thought the cramps were just stress, but then… i went into labor. the doctors said I had a cryptic pregnancy, their first ever in their careers actually.”

dae-ho looked at her tiny face, taking in every feature—the little nose, the faint dimple in her cheek.

“she looks just like…” he trailed off, blinking rapidly.

“she looks like my second oldest sister.”

“she does,” you agreed softly, watching the way your daughter gazed up at him with pure love in her sleepy eyes.

his voice cracked as he whispered,

“i should’ve been there. i should’ve…” he paused, guilt flickering across his face.

“i wish i had known. i’m sorry i wasn’t there for you.”

you shook your head, reaching out to touch his arm.

“dae-ho, none of this is your fault. the circumstances… none of it was in our control. you’re here now, you have us.. and that’s what matters.”

he looked up at you, his eyes glassy with unshed tears.

“i promise you,” he said, his voice firm but filled with emotion, “i’m going to be here for both of you. no more running, no more excuses. we’ll be a family, and we’ll put everything from the games behind us.”

you nodded, tears streaming down your face as you watched him hold your daughter like she was the most precious thing in the world.

her tiny fingers curled around his thumb, and his heart seemed to melt at the sight.

the three of you will make it this work. you’d leave the trauma of the past behind and move forward

together.

masterlist

[deus-ex-mona]

my five surviving braincells when something remotely good happens:

[sideprince]

This is what makes Pettigrew such an interesting character tbh! According to Sirius:

‘Just before he transformed,’ said Black. ‘When I cornered him, he yelled for the whole street to hear that I’d betrayed Lily and James. Then, before I could curse him, he blew apart the street with the wand behind his back, killed everyone within twenty feet of himself - and sped down into the sewer with the other rats …’

Prisoner of Azkaban, Ch. 19

Pettigrew didn't just kill twelve people. What I mean is, the manner in which he killed those people says a lot about his character. He didn't serial-murder them in a deliberate way, he didn't line them up and take them out one by one, he didn't even target a specific building with certain people in it.

He blasted the street apart with his wand behind his back. He didn't look where he was aiming. He didn't look at who might be in the way. We don't know if he had a reasonable sense of the extent of the destruction he was causing or if he even knew there were any bystanders who would be hurt, let alone killed.

Was he panicked and acting without thinking, running down into the sewer afraid both of the law and of himself? Did he spend a significant period of time coming to terms with what he'd really done? Or maybe he ran from Voldemort's followers now he had no ally in Voldemort whose downfall they'd hold him responsible for, as well as from the law, not knowing how many people he killed, or that he'd killed any, and only found out later by reading an old Prophet in a bin. Was it his guilt that drove him back to Voldemort, the desperate need for validation he'd always had now magnified because he'd done something unforgivable?

Or was he fully aware of what he was doing, his move calculated, his peripheral vision telling him that a dozen people were within range of his blast, knowing that if he got away as a rat Sirius would be locked away for life for mass murder and the secret of his own betrayal would be safe? Did he get a taste of the power Voldemort wielded in the process and like it, having spent his life following others sycophantically, and now discovering what strength felt like? Is the reason he sought out Voldemort later that he had been chasing that high for years and was hoping Voldemort would give him the opportunity to feel it again? Only to realize when he did resurrect him that he didn't have the courage to wield that kind of power of his own volition with him around, and clearly didn't have it without him.

Even so, he killed Cedric without a second thought when Voldemort commanded him to. He prepared Harry meticulously for death when resurrecting Voldemort. He was ready to kill Harry and Ron at Malfoy Manor, if his silver hand changing course and killing Pettigrew is any indication of his original intentions. By the end of his life, Pettigrew was the person Voldemort used to do the dirty work like keeping prisoners quiet, the implication being that he was willing to murder and torture in the same casual way he killed Cedric. Yet he was also willing to be as brutal to himself, cutting his own hand off, an act of self-harm that goes against every human instict. Was it an act of self-preservation? He could have refused, turned into a rat and left Voldemort alone and friendless and gone to live under a false identity somewhere far away, but instead he chose to give his own hand to restore a master to power in the hope of gleaning some of it for himself.

I'm not sure the narrative tells us enough about Pettigrew to get a clear answer to his motivations or how his experiences informed his character arc, but he's interesting enough to raise all these questions!

I feel like this fandom never really talks about the fact that Peter Pettigrew murdered at least twelve people. Probably more (either directly or indirectly) while he was working for Voldemort. Like, everyone fixates on the fact that he turned traitor, that he was a spy and he got James and Lily killed and framed Sirius for it, and all of those things are absolutely terrible, but like... he murdered twelve people in cold blood. What Sirius went to Azkaban for was that murder, not for supposedly betraying his friends. Most of the wider wizarding world wasn't aware that the Potters had a secret keeper or that they'd been betrayed, they just thought that Voldemort had tracked them down, as he had so many others, and that was that. What Sirius was famous for was supposedly murdering thirteen people (twelve muggles + Peter) with a single curse. The mass murder was the big deal here as far as the rest of the world was concerned, and even without all of the betrayal, murdering twelve people on its own is still an absolutely horrific thing for Peter to have done, and nobody really seems to talk about it. He literally has so much blood on his hands.

[ecowgirl]

idk if anyone has actually been following this saga but huge absolutely major update

[winepresswrath]

drusilla's canon grandma kink is a thing that can be so charming & unhinged.

[andivmg]

My experience with Luke (Punz)

CW: toxic relationship, racism, dubious consent

I know in the past i said that i would no longer speak about him publicly, and when talking about my experiences with abuse and emotional mistreatment i begged to keep it anonymous but after reflecting on this for a week and seeing so many incredibly smart and strong women tell their stories. they have given me the strength to say his name.

this is really scary to talk about because of the copious levels of harassment i have received from his fans in the past so if this spreads or gets out of hand i will simply log off.

If you read my last post, i nicknamed him 1.

So aside from everything i said there, there were a lot of things i didn’t include because they would’ve made it obvious that it was him and it could potentially backfire on me so, i’m very afraid to post this. but i’m going to do it scared anyway, because it’s not fair that he gets to just go and live his life worry-free as if he didn’t practically ruin mine.

Because I already made a very lengthy post about him, i won’t include everything i said last time to avoid being redundant but if i repeat myself, please bear with me.

In our year long relationship i had to endure emotional neglect, gaslighting, verbal abuse, one instance where there was dubious consent, and much more.

Starting off at the beginning of our relationship, that’s when i was getting copious amounts of hate and harassment from his fan base (warranted or not), he decided that our relationship must be kept private. he said it was to “protect” me from his fanbase when in reality it was to protect himself. it was so he wouldn’t get all the backlash i was getting. this is funny because one of the things i got called out for was saying the B slur (derogatory term used against mexicans/latinos). I won’t get into the nuances of if i could say it or not as a puertorican because that’s discourse that does not pertain to this specific situation. But you know who definitely can’t say it? A white boy from Massachusetts. When i was getting cancelled for this and getting thousands of tweets calling me names, he decided that was the perfect time to say “I mean you are a b***** aren’t you? my little b*****.” Now, he said this completely unprompted. I was in the process of writing my apology and he just said that. I tell you this because i immediately shut him down and told him that there was no universe in which it was okay for him to say that word and especially not one where he could just call me that. While i was reprimanding him, he was smiling and laughing. he apparently found it amusing to call me a slur. regardless, he gave me a half-assed apology and said he wouldn’t do it again. and he didn’t. but this wasn’t the only time he was weirdly racist to me. this was my first time being in an interracial relationship so i was led to believe that this was normal by all the white people around me at the time. But, sometimes my spanish accent would come out and he would make fun of me and the way i pronounced some words. He also refused to visit me in Puerto Rico when i lived there or come meet my family when i really wanted him to because he “didn’t like the heat” or “it’s dangerous there isn’t it?”. Once, while we were watching season 2 of Bridgerton, he implied that the Sharma sisters were “too dark” for him to be attracted to them. This hurt me because they are brown skinned girls. I am a brown skinned girl. Then this, combined with the fact that he told me once he wasn’t attracted to me made me feel like my skin color was unattractive. These are only a few examples i can think of at the moment, but i’m sure there were more. Our relationship ended in 2022 so some of my memory is a bit hazy. But, I do remember feeling inferior to him throughout the relationship because he was white and I was not. I chalk that up to all the micro aggressions i had to deal with because i had never felt that way around white people before.

Another thing i had to endure was him constantly making me feel like he was embarrassed to be with me. Because i was cancelled, he didn’t want to associate with me too much. He did defend me on multiple occasions, I’ll give him that. But, he only did it because his name was getting dragged in the mud along with mine. Excusing my actions made him look better for being around me. In reality he didn’t really care. Because he was such a big content creator and someone i looked up to professionally, I took his advice as law. He told me to tone down my personality, to keep a low profile, to change things about myself to be more palatable to his audience. The same audience that spoke about me like “The pussy can’t be that good punz please stop defending her”. So i changed a lot of things about myself and my content to better suit what his audience liked. He made me feel like if his audience liked me, he would be public about our relationship and stop hiding it. He told me the reason why he wanted to keep our relationship a secret was because he didn’t want to get hate for it. But this wasn’t true. On my 20th birthday he went to Las Vegas for a twitch rivals event. That night i asked to facetime him to say goodnight and he refused because he was at a hotel room with his friends and he didn’t want them to know that we were together. It was as if my mere presence or the utterance of my name was a source of embarrassment for him. And he didn’t let me forget it. It wasn’t just a public thing at that point. He didn’t want people to know we were together, period. This was devastating to me because I would talk to all my friends about him. I was so proud to be with him and I was just one more problem to him. He made me feel so small and insignificant just because his fans didn’t like me.

He would berate me a lot. Not just due to getting heat online, although he did do that a lot. But in general whenever we would get into an argument or a disagreement he would always call me names like annoying or weird or stupid. He would raise his voice at me if i did something he didn’t like and call me an idiot. And that really hurt, i felt like i couldn’t bring up anything or do anything without getting insulted. If I hadn’t seen him in a few days because he was too busy streaming and i asked to hang out he would call me needy, clingy, and annoying. Granted, he might not have been wrong, but that is not something you say to someone you claim to love. He also insulted me when i was in depressive episodes. I have BPD and at the time i was not being treated properly for it. So, I was all over the place emotionally and he was what i clung to for validation, reassurance, and love. I talked to him when we first started dating about my disorder and told him that if it seemed like something he couldn’t handle that he could opt out of the relationship. I guess he didn’t think it was that bad or something idk because whenever i had really bad depressive episodes, he would tell me I was too sad to hang out with. He said that my sadness was a burden to him. Which would be fair. But, once my mother had a conversation with him about me. She told him that i am someone who needs a lot of love and caring. She said that if he wasn’t willing to put in that kind of effort into a relationship to just leave me alone. He reassured her that he would be there for me no matter what. He told my mother that he would protect me and my heart. He did not. He took all the warnings I gave him and ignored them and then made me feel like I was the problem. And even worse, he would say that i was pretending to be sad to get his attention when he would neglect for days at a time.

There were also some smaller things like the fact that he made me feel really guilty whenever he would spend money on me. Also, he would be really mean about my eating habits. For context, i used to suffer from an eating disorder. I was anorexic and had a really unhealthy relationship with food during high school and my first year of uni. This relationship began when i was recovering from my ED. For me, eating was really hard. So i had certain comfort foods that, while sometimes unhealthy, at least it was something to eat when i didn’t feel like eating anything. He knew this. Yet, whenever i would crave some of these foods he would call me fat. Constantly told me I’d gain weight from eating all that junk food. Saying that to someone with an eating disorder is crazy. Other smaller things were that whenever I would post tiktoks where i was lip syncing or just looking good he would yell at me and say i was looking for attention. Same with Instagram or Twitter whenever i would post photos where I looked hot. He never planned out a single date for us. I would beg him to get me flowers and he did maybe once but i’ll get into that in a bit. He would make fun of me in front of his friends to make himself look better. He let his friends say really degrading things about me in his presence. For example, once when i was showering, i overheard him on a discord call with George and Sapnap and i heard George say “if you don’t go in the shower and have sex with Andi, i will”. Once, when i was really struggling with my legs (for those of you who don’t know, i have arthritis and it’s very painful. at the time i wasn’t diagnosed but i was in a lot of pain) I literally could not walk. I had to beg him to take me to the ER because i didn’t know what was wrong with me. He didn’t want to take me but eventually i convinced him, and while we were there all he did was complain about how long it was taking and that he would have rather been at home streaming. Whenever I would talk about my interests that i was excited about like shows or books he would be incredibly uninterested and say that those things were stupid and he didn’t want to hear about them. I know all of these seem very silly or superficial but cumulatively it was awful.

Now for arguably the most serious thing i’m going to talk about. I want to preface this by saying i am just telling my side of what happened. You can come to your own conclusions about this.

On April 25, 2022 it was our one year anniversary, and i had made a dinner reservation for us. I expected him to plan something throughout the day for us to do. He told me he was going to spend the whole day playing Valorant so I got upset and cancelled the reservation. After a very heated argument, we calmed down and i asked him to come over. He came over about an hour later with flowers and drinks (I was 20 at the time so I couldn’t buy the drinks myself). He brought Smirnoffs and Trulys. For context, I am a lightweight. I always have been. I literally get tipsy on half a cocktail. And that day, I hadn’t eaten anything because i was in distress over our argument. So we get to talking and drinking. I blacked out after my second Smirnoff. Apparently I drank 3 but I genuinely cannot remember anything after finishing the second one. The next morning i woke up naked in my bed. I woke him up and asked him “Luke, why am I naked?” and he said “Because you didn’t want to put your clothes back on.” When I clarified to him that that was not what I meant, he got defensive and said that he didn’t realize how drunk I was. He proceeded to tell me that I initiated sex with him and that i was very enthusiastic about it. He said he didn’t know i could black out on three smirnoffs. He made fun of me for being a lightweight and continued to make light of the situation. Then he mentioned that i fell off the bed at some point in the night and that it was funny how drunk I was. I then questioned him. Because if he thought that me tripping and falling off the bed because i was so drunk was funny, how did he not know that i was too drunk? He responded by saying that i fell off the bed only after we were done. That day I broke up with him. I’m still really confused about what happened that night. I don’t remember anything and all I have to go on is what he said to me. We were in a relationship at the time and he says he didn’t know how drunk I was so I’m not sure what to call what happened. A while after that day, his friend that hmu while we were broken up and I started talking again and i confided in him about that night. He told me to be careful saying things like that because they could get me into trouble. I spoke to some of our other friends about it and they told me it was no big deal and that it wasn’t his fault that he didn’t know how drunk I really was. Because I don’t remember, I have been led to believe that this is not a serious matter. You can think what you want, come to whatever conclusions you want. That is just my side of the story.

I want to add that I’m not proud of how I acted after the relationship ended. I felt really angry at all the shit he put me through and I guess a part of me wanted him to hurt even a quarter of how I did. So I started talking to his friend and got involved with him. This backfired on me because his friend ended up really hurting me too so ig i got my karma. But the thing that hurt the most is that because of what I did, some of our friends took his side in the break up. I was told that I did something terrible by getting involved with his friend that he was already insecure about and that he didn’t deserve that. These are the same friends who were witness to the dumpster fire of a relationship we had and all the things he did to me. They turned their backs on me because of this one thing I did. But stood by and watched as he treated me like garbage for over a year.

I will conclude this by saying that while this relationship has been “over and done with” for almost two years now, I carry a lot of trauma from it still. I still talk about him in therapy and have had to put in a lot of work to heal from what he did and i still cannot say that i am okay. I am very blessed to now have a patient and understanding partner who has helped me heal from that trauma and i just want to quickly thank him for that. Nobody deserves to go through what I did. While yes, it was a toxic relationship, and I had a part in that, it does not excuse all the awful things he said and did to me. This is my truth, thank you for taking the time to read it.

[activesplooger]

| 𐂂 | 𝐑𝐮𝐭 𝐒𝐳𝐧 | 𝐃𝐨𝐞!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 | 𝐇𝐚𝐳𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝐇𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐥 | 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓 | 𐂂 |

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: FINALLY LMFAO. sorry for the wait i got a wee bit busy and took a break so yeah! here you go. btw i suck at smut! enjoy :]

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Your boyfriend enters his season! He's constantly in heat and stubbornly won't give in to his desires. As his season ends, you enter estrus, causing a hot sticky mess for the both of you!

𝐂𝐖: breeding kink behavior, possessive behavior, p in v sex, no protection, rough sex, idfk horny-ness 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3,617 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈!

It was no secret that your boyfriend is in his heat season. This became apparent when you were woken by the screeching sound of antlers rutting against the bark of a tree. You look around, the bluriness of the room fading as you wake up a bit more. Lifting your hands to your face, you rub your eyes and groggily turn towards the noise. Your eyes flicker to the bayou section of Alastor's room. Immediately, your previously groggy state disappears, eyes widening at the sight before you. "KRRRRRRRRK KRRRRRRRK KRRRRK KRRR-" "Alastor!" The scraping comes to a sudden halt as you speak. Alastor still had his back facing you hunched over beside the tree, antlers just barely inches away from the torn bark. Nearly every tree in the bayou was scraped bare of its bark, how long had he been doing this for..? Realization hits you like a truck, "Ooohhhh you're in-" "Not a word. I can control it", The Deer demon curtly states, "Go back to bed." You knew he didn't mean to be dismissive, but that didn't prevent the pang of sadness that tugged your lips downward. "Aren't you gonna come back to bed?" Alastor sighs and turns to face you, his hungry eyes boaring into yours. "Go back to bed, I'll join you later.".

Without a word, you lay back down and sigh, trying to go back to sleep without the embrace of your partner. Alastor’s expression softens, he needed some time to work through his season, he never meant to distance himself in the process.

“Goodnight, darling. I love you.”.

A smile spreads across your face, those three little words were all you needed, “I love you too, sweet dreams.”

—

Despite what the demon said, he was anything but in control of it. Alastor desperately tried to remain celibate the next few weeks of his heat season. Which, confused you because it’s not like you hadn’t had sex before or anything. And while it happens sporadically, this seemed like a good occasion to do it. All he’d have to do to get rid of his pestering urges is to fuck you, yet he remained stubborn. What’s holding him back?

When you asked him, he rambled about something along the lines of wanting his desires to be on “his terms”. In other words, he just wanted control. You rolled your eyes at this. All this trouble because of reluctance to give in to an easy-to-fix solution? ‘Whatever, it’s just a few more weeks of this…’ you thought to yourself. He hated how much he needed release, how much he craved and yearned for it. Alastor needed to be the one to decide when and where he’d want to have sex. However, with his current irresistible urges, he needed sex everywhere, all the time. As a result of this, Alastor decided it would be best if he slept in a different room for the time being. Which, again, didn't make any sense. Why couldn't he just fuck you and get it done with? But, nooo he had to be in control 24/7, leaving you lonely in the large desolate bed. You never complained, of course, despite how much you wanted to. It was frustrating sure, but, you know what it's like to be in your season so you kept your mouth shut. It had put some strain on your relationship, however, you knew it would only make things worse if you argued with him. He's tense enough already. Besides, it's only a few months out of the year! You can argue for the rest of eternity after said period. --

As time passed, the deer’s strained behavior only worsened. His animalistic instincts were kicking in and intensified. Let’s be honest, Alastor’s hygiene wasn’t the greatest (especially when it comes to dental hygiene). But, it got exponentially worse when he started smearing mud on himself to 'enhance his scent'. You knew it was all typical heat season behavior, but still, gross.

Possessiveness was another unfortunate symptom of the season. If Alastor saw another male just simply looking at you, he’d take it as a challenge. Large black tentacles would stretch out and slam whoever you were with into the nearest wall. And while, yes, it was nice to have a protective boyfriend, it certainly wasn't nice to have a daily hospital visit and apology card to whoever Alastor felt threatened by. Luckily, the season was almost over! No more hiding from Alastor when talking to another guy and having a smelly boyfriend! Yay! Everything seemed to be clearing up on its own... that was until you entered estrus.

—

“No no… Nonono…”. You mutter as you pace around the room. Just as the season was about over, you just had to enter estrus. Great. Now, not only did Alastor have to suppress his urges, you did too. Not because you wanted to, but because you didn’t want to tempt Alastor anymore than he already was.

Facing a large full body mirror, you try to to cover up any possible signs that your in your season. Your tail lays flat against your backside, and while that wasn’t the most obvious trait, you knew Alastor would figure you out easily. Pheromones were being released in heavy doses, a scent that could attract a buck from miles away. Luckily for you, Alastor’s taking a visit to the doomsday district to “Blow off some steam.” Phew.

Frantically rummaging through the closet, you look for something, anything that could hide this for him. You didn’t really have anything large enough to hide your tail, and if you did, the imprint of your tail would stick out of the fabric from the back and make it obvious. Crap.

A spare of Alastor’s coat hangs teasingly against on the other side of your shared closet. Temptation sweeps over you, making you realize just how horny you were. Hesitant hands reach out to grab the soft fabric and lift it up to your nose. ‘Fuck… Am I a pervert? Oh well.’ you think to yourself as you inhale Alastor’s scent through the fabric. Bourbon and vanilla scent hits your nose, sending shivers down your spine.

Suddenly, an idea pops into your head. You slip your arms into the coat and walk towards the mirror. The coat perfectly hid your tail and Alastor’s lingering musk on the fabric masked the scent of your pheromones. For once in your life, being kind of a pervert paid off! __

Currently, you’re sitting at the bar nursing a drink, trying to ignore how badly you want to be fucked so hard your organs rearrange. As far as hiding your physical symptoms went, it was pretty easy. But the internal turmoil was eating you alive, and not in a sexy way. Every position, sound, scenario, and feeling was being conjured in your mind as you sit there “calmly” on the barstool. Your mind was so preoccupied that you didn’t notice Alastor approaching you.

“You know darling, if you liked my clothes so much you could’ve just said so.” The deer jests.

The sudden noise startles you, snapping you out of your thoughts. “AH!” you practically jump out of your seat before realizing it’s just Alastor, “Oh! Hello love. How was the doomsday district?” His shoulders bob up and down, a soft grin on his lips, "It was fine. Very effective. Perhaps I'll be able to join you in bed tonight.". Fuck. If he slept in your room tonight, the coat will have to come off and all will be revealed. "O-Oh! Are you sure? I don't wanna pressure y-" "Nonsense, dear!" The deer interrupted with a smile, "I've had quite enough time away. I'm sure I'll be fine for a night!" "Yes, but, honey... What if your instincts take over?". You hesitantly try to put the thought of not sleeping together in his head. Alastor waves a dismissive hand, "Nonsense, dear! I'll be alright." "Honey, I don't think this is a good idea-" You stated firmly. His smile strains as his eyebrows furrow, "Why? Is there something you're hiding from me?". "No I-" "Have you grown accustomed to sleeping without me?" he accused. "No, no... Al," you reluctantly begin, "I'd love to sleep beside you again... I just wanted to be sure you were okay with it.". Lies. Well, partly. You did want to cuddle with your partner just... not with the current 'circumstances'. But now you had no choice but to find some way to hide your growing urges and instincts. -- The door shuts behind you as you walk into your room. You feel your heartbeat pick up as your palms start to moisten. 'Deep breaths, Y/N," you think to yourself, 'he won't find out... Just stay calm and act normal.'

The two of you get ready for bed: brushing your teeth (well, you are at least), washing your face, and are currently putting on PJs. You changed in the closet, away from Alastor, which he thankfully paid no mind to. After putting on a lacy nightgown, you hastily throw the coat back over your shoulders. In hindsight, this was definitely a dead giveaway that you were hiding something. But, what choice did you have? Putting on a tranquil facade, you enter the bedroom. Alastor's sitting at the edge of the bed when you walk in, finishing buttoning up his nightshirt. 'Damn, even in pajamas he's still hot as fuck' you think. You ogle at your boyfriend for a moment, heat rising in your chest. "Ah ah, dear, don't look at me like that" He playfully reminds you. His words snap you back into reality, you smile softly at him. "Sorry, sorry!" you stammer. Walking to your side of the bed, you stare directly at the floor as to not get distracted by your growing arousal. 'Keep it together Y/N!'. Alastor's eyebrows furrow, "Darling?". "Yes?" you respond. A sharp red claw gestures to the coat, "Why are you still wearing that?". "Oh!" beads of sweat form on your forehead as you clammer to find some sort of excuse "I justtttt.... get a little chilly at night! Yep, just a case of uh cold-ness... yeah...". 'God damn it... Am I fucking stupid? "Cold-ness" isn't even a word!' you mentally berate yourself. Your boyfriend turns to fully face you on the bed, "And why does it have to be my coat, hm? Can't you use one of yours?". Fidgeting with your hands nervously, you reply, "Well I just like yours! It's nice, it reminds me of you.". "Pray tell, my dear," he begins, "Why must you be reminded of me when I'm right beside you in bed?". You take a deep breath, "Well, in your... 'condition'-". "Watch it, Darling," he warns. "Right right," you sit up straighter as you become more confident in your convoluted excuse, "I just figured you wouldn't be able to handle cuddling me. In fact, you’ll probably just stay on your side of the bed all night. Hence why I wanted the coat". You feel a little prideful at your on-the-spot reasoning… until you see your boyfriend’s expression. Yeahhh, he looked pissed. Alastor's wide grin twitches, "Excuse you, Darling! I am perfectly capable of controlling myself for one night!”. “Well, then why didn’t you sleep in here for a month?!” you retort, immediately regretting it. You weren’t actually mad, just defensive. Oh well, no going back now. "That's it!" He reaches for the sleeve of your coat, pulling on it roughly. "Hey!" you exclaim. Trying (and failing) to yank the sleeve back, the coat flings off your shoulders and into Alastor's tight grip. He discards it on the floor beside the bed. Luckily, he wasn't in a position to notice your tail, however, that didn't affect your boyfriend's sense of smell... Holding his nose high in the air, he takes small quick sniffs near you, his ears twitching at the smell of your pheromones. His pupils dilate to the size of quarters, any restraint he had before was now completely gone, "My dear," He crawls toward you on all fours, making his way across the bed, "I've spent the past few months aching for release, but I've restrained myself...". You inch backward away from him, "Alastor... Be rational... You've tried so hard, I don't want you to regret this.". As soon as you finish speaking, you inch too far off the bed and suddenly fall back, eliciting a yelp. A slender arm reaches out to grab yours, lifting you up and saving you from the fall. Alastor pulls on your arm, lifting you up so that your faces were inches apart. He takes a deep breath in, the scent of pheromones filling his nose. His eyes bore into you with a hungry, desperate, gaze, lips slightly parted as his breath grows heavier. “My dear… I would never regret making love to you… If I did have any regrets, it would be that I didn’t do this sooner…”.

Half lidded eyes meet his lustful gaze, “Your sure about this?”. Alastor’s eyes linger on your lips as he speaks, his voice low and raspy, “I’ve restrained myself for far too long… I would hate to you holding back as well. This has been a long time coming, darling, and now…”. Reaching over, his lips teasingly brush against your ear as he whispers,”I’m taking whats mine.”.

You cradle his face in your hands, thumb brushing over his flushed cheeks. Suddenly, he captures your lips in a firm kiss. The tender kisses turn sloppier, his tongue swiping past your lips asking for entry. As soon as your lips part, his long slender tongue slides against yours. You moan against his lips at the feeling which only fuels his desire more. Intertwining your tongue with his, his hand cards through your hair at the back of your head, pulling you closer. The kiss deepens, drawing out a stifled moan from Alastor. You position yourself so you’re straddling his lap, his boner poking against your thigh.

As the two of you make out, you slowly roll your clothed core against the tent in his pants. Alastor pulls back from the kiss, his head jerking down into the crook of your neck. “Darling,” his large hands grip your hips, keeping them from moving, "I have a better idea...". He lifts his head back up and instantly closes the distance between the two of you. Your tongues intertwine and sloppily kiss one another, your lips lubricated with his saliva.

He moves his hands to the straps of your nightgown. The thin silky straps gently pull off your shoulders. Alastor places his palm under your elbow and pushes up gently, a silent way of asking you to put your arms up. You oblige and lift your arms followed by Alastor briefly breaking the kiss and slipping the nightgown over your head. His eyes rake over your almost naked body. One of his large hands reaches out to cup your breast. The sudden contact sends a shiver down your spine. His thumb brushes over your nipple, the bud hardening at his cold touch. Meanwhile, his other hand travels down your body and hooks his finger under the lacy thong. Stretching the lace strap, a soft hum escapes his lips. Your breath quickens as you eagerly await his next move, needing his touch and release.

Unhooking his finger, he moves his hand to the damp spot on the underside of your thong. A breathy moan escapes your lips, "Fuck, Alastor... Don't tease.". Removing his hands, he holds them up in a gesture of surrender, "Can't handle a bit of foreplay, darling?". "Hush" you reply, your hands working to unbutton his nightshirt. Once unbuttoned, you toss the shirt off to the side and gaze at his toned torso. "See something you like?" he jests. You playfully roll your eyes and get to work on sliding off his pajama pants. Once his pants are off, his aching member frees the confines of the fabric, his tail twitching in anticipation. Alastor shudders at the cold air hitting his throbbing, erect cock. Your gaze tears away from his dick and meets his face. His eyes are half-lidded with a deep shade of pink dusting his cheeks, mouth slightly agape as he pants heavily. "What? Can't handle a bit of foreplay?" you tease.

Alastor's eyebrows furrow, a tight-lipped grin forming on his face, "You know what? No, I can't.". In a swift motion, he grabs you by the waist and tosses you on the bed. As your stomach hits the cold dark red comforter, you make a small "oof!" sound. Alastor's hands slither to both sides of your waist and lift you gently, propping you up on your hands and knees. A slender finger slides against the drenched folds of your pussy, a single digit dipping into your tight center. You let out a soft pleasured gasp at the feeling. As much as you enjoyed this, it only made you crave more. He tantalizingly pulls out his finger and brings it to his lips, sucking your juices off it. Pulling the finger out with a satisfying 'pop', he leans over your body. His chest presses against your back as he whispers in a husky low tone, "My my, little doe... You taste divine.". A needy whimper escapes your throat as your dripping cunt aches to be filled.

He kisses his way down your back, leaving a final kiss at the base of your perked-up tail before lifting his head back up. Alastor gently spreads the beads of pre-cum around his dick for extra lubrication, not that you needed, it of course. Large hands clutch the sides of your hips, claws dimpling your supple skin. Pre-cum and saliva from his hands spreads onto your skin, the moist texture making your stomach flutter. -- Alastor aligns his shaft with your opening, gradually penetrating you. A choked gasp leaves your mouth as he stretches you out, filling your needy cunt. After a bit of getting used to his length, he slowly thrusts into you. "That's it, little doe," he coos, "taking me so well... You'll look great as a mother".

Alastor pants heavily as he continues to rut into you, his pace picking up as he reaches closer and closer to a climax. Sparks of pleasure hit your core and he enters you at a rough tempo. "Mmph~ Al... That's it- D-Don't stop." you whimper. "Stop?" he begins, sliding into you at a more rigorous pace, "Wouldn't dream of it... After all, I couldn't leave my precious doe without filling her properly couldn't I?". Pleasure clouds your mind, all you can respond with is a cry of satisfaction. "Ah ah ah, use your words dear. Tell me how much you crave my seed.". "Need you to fill me... Need it so bad... Please..." you mumble, focused more on your approaching climax. Your words encourage Alastor further, thrusting into you deeper and hitting spots you didn't even know could be reached. His pelvis slams against your clit, sending sparks through your already trembling pussy. He speaks through strangled grunts and pants, "That's right, my doe, I'm gonna fill you over and over until you're filled with my fawns...". His large hands travel from your hips up to your chest, cupping your breasts in his hands. Mewling at the added pleasure, his thumb and index finger rolled the sensitive buds in his hands. "These would look so nice and pretty when they're swelled with milk, don't you think?". His dick slams into you at a ruthless pace. The sounds of skin slapping against skin along with moans and grunts of pleasure filled the air. Alastor takes a deep breath in, inhaling the scent of pheromones. His pupils widened further, his primal instincts kicking in. Releasing your tender breasts, he lifts your thigh up over his shoulder to get a new angle. His cock drills into you at a ruthless tempo, "Gotta - Nnnph~ make sure my seed's deep inside you... Gonna- load my fawns into you...". You feel your stomach tighten as you reach your release, "Al- M'gonna-". As your orgasm washes over you, hot loads of cum fill your greedy pussy. Your cunt clenches around his drenched cock as he rides out your orgasm. His pace gradually declines as the pleasure begins to fade. Alastors upper body goes limp from his climax, torso resting against your back. The two of you take a moment to catch your breath, panting heavily as he remains buried inside of you. After taking a beat, he pulls out of you. Cum spills of your cunt, loads of semen dripping down your folds and onto the bedding below. "You've made quite the mess my dear." he jests breathlessly, plunging a finger into your pussy to keep the seed from spilling, "Though, we can't let this go to waste, hm? I wasn't joking when I said you'd make a lovely mother.". You chuckle wearily and plop onto the mattress.

Rolling over onto your back, Alastor grabs the discarded clothes and helps you put your pajamas back on. He slips the silk gown back on you and presses a kiss to your forehead, "You did so well, my beautiful doe...". A smile stretches across your face at the praise. Returning the favor, you help him dress as well - buttoning up his night shirt and sliding his pants back on.

His arms wrap around your stomach as he pulls you into a loving embrace. Alastor bundles the two of you in the dark red comforter, spooning you and nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. "I love you, Alastor" you whisper. "I love you too, darling. Sweet dreams.". With a final kiss pressed onto your cheek, you both drift off to a pleasant slumber.

—

YAYAYAYYA i tried rlly hard so if u dont like it then FUCK U (jk). but yeah i hope u like ittt. pls leave feedback guys :,) good or bad idfc but i rlly wanna improve and feedback is important for that!!! i hope u liked it :) i meant for the smut to be longer tbh, sorry if it wasnt as long as u were hoping. im still new at this so I tried to keep it short and sweet. I felt as if i kept it too long the quality would decline and that sucks so :/ hope u liked ittt!!!!! also i didnt edit this bc im tired lol but if u see a mistake point it out

𝐁𝐔𝐓: 𝐅𝐔𝐍 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐓, 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐑𝐔𝐓, 𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐎…. 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐖𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐔𝐏 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍??? 𝐋𝐌𝐊

__

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @l3rittany, @sirens-and-moonflowers, @ratsematary, @reath-solia, (if i missed anyone I'm so sorry)

[chubby-bun-bun]

untitled (part 3)

You reunite with your crow friend! But it seems to need your help with… a man?

nav: one, two, three (current), four, five, six or: read on ao3

tags: sylus x reader, an au where you're an average citizen, slow burn, hurt/comfort, angst, mentions of blood and death, descriptions of a panic attack, bossman is here yay

“Congratulations! You’ve just won the loyal customer raffle at Linkon Supermarket!”

“But I shop at Bloomshore Mart.”

“Yup, congratulations!”

You furrow your brows, eyeing the paper the delivery driver is enthusiastically waving in your face. Sure enough, it announces the conclusion of the famous supermarket’s year-end raffle, and there it is: your full government name printed neatly under “winner.”

Beyond his shoulder, you notice the other worker unloading boxes from the delivery truck. He’s dressed in the same uniform, with identical dark curls and also sporting a black face mask. He catches your gaze and gives a lazy thumbs-up.

There must be something wrong with your memory, because you could swear you haven’t stepped foot in Linkon Supermarket in years—let alone registered for their raffle. That place isn’t exactly known for catering to the humbler economic classes.

And it’s still 5:30 a.m. Have supermarkets always done graveyard shift deliveries?

“Thanks…” You squint at the driver’s name tag. “…Lukas.”

“No problem!”

Once the two workers finish unloading and stacking boxes of who-knows-what in your living room, they wave cheerfully before speeding off down the street. Half-asleep, you manage only a bemused wave in return.

You think you might’ve been cursed. Or blessed. It’s hard to say. Because ever since your crow friend escaped a week ago, it feels like you’ve already blown through a lifetime’s worth of luck.

In the span of days, you’ve gotten a raise and better employee benefits (odd, considering you’re still just an assistant manager), won lifetime vouchers for three of your favorite food spots, and now, apparently, won a supermarket raffle—complete with at least three months’ worth of groceries.

Rummaging through the boxes, you find they’re stocked with all your usual brands. Snacks, non-perishables, beauty products, household items—everything. Even fresh produce.

For the first time in a while, you won’t have to worry about going hungry.

—

You’re not sure why you’ve come back to the park tonight.

It’s late, and you’ve already visited the crows earlier, spoiling them with extra bags of peanuts thanks to your recent streak of good fortune.

The crows seem to wonder the same thing. While they peck enthusiastically at the peanuts, their beady eyes occasionally flick toward you, as if to silently judge your lack of anything resembling a social life.

Admittedly, you’ve been hoping to see your crow friend again.

You think you’re starting to come to terms with its disappearance. Life goes on, right? It’s just an animal, after all. It probably doesn’t feel the same complex emotions humans do—the kind that have you so affected by its absence after only a few days of sharing a space. (Maybe it was a one-sided friendship all along...) It probably just followed its instincts, leaving to do whatever it is that lone crows do.

Still, a petulant part of you feels bitter. Sure, it left behind a hoard of treasures—trinkets, gems, and gold so polished they must be real (though you’re not ready to think about where it might have stolen them)—but it could’ve at least waited for you to come home before flying off.

In hindsight, maybe it’s a good thing you never had pets. Your apparent abandonment issues would be a nightmare to deal with if they got lost, ran away, or died.

Suddenly, a familiar series of shrill caws pierces the air. Before you can process what’s happening, something crashes into your lap, a blur of loose black feathers hitting your face.

Could it be…?

The unmistakable garnet glint in the midnight-feathered avian’s eyes confirms it. Without hesitation, you scoop the bird into your arms, pulling it tightly to your chest, and press a rough, enthusiastic kiss to its head.

“Where have you been?” you exclaim, laughing as you nuzzle the void-like creature against your cheek, smothering it in an embrace. “I’ve been so worried about you!”

Its muffled caws are drowned out by your babbling. “Oh gosh—your wing! How is it?” you say, quickly pulling back to inspect it.

Its feathers look good—healthy, even. In fact, they almost seem brand new, gleaming like a freshly unboxed gadget. Its once-injured left wing no longer looks broken—or as you’d thought before, no longer resembling a mechanical part with a loose screw.

Before you can start fussing over it again, the bird suddenly wriggles free from your grasp and lands steadily on your lap. It caws again, but something’s different. It’s louder, more piercing—frantic. It paces across your lap, continuing to practically scream at you, as if trying to tell you something.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” you ask, your heart squeezing at the sight of its feathers puffing up with each stressed caw.

You try to pat its head, hoping to calm it down, but it jumps off your lap and lands on the ground, still cawing. The other crows, clearly spooked by its urgent cries, start to scatter. Bewildered, you bend down, attempting to scoop it into your arms again, but it evades you by hopping a few feet away, still cawing—loudly.

“What is it?” you say, exasperated. I can’t speak crow!

You step closer, bending down once more, but it hops away—again.

You stare up at the heavens. This has to be some cosmic joke. You can’t believe you’re playing this strange version of tag with a bird.

You don’t even realize how far you’ve walked, now a good distance from the bench you were sitting on. You’ve reached the darker area of the park, still desperate to grab the cawing bird and figure out what’s wrong. Then, without warning, your foot catches on a tree root. You stumble, and before you can recover, you hit the cold, wet ground with an unceremonious thud.

“Well, there goes my good luck streak,” you mutter, trying to push yourself up. Good thing nobody’s around to witness your embarrassing lack of coordination.

“Tell me about it.”

The sudden presence of a deep, unfamiliar voice makes you freeze. Heart pounding wildly, you scramble to sit up, eyes darting toward the source.

It wasn’t a tree root you tripped over. It was a leg—a stretched-out leg attached to a man slumped against one of the park’s statues. A huge, beautiful man, with silver hair and a pair of breathtaking garnet eyes, half-lidded and filled with amusement. He’s clutching his abdomen, the fabric there soaked in dark, ominous red.

Blood.

A field of red datura blooms. A starry night sky with the clouds beneath you. Mountains of gold against jagged walls. A burning plaza. A bloodied claymore.

You don’t register the ringing in your ears or the flash of blurry, unfamiliar images racing through your mind. Your gaze remains locked on the man’s injury. Before you know it, you’re shrugging off your puffer jacket and sweater. Now clad in just your turtleneck, you drop to your knees and press your sweater firmly against his wound.

You, waiting for your turn to walk on stage to receive your diploma. A university staff member rushing toward you. You, running out of the graduation venue. Two totaled SUVs. Three dead bodies.

Your pulse pounds in your ears as you work methodically. Stop the bleeding. Stop the blood. Apply pressure. That’s what you’re supposed to do, right? Just keep pressing. Don’t think about how much there is. Don’t panic. You fold the sweater tighter against the wound. Okay, stop the bleeding first. That’s all you know. Just keep the pressure steady. He’s losing too much. Is this enough? Should I tie it off? No, just keep pressing. Keep him alive.

The edges of your vision begin to blur. You have to save them. You have to save him. They can’t leave you. He can’t leave you. Not again.

“Sweetheart.”

The word, softly spoken, snaps you out of your trance. Your eyes lift to meet his, and the world seems to still. You’ve never met this man in your life, but the way he looks at you—it hurts. It feels like an ancient grief has surfaced from the depths of your soul.

You finally notice the state you’re in. You’re shaking. Badly. The cold winter air bites into your skin, sharp and unforgiving. Your palms are scraped from your earlier fall, but you hardly register the sting. The man’s hands—large and warm—enclose your trembling ones, grounding you.

And it’s like you’ve never known peace until this very moment.

note: can u tell the extent of my yearning to be spoiled with groceries LMAO

nav: one, two, three (current), four, five, six or: read on ao3

check out my other works!

[scarlettmurphy]

STARCROSSED PT3 +ੈ✩‧₊˚ LOGAN HOWLETT

logan and y/n — starcrossed in every universe. the forbidden love, the underlying emotions swallowing y/n whole as she sees the man older then her own father by a good century or so in love with the woman she hates and she finds herself in a situation she knows she’ll never be able to run from.

- content warning age gap (is legal) angst. swearing. explicit. comfort! drinking. sick. dirty humour. choking. drugs. comfort? body issues. implications of ed. nsfw. angst angst and angst..pairings: older!logan howlett x xavier!reader. logan howlett x jean grey? scott summers x ?

spoiler: my idea was to make this a bit happier.. mission failed ☹️

note this is part three to starcrossed, make sure you’ve read the first two first so it makes sense :) the angst is angsting and i’m a little scrambled for what direction to go with this.. sorry for the long wait 💕i’m a bit insecure about this piece because i had a little writers block so i really hope you like it! i was listening to silver springs on repeat! so you get the vibes ☹️☹️ enjoy reading and i know this super long, sorry !! 💗💗

tags — @faceache111 @malfoys-demigod @navs-bhat @dilfismz @thisbipuff-isaswiftie @twinky-wink @thewiselionessss @thecraziestcrayon @plasticbottleholder @awhoreforalotofshows @emily-b @jae48 @cxptainbuck @444st4rg1rl @iluvloganhowlett @luusecret @bratalina @penguinsravioli @aesthetic-lyss @capswife @cliffordmess @halepack2011 @1-800-local-whore @lonelytealover @deezsnurts @angelofthorr @badbishsblog @weallhaveadestiny @hizzielover @noventev @holysmokesmando @la-diabla1 @sarnbarnes @lunalixya @danicl25

[i hope u like it!]

logan hadn’t moved an inch the entire night — you could’ve assumed he was a statue with how trained he was just to focus on y/n. every movement she made, every little occasional whimper or noise that escaped her sweet lips as she slept. his mind was spinning with thoughts as he bit down on his cheek mentally battling with himself as he thought to scott’s words that he had yelled at him a few hours before and what he said being enough to hit him with the small reality that the girl in front of him could of seen him in a way that he hadn’t completely processed or imagined was a possibility. scott’s words ringing in his mind as he has spent the entire night tossing and turning in the bed trying to dissect what he exactly meant by them, and he’d gotten an idea.

an idea he didn’t wanna admit to himself even though all his thoughts linked back to it. he swallowed it deep down, his heart beat quickening as he wondered over the thoughts circling in his mind. he was certain something was growing in him after knowing the knowledge a strong feeling taking over all his urges. maybe it was fear, he was pretty sure it was and he hated the feeling. in every way.

amd it was be caused by y/n. he knew it no matter how much he didn’t wanna admit that his friend, the girl that was a good 150 and something years younger then him was causing. the professors daughter— he had practically just got here two years ago and he didn’t need to be stirring up shit with charles because off his daughter who was practically underage, especially in his eyes. logan swallowing as he slowly come to the terms that the little girl, in his eyes who hardly looks that little anymore, next to him could see him in a completely different way. a way he never thought would be something in her mind.

slowly the time passed as light slowly dawned into the room which shone a sweet reflecting on y/n’s face as her skin soaked up the sunlight as logan brung his gaze up to the ceiling, his thoughts getting too much to bare as he leant into his pocket and pulled out a cigar. hating the fact it was so hard for him to control, fighting those feelings brewing in him as he slowly stood up from the bed being extra cautious to be quiet about it despite his big body making the bed quiver under him as he walked over to the window opening it slightly — a little extra cautious over y/n and smoking around her in this state as he looked back over to the view off her sleeping.

he hated how soft he was currently feeling because of her, the emotions stirring in him something he hadn’t even remembered ever feeling before. he felt like a big baby, smoking out the window all because of the kid. logan taking a big inhale as he watched the sun come up. soon enough finishing the cigar whilst overlooking the scenery,him finding himself stuck in thought as he leant against the wall as he brung his gaze back to y/n after throwing the put out butt out the window, his mind wracking around what just to do or if he should or leave or stay.

however, logan didn’t get the chance to decide when y/n’s eyes fluttered open as she tossed a little as the cover slid off her figure as she slowly woke up realising the fact she was still in the outfit from the night before as she could smell the faint bit of sick which made her let out a low groan as her mind was a complete blur, her being instantly met with a horrible headache as she buried her face into her pillow completely unbeknownst to logan’s presence. the headache only getting worse as she tried to recall what had happened the night before — the one downside of being a mutant of her power being the fact that hangovers hit like a wwe fighter would.

her mind stopping recalling anything after the time logan had walked away from the bar and left her with wade and hank — her mind slowly coming to terms with the shots.. the many shots.. the little burst of confidence she had as logan kept himself silent as he watched the girl stir awake not wanting to alert y/n off his presence just yet, deep down him knowing he wouldn’t of been able to speak anyway as he was too taken by her, not wanting to stop his little gawking as he watched her come to reality.

y/n’s heart felt as if it was burning as she recalled what she had seen with logan and jean — that hole inside her that was always lingering growing wider per second as she wished to suppress the memories now. god she wished she was more blackout then she had been. her mind feeling like a very hazy floaty mess as did her body currently.

y/ns mind bringing itself onto the little run she had out the mansion, hangover anxiety flowing over her as she felt her face heat up at the memory as her heart flipped at the thought of what she swore she could recall about scott of all people being nice? to her? at that she rolled out a little curse under her breath as she fought to keep her eyes closed against the pillow as all she wanted was so be swallowed hole as the heart ache that truly had never left and was only pushed to the side last night felt harsher then ever at the faded image off logan she had in her brain as she swallowed, her stomach making a loud gurgle noise as she felt the sick feeling coarse back up from her.

with that logan couldn’t be quiet anymore, him taking a step and just with the sound of his footsteps that made y/n open her eyes and look up as she met logan’s gaze from across the room herself instantly jumping as she felt completely fucked from the night before and his presence was the last thing she needed.

“y/n—“ logan spoke quietly, some of his emotion present within his tone as he immediately swallowed that back down, stomaching a smile in her direction as he made his way over to the edge of the bed. “are you okay?” he added out in an almost rushed way as y/n’s heart pounded as fast as her head was in the moment as she looked at him — her not even wanting to even know how bad she must’ve looked right now as she shook her head.

her low words coming out as fast as she had probably ever spoken before, “i think im going to be sick.” she rolled out under her breath, her words coming out in a heavy whisper as she quickly got out of bed and rushed to the bathroom. y/n fighting the blurry feeling that overtook her vision as she knelt down to the bathroom toilet — her dizziness just making the sick worse as she leaned down to the toilet bowl as she let it come out. logan running after her the second she stood up that worried feeling growing as he stood at the door watching as she knelt down.

“fucking hell.” he cursed out under his breath as he spoke gruffly as he took a few steps over to her as he knelt down beside her as she was sick. his face forming a harsh grimace as he bit down on his tongue as his large hand fell to her back as he tried to soothe her as he looked away as she was sick again. him swallowing as he tried to control his anger that was growing in the bottom of his stomach for the state she had gotten in, pushing down scott’s words that lingered in his mind along with the question of why you would drink yourself into that state as if he didn’t already know the answer deep down.

“i’m gonna fucking kill hank and wade.” logan rumbled out as a gruff sigh escaped his lips as he took in y/n’s shakiness. hating how she must’ve felt in the moment as he moved his hand up and down her spine as she let out a shaky breath. the comfort making y/n’s hurt inside grow more and more as she stumbled out a quick, “i’m never drinking again.”

her words making a low chuckle escape logan’s lips as he nodded slowly his hand not moving as he used his other hand to move some of her hair behind her ear in a swift motion that only reminded y/n off a bit more from last night as she was sick again. logan swallowing down his anger and feelings as he knew he had to be there for her right now.

“—it’s just a bad hangover bub.” logan calmly stated, his thoughts becoming nothing but void to him as he had all his worry’s right now on her as he watched as she leaned down a little to the toilet bowl, him being able to tell how out of it she was still just by that action as currenlty y/n’s mind was a mixture of haziness and hurt as the words she was trying to mumble out got cut off by that sick feeling again which she swallowed right back down as she fought with herself.

“—‘m never had one like this before.” she cursed out before being sick yet again as his hand lingered on her lower back as he could hear the fear in her voice, a protective feeling growing all through his body he knew exactly what that meant for himself and he hated it which is why his voice sounded a little cold as he moved his hand off her, leaning a little closer to her as he grabbed a small cloth for her to use in a second before placing that on the side next to them.

his hand moving back over to her hair as he made sure it wasn’t getting in her face at all as his cold words hit the air, “that’s what happens when you take shots all night, especially the amount you and wade were taking.”

y/m swallowed roughly as she could overhear his change in tone which made her feel like even more a mess as she spoke up shakily, “sorry—“ and with y/n’s words logan felt a flurry of guilt within him as he shook his head releasing the harshness he was showing which he didn’t even mean too as he sighed.

“don’t be.” he eventually spoke up, his words falling to a cold room as he watched as y/n leant back a little his hands following her as she leant against the wall. his had sipping off her waist as he swept his touch away and grabbed the cloth he had gotten ready for her so she could wipe her mouth. swallowing as she took it from his grip as y/n felt her self pity growing just by seeing his darkened eyes on her as she wiped her mouth with the cloth gently. herself feeling completely disgusting.

y/n watching as logan flushed the toilet to get rid of all the sick that was in there whilst y/n sat there swallowing down her self pity, hating how everything was feeling. being sick here in front of him of all people. she’d rather scott be here, probably even jean, god why wasn’t scott here? why was logan here? what was he doing in her bedroom?

her mind was boiling with questions as she brung her eyes to his own, her gaze locking on his soft brown eyes with that everso hint of green within them that just reminded her of everything she loved about him. the hint off melancholy she always viewed in his gaze still there which just made the pull he had in her twenty million times stronger as it always had been as she couldn’t help the little nervous smile that grew on her lips as she nervously chuckled with her feelings enlaced within her action.

“god i’m a mess.” she retorted out, logan playfully tapping her shoulder at her words as his touch lingered against her skin as he kept his gaze on her.

— “least you’re a pretty one.” he replied almost immediately with a teasing smile showcased on his lips as he grabbed the cloth from her hand and put it over the toilet, y/n swallowing her feelings. his words hit y/n like a heavy, full of metal and being thrown at her by magneto, truck as she could just picture the blush that grew on her face from one silly meaningless comment from him she shouldn’t read too much since she didn’t have a good track record with that especially since what she roughly recalled him doing yesterday as she swallowed due to his words as she could still feel his touch on her own even if it wasn’t there.

the yearning in her practically breaking as she felt that tension stir in her stomach as her brain told her one thing yet her heart was aching to be nothing like she has been for the last two weeks to him no matter how much she shouldn’t be as she kept her gaze on him.

y/n was struggling to find the right words with so many question in her brain and luckily logan instead did for her after the moment of silence had passed, him swallowing roughly before doing so, “you okay now?” his words low as he felt the tension grow in the air silently battling himself from creating it within himself too as logan’s eyes studied y/n as he kept himself knelt down in front of the girl who was sat on the floor — not wanting to leave her side but knowing he should. knowing he shouldn’t be like this with her now, here.

her managing a nod back, “should be.”

her low words caused a feeling to grow in him, ”you will be kid,” he corrected, giving her a serious look.

y/n finding this tension and almost awkwardness grow between the two of them as she moved her gaze away from him, sitting up a little as she soon found her words. “what are you doing here?” she couldn’t help ask, “i don’t remember why.”

logan roughly sighed with her words as he stood up, looking down at her as he went over and leaned against the door. needing the distance between them for his own peace of mind as he spoke after she had finished. “i couldn’t leave you alone last night. i was worried after seeing how drunk you were.”

his words were like a little shock of realisation for y/n as she nodded over the obviousness of it as she moved her gaze onto him, her eyes casted onto him from across the room. hating the weirdness that was growing them as she noted how much it was coming from him. she’d most definitely have to remember soon or else it would be time to dive into someone’s mind.

“i remember scott being here but not you.” she muttered out as logan nodded at her words.

“yeah. well we were both helping.” logan blurted out under his breath, sounding a little pissed off as he opened the bathroom door, “you should shower— i’ll go get you something to eat.” the built up tension and guilty thoughts in his mind eating half the words he wanted to say.

“food might sent me over the edge.” y/n mumbled out lowly, logan knowing the truth underlying her words as he swallowed his own spit feeling those feelings thrive within him as he sighed at the girl who he hadn’t really seen eat a meal if it wasn’t some weird protein recipe, he recalled jean used to have all the time, for the past four months.

“well— just shower okay?” he grunted out as y/n nodded in reply as he closed the bathroom door behind himself. y/n soon hearing her bedroom door close a few seconds later as she let out a rough exhale as she felt like the weight fell right off her shoulders — instantly curling herself into a tiny little ball as she rested her head on her knees as she tried to recall everything as her head pounding just grew worse. rough was not enough to describe the mental and physical anguish she was feeling right now, her having blacked out most of the night and that specific fact irritated her to another level as she knew she’d have to go find scott and get what he knew out of him.

another embarrassing conversation with a guy she never saw eye to eye with and thought was a little bit off a stuck up mug who turned out to be the nicest thing ever to her last night — to say she was embarassed was an understatement as she eventually dragged herself into the shower as she pondered over all the things she knew.

+ੈ✩‧₊˚

the shower was too much and too little, the burning water against her skin making her feel a number of things as the pain brung her to the surface of reality as her mind bubbled within the surface of everything as the pain of the water against her soft skin quieted the pain in her heart and mind - her hair falling against her back as the water swallowed her skin whole.

her breath shaky as the tears that slipped down her cheeks were just water dripping down her to any other’s eyes, would’ve gone unnoticed, as she eventually finished her shower after a few ten or so minutes of soaking up all the emotions within the air that had been left and abandoned on that swing set she had the faint recollection off from last night.

y/n wrapping the towel around herself as she pushed through the bathroom door as she made her way through her room as she slid into the first thing she saw in her wardrobe. jeans and a red top - the basic of the basic — as she didn't even want to look in the mirror for fear of what she looked like but she bit that urge down and went right over to the mirror, over analysing every inch off herself as she tried not to let that feeling grow inside her because she knew she had things to do. tearing her eyes away from the mirror as she made her way out her room.

avoiding the glances she was getting from some students as she tried to forget her thoughts as she completely pushed past her discomfort on her way towards scott’s room, it of course being the biggest one in the mansion, y/n knocking on the door as she swallowed her own spit as the door opened revealing a stressed looking jean whose eyes instantly darkened at the sight of the girl.

just meeting the older woman’s gaze sent a chill down y/n’s spine as she definitely didn’t expect to see her and wasn’t ready to in the mind state she currently possessed. that feeling off jealously, aching, yearning and a mixture of pain swelling up through her mind and body as she saw the pure confusion that overtook jean’s face at her presence.

jean’s eyebrows furrowing as she leant against the doorframe, arms crossed, “y/n?” she questioned, her voice full off confusion as y/n felt the tension rise between them.

“hi.” y/n rolled out as she gave jean a little nod off greeting as she fought back the hurt within her at just how she looked so perfect this early as she held back her emotions with a small very fake smile, “is scott here?”

“you want too see scott?” jean asked puzzled, y/n seeing the weird look riddled on her face as she nodded slowly.

“yeah, well i need too.” y/n trailed out, seeing the way jean’s confusion grew as her jaw clenched. her seemingly jealous over this as y/n watched as her tongue clicked to the root of her mouth as she nodded slowly.

“scott!” jean called out into the bedroom when she leaned back, looking into the room where y/n couldn’t see as she felt just how awkward it was right now. y/n’s eyebrows furrowing as jean called for him again, her voice raising more as there was a faint sound of water turning off. probably the shower. then what followed was the found of a door opening, y/n’s eyes remaining on jean as she watched as she took a step back and opened the door some more as scott stepped next to her.

y/n’s eyes falling onto a very shirtless half naked scott, a towel wrapped lowly around his waist as y/n instantly swallowed harshly as she took in the sight.

his v-line showing as there was still water droplets dripping down his very toned abs — y/n immediately being taken aback by seeing scott like that as she felt her stomach flutter as she swallowed harshly once again — his hair was wet and messy and he had just shaved clearly. y/n taking in the new stubble as his new look made many things switch in her brain as he met y/n’s gaze after she had eventually looked to his face and not his abs, that not exactly being something she wanted to do.

“y/n?” scott exclaimed, his words somewhat a question as jean took a step back as she sent y/n a look scott didn’t pick up on due to his eyes only being on her as jean disappeared into the bedroom. scott taking a step forward as the door went with him, him standing between the door and her as she swallowed again finding herself sort of at a loss for words. him leaning against the doorframe as y/n’s eyes cascaded up and down him yet again as she roughly swallowed at the sight.

that’s when she caught glimpse of something, her eyes falling on a certain wound on his side, her eyebrows instantly raising as she practically forgot about how hot he was when she realised the cut. leaning over to get a better view off it as she took in the evident claw marks that looked like it hurt like a bitch, logan clearly having done that — the blood practically still fresh and she could feel her blood boil at the thought.

“what the?” y/n instantly let out as she took the cut in as she leaned a little closer to look at it, “why—?”

“i hurt him back.” he said lowly, y/n giving him a knowing look as that was probably the most scott thing he could’ve said as she leaned back to where she was standing before. a weird feeling growing within her as she scoffed.

“obviously— but why the hell did he do that for?” y/n managed out as she questioned him, scott taking a breath before looking back into the bedroom and swallowing. a weirdness growing between the pair as y/n’s eyes couldn’t help fall back and linger on his abs as he looked away before she met his eyes before she got caught doing so.

“just, let me get dressed and then we’ll talk.” scott thought out as y/n had to hold herself back from making a stupid comment as she nodded, about to speak up when scott did instead.

“meet me at the swings. but it might smell like sick.” scott rolled out slyly, a little playful hint to his words as y/n rolled her eyes.

“ha.ha.” y/n said sarcastically as scott couldn’t the grin grow on his lips as y/n turned on her heel.

“—i’ll be there in five!” he called after her.

+ੈ✩‧₊˚

y/n went right over to the swings as little faded memories popped back into her brain regarding these swings and her last encounter on them as her brows furrowed up in confusion as her mind lingered on the thoughts as scott came down the courtyard. y/n’s eyes drawing onto him wearing a cable knit sweater like usual, this one being a dark shade of red almost matching with her top, as she kept her gaze on him as couldn’t help but smile.

“he was being an asshole like usual.” scott swiftly let out as took his seat next to her on the swing, pushing himself of it a bit as y/n’s eyes followed him as she leaned against the chain — the sun shining down on the courtyard, a vast difference from the night before.

“—mm i think i need a bit more then that.” y/n said softly as scott couldn’t help the smirk grow on his lips at her words.

“well what do you remember?” he replied back cockily, making a shiver of anxiety coarse through her as a little uncomfortable feeling dawned over her as she shrugged her shoulders, “a whole lot of drinking, then i remember you and me sat here but not much off what i said, must’ve been something stupid.”

scott raised an eyebrow at her words as he bit the bullet in telling her the truth, swallowing before he spoke up.

“your love for logan isn’t stupid. like mine for jean’s isn’t.” he whispered honestly, y/n feeling his words sink in harshly as she found all the urges to speak get swept away from her as she roughly swallowed. the tension growing within the air as y/n felt her heart beat twenty times faster and feel like it was breaking.

“you can’t help who you love.” he added out, y/n feeling his gaze as she eventually turned her eyes to him only to look right back away.

she couldn’t bring herself to glance one more time his way as she looked over at the mansion as she felt the weight of conversation dawn on her heavily as the uncomforbaility grew in her at just the thought of scott knowing how much she did like love logan. y/n’s eyes dropping down to the floor as she finally spoke up after a couple twenty or thirty seconds of silence, “i want too though, it’s not like i wanna love him.” y/n lowly whispered out before she took a pause, feeling the weight bare on her again as she tried to speak about something else to avoid saying anything more heart wrenching and slightly embarrassing which made herself feel worse,”—and i’m sorry you had to hear whatever i rambled out last night.” scott’s eyes lingering on her with her words before he tore his eyes away towards the mansion.

he could practically feel her heart ache as if it was burning into him and he couldnt help the sad smile spread on his lips as he knew how much it hurt first hand, so he wanted to make her feel better. “no—it was sort of enjoyable.” scott said lowly, making y/n’s eyebrows raise in interest as she finally met his gaze. his words being different from the sad ones he spoke before as their eyes locked on each other.

“sorry does me being a crying drunk mess entertain you?” y/n said lowly, her voice rooted in low sarcasm as scott chuckled.

“no it’s just you’re a lot sweeter when you’re shitfaced.” scott brung himself to say as y/n’s eyebrow twitched up, giving him a little look as she felt her heart skip a beat — her eyebrows raising at his statement as his words made her forget for a moment the manner of this conversation.

“hey i can be sweet sober.” y/n scoffed out, her words causing scott to raise an eyebrow in a playful manner.

“yeah, what? to logan?” his low words made her roll her eyes as scott chuckled as y/n leaned over her swing and nudged his shoulder harshly before she moved her swing back — the playful energy that had grew between them making her feel comfortable.

“shut up.” y/n scoffed out as scott laughed a little harder nudging her back before y/n couldn’t help a little laugh too as she met his gaze.

“so you and jean this morning?” y/n couldn’t help ask which made scott let out a low sigh as y/n pushed on it a little more with a smile at his reaction, ”—not so done after what i saw..?” she trailed out, giving him a look.

scott grimaced a little at the memory / reminder of it as he swallowed, his voice low with anger enlaced within it as he spoke a bit coldly. “oh no, we’re done. engagement rings back.”

y/n’s mouth fell agap as she met scott’s gaze, her heart twitching and almost stinging for the man as she raised an eyebrow — shock being the only feeling she was experiencing right now. “you were engaged?” she managed out, scott nodding as y/n clicked the tongue to the root of her mouth. there was never a ring she could of spotted on either of the, but that knowledge made the situation ten times worse in her brain, her mind toggling on jean’s face from this morning as all she currently wanted to do was go punch the bitch. as if she hadn’t wanted to do that for the past two years anyway, this just made the urge slightly uncontainable.

“god she’s a bitch.”

scott lowly laughed as she nodded, “yeah you said that last night.”

her face went a little shade of red at his words, “they say drunk words are sober thoughts.” he added out and y/n couldn’t help the smile growing on her lips as she nodded, shrugging her shoulders.

“i definitely wasn’t wrong.” she said lowly as scott held back a little wince as he swung back on his swing a little, eyes moving back over to the view in front of the pair as y/n spoke up again, “she did look fuming today.”

scott rolling his eyes at the fact, “probably because she was wanting to be with logan —“ he said before he paused realising the weight of his words for y/n, “no offence.”

y/n let out a little laugh at scott’s words trying to ignore the burning sensation in her throat and the hurt that traveled down her chest right to her heart and through her core as she shrugged her shoulders. “yeah i’ll get over it.”

scott couldn’t help the sadness the etched on his face as moved a little, letting out small wince that grabbed y/n’s attention as she looked at him. her eyes falling to where the cut was on his side as his hand rested over it as he leaned up, y/n speaking up, “it hurts still?”

“horribly.” scott muttered out as he tried to sit comfortably, y/n swallowing before she leaned her swing to his — placing her hand over his chest which caused him to jump a little as she placed her hand over where his just laid. “—woah— what are you doing?” he ushered out quickly with her action as she placed her hand exactly over where the cut was.

“just shush.” she rolled out as her hand hovered over the claw marks logan had left as she closed her eyes — ignoring his question as he studied her expression, swallowing as he held back a wince at how her hand was on his side.

her not saying anything more as scott kept himself shut, his mouth falling open as he felt her hand move against his cut and he noticed the way the veins in her arm riveted against her skin as he swallowed as he figured what she was doing. seeing the purple gleam that highlighted through her skin as he felt the pain slowly subside until it completely faded, his stomach flipping and his heartbeat rising as his chest did as he took in a big exhale as he realised exactly what she had just done.

her eyes opening as she leaned over to him, slowly pulling up his shirt to check on the cut as he let her do so as he felt his breath hitch as her hand lingered on the top of his smooth and now cut and bruise free skin as she then went to lean back onto her swing, meeting his eyes as she gave him a little smile.

“there.” y/n said lowly, her words falling out softer then intended as scott smiled at her - their eyes locking onto each others as she brung her hand away but scott stopped it from doing so. his hand grabbing her wrist softly as y/n felt frozen at his touch as he kept his eyes trained on her. the contact they were having making her feel the feelings of butterflies in her stomach as she swallowed . “better?” y/n spoke into the air, raising an eyebrow.

“yeah, yeah— really better.” scott swallowed out as he brung himself to speak, his gaze not leaving her own as he kept his smile tightly on his lips. “thank you.” he managed out, y/n’s heart flipping as he dropped her wrist which made her lean back into her swing, her eyes dawning back onto the mansion as her swing swung a little.

“its cool.”

her words were weighted as scott looked down to his chest as he overviewed where the cut once was which was completely clear, “i forgot you could do that.”

her eyes fell back over to scott at his words as she swallowed, “yeah i hardly do it.”

her watching as scott pulled down his shirt, fidgeting in the swing as he couldn’t help curiosity strike in him as he turned to her direction, “does it hurt for you when you do it?”

she didn’t expect him to ask that question as she shrugged her shoulders, “well i heal right away.” y/n spoke up as she nudged her shirt up a little to check, scott’s eyes dawning on the cut that was fading into her skin which was just the one he had. his eyebrow raising at the image in his head as she brung her shirt right back down.

“either way it’s bearable.” her added words made scott shift in his seat as he held back what he really wanted to say instead swallowing those words right back down as he decided on teasing her.

“you took my pain from me — are you starting to like me finally?” he questioned out, raising an eyebrow at her playfully, “i thought the day would never come” his words making her roll her eyes as she held back the urge to push him off the swing or blush heavily.

“i can give it right back to you.” y/n defended lowly, making him hold his hands up in defence.

“hey, no. i’m good—“

“but i do have to say something which might make you wanna kill me.” he added out which made y/n’s eyebrows raise as she crossed her arms, her eyes on him as she swung her swing around so it was facing him. her body moving along with it as she leaned against the bar. him taking this as her immediate question to why as he spoke up before she got the chance.

“i’m pretty sure logan knows.”

with his words y/n’s eyebrows instantly furrow as she swallowed the pit growing in her stomach as she bit on her tongue to stop herself from freaking out.

“has that got anything to do with the cut?” she asked out, scott nodding before he butted it to try and explain it — “look he might not know completely, i just said that he should be careful about how you feel after i said a few things about him fu— with jean.” scott ushered out quickly pausing a little over jean as y/n tried to hold back the growing anger in her body at the reminder of jean which made her feel a little guilt about how she handled the situation she saw in last night and how she must’ve said it to scott or something as if logan with his fiancé- or should she say ex fiancé- would mean nothing to him. y/n didn’t even wanna remember it due to the mental picture she was gathering as she swallowed, the twos heartache being prominent within their conversation now.

“it was a heat of the moment thing, i did just lazer him.”

with those words y/n couldn’t help a laugh fall her lips in disbelief at how controlled that must’ve been for him to do as she smiled at him, actually finding herself quite glad off that fact, “you lazered him?”

“yes and he was whining like a baby.” scott rolled out emphasising the whining as y/n’s smile grew.

“what the hell was i doing when that was happening?” she couldn’t help ask as scott couldn’t help a laugh as he kept his eyes on her, “oh you were snoring by then.”

“i do not snore.” she quickly bit lowly in reply, scott sensing her stubbornness over the topic immediately as he pushed on it.

“do you need me to let you read my mind to prove you do?”

“i do not s—“ y/n lowly spoke but before she could finish her words the presence of bobby in front of her cut her words short as her face went a bright shade of red at her friend in front of her who she hadn’t even noticed walking over to them — a smirk present on his face at the little idea he formed in his head from just seeing the two here alone.

“hey scott— professors asking for you.” bobby said calmly with his hands in his pocket, his eyes moving between the two of them aa scott turned his attention to bobby silently cursing in his head for him coming over here.

he sighed as he looked back over to y/n, “duty calls.”

“update me on if you need that.” scott teased out slyly as he stood up from the swings before giving bobby a nod as he passed him, bobbys eyes dawning on y/n as his eyebrows instantly raised once he looked back to check if scott was out of ear shot, the second he noticed he wasn’t instantly turning on y/n.

a little smirk on him slaps as she crossed his arms, looking at her.

“please tell me y/n, what do you need?” bobby rolled out playfully in a very obvious tease as y/n rolled her eyes as she stood up.

“god please go annoy rogue or kitty and not me.” she cursed out which made bobby scoff as he went to her side as she was walking, giving her a nudge.

“so you and scott?” he rolled out as y/n nudged him back which nearly sent him over as she scoffed in reply to his words.

“just bonding over heartache thank you very much.” she added out softly, bobby regaining his balance as he kept his position alongside her. eyes cascading over y/n as he shook his head.

“—mm, sure.” bobby teases out as his eyes glanced over the mansion as they got closer to it, his eyes swearing they could make out a logan looking from one of the windows. ams the second body noticed that the figure disappeared, him shaking the idea out his mind as he went back to focusing, teasing, y/n.

bobby finally dropped the scott thing after a long and slightly annoying repeat tease about it as they walked about the mansion just looking for something to ease their boredom on this very lonely sunday which wasn’t so lonely until bobby has snapped scott away with orders from her dad which left her with him, yet not for long as the second he saw rogue he left y/n, scurrying away after rogue like a lost puppy.

the second bobby left y/n knew she wanted (and needed) to find logan somewhere with the new knowledge she had to just ask him why the hell he hurt scott for.. maybe it was bias but she did wanna know and have an excuse to try and get the fact he knew she liked him out of him in a way that didn’t make her have to say it. her mind practically squirming with thoughts of what he would do as she nonchalantly looked around the mansion. her mind thinking on what the best thing to say would be. maybe a little ‘maybe don’t fuck engaged people.’ or a little scream of ‘why the fuck did you hurt scott for?’ or maybe a desperate ‘please don’t hate me now you know i love you.’

y/n rolled her eyes at the comments she was making in her brain as she eventually gave up her search, slumping down on one of the lounge chairs in the living room as she pondered. her mind linking her thoughts back to logan with every aching possibility she got. she hated it, hated how much she was desperate to think off him. it made her feel so weak, weak to his every move as she overanalysed the conversation they shared in the morning.

thankfully, to stop her from going mad, hank came over to her with a bright smile on his face like usual as he slumped down onto the sofa.

“hey y/n.” he commented softly as he leant back onto the sofa, y/n’s eyes falling onto him as she gave hank a soft smile in reply as he fixed his glasses — his gaze on the ceiling as he swallowed.

“hi,” y/n said softly as she analysed hanks furrowed brows and the clear look off pure angst from his face as she held back a little laugh or chuckle as she commented, “the shots get to you too?”

with her words hank brung his eyes on her as he let out a shaky breath, “most definitely.”

y/n couldn’t help a smile at his words as she gazed around the room before looking back to hank, “hey have you seen logan around?” she couldn’t help but ask.

seeing the way hank thought for a second before he quickly nodded, y/n noticing the change in his demeanour just at the question.

“yeah, um. going into jean’s room.” he swallowed the strength to say out, his voice slightly thick.

with hanks words y/n instantly felt a lump in her throat form as she felt her heart drop, nodding softly at what he said as she bit back any sign of emotion being displayed on her face even though hank could read her like an open book.

the aching feeling in her heart was something she hid to her best ability and tried to ignore as much as she could as she rolled out her next words quickly, trying to sound as if she didn’t care at all, “cool.” her words fell out so blatantly obvious that it was insanely obvious to hank she cared entirely.

—

but, thankfully hank didn’t ask you any questions or even dwell on what you asked for the rest of your brief conversation that lasted a good five or so minutes before you excused yourself to go up to your room and cry yet you told simply told him ‘the gyms calling me.’ which had been the biggest lie you had said to him in a long time and he definitely didn’t believe you.

but once you got in your room it felt like it made matters worse, the faint jeff buckley vinyl you had playing in the background making your yearning feelings even stronger as you thought off all the things that could be going on right now between the two of them. you hated it, you couldn’t deal with it anymore. two weeks ago you had decided to give up on it, as if you actually did, but you tried. and now that scott knew and you had someone to talk to about it it seemed all the way worse.

your yearning not being cut off for the entire rest off the night and it didn’t help that it was like logan had gone into hiding. another search of the mansion and he wasn’t anywhere and you were certainly not asking jean so you had to wallow in your thoughts off him as you went back to your room. repeating the same cycle of looking before bed, which only made you certain he had to still be in jean’s room. still. great.

and within the next day you still hadn’t seen him once, scott had said he was acting odd and not to push on it just yet but you could hardly contain your emotions anymore. him being gone making all off it worse because it was at his will, not yours. you didn’t even see him once.

and by wednesday that was when you knew you had to capture him somewhere alone. having seen him a good four or five times around the mansion now where he blatantly ignored or blanked you and that just made everything worse and scott’s nice words of comfort weren’t helping you one bit. it felt like it was making it all worse, seeing how fucked you were over him being so cold to you. it made you feel sick, you weren’t pushing him away he was pushing you away and you didn’t even know why. you craved his words, even if they were horrible you just wanted to hear him directly talk to you and you’re like this after only four days without talking.

the glances to each other in the hallway killed you mostly, every time it like he was tearing your heart up because he looked back every single time yet kept his mouth shut and immediately glanced away once he had shared his beauty to you. it was like a game now, trying to dissect the emotions in his eyes. but you never could. all you gathered was a look you narrowed down to feeling lost, or even confused. you didn’t get it. at all.

your yearning was at the highest volume especially after seeing him leave jean’s room this morning. that practically destroyed you and you didn’t know why he had such high control of you, you needed to get over it but you couldn’t. you just couldn’t. it was hurting to even breath, every breath feeling weighted as you laid on rogues bed after just having an entire bitch about it. her now knowingness of the situation making you feel better but her comfort hardly was there as all she was going on about was what costume to wear to the halloween party.

that making you feel a number of feelings, mostly annoyance as you swallowed roughly as she hung up a costume on her door.

“i wanna be riding hood. the red cloaks good for that.” rogue said softly, y/n sitting up at her words as her eyes dawned over to the costume hanging on the door. two days to go and rogue was still trying to find an outfit and a matching one for her best friend.

“what could you be?” rogue questioned out, almost to herself, as she looked over her costume then back to y/n.

“a pig.” y/n scoffed out as rogue rolled her eyes at her comment as she walked back and took in her own costume trying to match something to it. y/n watching as rogues brain tried to fall on something and it was almost like magic when it did. her eyes lightening up as she ran right over to her closet and started searching through it.

“what?” y/n asked out as rogue buried her head into it, throwing out a few things that made y/n’s eyebrows raise in confusion.

“you are going to be matching with me so good that we would win if there was a competition.”

with rogues words y/n’s eyes dawned on the thing rogue was holding in her hand as she shut the wardrobe behind her as she leaned against it.

“cat ears?” y/n muttered out confusedly as her eyebrows furrowed up in confusion as rogue scoffed.

“it’s red riding hood!” rogue retorted as y/n linked two with two, her eyes widening as she immediately shook her head.

“no! wolf? wolf! you’re joking,” she scoffed out quickly watching as rogue kept a straight face which only made her go on more,”—have you not listened to anything your best friends just been screaming about for the past thirty minutes!?”

the room fell silent as rogue pouted, holding out the ears for y/n to take.

“y/n! please, nobody will care. it’s not even about him!”

her words only annoyed y/n more as she went to talk but rogue instantly shushed, placing her finger to her lips as y/n edged back.

“cmon! you’re my best friend and i need you on this. it’s going to be hot! think of that.” rogue dragged out with a sly smile as she kept the cat, wolf, ears for y/n out to grab still waving them about impatiently.

“i know you’re going to say yes.” she rolled out as she took in the way y/n was looking at her. y/n swallowing her pride before she snapped the ears out her grip.

“fuck you.” y/n let slip as rogue cheekily smiled in return, “you wish.”

+ੈ✩‧₊˚

after that entire ordeal y/n slipped out of rogue’s company to join in with training, walking down the halls and towards the elevator being enough alone time for her as the second she was left alone with her thoughts she was right back on overthinking every single thing about logan and herself. her mind tracking back to what scott had recalled to her and how he mustn’t have been saying the entire truth to her because why else was logan being like this for? so distant, it just made y/n wanna dissect every inch of logan or scott’s mind and get to the bottom of it. that’d be easier then all this pondering.

and in training it showed how y/n was off it, her slacking in every way possible which immediately let scott know how much she was affected by the logan situation today. as they both got ‘killed’ from the training exercise they were doing which made the two of them sit over by the sidelines whilst they’d have to watch the others. y/n mind currently lingering on the one word logan had said to her in the past span of the past four days. a blunt, ‘move’ which he said right before the hologram off a training robot was about to kill her and the second she moved and he had ‘sorted” it out he walked off like she was never anything to him and he didn’t look back once or say another word.

it hurt her too the bone and the list of questions she had was never ending now, the aching feeling worsening per second in the same room as him as her eyes wondered on him as she watched as he trained.

scott looking at how deep in thought she was making his own heart hurt as he felt the guilt rise in his, for not addressing logan and how she must’ve been feeling. the tension coating through y/n at a high point as scott got the courage to speak and break the looming silence.

“finally that’s over.” scott scoffed out lowly which brung y/n out the staring contest she was having with the floor as she sighed at scott’s words, giving him a nod in return as she slouched back a little. scott noticing her somewhat closeness as he placed his arm around her, trying to be a comfort, as she leaned against his touch almost instantly. her head falling down to rest on his shoulder as she felt the weights of her emotions falter a bit at scott’s comforting touch.

something she’d almost started to get used to within the past couple days since those swings had become a meeting place for them late at night, if they wanted to rant.. or couldn’t sleep, they’d go there and talk. last night it was for a good hour or two, maybe three.

“i just wanna go to sleep.” y/n brung herself to speak up, her voice hoarse as scott sighed with her words. his touch tightening on her yet his grip was still as soft as ever as he placed his chin against her forehead.

“rough day?” scott asked quietly, his voice slipping out lowly into her ear as y/n nodded against his touch.

“rogues making me be a wolf for the party.” she cursed out.

“god.” scott chuckled out, finding that stupid and horrible at the same time as he moved his hand up and down y/n’s shoulder as his eyes lingered on the training scene that was soon to being over. scott catching logan’s cold gaze for a moment before logan looked away with a stern look on his face like usual.

scott ignoring it as he spoke up, “you should’ve done the group costume with me. padme suits you.”

“i wish i did but i can’t now bobby’s not going and rogues relying on me. it’s stupid.” y/n shuddered out, her voice low as she felt annoyed at the thought.

“i know.” scott replied, shifting his body slightly closer to her owns. “swings again tonight?”

he asked softly, y/n nodding against him as she was about to speak up when the hologram switched off. her eyes adjusting to the blue large room that dawned on her as scott leaned back, keeping his hand around her as she slipped back into his grip as she leant up — her eyes watching logan’s from across the room, as that feeling arised in her chest.

“i say go trap him.” scott spoke up which made her jump out little staring contest she was having with him as she moved her gaze onto scott, shaking her head plainly.

“i don’t even know if i wanna speak to him after how cold he’s been, he’s a hairy prick.” y/n cursed out under her breath as scott laughed.

“that’s bull and you know it.” scott spoke, knowing y/n all too well as he nudged her. “go.”

“it’s not like i even want him anymore. i just wanna scream at him for hurting you and being such a cunt.” y/n half lied out, her voice harsher at the thought of getting to speak to him, as she held back what else she wanted to say and stuck with that idea to keep her sanity as strong as it could be. scott not commenting on what she said despite how badly he knew it to not be the truth as he gave her a little smile, the low laugh escaping his lips making her take a deep breath in.

“go do it. i’ll deal with the others so you two are alone.” scott rolled out as he tapped her shoulder to get her up which made a chill rush through her body as she swallowed her pride as she brung her eyes onto scott’s.

the smile on his lips convincing her to do it enough as she let the words escape her lips, “fine.”

with her words scott smiled as he let his hand around y/n’s shoulder drop, “go!” he ushered out as y/n rolled her eyes as she stood up and started to walk over to where logan was.

“thank me later.” scott called out to her before he got up himself , walking over to storm and hank who were in conversation with jean who were walking out the room. the perfect scenario.

scott’s eyes peaking back as he was about to leave the room with the others as he saw logan searching through his jacket , scott taking in y/n walking over strongly.

scott meeting y/n’s gaze as she looked back to him giving her a nod before he disappeared out the door with the others. which left y/n and logan in complete silence in the room as y/n watched as logan grabbed a cigar out his coat pocket after putting it on, her swallowing as she noted how he definitely didn’t notice she was still in here.

that fact just making her brain a little fuzzy as she pulled the courage to put her tough demeanour on, swallowing the heartache as she leaned against the wall next to him. logan’s eyes tearing onto hers at the movement he heard as he took in her appearance which haulted him lighting cigar and immediately haunted him. his eyes cascading over her body as he roughly swallowed before his gaze met her harsh, narrowed, eyes.

“you’ve been ignoring me.” y/n spoke out which completely captured his attention as her eyes didn’t leave his for a moment. the eye contact she was getting from him making her weak in every way but she kept herself strong, her eyes narrowed onto him as she watched as he raised an eyebrow at her words as he lit his cigar, taking a hit before he scoffed as the smoke left his lips, filling the room.

“no i haven’t.” he gruffly let out as he brung his gaze away from her as he started to walk off, past her. y/n scoffing as she went after him, taking a step in front of him to stop him going any further as his throat tightened at her action. his eyes falling back down to her own.

“im pretty sure you have.” y/n replied back stubbornly as he raised an eyebrow at her words, scoffing once again. the tension in the room completely shifted even to a heaviness that she hadn’t experienced before with him.

“mm—well you’ve been pretty busy with scott i didn’t think you’d notice too much.” logan rolled out harshly, his voice low and hoarse which sent a chill through y/n’s body as the weight off his words sunk in. her eyes widening as she instantly shook her head, tutting as she took in what the petty bastard just said as she swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat back down.

“and what the hell is that supposed to mean?” y/n quickly replied, her anger only rising at what he had said as she couldn’t believe what he had just told her. the words from him being slightly shocking as she took in the look that crossed his face as he shrugged his shoulders.

“you tell me sweetheart.” he growled out before he pushed past her, y/n’s mouth falling agap at his words as she sighed heavily. his words ringing in her head as she gulped. teleporting so she was in front of him which stopped him right as he was about to leave the door which made him jump a little. cigar smoke leaving his lips and going right into her face as he coughed out of surprise off her being there, being caught off guard by her action as she stayed frozen in place in front of himas she stepped forward thinking that would result in him stepping back. but it didn’t.

her holding back the urge to quiver back due to the closeness as she worked up the courage to speak, her eyes locked onto his as she lowly spoke up, “you hurt him.”

“who wouldn’t?” logan replied back gruffly, his jaw clenched as he almost laughed at the patheticness of what she had stated, the way she was trying to defend him making him feel a number of ways about the situation.

his words only angered y/n heavily as she kept her eyes narrowed onto his, questions running through her mind as she tried to keep her composure up as if the distance wasn’t killing hers inside. her breath hitching as his words caused her anger to rise as she took in just how rude he was being, this making her emotions grow inside of her breath brushed against his neck as she looked up at him. her heart stinging and she swore her eyes were too as she roughly swallowed, feeling her heartbeat in her ears as she bit down her pride and quickly spoke.

“did i do something?” she managed to say — her voice almost breaking at just that hint of hurt in her voice tore logan’s eyes away from her as those words fell into the air as she didn’t tare her eyes away from him once. seeing the way his face changed as she could hear his heartbeat crazily pumping and if she really thought close with her powers she could read his every though right now and that’d help her understand what he was feeling but she couldn’t do that to him ever. herself being mesmerised by the way his eyes looked as if they were watering as she added out, “you haven’t spoke to me in four days logan.”

her words met the air harshly as logan swallowed roughly as he took a rough inhale of his cigar in retaliation to what she had just said, looking to y/n coldly as he bit down all the emotion he was suppressing as he exhaled after. the silence deafening as she waited for anything, any answer. his face not giving anything away.

her searched his own as the silence grew before he eventually spoke up, which made everything worse.

“yeah and for good reason.” he replied lowly, y/n’s eyebrows twitching as she kept her gaze on his holding back a yell and the urge to punch him.

his harshness was enough to ruin her completely as she bit down on the inside of her cheek as she spoke up lowly, “and what is that?” y/n’s question failing to bring any peace to the two of them as logan grew angrier as he bit the bullet and quickly spoke up.

“ask scott since you care about him so much suddenly.” logan cursed out under his breath as he leaned over her and opened the door up, going to push past her.

“you’re fucking joking right?” she quickly said — the weight off his words hitting he as she placed her hand against his chest to stop him from moving anymore which just made his anger stronger as she roughly shoved him back. not meaning to that but it happened, his eyebrows raising at her action.

“watch it..” he said harshly, his voice gruff as he put out his half finished cigar against his skin, holding back any sign of hurt as he placed the rest off it back into his pocket. y/n studying every inch of his face with anger the only emotion showcased on hers as his eyes felt like they were taunting her.

her words coming out so quickly due to her growing annoyance, anger and hurt over the situation she couldn’t help herself, “maybe you should watch it since you can’t stop sleeping with someone that was engaged a good four days ago.”

the words that escaped her lips pushed logan to an extreme as his anger bursted as he felt all that pent up emotion he’d been hiding scream and claw its way out as he roughly grabbed her, pushing her against the wall harshly with a loud thud as his hand roughly wrapped round her throat.

“she was engaged to a cunt.” logan growled out, y/n seeing how seething he was as her breath hitched at their closeness. his grip only tightening on her neck as she held back any whimpers threatening to escape her lips as she kept her eyes locked onto his own, feeling his body pressed against her own as the heat rose between them.

“you do know if she cheated on him she’d cheat on you happily.” y/n harshly muttered out, her breath slightly hitched due to how harshly he was holding her against the wall. her words only pissing him off more as he stared her down, his fingers digging into her skin.

“you’ve just been aching to say something like that haven’t you? you hate her.” logan said rudely, his grip on y/n’s throat still heavy so much that it would defintely bruise. the closeness sending her body into a mixed frenzy as she grew angrier at everything he said. the tension in the air suffocating her. “you always have.” he spit out rudely.

“and whys that?” logan trailed out before giving y/n a chance to respond, his voice teasing as if he knew the answer already. his tone making her feelings worse as she couldn’t move her eyes away from him as she was close to practically gasping for air already due to how harshly he had her.

y/n roughly swallowed, logan’s hands tightly gripping her throat making all her feelings worse as she found the words, “i’m pretty sure scott’s told you something that could be a factor.” she cursed out sarcastically. his eyes darkening as she studied every inch of his expression.

he narrowed his eyes at her words his anger radiating off him as he kept his grip on her, biting down on his lip at her words as his eyes didn’t leave hers for a second. y/n reading all sort of emotions within them as the tension swallowed her whole. feelings she’d never felt before cowering through her as she couldn’t move an inch, practically frozen.

“that prick told me a whole lot of nothing.” logan harshly let out as y/n raised an eyebrow at his words, his hand on her throat slipping a little as his anger seethed as he spoke again no matter how much he didn’t want too say it.

“apparently you could’ve been hurt.” he spit out like it was venom, y/n’s eyes leaving his for a second at his words as she swallowed roughly. her action annoying logan senseless as her moved his hand roughly to her jaw, turning her face to look back up at him. her breath hitching at his action.

“so you were?” he casted out, his gaze not leaving hers for a second as his harsh eyes took all of her in.

“by what?—you and jean?” y/n mustered out harshly, his grip falling right back to her throat at the stupidness of her words as his grip was ten times tighter then it was before. y/n having never seen this harshness from him before, and to say she didn’t like it would be a lie.

“jesus don’t play dumb with me kid.” he shook out harshly, his words another level of harsh as heat flooded her body as he pushed himself closer to her as she was roughly held against the wall.

“what if i was?” y/n scoffed out seeing the flash off weakness in logan’s eyes before he swallowed, a scoff escaping his lips as the tightness around her neck loosened as she caught her breath.

it was like there was something working in brain as the words sunk in, y/n watching as he swallowed once again. moving his gaze away before roughly shaking his head, his hand slipping off her throat but the closeness was still there as he looked back to her. almost fighting with himself and y/n could read that all over his face.

“you’d be stupid because i love jean.” he grunted out coldly as his words hit her harshly as she tried to fight that feeling rising in her as she brung herself to nod, swallowing those words she so wanted to scream in his face right now.

“i know.” y/n spoke out lowly, not bringing herself to deny his words or even state anything about them regarding her as she felt the feelings of hurt take over her, her observing a hint of hurt in logan’s eyes as she felt the hole in her grow twenty million times bigger as she watched him take a step back— y/n biting down the emotions threatening to show as she looked at him. the tightness feeling still around her neck despite his touch no longer being present, something right now she was craving.

the air was thick with tension as y/n swallowed, not being able to look away from him, as she could see the look on his face. one of practical knowing, he could read through her half assed words.

“so why the hell did you ignore me for?” y/n roughly asked him as she changed the topic slightly, gaining control of her hitched voice again which was hoarse due to how logan had just been holding her throat. her voice enlaced with anger as she stared down at logan, him tearing his gaze away before shaking his head as he tried to form the words as he met her gaze again.

“you just—don’t—look i didn’t want to hurt you kid.” logan ushered out, y/n getting an idea of exactly what he meant by those words as she swallowed roughly as she fought to keep her gaze on him. the weight in the air horrible as the tension had switched to this sense of nervousness and awkwardness between them.

“you ignoring me hurt me.” y/n said harshly as logan swallowed as he teared his eyes away from y/n as he stepped back.

“i didn’t mean too.” he rolled out, fighting with the urge to do many things he just couldn’t as he looked over her. shaking the thoughts out his brain as he took in the look of hurt on her face, she wasn’t hiding well.

“sure.” y/n almost whispered out , the room falling silent as logan scoffed roughly at her words before shaking his head in retaliation as he then pressed the button to open the door, almost in a hissy fit as y/n’s eyebrows raised at his action.. “logan—“ she called out as he immediately left at her words as she went right after him without another thought.

“logan! wa-“ she called out, cutting off her own words and stopping in her tracks once she saw him standing in the hallway frozen. her gaze stuck on him until she observed where he was looking and followed his eyes until she landed on scott at the end of the hall, immediately swallowing roughly as logan’s eyes were locked onto his. the harshness present in his gaze and scott’s too as logan brung his dark gaze onto her.

y/n’s mind doing a huge spin as logan’s face held a cruel expression on it as he saw who was waiting for her, it being like another switch had flipped within him as y/n observed his jaw clenching and him biting down on his cheek as their eyes were on each other.

“think your boyfriends waiting for you bub.” logan muffled out rudely, his voice hoarse as he moved his gaze back onto scott giving him ome last glare before turning on his heel without another word and dissappearing down the hall. y/n scoffing at his words as she swallowed, debating going after him but her thoughts were stopped when she realised scott walking over to her.

“that didn’t go so well then?” scott commented softly, his eyes meeting her own as she shook her head straight away. the smile that was on his face dropping as he let out a harsh breath.

“not one bit.” y/n whispered out as scott gave her a sad smile, wrapping his arm round her side as the two started to walk down to the elevator.

y/n completely unbeknownst to the fact that logan watched as the two walked away, scott’s hand around her waist a burning picture in logan’s mind for the rest of the day as the anger inside him grew. his heart longing for something he couldn’t even mutter to his own brain out of fear for his strong the feeling was.

+ੈ✩‧₊˚

halloween had come and you wished it hadn’t. your usual favourite season been replaced with all this shit stirring inside you to the point when it come round you didn’t even know if you could even be bothered to go to the party but you knew you had no choice which is why once you started to get ready you and rogue pregamed secretly, her having got bobby to bring some alcohol for you two as a constellation prize for him not being able to come which he did of course.. he did practically everything she asked and seeing them so in love made you sick half the time no matter how happy you were for rogue it did just remind you of your own lack of love.

tonight the liquor burnt your throat harshly to another extreme and the second you started you wished you never but there was no going back — your feelings being swept under the rug as you and rogue finished your drinks as the two of you got ready. her doing your makeup as you hummed to the music playing on her speakers which drowned out the growing noise of the party downstairs as your mind swirled over logan and scott, who had ended up asking you to go with him to this party which you of course said yes too, whilst rogue tried her best to take your mind off it.

not that it was working the slightest bit. rogue knew about the argument — she had heard the story a good six or seven times since it happened two days ago and she couldn’t even comprehend it let alone you. ‘team scott’ was what she had been saying for the first remainder of the night whenever you spoke about it which now just made you shut up about it because you couldn’t think straight when scott’s name was in the mix.

the anguish and hurt that had been displayed on your face for the past two days disappearing by the more you drunk. feeling more carefree by the moment as you and rogue eventually made your way down to the party.

+ੈ✩‧₊˚

the party so far was a drunken mess from everyone around y/n as she locked eyes with logan for what felt like the 30th time in the past hour or so from the other side of the crowded living room. y/n roughly swallowing once their eyes met with his captivating gaze never dropping or leaving her own for a second and it had felt like that for the entire night despite his hand that was plainly wrapped around jean’s waist as they talked with wade and vanessa. y/n’s nose scrunching up as she observed that once again before she turned away burying her lips within another glass as she took a generous sip of the drink scott had got her.

rogue being in conversation with pyro who was playing with the hem of her shirt, y/n close to butting in just to make sure rogue was good because she knew how quickly she got drunk but she cut off with scott’s voice as he leaned over to her. his hand wrapping around her shoulder as he pulled her closer to her, the drunkness evident within him as every single time y/n saw him drink he seemed to get 10x more clingy.

“shall—we, shots?” scott rolled out as y/n met his gaze, a smile joining her lips at his drunk mess as she couldn’t help chuckle as he pulled her even closer to him to the point she was practically edging to be sat on him.

“we’re both far gone already.” y/n stammered out as scott couldn’t help a cheeky grin join on his lips as his hand stayed around her waist, his eyes focused up on her and his eyes were so heavily resembling a cute puppy dog through his visor she couldn’t stop the little blush coating her cheeks. her feelings amplified by the alcohol.

“cmon i’ve never seen you back down.” scott teased out, his voice a low and slurred whisper as y/n took in his words, them making her feel a number of things as she couldn’t stop herself from leaning over him as she grabbed two shots from the tray on the coffee table.

“it’s your fault if i start dancing in a minute.”

“oh, like dirty dancing?” scott referenced as he quipped his eyebrow up, y/n laughing at his words as she felt his eyes burning into her as she took the shot. y/n placing her shot back down on the table once she swallowed it as she looked back to scott, seeing how he hadn’t torn his eyes away from her, the shot still full in his hand as his eyes were focused on y/n as she smiled down at him, his hand keeping her close to him as she felt something inside her growing.

“mm definitely.” y/n chimed out as scott couldn’t hide the smirk that grew on his lips at the thought.

“good.” he said deeply as he took the shot right after speaking. y/n finding her mind a mess with his words as she moved her eyes back to the corner where logan was seeing him standing there, eyes narrowed on her but before the eye contact couldnt go prolonged for any moment longer as hank slid into the empty space in the sofa next to them between rogue and pyro who were clearly shitfaced already which captured y/n’s attention.

“where is my sanity?” hank rolled out as he sighed as he sunk into the sofa, y/n looking his costume up and down as she raised an eyebrow over it. scott leaning over y/n to see what he was, a smile on his lips as he saw it.

“frankestine you lost that many years ago.” y/n rolled out as hank gave her a look, scott laughing as it was the funniest thing she had said in the world as she could feel herself get daggers from across the crowded room. her swallowing as hank dug his own little grave into the sofa as she grabbed another shot as scott leaned back into the sofa, y/n unsubconciously leaning against his touch after putting the now empty shot glass on the table after downing it like it was water.

“yeah and what the hell are you?” hank casted out right before wade butted in.

“she’s wolverine if he was sexier and underage.” wade said lowly, giving y/n a little head bop with his hand as he made hank move over, wade sliding in next to y/n as scott scoffed at what he said as wades eyes dawned on scott.

“god you two move on quick.” he tumbled out, y/n shoving him in his side at his words as he fake winced in pain. hank rolling his eyes as he looked to scott and y/n.

“no! but you do make a good couple.” hank said tipsily as y/n felt her face going red as scott glanced over at her overviewing that sight as he felt a certain feeling grow in him at the knowledge. that familiar ache within her getting harder to have to deal with now as she pushed it down with another shot, scott sighing as she did so as he shot wade and hank a look which his drunkness made more obvious.

“yeah—quit it guys.” scott said lowly despite how he really felt about it as y/n leaned back into his touch, the closeness limiting her thoughts as scott brung his eyes over to hank only to be cut off with logan’s gaze from across the room.

logan’s eyes permanently dented onto scott as he sensed the anger radiating off him from across the room, scott having to cancel out the vision of jean right next to him trying to grab logan’s attention as he swallowed roughly with this making his grip on y/n tighter as he moved his eyes to hank. a sly smile on his lips as he could sense his rage from across the room which only got worse, that feeling making him feel good as if he forgot about jean being over there.

“frankie with the glasses got a point.” wade said swiftly as he dug into his pockets as scott sighed as y/n sent him a soft smile to let him know it was fine as hank decided to drown his emotions into the bottom of his glass. halloween music blaring through the speakers that nearly everyone in the room was dancing too, wade humming to himself as he brung something out his pocket.

“cocaine anyone?” he brushed out off the tongue as if it was nothing, y/n’s eyes widening a little at her friends habit as she felt her heart skip a beat as she looked over to wade as rogue leaned over hank with a raised eyebrow to see what was going on, her clearly judging him as y/n couldn’t help ponder over it for a second. but before she could even voice her little curiosity that wade could tell just from how she was looking at him she had the sound of the one guy she had been hating for the past two days, more like week, and who had been avoiding her like she was striker spoke up.

“put that shit away wade there’s kids at this party.” logan’s voice harshly let out which knocked y/n’s heart down a view pegs as she looked up to meet his gaze. his cold eyes not looking to her once as she noticed how focused he was on wade as his jaw clenched.

“wow you were watching me like hawkeye!” wade rolled out, “or too busy gawking at y/n still?” he said which installed an instant tension between the joint group as y/n swallowed a lump that had formed in her throat at wades blatant stupidness.

logan didn’t even buy into the shit he was saying, eyes narrowed on wade as he took a step closer to him past the coffee table as if that was a threat wade would notice or care about, “there are kids at this party wade. put it away.” logan followed out roughly, anger growing within him as he glanced over to y/n. their eyes meeting as his eyes lingered on her as he took in the way scott was sitting so close to her as if she was his to protect.

wade tutted at logan’s words as he raised an eyebrow at what he said, “it’s sixteen up peanut and they’re all doing this in the bathroom anyway aren’t they y/n?” wade waved away at you, “go on,go check with your mind.” wade said cockily towards you as he paused for dramatic effect as logan’s gaze narrowed even more on wade as he spoke up again as he looked back to logan, “see they are! loosen up cowboy.”

logan tutting as his gaze met y/n’s own before he looked back to wade, swallowing harshly.

“wade.” he growled out roughly, logan not letting his eyes move off wade’s for a second as y/n could see the anger deeply rooted on his face. scott scoffing as he decided to get involved.

“wade just take it somewhere else.” scott managed out, y/n’s eyes moving to his as his words hit the air as wade snorted in reply, a low laugh leaving his lips as scott was staring at logan. the uncomfortably in the situation rising so much y/n didn’t realise pyro and rogue sneak off together.

“i don’t need your back up.” logan scoffed out harshly, crossing his arms as he kept his gaze on wade not even tearing his eyes to scott. y/n finding his maturity ,lack there off, stupid as scott held back a sigh at his words as he kept his arm around y/n, deciding that was all needed to piss logan off right now as he didn’t even want to make a comment back or even have the energy too.

“this rooms full of adults.” wade chimed out, logan’s anger growing.

“wade— just fucking—“ logan started out only to be cut off by y/n’s voice.

“drop it logan.” y/n rolled out which made logan’s eyes fall down to her, seeing her all snuggly with scott making him another level of pissed off as he raised an eyebrow at her words.

“what? you joining wade?” logan growled out, his voice harsh and rude as y/n swallowed. scott going to butt in as wade observed what was going on, a sly smile growing on his lips as y/n spoke before scott got the chance too.

“just drop it. you heard wade.” y/n said back harshly to him which made logan tutt as he didn’t look away from y/n at all.

“sure i heard wade and i know you aren’t a fucking adult.” he bit out harshly, making y/n feeling a number of things as scott jumped in, “don’t talk to her like that.” he said harshly, logan’s eyebrows raising at scott’s words as he took in scott, looking y/n and him up and down before he bit down on his tongue. his anger having been raised by wade and now it was only getting worse

“or what? i’m pretty sure she can stand up for herself.” logan replied harshly which made scott’s anger rise within him as y/n got inbetween their words. hank and wade watching the three of them like it was a reality tv show.

“logan stop it.” she ushered out quickly, giving him a cold look as he met her gaze as the two stared at eachother, him not backing down for a second as she fixated her gaze on him. her heart unsteady at this prolonged harshness he had for her.

“is that all you can say kid?” logan scoffed out angrily which made y/n swallow harshly as scott’s grip tightened on her in a way of attempted comfort that right now was just making it worse. the pressure immense as wade’s eyes fell between y/n and logan. seeing how y/n was taking it, seeing through the demeanour. he could practically see her snapping. breaking.

“no. you’re an asshole and i’m not a kid, so leave it and fuck off too jean will you?” y/n shapped out harshly, her words coming out strongly as all three of them on the sofa amongst her didn’t expect those words to come out her mouth, wade’s mouth falling agap as did hank’s as they tried to hide the shocked expression overtaking their faces as scott swallowed harshly.

the tension risen as logan’s voice was as he immediately came back at her, “you’re a little baby compared to everyone here and you know that, also you don’t get a fucking right to talk about jean.” his harsh words were like a knife to the side as y/n laughed at what he said as scott held back the urge to speak up when logan mentioned jean’s name, it just being a habit he had, as y/n kept her eyes up on logan as she swallowed down her feelings. anger being the only thing prominent in her brain for him currently.

“okay maybe you guys should take this somewhere else.” hank trailed off, sensing the seriousness of the conversation and defintely being able to hear the feelings enlaced within both their words as wade hushed him.

“no, no i just need to get my popcorn. keep going!” wade tumbled out which made y/n turn to look at him with a harsh look, wade seeing the emotion in her eyes as she left his gaze and she searched the sofa for rogue. it just being hank and wade right where rogue and pyro once were sat.

“where th—“ she stopped herself from finishing as she realised the stupidness off her words before she quickly remarked, “you’re an asshole.” to logan as she quickly got up, scott’s hand falling off her waist as she stood up as she got face to face with logan instantly walking right past him and disappearing into the crowd.

“see what you did!” scott cursed out as he tutted, going to stand up to get her when logan instantly stood in front of him. placing his hand over his chest as he pushed him back down.

“stay.” logan said strongly before he gave wade and hank a look before disappearing right after her.

+ੈ✩‧₊˚

y/n turned as many corners as she could as her mind become even off a spinning mess as she made her way out to the courtyard where it was completely pissing it down but she couldn’t care less in the moment, just needing air and a break to recollect her thoughts, as she tumbled down the steps. her heart aching as she heard the door slam shut a few seconds later after she had left them. soon the faint sound of footsteps following her making her feel a number of things as she heard nothing him call after her. “where the hell are you going?” logan yelled out after her as she kept on walking, him running after her and eventually catching up to her.

catching his breath as he roughly grabbed her wrist to make her stop in in the middle of the field as he turned her around to meet his gaze, her breath noticing as it felt like her world stopped at that touch as she couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes.

“y/n.” he quickly let out with a raised voice so she could hear him over the pouring rain, the two of them getting drenched under the dark skies as she kept her gaze on him. trying to shake his hand off her own but he didn’t budge one bit.

“y/n!” he called back out when she didn’t answer — trying to grab her attention as he fought her way to finally look at him, swallowing a lump that was in her throat as their eyes met.

“what logan! what do you want? you’ve been nothing but cold and rude to me for a week and after what you just said to me there and what you said last time we spoke i don’t exactly wanna speak to you! so let go off me—“ y/n shouted out to him, her breath hitting a little as her voice broke a little as her confusing and distressing emotions got the best of her as they started to slip out.

logan’s breath hitched completely at her words as he grew more frustrated, “fuck, y/n! i —“ he cut himself off, moving his hand off her as he moved his hand through his hair in a stressful manner, not wanting to be sensitive at all but he could feel it all coming out as she felt her heart break as he took a step back. his shaky voice just being a reminder of everything he’s said before and how horrible he’s been recently, but it also reminded her off the man she thought she loved.

“what? logan? what!” she stammered right back out, her breath hitched as he looked at her. his mouth agap as he was fighting for the words. “i—“

“you what? you hate me? because good! i hate you too.” y/n tumbled out before turning on her heel, logan’s heart in his chest as he watched her as she started to walk away, just being able to make her out as the rain started to pour even harder. the chill down his back snapping him to reality as he quickly screamed back at her.

“y/n! for fucks sake, i’m in love with you!” he called back at her, his voice raised as he screamed that for her to hear through the loud harsh rain. y/n pausing in her tracks as his words hit her like a tidal wave.

her breath growing uncontrollable as she felt her chest rising, swallowing before she slowly turned back to meet his eyes. the distance vast between them as the rain filled her vision but she could see him, the rain pouring down on her face only making her emotions worse as she swallowed.

“what?” she yelled back at him, her voice shaking as she heard him curse under her breath.

“i’m petrified, y/n i’m fucking petrified because i love you so much it hurts.” he quaked out, his voice raising as his breathing became ragged and uneven, his body practically trembling under the coldness of the rain as he looked at her.

“logan��“

“no— don’t say anything else. just listen to me.” logan quickly spoke, taking steps over to y/n until he was a mere few inches away. her eyes dawning up on him as she swallowed roughly, her mind a mess.

“i get scared okay? i got scared because you, you’re everything. i got scared when i knew you felt the way i did i didn’t know how to deal with it. i don’t want to hurt you, i can’t. it’d break me in every way there is.” he rambles out strongly, “and i don’t love jean—i can’t when you exist.” he finished out, his words meaning everything as y/n kept her gaze on him.

her breath shaking at his confession as she looked at him wide eyed, his words hanging in the air as a thick silence grew. y/n taking in everything about logan’s face, the way he looked at her as she tried to wrack her thoughts around what she had just heard. questions falling through her brain as her mouth opened to speak, trying to find the words but instead of words she was met with logan’s lips against her own.

his hands falling around her waist as he pulled her to him softly, the roughness missing within this warm embrace as his kiss was full of desire and passion, the heated kiss making her feel a mixture of emotions as she let him take control of it. her body shaking due to the warmth from his body and the coldness from the rain soaking them as y/n’s drunken mind was lingering on one guy snd she couldn’t bring herself to admit who it was, not right now. her breath shaky as logan’s other hand fell down to her waist as he pulled her closer to him, her hand cupping his cheek as she kissed him back strongly.

the kiss growing more heated as he roughly bit down on her lip, a low whimper escaping her lip at his action as he groaned at just the way she sounded against him as he fought for dominance. the heat rushing between them as he pulled her as close as he could, wanting to taste every inch of her lips. her breath shaky as logan and her eventually pulled away from the kiss — his eyes falling down on hers as so much need for her was within his gaze as y/n looked up at him, her lips feeling swollen as she swallowed anxiously.

her not even able to say anything back or move, her body frozen as everything she had been fantasying about for the past year had just happened right there. and she didn’t know if it felt right or not.

she knew she loved him, she had for years, but as she looked at him now it was completely different.

and she couldn’t help but wonder why that heart ache she thought was down to logan was still present within her and no matter what she wanted to believe she knew deep down that she had fell so quickly and easily for someone else that standing here in front of logan the main feeling she had was guilt for kissing him back.

[batfambrainrotbeloved]

Bruce Wayne, mentor to many- father to none.

I want the angst of B having to come to terms that he doesn't know ANY of his kids not anymore at least and maybe never and the fact his kids are just- used to it?

Visiting Dicks apartment, he finds a picture of him smiling while surrounded by a bunch of little kids in spandax uniforms. Turns out he'd been a gymnastics instructor for about four years now and his most recent team had everyone qualify for state. (Bruce didn't even know he still practiced)

Jason stopped accepting Wednesday night patrols, but when he looked into it he found out that was the night he went to DND nights with his roommates every week. The roommates he met last semester after he decided to go to college and get an english major. (Bruce didn't even know he had applied)

Checking the library he found a small pedastal plague put up by Alfred displaying just one book. It said Cass was the author. Apparently she had gotten super into writing and published a book talking about language deprivation and lack of accomidation for deaf/hoh children born to hearing families. She had a book signing last month, Alfred had gone and grabbed this copy now on display (Bruce didn't even know she liked to write)

Tim finished a case early and let it slip he needed to sign off early to "meet up with his boyfriends" and hung up before Bruce could process. It only took a small glance at his middle child's latest social media post to see him alongside Superboy (what was his name?) and a blonde boy he didn't recognize. Both were leaned in to kiss his cheek and the caption said "Happy 3rd anniversary!!" (Bruce didn't even know he was interested in boys)

Steph's birthday came around and Bruce got her a new account and shoved a couple thousand for her to buy whatever she wanted. But he quickly noticed a pattern of everyone getting her- cat supplies? Apparently She had adopted a cat about a month ago to celebrate her new apartment, Mister Mystery was his name, and she had asked everyone for supplies instead of other gifts. (Bruce didn't even know she had moved)

He decided on some impromptu father-son bonding and tries to track down his youngest. But Damian is nowhere to be found. He gets pretty close to calling an emergency meeting but the moment he messages Oracle she reminds him Damian is in Chicago. Damian had won an art competition at school and his piece qualified for a gallery spot. The entire family had gone days ago and he was due back the next day. (Bruce didn't even know he cared about art)

Then Duke- his youngest in terms of time spent. But one he had grown fond of just as fast as the others. Especially working the day shift the time they spent was limited. Bruce got them both lunch, but it wasn't until halfway through eating that Duke had turned to him with panicked eyes and asked if the stew had shellfish. Duke had a severe allergy, thankfully Jason had been just up the street and had an epi-pen ready before they took him to Leslies. (Bruce didnt even know he had any allergies, let alone one so severe)

The worst part? There was no blow up. His kids didn't take his idiocracy as a personal insult or even raise a fight. They just rolled their eyes and moved on. As everyone crowded in the room, surrounding Dukes bedside he could hear Barbras voice. "Its not your fault, Batman may be omnipotent, but Bruce doesn't know anything really"

He wasnt meant to overhear or maybe he was, Oracle had always been petty But he couldn't refute it.

"But you have us"

Well- thats just it wasnt it? Even when Bruce was absent- his kids had each other. But was that ever meant to be enough?

[ryukatters]

drunk in love — s. gojo ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊

⟡ summary: you walk gojo back to his dorm after a night of drinking

⟡ pairing: satoru gojo x gn!reader

⟡ content/warnings: major fluff, underage alcohol consumption, boyfailure gojo, gojo calls reader pretty, mutual pining, drunken confessions, kiss kiss fall in love

⟡ wc: 1.4k

Satoru’s never been great at holding his alcohol.

The first time he got drunk was in secret inside of Suguru’s dorm room, late at night to ensure that there weren’t any teachers (read: Yaga) lingering in the hallway past curfew. His teacher did always seem to have some sort of divine intuition whenever it came to Satoru’s antics.

He had taken one shot and subsequently spat it all out onto the floor.

Satoru’s gotten better at handling his liquor, but he’s still very much a lightweight. That isn’t enough to deter him from refusing any shots Shoko or Suguru throw his way though, which probably isn't a great idea seeing how wasted your friends were. Which is surprising, because they tend to be a little better at handling their alcohol than Satoru. Chalk it up to wanting to celebrate for making it to the end of the school year.

It’s you who’s left to play damage control, considering how you were the only one still standing as the rest of your friends were all passed out on the cold hardwood floor of Shoko’s dorm, aside from one other person who’s currently gripping your leg, staring up at you, pleading like a kicked puppy.

Satoru was just as annoying if not more so when intoxicated. He couldn’t possibly sleep on the cold, hard, wooden floors…

…which is how you end up walking Gojo back to his dorm room. Though walking would be a very generous term, seeing how he’s using you as a human crutch, leaning most of his weight onto you as you struggle to keep the two of you balanced.

You try to usher Gojo onto his bed gently, but the boy seems to be too out of his wits to even do that properly. He unceremoniously flops onto his bed with a thud, banging his head against the wall in the process.

“Owww,” he clutches his head, pouting.

“That’s what you get,” you laugh.

“You’re mean.”

“Mean? I brought you all the way back here when I could have just let you sleep on the floor. That sounds pretty nice to me.”

His bottom lip juts out even further, much to your amusement. His sunglasses are hanging off the bridge of his nose, lopsided. You reach out to place them on his nightstand. His warm hand envelops your wrist before you can draw back, and brings your hand to cup his cheek. Maybe it’s alcohol and your decreased inhibition, or maybe its your own volition, but you can’t find it in you to pull away. You stroke your thumb against his pale, plush cheek, admiring the dimple that likes to make itself known when he smiles, just like he is right now.

Satoru runs warm. You’d think for someone with such an icy appearance and a reputation for being a cold-blooded sorcerer, his body temperature would follow suit. Maybe it’s because that frigidness is Gojo, the strongest, the honored one, and all the epithets that have burdened his shoulders from the minute he was born. But here, with you, he’s just Satoru— a boy with the brightest smile you’ve ever seen, who can’t shoot whiskey, and loves his friends endlessly.

“My head hurts,” he whines.

“Oh, you poor baby,” you faux coo, rubbing your hand against the sore spot that will definitely have a lump tomorrow. Satoru eats it up though, melting into your touch. He’s even clingier when he’s drunk, you realize. Cute, you might even add. But the thought leaves just as soon as it comes. You’re a lot less sober than you thought you were.

Gojo’s voice pulls you out of your drunken daze. “Can you kiss it better f’me?”

“What?”

“Can you kiss…kiss me instead? So it doesn’t hurt anymore?” He slurs.

“Satoru, you’re too drunk.”

“‘m not!” Whatever defense he has for himself fails as a hiccup escapes past his lips. For a second, you think he might fall asleep like this, leaning into you. But then his eyes snap back open with a determined glint.

“Wan’��wanna kiss youuu,” he closes his eyes and puckers his lips, waiting for you to close the gap.

“Satoru…”

Where do you even start? You thought you’d be okay ignoring the budding feeling in your chest that consumes you most days you’re with the white-haired sorcerer. Deflection is the only way you know how to avoid acknowledging whatever this was. And it’s been working, sort of. “You can’t kiss someone you don’t like.”

He pouts even harder at that. “I like someone! I like you,” he says adamantly. “Like, like-like you.”

“Like-like? What are we, in kindergarten?”

You try your best to redirect the conversation, you don’t think you’re ready to face the implications of the fact that one of your best friends has feelings for you. Mutual feelings, you might add— the same feelings that have been eating away at you for months now, and the same feelings you’ve elected to ignore.

He pouts for the umpteenth time tonight before he lets out a huff, falling back onto the mattress. He props himself up on a pillow, peering at you curiously. It’s almost like you can see the gears turn in his head when he smiles deviously, both of his freakishly long arms reaching out to wrap around your waist and bring you flush against him.

You can feel the hot puffs of his breath, and you will yourself to look at him. Satoru’s eyes have always been so easy to get lost in.

He breathes out your name, sickeningly sweet. “I really do like you. You’re so pretty and strong and smart— it drives me a little crazy.” Your head is spinning, and the innate urge to run like you’ve been doing all this time sparks through you, but the grip that Satoru has on you is too strong. “Want you to like me back, I’ll do anything,” he says honestly.

Gojo’s good at the chase, and you’re something he’s in for the long run. You can run and run until there’s nowhere else to go, until your legs refuse to carry you a step further. He’ll always be there to catch you.

His hand traces delicate patterns along the side of your neck, still a bit too far gone to notice how your breath hitches. “I’ll buy you whatever you want, I’ll get you a big house and we can live together forever. I’ll take care of you, do whatever you want. I’ll be so good to you. For you.”

You’re stunned into silence. Your heart is threatening to leap out of your chest. It melts when you look at Satoru, who’s looking at you with all the hope in the world. The moonlight seeping through the blinds of his window casts the most intricate waves of light, illuminating Satoru’s features perfectly.

Satoru thinks he’s holding the world in his arms right now. He’s preparing himself for rejection, but it’s alright, he thinks— because he’s good at everything he tries and he’s willing to try and try again and again for you, just for the chance to be yours.

“Tell me that again in the morning when you’re sober,” you whisper, as if you’re afraid someone else could hear you within the confines of Satoru’s room. Like the weight of your words were a secret you couldn’t bear to let anyone else in on, except for one person— your one and only.

You take a leap of faith. You plant your hands on his chest to steady yourself, placing a chaste kiss on Satoru’s forehead— a symbol of assurance of your love for him— something that’s been a part of you from the very moment you met him.

Satoru’s heart squeezes in anticipation. He hugs you even tighter, laughing at the yelp of surprise you let out. He has never felt as more of a winner than he does right now. “I’ll tell you everything sober or drunk,” he promises, unable to contain his giddiness as you (finally!) let him pepper kisses all over your face.

“Everything, as long as it’s with you.”

a/n: gojo can not handle hard liquor so he’s drunk off of some (shots of) smirnoff ice 😎

[hahaifolded]

141 x POC!GN Intelligence Operative - The Contract (Long Drabble) Author's Notes: Once again playing with something new. Not gonna lie, hated this because this was more work than I had expected. Next one will be more narrative for my sake Warnings: MDNI, Angst (ALSO PUT YOUR AGE IN YOUR BIO CAUSE I DO BLOCK)

Contract of Employment - Intelligence Operative Name: [Retracted] Address: [Retracted] The basic terms and conditions of your employment are outlined in this Contract of Employment and the Employee's policies. Duration of Contract: Your employment with the Employer under this Contract started on [Retracted] and will end after 12 months after the initial date. Contract can be renewed after the Employee ends in good standing with the Employer after the 12 months and the Employee deems it a good fit.

Job Title and Hours 3.1: You are employed as INTELLIGENCE OPERATIVE for [Retracted] reporting to "the Captain." 3.2: You are expected to perform all duties outlined below starting at 0800 (8:00am) to 1700 (5pm) Monday through Friday. 3.3: You must be available for any extenuating circumstances past these hours. All emergencies will be informed by "the Captain" and "the Captain" only.

Price: Need you to review the plan for the next mission before the meeting tomorrow.

Ghost groans after reading the message. Price just had to ruin his Sunday night. Realizing that his plan to sleep in was just ruined, he decides to text you. Seeing that you normally got in around that hour, maybe you could join him?

Did he deserve that? God no. But, he missed you. So he sends the text and waits... and waits... and waits...

Next thing he knew, his alarm was ringing, signaling the new day. He checks his phone and sees there are no new messages. It didn't matter. He'll see you around soon enough.

But soon enough comes around and you're nowhere to be seen. Were you running late? Shit, your car. Maybe you were walking again? He sends you a text, but again, no response. He's so worried that he can't even focus when looking over the plans. It's not until he sees you walk in for the meeting exactly at 0800 that his mind eases. Surprised to see you walk in late, he decided to check up on you after the meeting.

Knock, knock

You glance up from your monitor. "Lieutenant?"

Lieutenant? Sure, that was his title, but you always called him Ghost. Something didn't feel right.

"Sorry, I just wanted to check up on you."

You stop typing and completely turn towards him. "Why?" Your tone is accusatory.

He stumbles a bit. You were never short with him. "C-cause you came in late toda--"

"I did not come in late. If you look over my contract, you would see that my start time is 0800, exactly the time I clocked in today." You turn back to your monitor and continue to work.

Ghost takes a big gulp. "Oh. I- uh... I sent you message last night and this morning."

You let out a heavy sigh and stop typing. "Was it an emergency?"

"No, but--"

"Good. I can't waste any time here, have to make sure I put all of my energy in my work. So if you don't have anything else of importance, you can leave." And with that you continue to type.

Ghost walks out of your office and closes the door. Why did it feel like it wasn't just your door that was closed here?

Job Responsibilities 4.1: You are responsible for all work that requires intelligence which includes analysis, gathering of intel, and presentation of said intel. 4.2: You will not participate in work that falls outside your jurisdiction.

After today's meeting, Gaz was weary of the plan. Despite being checked by Ghost, he couldn't help but feel like it needed to be discussed further. He kept in his thoughts during the meeting as he wanted to process them further.

Now after thinking about it all morning, he realizes he needs one more brain to help finalize his thoughts. Not just any brain, however, yours. If he wasn't so caught up in his thoughts, he would have realized that he no longer had any entitlement to your help. But alas without a second thought, he rushes to your office.

He knocks on your door and walks in before you have a chance to say anything. "Hello, hello!" he chirps. And, instead of being greeted by your warm smile, he is greeted by nothing. You don't even bother to glance at him.

Without removing your eyes on the screen, you say with no emotion, "Sergeant Garrick, what do you need?"

Sergeant Garrick? Ewe, that sounded so wrong coming out of your mouth. You always called him Kyle... Gaz if you felt cheeky. Feeling nervous now, Gaz hesitates to speak.

"Sergeant, I really don't have time for your shenanigans. Do you need something?" You quickly glance up and shoot him a sharp look.

That look brings Kyle to the present. "Sorry, yes. I was hoping you would..." You finally look at him, but instead of easing his nerves, it only exacerbated them as you looked at him with annoyance. "If you can, obviously, help me go over the plans for the next mission. Something about them just seem off and I could really--"

You interrupt him. "I have to stop you there. No." And just like that, you turn back to your monitor.

"Why?" he asks without thinking. He catches the way you took in a sharp breath.

Without looking at him, you respond, "I have never been in the field so what use do I have for you? Besides my job is in intelligence and in intelligence only."

He cringes at his own words. He tries to get another word in, but you're clearly not listening. Feeling defeated, he walks out your door.

"Sergeant?" you call after him. He quickly whips around. Maybe you changed your mind?

"Close my door."

Job Responsibilities 5.1: You have jurisdiction over all work that deals with intelligence. 5.2: You have complete authority to discipline officers of lower ranking or similar rank if their actions interfere with your responsibilities.

Soap doesn't know how it happened. He has been in his office all day, working. Sure, maybe he spent more time than he should have thinking about you, but everyone else does it. Now he was scrambling, trying to finalize the schematics for the explosives needed for the next mission.

Low on time, he rushes to your office to beg for your help. He knew he was in deep water with you, but he really had no choice. He hoped your caring heart would pity him this one last time.

He barges into your office, calling your name out. You immediately shoot up from your seat, worry apparent in your face. You hurry to the front of your desk to reach the panting Scotsman.

"Sergeant MacTavish, is everything okay?" Johnny can hear the worry in your voice. Good, you still might care.

"It's an emergency. I need to finish these blueprints by today or Price will kill me! Help your favorite Scotsman out?" he begs. Soap nearly whines when you take a step back from him.

You scoff. "Are you being serious right now?" Okay, maybe you don't care.

"I know, I know. But I wouldn't ask if I wasn't desperate," he cries. His entire body shudders when you scoff at him once more. You shake your head in disbelief and return to your seat.

"Please, get out."

"Please, it's not even a lot. Just go over--"

"No, Sergeant. I have my own work to do."

"It won't take a lot of time, just--"

"NO!" you stand up again, slamming your desk. "Sergeant MacTavish, it is not in my contract to babysit fools like you." He winces. "If you cannot handle the work that comes with being in Special Forces, I recommend you to consider other careers. So leave my office before I write you up for insubordination," you hiss.

Soap quickly apologizes and leaves your office. He bumps into Price on his way back, but it doesn't phase him. Your utter disappointment in him plays back in his head over and over and over again.

Breach of Contract 8.1: If Employer deems the work of the Employee as unsatisfactory, contract will immediately be terminated. 8.2: If Employee deems the Employer is breaching any of the parts outlined above, Employee has the right to terminate the contract without any repercussions

John didn't take Soap crashing into him personal. It was clear his sergeant was lost in his thoughts. What did pique his interest was where he walked out of. It seemed like every member on his team had a chance to pop in your office today, but him. Refusing to let any of those muppets get in your good graces before he does, he decided to pop in.

Since Johnny left you door open, he just knocks on the doorway before letting himself in. "Hopefully, I'm not disturbing?" he jokes. The clacking of your keyboard stops and you slowly turn to look at him. You take in a deep breath, almost as if you're trying to contain yourself.

"Captain Price," you announce plainly, "do you need something? I'm almost done with today's report."

"No, not at all. Just wanted to check up on you. See how you're doing?" He doesn't quite catch what you mumbled under your breath. "Sorry?"

You roll your eyes. "Nothing," you pause. "I'm fine. Just trying to get my work done before 5pm."

"5pm? Have an appointment or something?"

You stare at him for a bit and remind him of your contracted hours.

Assuming that you were worried about not finishing on time, John assures you that you can always stay in late or pick up again tomorrow. "It happens to the best of us."

Your eyes go cold. "It wouldn't have happened to me if your men and yourself weren't adamant in harassing me with matters that frankly do not pertain to me." You readjust yourself in your seat. "I advise all of you to go over my contract to avoid further misunderstandings. I would hate to leave mid-mission."

John goes cold. You... leaving. He looks in your eyes to see if there was any hesitation. There’s none.

Employer Signature: [Retracted] Employee Signature: [Retracted] Date: [Retracted]

After that day, the 141 realized what they had done. They had completely crushed your spirit and pushed you to be the epitome of professionalism. You were still a phenomenal Intelligence Officer, but you were just that. You were no longer their team mate... their friend.

But you're still here so that's fine... right?

Word Count: 1732

More Thoughts - Next Thought

[obxsummer]

selfish // ghost of you

navigation -- series masterlist

pairing: jj maybank x routledge!reader (she/her)

summary: covering the 18 months after el dorado, the pogues are home and are attempting to work through life back in kildare. you're dealing with your trauma setting in, and jj's usual reckless decisions are not helpful in the slightest. oh, and it's time to treasure hunt. again.

warnings: s4 spoilers! for episode one, violence, cursing, the usual obx. heavy mentions of trauma/depression/anxiety/ptsd.

-- So, you might be wondering. What happens after you find the lost city of El Dorado, get blown up, two of your parents die, and you’re stranded in South America with a sack full of gold? Let’s catch up.

First, you catch a ride back home, and you sleep for like three weeks. And then when you finally get back, you make peace with the fam… or not really. And after all the loose ends are tied up, the gold.

$1,172,549…Enough money to get you back on your feet and taken care of after what had been the most insane chase of your life. Pope was the mastermind that pieced together a plan and after a heated, overpriced auction, you stood in front of the old Maybank property that had been transformed into a dream. A surf shop, JJ’s new boat, a dock, and a house full of love and friendship.

Granted, things got iffy and your plethora of money dropped quickly (no thanks to JJ’s poor budgeting), and you were already tight in terms of keeping the business alive. So, you were laying low and helping where you could.

While you were glad to be home and no longer on the run, it didn’t keep away the haunting memories that followed. This was the first time since John B went missing that you’d been able to sit with your thoughts and try to process everything that happened. And it wasn’t easy.

“Hey there, sweet thing.”

You glanced up from your spot on the hammock, having been dozing in and out of sleep for a few minutes now. JJ stood in the doorway, his cutoff shirt framing his tanned skin nicely as you smiled up at him.

“Hi.”

He moved to meet you, lips pressing against yours in a warm, feverish kiss. The two of you had just spent the weekend away in Savannah, Georgia while the other Pogues placed the finishing touches on the property and store for opening. They were more than happy to send the two of you off for time away since you were both more touchy and lovey than you had been in a while. It was the vacation you needed and deserved.

“You coming to the race?” JJ’s voice was raspy and he sat on the netting next to you. It was the annual Kildare Enduro, one that JJ loved to get involved in and you loved to watch, but after his last biking accident, you were a bit nervous.

Your fingers messed with the hair behind his neck as you hummed in agreement, pulling him back down to your lips. “Not happy about you racing on that bike but yes, I’m coming.”

One of the few things you all allowed was for John B and JJ to pick out a new dirt bike, given the fact that you only had the Twinkie as reliable transportation. Now all three of the boys had their own, so as long as the van kept running, the six of you had a fair chance.

“You love me on the bike, baby.”

You chuckled at JJ’s words, giving him another kiss before rolling off the hammock to prevent yourself from falling asleep. “I love seeing you on the bike, J. Don’t love you racing on it.”

The beach was slammed with bikes, trucks, and tents for the racers and crowd of the day when you all arrived. You and Kie business yourself grabbing lemonade as Cleo and John B made sure JJ’s bike was ready to go. 

“How was your trip?” Kie asked as she shoved her reusable straw into the lemonade cup after politely declining the plastic ones the cashier had offered. 

You pushed your sunglasses up and sipped your drink as the two of you started walking back to where the Twinkie was parked. “So nice and peaceful. We didn’t do too much but it was a welcomed change in the chaos.”

Your eyes caught sight of Topper Thornton in his red racing gear, no doubt having a stare-off with your boyfriend. The thought of JJ out there racing against Kooks who clearly had a bone to pick with you guys didn’t help your anxiety.

Sarah thanked you as you handed her a lemonade before sitting in the back of the van which had been pulled up to the makeshift track so you all could watch. Being in this new rhythm had been so odd for you, especially after you started to make peace with the idea that you would never have this sort of “normal” again.

“Did you know?”

You looked up to see your brother, John B, staring back at you with a frustrated frown on his face. He had pulled on his racing jacket, which added to your confusion, but you could tell he was pissed at something. And just like that, things had gone to shit again.

You glanced at Sarah, who looked just as confused before shaking your head. “What are you talking about?”

John B sighed and stepped closer, crouching in front of you. His demeanor changed when you tensed, not knowing what was happening. “Did you know JJ bet the gold?”

“He what?” Your voice was deep and angry. JJ’s lack of self-control when it came to spending money had become severely frustrating for all of you, especially when he spent so much to reclaim his house when it wasn’t worth over half of it. “Please tell me you’re lying, JB.”

He didn’t answer and instead, got to his feet to grab the handles of his own bike that had been driven over.

“John B!” You set your lemonade down and quickly got to your feet as Kiara started cussing out JJ’s behavior, Sarah mumbling her agreement. “Are you serious?”

Your brother stopped short, his eyes searching yours as if he could say everything without speaking. He knew you were already anxious about JJ racing, and putting both of them in there was slowly becoming a fearful experience for you. It didn’t make you feel any better when Rafe settled into a spot next to Topper on his bike, revving his engine to make a scene.

“I’ve got him, okay? We’re gonna make it work.”

You didn’t say anything else, watching as he made his way to the starting line and leaving you between two heated girls who had their glares set on your boyfriend.

It had been hard for you to adjust after nearly dying multiple times while in South America. You’d had a lot of talking sessions amongst each other as a group to cope with it, making sure everyone aired all their emotions when they needed to. Even as though you were practically adults, life was still scary, and you’d had too many breakdowns to not acknowledge it.

JJ had taken most of the nightmares and sleepless nights you’d been cursed with, talking you through every bit of it until you would fall back asleep. John B did his best to pull you out of your head, clocking the look on your face when you’d get too deep and try to pull away. He meant it when he said he was working on being better for everyone, but especially you.

It was a process, but it was working. Slowly but surely, you were healing. It weighed on you mentally, but you were so appreciative to have the support you did.

So, watching the two boys you loved the most get into a race with people that hated you, was scary. 

“They’ll be fine,” Sarah reassured as she watched her own boyfriend pull his helmet on before adjusting his bandana around his face. “Does JJ ever think before he does anything?”

“No, never,” You were quick to answer, crossing your arms over your chest. “Not even once.”

Kie wordlessly held her joint out to you, which you took with no objection. This was slowly becoming a horror movie as they took off from the starting line, the roar of the bikes overwhelming as sand flew up behind them. You kept your eyes on JJ and John B as long as you could until they disappeared over the hill and into the treeline. 

“We’ve got some serious contact in the brush. Oh, and it sounds like Topper didn’t like Maybank crowding him there. Taught him a little lesson. Stuffed him like a turkey!”

You groaned, burying your face into your hands as the announcer covered the parts of the races you couldn’t see behind the trees. Not only was JJ losing, he was losing badly.

“It looks like they’re turning around the buoy. We’ve got Rafe Cameron still in front ahead of the group of riders. Cameron seems to have things well in hand. No mistakes and he should take home the Kildare Enduro. There’s Maybank bringing up the rear. Tough race for him and oh, he’s down again in the deep sand!”

Kiara groaned loudly this time. “Fucking shit, JJ!”

“Wait, what’s he doing?” You caught on to the fact that JJ wasn’t slowing down to make the left-handed turn that would put him en route with everyone else and instead had set his eyes straight ahead where the inlet met the track. “Are we seriously doing this again?”

Sarah grabbed your hand, squeezing tightly as JJ approached the jump at full speed. As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t take your eyes off the scene as he threw himself and the bike in the air, managing to catch the ground just ahead of Rafe.

“Holy shit!” Cleo yelled as JJ pushed forward, everyone bursting into cheers as he held the lead. The remaining racers turned the corner and you caught sight of John B nearing Topper, the two pushing each other for the next spot. 

Rafe managed to catch up to JJ quicker than you would’ve liked as they hit the final stretch. Things were looking up and you fought the glimmer of hope bubbling in your chest that this may all end up in your favor.

Until Rafe’s tire nudged JJ’s and sent both of them flying in the air. 

“Jay!” You were moving before you realized, only to get tugged back by Sarah and Pope from interfering as more racers caught up. JJ was moving though, and that was the only part you really cared about. 

John B came flying into view next, barely stopping in time to miss JJ’s crumbled form that was in the sand, which gave Topper the door to win. You couldn’t even care about that though, and as soon as the bikes cleared you were flying forward to your boys on the track. You made it to them as John B pulled JJ from the ground, your boyfriend shoving your brother angrily as he mouthed off. 

“Hey!” You yelled and grabbed JJ’s arm to move him as he tossed his helmet aside angrily. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

JJ shook his head and continued separating himself from the group. “I don’t want to hear it right now.”

“Then you’re going to fucking hear it later, JJ!” You shouted after him, anger overtaking your anxiety as the adrenaline wore off. So much could’ve gone wrong and you could’ve lost more than the money. You glared at him, angry tears burning your eyes as he continued to walk away as if it didn’t matter. 

“Hey, hey.” John B’s arm wrapped around your shoulder, tugging you back into his chest as he turned you away from the sight of your retreating boyfriend. “He’s fine, we’re fine. That’s all that matters.”

“Get used to it.” A raspy voice cut off your response to your brother as you shifted to see Rafe pulling himself off the ground next to you. 

“What’d you say?” John B’s hold disappeared from around you before he moved forward to confront the older Kook with a shove. “Nah, man. What’d you say?”

Rafe hit John B back, both boys ready to start a fight instantly before Sarah jumped in between them. “Hey!” 

“This is forever, alright?” Rafe screamed, backing up a few paces. His face was burning red with anger and you feared he would lash out right in front of you. “Y’all don’t get to win.”

You shook your head, placing your hand on John B’s shoulder to keep him back. “We never get to win, Rafe. In case you haven’t fucking noticed.”

“You could’ve killed each other!” Sarah yelled back at him as she continued to force her brother away from your group. 

Rafe pulled himself out of her grip and shook his head. “Yeah, like you give a shit. You gonna kill me like you killed Dad?”

Your eyes widened as Sarah attempted to defend herself from the comment, but Rafe had already walked out of hearing range. Your friends crowded around the three of you, JJ still in his own head behind the crowd where you left him. 

John B shook his head, running his hand through his hair. The last hour had really wiped him out, physically and emotionally. “We are so screwed.”

Kiara nodded in agreement, the displeasure evident on her face. “Yeah. We are.”

“Why are we screwed?”

The question coming from Pope made you sigh and dig your palms into your eyes in frustration. This was the worst outcome possible for something that was supposed to be fun. 

“Just come on, let’s go.” John B led the group back to the van as Pope pushed for an answer that none of you were willing to give yet. Kie busied herself tossing the lawn chairs in the van, John B taking a seat on his bike and replacing his helmet as Sarah waited for him. 

“Do you want me to get him?” Cleo asked you as she nudged her head in JJ’s direction. You followed her movement to see the boy cussing at himself, kicking sand, and throwing an angry fit.

It broke your heart, but you shook your head. “Leave him, he can come home once he’s calmed down.”

That was another thing that had taken a lot of time to figure out, was how to separate yourself from everyone’s emotions. You were such an empathetic person that you wanted to solve the problems and help everyone, but it had taken its own toll for so long that you needed to end the habit. JJ included. As much as you wanted to run over and hug him and tell him it was fine, it wasn’t. 

It wasn’t until you guys were back home, John B and Sarah following the van on his bike, that Pope approached the subject again. “Someone better tell me what happened before I lose it.”

Shoving the passenger door open, you forced yourself out of the car, knowing the rage was coming quickly. “JJ bet the last of the gold on himself for the race.”

Silence echoed for a moment. 

“What the fuck!”

--

The rampage of Pope Heyward was well deserved. The poor boy had done so much to try and extend the gold payout as best as possible and lost in every way. So when JJ resurfaced at Poguelandia 2.0, all hell broke loose. 

“I said it. I said it once, and I said it again. I said don’t touch the last of our nugget. That was it. That was the last of our savings! Do you not care?”

JJ spun around in a fury, his body scratched and dirty with sand from the crash. “Pope, you saw what happened, man! He stole it, okay? He cheated and he stole it. That’s not my fault, Pope.”

“Do you know how selfish you sound?”

JJ laughed, which just pissed everyone off further. “I sound selfish? I was trying to help us.”

“You helped us, you just cost us everything. Thank you!”

You curled into the sleeves of your sweater as you watched your boyfriend pace. How he thought none of this was his fault was crazy. “Jayj, why are you making it sound like you had nothing to do with it?”

He looked at you and all the anger disappeared from his face, leaving the vulnerable boy you loved so much with tears in his eyes. “Okay, babe. Babe. You know me. Okay? I was gonna bet it all. That’s who I am.”

Kiara scoffed from next to you, “You should’ve talked to us first! It was too risky this time.”

“And what were you doing?” Pope’s anger turned toward John B, who instantly went wide eye at the attack. “You knew he had it and you just let him race?”

“He told me last minute, alright?” Your brother attempted to defend himself but it fell on silent ears.

“John B, look, man. You were supposed to cover-!”

“I did cover!”

The arguing escalated loudly between all three boys until you covered your hands over your ears to block it out. You’d never faired well with yelling since everything happened with Rafe, and hearing it from the people you loved made it worse even if it wasn’t directed at you.

Cleo took one look at you and shut it down. “Hey, enough!” Her voice echoed around the space, effectively chopping the harsh words that were being through. “How bad is it, Pope?”

“How bad is it?” Pope repeated the question as he faced her. “We have a $13,000 property tax payment due in seven days. And we have zero working capital. There is nothing. And you took the last of our savings, so thank you.”

Silence followed the heaviness of his voice before he left you all outside. You winced at the severity of JJ’s actions, knowing these consequences affected all of you and it wasn’t like the hot tub episode at the Chateau where it was a rough purchase. 

JJ called your name, breaking you from your thoughts as you looked up at him. His eyes were still red and clouded with tears. “Baby…”

“I’m going to go for a little bit. I’ll be back before dark.” You didn’t leave room for argument, instead taking off in the direction of the dock where the HMS Pogue was. 

You weren’t trying to give anyone the cold shoulder, but you promised yourself you would try to be better about handling your emotions on your own. You needed to process and take care of yourself alone sometimes.

“Hey,” Pope’s voice was soft as you caught sight of him in the boat, looking out over the water. Seems the two of you had the same idea to come out here. He whispered your name when you didn’t answer or say anything. 

You shrugged, climbing in to sit near him as you pulled your sleeves over your hands. “I’m trying.”

“You’re okay.” Pope’s affirmation sent you into tears. Your knees pulled to your chest as you let out a shaky breath. He didn’t hesitate to wrap you into a hug, letting you cry softly. 

“I’m trying really hard,” You breathed out, hating how weak your voice came out. “It’s like the second a voice raises I shut down and-and-”

Pope held you tightly against him, allowing you to have time to get your emotions out. These panic episodes happened more often than you’d like since you had all gotten home an you felt so embarrassed for your friends to deal with them. 

“Just breathe, I’ve got you. I promise.” 

Pope had become an anchor for you since the moment that was shared on the plane to Orinocco. When it had been revealed that you felt left behind after John B disappeared, he took it personally to help where and when he could. You had always been like a sibling to him and it broke his heart to know you were struggling so much.

The two of you sat there for a few until you caught your breath and recentered. The air was brisk as you drove the HMS through the marsh, taking in the sunset as you did. As much as you loved JJ, you were disappointed he had made this decision on his own. He was trying to help, he always was, but sometimes it just didn’t go that way.

“I’m sorry about JJ,” You said as Pope slowed down for the final stretch before the dock. “I know he means well, but it doesn’t always turn out that way.”

Pope shook his head softly. “I know he does too, but his impulse will be the death of him.”

Unfortunately, you didn’t disagree.

--

The house was relatively quiet as you walked in, quietly thanking Pope before making your way up to your shared bedroom with JJ. You could hear the shower running, the light poking from under the door along with soft music that told you that Sarah was likely inside. The bedroom door creeked quietly as you opened it. JJ’s figure was sitting in your floating egg chair, the one thing you’d asked for at the thrift shop. 

“Hi,” You greeted quietly. He immediately looked up, relief flooding his body at the sight of you as he got to his feet.

“I’m so sorry, I-”

You held your hand up, intercepting whatever he was going to say. “Jayj, I know you are. And I love you, but I really don’t want to talk about this right now. Okay?”

His hope deflated but he nodded regardless. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Um, Kie made salad. There’s leftovers in the fridge. I can… I can sleep on the couch if you want.”

You shook your head softly, giving him a small smile before wrapping your arms around his neck gently. “After today, there’s nothing more I want than to hold you and make sure you’re okay. So no, you’re sleeping here. Now come on, macho. Let’s clean up those cuts and get your ass to bed.” 

And then our luck turned, and the Outer Banks Sentinel wrote about us and our journey. They finally excavated the cave we blew up and suddenly, we’re heroes. It’s pretty weird, to be honest. After the ceremony, this old guy named Wes Genrette came up to us with a request. He invited us to his private estate to discuss his proposition. So, here we are. Eighteen months after finding El Dorado, on our way to Goat Island. Back in the G game, for what we hoped was the last time.

--

navigation -- series masterlist

a/n: and we're back!!! send ideas, send requests, and let the angst begin !!!!

[ak319]

Lovesick Childhood friend x f!reader

Headcanon / Intro

Warnings: This story contains matriarchal themes, fem dom such as mpreg, fem dominated world, role reversal, and BXG pairing! Yes, it's a boy x girl, so don't interact if you are uncomfortable! Gonna have historical themes, little age gap (3 years) in terms of historical times, heavy angst, fluff, pining, and drama. The art is not mine, it's from Pinterest. Enjoy reading. ─ m.lists

"but you know what they say,

you can't help who you fall for

and you and I fell

like an early spring snow...."

─────────

1917

"Orsen, you’d better finish your food before you run off to play. Got it?"

"Yes, Papa!" Orsen nodded dutifully, but his gaze betrayed him, fixed on the window behind his father. His eight-year-old eyes sparkled with mischief as he struggled to suppress giggles. Out in the garden, you were pulling faces and breaking into an exaggerated, clumsy dance, clearly determined to make him laugh.

He had to finish his food quickly, before his father noticed anything. From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of you getting a light smack on the back of your head from your mother, the estate gardener, who scolded you for goofing off. Orsen bit his lip to stifle a grin.

Without a second thought, he wolfed down the rest of his meal. His father’s disapproving gaze burned into him as he muttered something about unmanly behavior and lack of etiquette. But Orsen didn’t care, not one bit. Ignoring the reprimands, he dashed out of the room when his plate was empty, proving his father right in the process.

But none of that mattered. He’d kept you waiting long enough already.

"Finally! You eat too slow and... way too much for someone the size of a squirrel," you teased, crossing your arms with a smirk.

That earned you a swift smack on the chest from Orsen, who clearly had plenty of energy to spare. Ah, so that’s where it all goes, you thought with a grin.

"COME ON! LET'S START WITH A GAME OF CHASE, THEN HIDE-AND-SEEK!"

"You’re on!" you replied with mock seriousness, already taking off before Orsen could fully process the challenge.

And just like that, playtime began. You were eleven, three years older than him, and yeah, yeah, people might wonder why you spent your afternoons running around with the eight-year-old son of Lady Isolde. Because you were made to since he needed a playmate. You didn’t mind and if you were being honest, it was fun.

"You're too slow, Orsen!" you call out, weaving between the trees with practiced ease.

"I'm not slow! You're just taller!" Orsen huffs, his golden hair flying behind him like a ribbon as he tries to catch up. His laughter rings out, light and carefree, as he nearly trips over a tree root.

"Excuses, excuses," you tease, pausing just long enough for him to barrel into you, both of you tumbling to the ground in a heap.

"I got you!" Orsen declares, his soft hands gripping your arms triumphantly a stark comparison to yours , rough from helping your mother around the estate with tasks.

"You tackled me, not tagged me!" you laugh, sitting up and brushing dirt off your knees. "That’s against the rules."

"There are no rules in chase," he replies matter-of-factly, flicking his long blond hair over his shoulder like some princeling—and it makes you snort.

"Fine. No rules, huh? Then how about this?" Without warning, you spring to your feet and scoop him up by the waist, spinning him around while he squeals with laughter.

"Put me down, you IDIOT! I’ll get you back for this!"

"Sure you will," you grin, finally setting him down. His face is red from laughing so hard, but he immediately points to the swing hanging from the old oak tree nearby.

"Your turn to push me!"

"Your turn? When was it my turn?" you ask, feigning exasperation but already making your way to the swing.

Orsen is already climbing onto it. You steady the ropes for him, watching as he gets comfortable, his small hands gripping tightly. "Ready?"

"Ready!"

With a firm push, you send the swing into motion, the wood creaking softly under Orsen’s weight. He leans back, his laughter filling the air as the wind tousles his golden locks. "Higher!" he demands, his voice bright and full of life.

"Careful, you’ll go flying straight into the bushes," you joke, though you give him another push, watching as his laughter spills into the air like music.

"And you’d rescue me," he counters, turning his head to flash you a grin.

"Obviously," you reply, rolling your eyes but smiling despite yourself. Or else your mother would make soup out of my bones if you even got a scratch.

"See? I’m safe as long as you’re here," he says, his voice lighter, softer, as the swing slows with the waning light. The golden glow of the setting sun paints him in warm hues, his hair a tousled mess, his cheeks pink from play.

You ruffle his hair as he climbs off the swing, earning an indignant squeak. "We should do this every day," he murmurs, looking up at you with those wide, trusting eyes that seem to hold the whole world.

"Yeah," you say quietly, a fond smile tugging at your lips. "Every day, Orsen."

And in that moment, you mean it.

1922

"Brother Orsen?" Rowan called, tugging at his older brother’s sleeve. "She’s calling for you."

Orsen, now 13, was sitting in front of his vanity, carefully sorting through his collection of accessories. He didn’t bother looking up, too absorbed in his task.

The 5-year-old huffed, folding his arms. "She’s calling you to play, not to do a fashion show."

"SHUSH! Rowan, come here for a second!" Orsen snapped, his tone light but firm. Rowan grumbled under his breath but walked over, clearly itching to be anywhere but here.

"Okay, so listen," Orsen began, lowering his voice even further as he picked up a necklace from his collection. "Which one should I wear?"

"Necklace?" Rowan blinked, his frustration barely contained. "You’re gonna wear a necklace to play?"

Orsen rolled his eyes dramatically. "Look, we are not playing instead (Y/N) is taking me out to see a play! To a theatre!"

Rowan’s expression softened at the mention of (Y/N)'s name. "A play? Really?"

"Yes, really!" Orsen grinned, his tone proud but slightly embarrassed. "It’s a big deal. I want to look my best."

Rowan exclaimed, his voice rising in disbelief before quickly quieting down. "B-but mama and papa aren’t home! They told us to stay inside the manor, and what about the stupid nanny? I’m so over him-"

"This is exactly what I’m telling you!" Orsen pleaded, his voice low but desperate. "Just cover up for me, please! And even if Elias finds out, he won’t get mad or tell anyone, I swear, but the other servants, they can’t know, got it?"

Rowan frowned, clearly conflicted. "Are you going on... what mama and papa go to? What’s it called... um... a date?"

Orsen’s ears turned bright red, and a warmth spread through him, making his heart race in an unfamiliar way. His hand paused mid-air, the necklace he was holding slipping slightly as his mind began to swirl. A date. Was it a date? His chest tightened, a fluttering sensation moving through him. He tried to push it down, telling himself it was ridiculous. It was just (Y/N). But still... the thought of being alone with her, of seeing her smile...of being beside her...sitting so close to her...

"Ugh, I-" Orsen’s voice faltered, and he cleared his throat, hoping Rowan wouldn’t notice the redness creeping up his neck. "It’s not a date, okay? Just... something like that."

Rowan raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it, but he sighed dramatically and crossed his arms. "Fine, fine, I’ll cover for you. But you owe me big time, Orsen."

Orsen smiled, his heart still racing. "Thanks, Rowan. You’re the best."

Rowan shot him a sly grin before walking out of the room. "Just don’t get caught, alright?"

Orsen watched him go, still feeling the heat of that unexpected moment, his thoughts full of the image of (Y/N) waiting for him. A date... He could only hope she saw it that way too.

The sunlight poured through the trees, casting long shadows on the garden path as you stood by the gate, tapping your foot impatiently. Orsen was late—again. You couldn’t help but smirk, leaning casually against the stone wall, arms crossed and eyes scanning the road ahead.

You had to admit, though, it was kind of cute how he always managed to show up just a little bit after you, acting like you weren’t already getting a head start on your impatience. He always had that timid, apologetic look on his face, but it was like he couldn't help it. It was endearing, even if it drove you crazy sometimes.

Finally, you spotted him.

When he saw you, his face broke into that shy smile, the one that always made your stomach flip, and you couldn’t stop yourself from teasing him.

“Took you long enough,” you called out with a cocky grin, straightening up as he came closer. “Did your vanity mirror take longer than usual?”

Orsen flushed, immediately looking down at the ground, his fingers nervously brushing at the edge of his shirt. He bit his lip, clearly flustered. “I-I wasn’t... I mean, I was just making sure I looked decent,” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. "And...was just convincing Rowan to cover up."

“It’s fine,” you assured him, though you couldn’t stop the teasing note that slipped into your voice. “But I almost thought you weren’t going to show.”

He looked genuinely apologetic, his blue eyes wide and full of that quiet sincerity that always made your heart twist a little. “I wouldn’t leave you waiting, (Y/N),” he murmured, his hand tugging nervously at the sleeve of his shirt. “I promise.”

You felt the warmth in his words more than anything else, and it made your smile falter for just a second. Orsen was the kind of person who always tried to do the right thing, even when it wasn’t easy. He wasn’t like the other boys in the town, so confident and sure of themselves. No, Orsen was gentle, and careful, always thinking about others before himself. You could see that quiet, understanding gaze under his straw cartwheel hat , in the way he looked at you now.

“Well, if you’re sure,” you said, your voice softening, “we should probably get going before someone else notices, huh?”

“Yeah,” Orsen agreed, his expression turning a little more serious as he looked over his shoulder. He glanced up and down the street, making sure no one was watching, before taking a step closer to you. “Are you sure about this? I know it’s... a little risky.”

You hesitated, feeling the weight of your decision in the pit of your stomach, but when you looked at Orsen’s face, you felt a little lighter. There was no teasing now, no jokes, just his quiet concern, and for once, it made you feel like maybe this was worth it. You nodded.

“I’m sure,” you whispered back, then added with a hint of a smile, “It’ll be fun.”

“You really are...” He shook his head, his lips curving into a smile despite himself. “I don’t know how you do it.”

“Do what?” You raised an eyebrow, giving him a challenging look. “Make everything seem like it’s no big deal? Maybe because it’s not. And you’re going to learn that today.”

He hesitated for a moment, but when you stepped forward and grabbed his sleeve to pull him toward the playhouse, he followed without protest.

Orsen’s heart skipped a beat as your hand enveloped his, and the warmth of your touch sent a flutter of butterflies through him. His breath caught in his throat, and he couldn’t help but glance at you, his face turning a shade darker. He wasn’t sure why something as simple as you holding his hand made him feel so nervous, but it did. It wasn’t just the physical touch, it was the way you kept him close, guiding him gently, as if taking care of him.

You pulled him to the side of the sidewalk, positioning him on the inside to keep him safe from the traffic and the bustle of the crowd. He felt a sudden surge of warmth at how protective you were being, even if it was just a small gesture. His chest tightened in a way he couldn’t explain, and his steps faltered slightly as you kept him close to you, shielding him from the rest of the world.

His heart raced, faster than it should have, as his mind wandered to those quiet moments when you became reserved, especially during functions. When he told you he was going to one or whenever they were held at the estate, your demeanor always seemed to shift. He noticed the way your gaze would turn sharp and distant, your movements brisk and careful, as though you were trying to shrink away. He hated it.

He hated seeing you as just part of the crowd, working tirelessly around the estate, your hands busy with tasks instead of resting in his. Most of all, he hated the functions themselves. Because while you were stuck there, unspoken and unnoticed, he was dolled up, standing with the sons and daughters of elites, smiling politely in a world that felt hollow. And maybe… maybe you hated that too.

Maybe you hated seeing him like that, all pretty, polished, and mingling with other people, particularly the daughters of noble families, ones his parents made sure he was somewhat acquainted with. Maybe you thought he belonged in that world, with them, rather than here with you.

The thought made his steps falter. A pang of desperation hit him. If only you knew. If only you knew that no crowd, no daughter of any elite, could ever hold his attention like you did.

To him, it didn’t matter how the world saw you or him, what mattered was this. You, walking beside him. You, pulling him to the safer side of the sidewalk. You, shielding him, even when you didn’t know that he was already yours.

At the theatre gate, you hesitated briefly before pulling out the money, the ache in your chest barely masked by the small smile you gave. Each coin was hard-earned, saved from days of labor at the Elaris estate and neighboring homes. As you handed it over, Orsen stepped closer, his hand brushing lightly against yours for just an instant. The gesture was fleeting but warm, like a silent promise that you were not alone.

“(Y/N)... I know it’s not much, but-” He started to say, then hesitated, biting his lip. “I really appreciate you doing this. For both of us.”

You smiled at him, a little softer this time. “You don’t have to thank me, Orsen,” you said gently. “I want to do this.”

His eyes softened, and he looked away briefly, cheeks flushing just a bit. “You always know how to make me feel... better,” he muttered under his breath. I don’t know what I’d do without you.

You couldn’t help but smile at that, the sincerity in his voice catching you off guard. “Well, that's my job as your friend.” you replied, quietly. “I won’t go anywhere.”

He gave you a shy smile, more timid than usual. "I know..."

The moment passed quickly, but the quiet understanding between you both lingered as you walked into the theatre together, the world outside fading away. Orsen risked a glance at you, his gaze catching on the way the dim evening light outlined your sharp features. You looked so effortlessly composed, so handsome that it made his breath hitch for a moment. He felt a rush of warmth spread from his cheeks to the tips of his ears, his fingers brushing nervously against the ribbon under his chin as if it could steady him.

It didn’t matter that you were different. It didn’t matter that you came from different worlds. Right now, all that mattered was that you were both here, together, sharing this moment in time.

And for Orsen, that was enough.

── .✦

Orsen sat in his room, absentmindedly tracing patterns on the wooden desk, his mind still occupied with the discomfort that had settled over him the past few days. He hadn’t expected his body to feel like this, unfamiliar, heavy, and strange. The flow had come, just as his father and tutor had warned, but it didn’t make the experience any less confusing or jarring. He had kept to himself mostly, trying to adjust, trying to make sense of what it all meant.

A soft knock on the door broke his thoughts. He looked up quickly, his nerves suddenly tightening. His father, Lucan, stepped in, his posture rigid as always, his dark eyes scanning the room before landing on Orsen.

“Orsen,” Lucan began, his voice steady but tinged with an unfamiliar seriousness. "Wanted to talk about something, love."

Lucan stepped further into the room, his voice lowering, as if the matter was too delicate to say aloud in front of anyone else. “I and your mother think it’s time for you to stop... associating with (Y/N) for now.”

Orsen’s stomach twisted painfully. The words felt like a sharp blow to his chest, though he knew this was coming. His world, for the last few years, had been shared with (Y/N), the carefree days, the laughter, the moments when they were just two children playing in the garden or sneaking out to see a play. It was always natural, always easy, until now.

“Why?” Orsen’s voice cracked slightly, and he immediately regretted it, his cheeks burning as he stared down at the floor. “What did I do wrong? Wh-at did she do??”

Lucan sighed, a heavy sound that made Orsen feel smaller, as if he were a child again, needing to be controlled. "It’s not about you, Orsen. Your mother believes you should start focusing more on your responsibilities. You are no longer a child. Your a man and she...she's a woman. It’s time for you to stop playing games, stop seeking out... distractions."

Orsen felt his breath catch in his throat. Distractions. That’s how his parents saw (Y/N) now? His heart ached at the thought of never being able to run off and play with you again. It felt like the walls were closing in on him.

"You need to start preparing for your future," Lucan continued, not looking at Orsen directly, but at some point beyond him. “Your mother has plans for you, and she expects you to focus on your studies, your family name. No more distractions, Orsen. You’re growing into something much more than that."

The last words lingered in the air, and Orsen felt a sickening knot twist in his stomach. He wanted to argue, wanted to scream at the injustice of it all. Why should everything change now? But the words didn’t come. Instead, he simply nodded, his eyes brimming with the weight of it all.

Lucan turned to leave, but before he did, he paused at the door. “It’s for the best, son,” he said, his tone almost sympathetic. “I know it doesn’t feel like it now, but your mother’s decision is final.”

The door clicked shut behind him, and Orsen sat there, staring at the floor, his hands trembling. The world outside felt so far away now, like it was slipping through his fingers.

It was over. He couldn’t see (Y/N) anymore. He couldn’t run to her and find comfort in her presence. He couldn’t protect her or laugh with her. He was supposed to grow up. He was supposed to follow the path his family laid out for him, to grow into something else. To grow up for rather someone is more like it. To be a good man so that he can be a good husband...

But I’m not ready to let go, Orsen thought miserably. I can’t.

The evening had settled over the manor, but Orsen still hadn't left his room. He had feigned illness, citing exhaustion as the reason for his retreat, and, thankfully, his parents had bought it. His mother, as aloof as ever, didn’t press the matter too hard, but it was clear from the way she sent up his dinner that she wasn’t exactly pleased with him skipping meals. Nevertheless, they left him in solitude, and he barely touched the food. Just a few bites, enough to keep the appearance of complying with his parents' wishes.

You can't be with (Y/N) now...

The words circled in his mind like an endless loop, the cruel reminder of everything he’d just lost.

Society...

Family name...

And all that other bullshit...

Orsen couldn't suppress the bitter curses that slipped past his mental barriers, curses he'd only learned from you. Thanks to you, he had been exposed to the harsher truths of the world, the side that no one of his status was supposed to see, let alone understand. Without you, he would have remained ignorant, a sheltered boy in a world that seemed so far removed from the lives of people like you.

How could he just forget you? How could he ignore the way you made him feel so alive, so seen?

He wanted to lie to himself, to deny the truth, but it was becoming impossible. The feelings he had for you were not just those of a carefree childhood friendship. No, they had evolved into something far deeper, something he couldn’t bury beneath the expectations of his family and the rigid norms of society.

His mind swirled with the questions that had no answers. Had they told you? Did you know the news already? How would you have reacted?

Would you be heartbroken, too? Or would you simply move on, uncaring, as though he had never been a part of your life at all? After all, he was just the son of a lady of the manor, a wealthy, entitled boy. You, on the other hand, probably had your own circle, your own friends. Girls who shared your struggles, who truly understood your world in ways he never could.

The thought burned in his chest like a quiet, smoldering ache. Maybe there was even a boy among them, someone prettier, someone who fit into your life better than he ever could. Someone who could stand beside you without looking like a silly, awkward dreamer. The idea made his heart clench. He wanted to be everything you needed, but deep down, the fear whispered, what if you didn’t need him at all?

Orsen curled into himself, the loneliness settling over him like a suffocating weight. His heart ached with the thought of you, of how far apart he felt from you now. The girl who had been his closest friend, the one who had filled his life with laughter and mischief, now seemed like a distant memory, slipping through his fingers.

Would you even miss me? He couldn't stop the question from repeating itself.

But deep down, he knew the answer. You were strong, capable, too strong, too capable to be held back by someone like him. You had a life to live, a future that didn’t need him to make it complete. And he, a pampered boy who had always had everything handed to him, couldn’t keep up with that.

Still, his heart refused to listen to the logic of it all. It stubbornly clung to the hope that maybe, just maybe, there was a place for him in your life still.

But what if...

The thought was interrupted by a quiet sob he couldn’t suppress. His heart ached, and his tears fell unbidden, mixing with the confusion and sorrow that clouded his thoughts.

Just then, the soft patter of footsteps approached, and the door creaked open. Orsen barely registered the sound, too consumed by his own grief to notice at first. But when a small, tentative voice called out to him, it pierced through the fog of his sorrow.

“Orsen?” Rowan's voice was quiet, unsure.

Orsen didn't look up. He couldn't. Instead, he pulled his knees tighter to his chest, willing the tears to stop, though they kept coming. He didn’t want Rowan to see him like this. He was supposed to be the older brother, the one who protected him, the one who had all the answers. But now he felt like nothing more than a broken boy, helpless and alone.

Rowan, being much younger, didn't fully understand the weight of the situation, but he could sense the sadness in Orsen's hunched shoulders, in the way his older brother’s sobs shook his frame. Without hesitation, Rowan crossed the room and climbed onto the bed next to him, his small hands resting gently on Orsen’s arm.

"You’re not alone....You’ve still got me."

Orsen felt the warmth of Rowan’s hand, and it was enough to make him break down completely. The tears fell faster now, as if Rowan’s simple words had unlocked everything he had been holding in. He buried his face in his hands, trying to stifle the sobs, but it was useless. The pain was too much.

“I don’t know what to do, Rowan,” Orsen choked out between his sobs. “I... I don’t want to change. I don’t want to lose her. Why does everything have to be so... so different now?”

Rowan, though younger and not entirely understanding the complexities of the world they lived in, squeezed Orsen’s arm tighter. “Maybe it’s not forever,” he said quietly. “Maybe... maybe you can still be with (Y/N). You’re smart, Orsen. You’ll figure something out.”

Orsen let out a ragged breath, his body shaking as the tears slowly subsided. Rowan’s small voice, his unwavering support, gave him something to hold onto in that moment, something that felt like a lifeline.

“Thanks, Rowan,” Orsen whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "M-means a lot.."

Rowan smiled softly, his little hands patting Orsen’s arm as he snuggled closer. “You don’t have to. I’ll always be here, even when Mama and Papa tell you to stop playing with (Y/N). I'll always play with you!"

Orsen’s heart tightened. His little brother didn’t understand the full depth of what had just happened, but his words meant more than he could ever say. In this moment, Rowan was the one keeping him together, the one showing him that, even when everything seemed to fall apart, he wasn’t truly alone.

── .✦

He was perched at the balcony window, the cool breeze tousling his long, silky hair as he gazed out at the garden below. His fingers lightly gripped the edge of the windowsill as he watched you, working diligently on the grounds below.

You were cutting logs, a task far more physical than what Orsen was used to seeing you do. Your movements were strong, your muscles flexing with every swing of the axe, and it sent a strange flutter through his chest. His eyes followed the rhythm of your body, the way your arms tensed with the exertion. There was something undeniably powerful in the way you moved, a raw strength that both mesmerized and unsettled him.

Orsen swallowed hard, his heart skipping a beat as you wiped the sweat from your brow, revealing the determined glint in your eyes. His breath hitched in his throat as he couldn’t help but admire the way your body worked, every movement fluid and precise. The sight of you, the girl who had always been by his side, now growing into someone completely different, had his thoughts running wild.

Stop it, he told himself, gripping the windowsill a little tighter. This is wrong. She’s... His mind stumbled over the words, his heart desperately trying to calm the fluttering sensation that wouldn’t go away.

You didn’t seem to notice him at first, too focused on your task, but then, by some miracle, your eyes found his. For a moment, time seemed to stretch as your gaze locked onto his, and Orsen’s heart raced in his chest. There was something about the way you looked at him, a kind of unspoken acknowledgment as if you knew exactly what he was feeling without him saying a word.

He quickly forced himself to look away, his face flushing with heat, but not before giving a small, almost timid wave. His fingers, still gripping the windowsill, trembled slightly from the nervousness coursing through him.

You gave a quick wave back, then turned your attention back to the task at hand, but the simple exchange was enough to send a shiver of excitement through him. He leaned against the window frame, his chest tight with something he couldn’t quite name.

The quiet, pounding ache in his chest deepened. He was stuck, trapped behind this invisible barrier that kept him from stepping outside, from being close to you in the way he wanted. You, with your strength and duties, your hands working like they knew no other way of being. And him, trapped in this gilded cage, unable to touch you, talk to you.... to even get close.

His eyes followed your every movement, as if he could somehow close the gap between the two of you just by watching. The ache in his chest grew heavier, and the question hung in his mind like a dark cloud: Why am I feeling like this?

You didn’t even know, did you? Or maybe you did, but... what difference did it make? His hand tightened on the windowsill as he let out a quiet sigh. There was nothing he could do. Nothing he could say. Just... watch.

── .✦

The days passed slowly for Orsen after that encounter. Each morning, he would wake up with an uneasy knot in his stomach, knowing he couldn’t be near you. He could only watch you from his window, his heart aching with every glimpse of you working in the garden, your hands strong and graceful, yet out of his reach.

But then, one day, a small note arrived. It was discreet, slipped under the door to his room by Rowan, who seemed to have caught onto the secret in his own innocent way. Orsen unrolled the crumpled piece of paper, his heart pounding.

I see you watching me these days, Orsen. Are you going to keep staring, or are you finally going to talk to me? Don't be afraid...

Orsen stared at the words, a soft blush rising to his cheeks. You, you, had noticed. He carefully folded the note and tucked it into the pocket of his shirt before his parents could catch him with it. His heart raced, but there was a comfort in knowing you felt something too.

Over the next few weeks, the notes began to come more frequently. They were always passed through Rowan, always discreet, and always full of the teasing, playful energy that Orsen both craved and feared.

One evening, Orsen received another note. This one was a little longer than the others, the ink scrawled with hurried words.

I’m starting to think you’re too shy to talk to me in person, Orsen. It’s just a letter. Why don’t you send me one back? Are you really just going to end our friendship like this...? I am worried for you too...Please answer..

Orsen’s hands trembled slightly as he read the note. He had never written to anyone like this before. He had never had a reason to hide his words. But you, you made him feel things he couldn’t understand, things that burned and twisted inside him every time he thought about you. And now, you were asking for him to write.

The next afternoon, he couldn’t stand it anymore. Taking a deep breath, he took up his pen and began to write:

I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to talk to you, not like this. But I think about you. All the time. I can’t stop. But they said to...not to...I want to though. Every day...

It was simple, just a few words, but it felt like the world was contained in that tiny letter. He sealed it carefully, not wanting anyone to find it. Rowan, ever the accomplice, delivered it the next morning.

The day passed in anticipation, and soon, he received your reply.

So you're shy, huh? That’s alright, Orsen. But if you want to see me, if you want to talk to me... I’ll be in the garden tomorrow at noon. I’ll wait. They won't catch us. I promise.

Right... No one would know. It would just be you and him. Just like you promised.

That night, he barely slept, the thought of seeing you in the garden swirling in his mind. And as soon as the clock struck noon the next day, he snuck out of his room and slipped through the hallways of the manor, his heart thundering in his chest.

There, in the garden, you waited. The sun was high, and the breeze was soft. You were working again, your back turned to him as you cleared some weeds. His footsteps were quiet as he approached, but you heard them.

You turned around, your eyes meeting his. The playful glint in them was gone, replaced with something softer, something warmer.

“You came,” you said, smiling slightly. “I thought you might be too scared.”

Orsen’s face flushed, but he nodded, his heart racing in his chest. “I wasn’t sure… but I wanted to see you. I didn’t know how to say it.”

You stepped forward, closing the distance between you. “Well,” you said with a sly smile, “you’ve said it now.”

He swallowed hard, unsure of how to respond. But you didn’t give him time to think. You reached out and placed your hand on his arm, the touch sending a shock of warmth through him.

As he looked into your eyes, the teasing, playful energy that once defined their interactions was gone. Now, there was only a quiet understanding, a deep yearning that neither of them could ignore any longer.

Orsen’s breath caught in his throat. His body was still, heart racing, as you gently cupped his face, your thumb brushing the faint line of his jaw. His hands hovered at his sides, unsure what to do, but every part of him screamed to hold you.

"You’ve been so quiet, Orsen," you whispered, your voice softer than he’d ever heard it before. "What’s on your mind?"

The question hung in the air, but before Orsen could form a response, his gaze flickered to your lips. His heart skipped a beat, and without thinking, he leaned in...you did too. The world around them seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you, standing in the middle of the garden.

And then, as if drawn together by some invisible force, your lips met.

The kiss was hesitant at first, tender and shy like two people testing the waters of something new and forbidden. But it didn’t take long for the hesitance to melt away. Orsen's hands found their way to your collar, pulling you closer as if he could feel you slipping away with each passing second. Your hands gripped his slender waist holding him firmly in place as you lost yourself in the feeling of his soft plump lips.

The kiss deepened, and Orsen felt the weight of everything he had been holding back, the feelings, the longing, the fear of losing you, all come crashing down in that single moment. He wanted to say so much, but all he could do was hold onto you as if his life depended on it.

Finally, when they broke apart, Orsen was breathless, his forehead resting against yours. He opened his eyes to find you gazing down at him, your face flushed and your chest rising and falling in shallow breaths.

"I… I don’t know what to say," he murmured, his voice unsteady.

You smiled softly, running a finger across his jawline, as if reassuring him. "You don’t have to say anything."

But then, your expression shifted, and Orsen could see the uncertainty in your eyes. It was like a sudden weight had descended on you, something you couldn’t hold back any longer.

You pulled away slightly, looking away from him for the first time in their brief encounter.

"I have to tell you something," you said, your voice tinged with sadness. "I’ve been trying to avoid saying it, but you deserve to know."

Orsen’s heart clenched at the seriousness in your tone. "What is it? You’re scaring me."

You took a deep breath, your gaze returning to his. "I’m being...drafted into the army. I leave in two weeks for training."

Orsen's face drained of color. The words didn't fully sink in at first, but as they did, a chill ran through him. "What do you mean? You’re going away?"

"I have no choice," you said quietly, looking down at the ground. "I have to go. You know I always...wanted that and my mother wants it too. I passed the test. And will have to leave for...I don't know yet. Could be an...year."

The weight of her words hit him like a physical blow. He reached out instinctively, taking your hands in his, as if holding onto you could somehow change everything.

"But we just-" Orsen’s voice cracked. "We just… we just had a kiss. And now you’re leaving?"

You nodded, wiping the tear slipping down his cheek. "I never wanted this. I never wanted to hurt you. But I have no choice. This is what’s expected of me."

Orsen’s heart ached, but as he looked into your eyes, he knew there was nothing he could do to change it. The world was too big, too complicated, and he was just a rich boy who wasn’t allowed to have what he wanted.

He stepped back, releasing your hands, and turned his back to you. He couldn’t let you see the way his eyes were welling with tears.

He swallowed hard, struggling to keep his voice steady. "I didn’t even get to tell you, h-ow much I care about you. And now yo-u’re leaving."

You stepped closer again, gently touching his shoulder, your voice soft. "I care about you too, Orsen. But there’s nothing I can do. I’ll be back. I promise. It's not a big deal. Please...don't cry. I want to see you smile...before I leave...."

"But how long? What if we never-"

"We will," you whispered firmly. "When I come back, I’ll find you. We’ll figure this out, together."

Orsen turned to face you then, a smile weakly tugging at the corner of his lips despite the heaviness in his chest. "I’ll be waiting for you."

"I am doing this...for us. I---I have felt this way about you for very long...and I now know you did too. So... when I return," you said, your voice firm with conviction, "I’ll ask for your hand."

Orsen’s heart stopped for a second. The words you spoke were like a breath of fresh air in a world that had felt suffocating. But then, a cold, sinking feeling crept into his chest. He swallowed hard, his thoughts racing.

"I…" He shook his head, his voice faltering. "My mother… she’ll never allow it. I can’t-"

"Don’t worry about her," you cut him off gently. "When I return, we’ll figure it out. I’ll fight for us. I am not a coward. I won’t let anything stand in the way of what we have."

But Orsen’s mind was already racing, and despite the warmth your words brought, doubt gnawed at him. His mother, Isolde Elaris, a businesswoman, would never allow him to be with someone like you. She would never approve. And no matter how much he might want to be with you, he couldn’t ignore the reality of his world.

Still, as you gazed at him with such earnestness, he found himself nodding, almost against his will.

"I’ll be waiting for you, just like I said, promise. Be safe...for me...please (Y/N)...." Orsen whispered, his voice barely audible, but filled with all the hope he had left.

With that you pulled him into a warm embrace that seemed to melt all his worries, his hands gripping you like a lifeline.

1923

One year later...

You had returned.

A year of training had shaped you into someone different, not just physically, but in ways you couldn’t have imagined. At 17, you were a Junior Sergeant, a rank earned through sheer grit. You hadn’t just survived the grueling regimen; you had thrived in it. Yet, despite all that, none of it felt quite as important as the task ahead.

Convincing your mother had been no easy feat. It took more strength than any of your drills to get her to agree to accompany you today. But, in the end, she relented. She didn’t speak much as you both traveled, but the tension in the air was thick with her reservations.

You heard the standard protests from your parents.

"What if we get kicked out?!"

"There is no match between us and them."

"You’re saying she will marry her son only for him to live in the servant quarters of the manor?!"

"I just want to ask for his hand, not bring him here!" you snapped, your voice steady with the weight of your resolve. "Just an engagement, nothing more, until I’ve found my footing. My own house, where we can all live, where we’ll be happy."

Your words were filled with confidence that stemmed from the one thing that motivated you, the love you had for Orsen. It wasn’t about status, not about titles, or what others thought. It was about him. It was about making him happy, seeing him smile, and one day—maybe soon, building a family with him.

Your mother’s protests quieted as she looked at you, still skeptical but, perhaps, beginning to understand the depth of your determination.

"I will fight for him," you said softly, almost to yourself. "I’ll do whatever it takes."

Orsen’s breath hitched in his chest, his sweaty palm almost crushing his younger brother Rowan's. Both of them stood just outside the drawing room, where you and your mother were speaking with his parents. The air felt thick, heavy with the weight of what you had just said, and Orsen’s anxiety surged with each passing second of silence. He could barely comprehend it, you had said it. You had confessed your love, asking for his hand.

The silence was broken by a furious, sharp voice that made Orsen's heart drop into his stomach.

“ABSOLUTELY NOT! Who the fuck do you think you are?”

Isolde shot up from her seat, her eyes blazing with fury as she pointed an accusatory finger in your direction.

“YOU THINK YOU CAN COME HERE AND ASK FOR MY SON’S HAND, THE ONE WHOSE SINGLE SHOE COSTS MORE THAN YOUR ENTIRE QUARTERS?!” Her voice rang with disgust, the insult heavy in the air.

Orsen felt his knees threaten to give way. He had known his mother would react this way, hell, he had feared it. But hearing her say those words about you, about what you meant to him... It hurt more than he could have imagined.

"Love... love is not something that you weigh, Ms. Elaris." Your mother gripped your arm tightly as a warning, her fingers pressing into your skin as she tried to pull you away, her voice full of urgency. She muttered apologies under her breath, but you remained rooted to the spot, staring straight ahead. Isolde’s presence loomed closer, her fury palpable in the thick tension of the room.

"Oh really?" Isolde sneered, stepping forward with venom in her voice. "Well, your pathetic and nasty feelings towards my son WON'T KEEP HIM FED! IT WILL ONLY RUIN EVERYTHING ASSOCIATED WITH HIM, WHICH IS MY FUCKING NAME THAT I BUILT!"

Her words sliced through the air like a blade, but you stood your ground, not backing down, your voice steady despite the knot of anger rising in your throat. "You think I would have come here for something as trivial as commitment just to let him starve? We both love each other-"

"DON'T FUCKING SAY HIS NAME, YOU-" Isolde's face contorted with rage. Before you could even react, she struck you across the face, the sharp sting of her palm sending shockwaves through your head.

The sound of the smack echoed in the room, and it was all Orsen needed to hear. He couldn’t take it anymore.

"NO! MAMA! Don't hurt her!" His voice broke through the tension, desperate and raw. He dashed into the room, his eyes wide with panic and pain, his feet carrying him faster than his mind could catch up. The sight of you, standing there with a reddened cheek and your heart in turmoil, pushed him past his breaking point.

"Don’t you dare!" he cried out, trying to rush toward you, as his father stopped him.

Isolde turned to her husband, rage still boiling in her voice. "YOU LET THEM PLAY WHEN I TOLD YOU NOT TO!" she screamed. "See?! This is what it fucking results in!"

Orsen ignored her, his focus entirely on you, on the hurt she had caused, and the way it shattered him to see you suffer. He reached for you, but his father blocked his path, forcefully holding him back.

"NO! STOP!" Orsen sobbed, the sight of you being dragged away tearing him apart. His chest tightened, his heart breaking into a million pieces. All he could do was watch as his dreams of being with you, of having a future together, crumbled before him.

"At least think what your son wants! I promise to keep him happy even if it means working myself to death, just give me a chance Ms. Isolde! I'll be forever loyal to-"

Isolde’s voice rang out again, cruel and final. "I WON’T GIVE YOU MY SON IN A MILLION YEARS!" she spat. "Now go home. Pack your bags. GET FUCKING LOST FROM MY PROPERTY!"

The words struck like daggers, and Orsen could only stand there, his body wracked with sobs. The pain, the injustice, the helplessness, it all became too much. You were being dragged away, your love for him still so clear, and yet, everything was falling apart.

And as he watched you being forced from the manor, Orsen’s world seemed to collapse in on itself. He could feel every part of him breaking, every dream he had of a future with you slipping through his fingers like sand.....

Please be a nightmare...please be a nightmare.

Isolde stormed back into the manor, her fury still crackling in the air. "Lucan! Get him inside his room, and I don’t want to hear a single word about that pathetic woman! Neither the sobbing! You hear me?" She didn’t wait for an answer. Without another glance at her sons, she turned on her heel, the sound of her heels clicking sharply against the floor as she made her way toward her study, her anger still seething.

Lucan stood there for a moment, staring at the door his wife had slammed shut, the weight of his own helplessness pulling at his chest. He sighed heavily, then turned to Orsen, whose body trembled with the weight of everything that had just unfolded.

"Orsen..." Lucan’s voice was softer now, but laced with concern. He approached his son, his hand resting on his trembling shoulder. "My dear... calm yourself," he murmured, trying to comfort him as best he could. But it was clear that his own frustrations and regrets were too much for him to contain. "You really thought your mama would let this be? Why did you let yourself fall for her?" His tone was more accusatory than he realized, but it was clear that his anger wasn’t directed at his son, it was just a manifestation of his own disappointment.

Rowan, who had been silently watching the exchange, finally stepped forward. His small hands reached out for his brother, and with the innocence only a child could have, he whispered through his tears, "Orsen, please don’t be sad. I... I don’t like seeing you cry."

Lucan finally helped his son to his feet, though Orsen could barely stand on his own. The weight of his heartbreak was too much to bear, and he leaned heavily on his father, the pain in his chest threatening to crush him with every breath. Rowan followed close behind, his small hands trembling as they touched Orsen’s arm, trying to support him.

"I don’t... I can’t live without her," Orsen whispered, his voice barely audible, a tremble in every word. "Please... I’ll die... I’ll kill myself..." His words hung in the air, heavy with despair. And then, in a moment of overwhelming emotion, Orsen’s world faded to black, his body collapsing in his father’s arms as everything around him went silent.

── .✦

After you left, Orsen felt as though half of his soul had been ripped away, leaving him hollow and incomplete. Lucan had tried to convey this to his wife countless times, but Isolde was deaf to his pleas. She dismissed his concerns about their son with cold indifference, refusing to acknowledge the truth of what Orsen had become, a lovelorn boy consumed by grief. He withdrew from the world entirely, locking himself away in his room. Socializing, already a challenge for him, became impossible. And so, he painted. Over and over again, he painted you.

Each canvas bore your face, your smile, your essence. Every brushstroke was a desperate attempt to capture what he had lost. The paintings multiplied, filling his room with hauntingly beautiful reminders of a love he could no longer hold.

“This is getting out of hand!” Isolde’s shrill voice echoed through the manor as she stormed into the parlor. “I swear to God, if I see one more portrait of that bastard in my house-”

“STOP!” Lucan’s voice thundered, cutting through her tirade. “For God’s sake, Isolde, just stop! Can’t you see what you’ve done? My son, our son, has lost himself because of you! If only... if only you’d handled this with an ounce of discretion, with empathy! They were young and in love for God’s sake! She was young, and she did it, she came here, to us, and asked for his hand. What was her crime? Loving him? That’s not a sin!”

“Oh, it most certainly is!” Isolde snapped, her face flushed with fury. “She did commit a sin because how dare she even think she’s at par with us? How dare she believe she’s fit to be my daughter-in-law? She’s a nobody! And you-” she pointed an accusatory finger at Lucan, her voice trembling with rage, “you need to stop wallowing in pity with him and do your job as his father. Go up there and fix your son instead of standing here arguing with me, your wife! You failed to raise him properly! I want the best for him too! Do you think I’m his enemy?”

Lucan’s jaw tightened, his fists clenched at his sides, but before he could respond, Isolde pressed on, her tone sharp and resolute. “If you won’t act, then I will. I’ll find him a suitor. A proper one. Because clearly, you’re too busy sulking to see what’s best for him. There are plenty of well-established women, daughters of my partners--women who will treat him like the prince he is! Not like some charity case meant to be dragged down by a girl who doesn’t even belong in the same world as us.”

Lucan’s eyes burned with unshed tears, his voice breaking as he whispered, “And what do you think that will do to him, Isolde? You think parading someone else in front of him will make him forget her? You’ll break what little is left of him.”

But Isolde had already turned her back, dismissing his words with a wave of her hand as she walked toward the grand staircase. “You’ll see, Lucan. One day, he’ll thank me for saving him from her.”

However, Isolde’s plans always seemed to crumble before they even began. Every suitor she brought forward found her son either too meek, too detached, or, worse yet, eerily silent. He was almost ghost-like, his quietness mistaken for muteness by many. But it wasn’t silence, it was absence. Every fiber of Orsen’s being was consumed by you. His thin frame seemed weighed down by the memories he refused to let go of.

Because every part of his being was consumed by thoughts of you, his eyes replaying the memories, his hands yearning to be held by yours, his ears straining to hear your voice, his nose craving the faint trace of your scent, and his mind entirely consumed by you. His mind, utterly devoted to you, left no space for the present. How could he be anything but a shell of himself?

The embarrassment came soon enough. The rumors spread like wildfire after one particular incident---a disaster in Isolde’s eyes. Forced to interact with a suitor in private, Orsen, in his dazed and lovesick state, spoke only of you. Your name slipped from his lips like a prayer, every word dripping with longing and devotion. The suitor, bewildered and offended, left without a word. And that was it, Isolde’s perfect plan shattered yet again.

But the world outside was less forgiving.

A boy in love?

The son of Isolde Elaris in love?

And with a mere servant, no less? Tsk, tsk. So unruly...

No wonder he looks so wretched. Betrayed by a woman beneath him, perhaps?

Heard she’s in the army now. But poor as dirt, that explains why Isolde refused.

The whispers, the snide remarks, and the pitying glances reached Isolde’s ears, stoking her fury. But Orsen? He couldn’t care less about the rumors. Let them talk. Let them mock. None of it mattered to him.

His world had shrunk to the confines of his room, where his paintbrush brought you back to life in hues of longing and heartbreak. Your laughter echoed in the silent strokes of his art. Your touch lingered in every corner of his mind. Your memory was his solace and his torment.

He needed nothing else, just the faint traces of you that lingered in his heart. For him, they were enough.

"You destroyed your life for HER?! She isn’t coming back here, and neither am I ever going to accept her, so imprint that in your mind and fix yourself! Otherwise, we will be forced to move to another province."

SLAM!

The door rattled violently as Isolde stormed off, leaving the air thick with tension. All she ever did was talk, command, dictate, and talk some more. Orsen leaned his head back against the wall, letting out a dry, rueful chuckle. Her words barely scratched at the armor of his despair anymore.

"Does your mother always think she’s the empress of everything? Or does she just save that energy for me?"

He could still picture you folding your arms, feigning indignation while your eyes sparkled with mischief. Back then, you’d leaned closer, dropping your voice conspiratorially. "No offense, but I’m half-expecting her to declare a new tax just for looking at her wrong."

That teasing jab had made him laugh so hard he’d forgotten, for a moment, the weight of his world. He could still remember how your fingers used to drift into his hair without a thought, toying with the soft strands as if it were the most natural thing in the world. It always made his cheeks flush, though he never stopped you—he loved it, cherished every touch, every moment your attention lingered on him.

Now, his hands gripped the scissors, the metal glinting faintly under the dim light. His movements were sharp, almost desperate, as he cut through the alluring gold locks, yet there was an underlying tenderness to it, hesitant, like he was severing a connection to you. Gently, because you loved his hair. Aggressively, because he didn’t want anyone else to see it anymore. No suitors, no flattering remarks from his parents. No one deserved to notice him the way you had.

Even now, the memory of you was so vivid it felt like you were in the room with him. Almost. But not enough to fill the void you’d left behind. Nothing ever could.

Meanwhile, you, after being kicked out and shamed by Lady Elaris—were drowning in an unbearable mix of shame and guilt, especially in front of your parents, who were now homeless because of you and your foolish fantasy of being with her son. What were you thinking? Had you been so blind in your naive, reckless love that you lost sight of reality? Your parents should have been your first priority. Instead, you had risked their stability and comfort over a foolish dream.

Your heart broke the day your father had to sell his cherished marriage jewelry, pieces he had once treasured, because your single month’s salary, combined with your mother’s meager savings, wasn’t enough to afford even a modest one-room apartment. It was a moment that crushed you, made you see the depth of your mistakes, and yet, it also became the turning point.

At that moment, you made a promise. You vowed to repay them tenfold, no, a thousandfold, everything they had sacrificed because of you. That vow became your life’s focus, your unrelenting drive. There was no more room for silly infatuations, no place for childish fantasies. Only purpose.

1931

Over the years, countless letters were written by Orsen to you. Rowan, ever loyal, carried each one to the post office, just as he had done when they were boys. But you never wrote back. Not once. Each unanswered letter chipped away at Orsen's hope, leaving him to wrestle with the silence. In his heart, he could only fathom two reasons for your absence: either you had truly forgotten him, abandoned him, played with his heart, or you had simply given up on the dream.

Perhaps you kept the love a secret but he didn't. He kept it as an oath.

He thought it would be a love for the ages. But now, as the days turned into years, he realized he was the only one writing on…pages.

But why? No. No, you shouldn’t have. You promised to fight for him, didn’t you? You were the woman, you were supposed to fight for your love. He had fought for you, hadn’t he? So why didn’t you?

There were moments when resentment clawed at his heart, moments when he hated you for your silence. But his love always overcame it. A quiet voice within reminded him of the guilt and heartbreak he had seen in your eyes that last time, the moment you stood at the threshold of his home. No, he would tell himself, you didn’t betray me, did you?

And yet, the doubt lingered, cold and cruel. Was he really so...forgettable to you?

"BROTHER ORSEN! Orsen!" Rowan's voice trembled as he rushed inside his brother’s room, panic rising in his chest as he saw Orsen hunched over, lost in the sea of his own thoughts. He approached him gently, reaching out to steady him, but it was as if Orsen was made of glass, fragile and on the edge of shattering.

"I-... I did you hear the news...?" Rowan's voice quivered, unsure if he truly wanted to be the one to break this.

A slow, hesitant shake of Orsen's head was all Rowan received—what he had expected, but still, it hurt more than words could express.

"T-the... war is upon us... and..." Rowan’s voice faltered, breaking on the edge of that awful, cold truth. He didn’t need to say more. Orsen’s face went blank, his body slumping further, as if the weight of the world had just pressed him into the bed.

"War..." Orsen’s voice was barely a whisper. It wasn’t the war that had brought him to this point. It wasn’t the world outside that was destroying him. It was the war within, against the memories, the love, the haunting silence.

"Y-yes, brother. War, soldiers are being deployed to the western border... but don’t you worry, she’ll return, she’ll be fine-"

"But she won’t return to me..." Orsen’s words were choked, and Rowan felt his heart fracture as his brother's emerald eyes filled with unshed tears.

"No matter how many wars go by, Rowan..." Orsen’s voice quivered, his body shaking with the intensity of his pain, the weight of years of silence and waiting pressing down on him. "She won’t fight the war... for us. The one war that I was ready to die for."

Rowan’s heart ached, and he reached for Orsen immediately, his hand coming to rest gently over his brother’s lips as if to shield him from speaking the words that were tearing him apart. "Why do you always speak ill of yourself? It hurts me, Orsen. As much as I... support you and love you you need to stop destroying yourself over her."

Orsen’s hands trembled, and his voice broke as he whispered, almost desperately, "Rowan, my heart doesn’t stop! There’s always this voice... this voice that tells me she still feels something for me, that I still live in her heart, the same way mine beats for her. But it’s all I have left. The hope. The hope that she’ll come back... and maybe... maybe it will be enough."

Rowan's throat tightened, but he couldn’t speak, not with the agony in his brother’s voice. His own heart broke for him, but he couldn’t let Orsen sink deeper into the suffocating grief.

"Even if she returns..." Rowan’s voice faltered as he feared what the consequences would be. "Mother will-"

But Orsen cut him off, his voice low, almost too quiet to hear, "It won’t matter, Rowan. I’ve already lost her...I've lost...everything."

One year later...

After years of bloodshed and sacrifice, the town whispers of your return. At 25, you walk back into the place you once called home, no longer the wide-eyed girl who had left at 17, but a woman hardened by the brutal realities of war. Your uniform, now adorned with a sergeant's insignia, tells the story of your rise through the ranks, your resolve steeled by every battle fought and every friend lost. The air feels different, heavier, almost suffocating as you step through the town’s familiar streets, but your heart remains unyielding, barricaded from the past. Orsen’s letters are still tucked away, unopened, each one a reminder of a love you’ve forced yourself to forget. You’ve accepted it. You were never meant to be, and no amount of hope could change that now. The weight of those letters no longer tugs at you, not when you’ve fought and survived so much more.

Dear Orsen,

I know you’ve been waiting. I know you’ve sent me countless letters, filled with hope that I would somehow return to you, to the life we once dreamed of. But Orsen, I can’t. I’ve read every word you wrote, and yet I find myself unable to respond in the way you so desperately long for.

I wish things had been different. I wish I could turn back the clock and be the girl who ran away with you in her heart, the girl who believed love could conquer everything. But that girl no longer exists.

You were my first love, Orsen, and you will always hold a piece of my heart. But that piece is buried deep now, and I cannot let it resurface. You deserve more than the shadows of someone who cannot return your love. You deserve someone who can give you all the things I cannot.

Please, move on. I’ve had to. And though it breaks me to say this, I need you to as well. There are things we can’t undo, and I’ve learned that some battles are meant to be lost.

I wish you nothing but happiness, Orsen. Please find it, for both of us.

Yours,

(Y/N)

Orsen read the letter over and over again, the words blurring as his tears fell onto the paper. He could feel the weight of her words, the finality in them, but it didn’t matter. She was back. She had sent a response. That was all that mattered. He could still feel the flicker of hope inside him, despite the pain.

"See, Rowan?" Orsen's voice trembled, filled with a raw, desperate conviction. "She does care... she did come back! And she sent a response! After all these years, after everything..." His hands shook as he held the letter, his eyes wide with disbelief, as if the letter were some miraculous token of proof that his love had not been in vain.

Rowan stood still, watching his brother, his heart aching with the quiet sorrow that had always lived within Orsen. He had been there for all of it, the hopeless days, the constant painting, the letters, the belief that (Y/N) would return. But now, even with the letter in hand, he knew nothing would ever truly change for Orsen. The boy who loved her so deeply, so painfully, would never let go.

"Orsen-"

"I told you, Rowan!" Orsen interrupted, his eyes gleaming with an intensity that sent a chill down Rowan’s spine. He didn't even hear his brother’s voice, his focus solely on the canvas beneath him. He dashed to his desk, where he'd been working for hours, and pulled out the latest painting of her, his masterpiece.

He held the canvas in his arms like it was the most precious thing in the world. His hands, once trembling with uncertainty, now steadied as he placed a soft kiss onto the painting of her.

"I knew you would," he whispered into the stillness of the room, the words soft, almost a prayer. "I knew you would, (Y/N)... I knew you’d come back to me."

His lips brushed the painted figure as though it were real, as though he were holding her in his arms once more. He collapsed beside it, curling up against the canvas as though it were her embrace. The painting of (Y/N) became his only solace, his only love.

And though the letter told him to move on, to accept the impossible, Orsen couldn't. He wouldn't.

He would live in his world of painted memories, of moments stolen from time. If that was all he could have, then that was enough. His heart belonged to her, now and always.

Rowan sighed, a heavy, sorrowful breath, and sat beside his brother, not knowing how to save him from the pain that would never fade.

── .✦

The years had been kinder to you in some ways. You had finally earned the respect you'd dreamed of, built a stable life, and found a steady income. Your parents, once worried, once ashamed, were proud now. They had a bungalow, a car, and all the comforts that came with your hard work. Adrian was a good man, his steady smile and warm presence had become a source of quiet comfort. Your parents approved of him, and in public, he fit the role of what they had always envisioned for you.

You had met Adrian at one of the official functions after the war, an event meant to honor veterans and those who had served. He had approached you politely, a charming young man from a good family, well-educated, and well-spoken. It was easy to fall into a comfortable conversation with him. He was kind, and considerate, and seemed genuinely interested in your experiences, nothing too probing, nothing too personal, and a touch of flirty which you found attracted to. The connection had been easy, and effortless. Over time, he had become more of a presence in your life, someone to lean on, someone to rely on when the weight of the world felt too heavy.

But in the quiet moments, when you caught him smiling or when his gentle presence filled the room, you couldn't help but wonder what it would have been like if Orsen were here instead of him.

Had he listened to you? Had he chosen a different path? You had told him to move on, to find happiness elsewhere. But as you thought of him, still alone, still stubbornly clinging to something that had long since slipped away, you felt an overwhelming ache. You wondered if he was doing well if he had found peace, or if he was still trapped in the same loop of memories, the same quiet obsession that you had once shared.

The whispers that reached your ears spoke of his isolation. They called him a "spinster" in the most cruel terms, among their circle blaming him for wasting his life over a dream, for not letting go, and for refusing to welcome suitors. The town had forgotten the love he had once held for you, reduced it to mockery and judgment. And it stung more than you cared to admit. It wasn’t just the cruel words, they blamed him, not you. But you still felt the guilt gnaw at you. If only you could have done something differently. If only you hadn’t pushed him away if only you had stayed.

You wished things could have been different, so different. Sometimes, you would drive by the road that led to the Elaris estate, the place where it had all started, where it had all fallen apart. You grimaced each time, your mind filled with the memories of Isolde’s cold arrogance, her cruel insults hurled at your mother, the disdain that had torn everything apart. You would never forget the way she looked down on your family. Never forget the way her words had stung.

And yet, despite it all, the quiet moments still haunted you. Adrian was everything you had ever been told to want. He was good, stable, and kind. But whenever you saw that smile, whenever you felt his hand on yours, the image of Orsen would slip into your mind, and for a fleeting moment, you wondered, what if?

"Ready for the date, love?" you asked, a playful smile on your lips as you slid into the driver's seat of your sleek Packard coupe. Adrian hopped in beside you, his excitement palpable as he fastened his seatbelt. The polished chrome gleamed under the fading sunlight, reflecting your success.

"Ready as ever," Adrian grinned, leaning in for a quick peck before you revved the engine.

As you pulled out onto the road, Adrian’s eyes sparkled with energy. "Oh my God, baby! Look! An exhibition! We should totally go there!"

"But what about our reservation?"

"We can eat somewhere else," he said, his voice bubbling with excitement. "I'm in the mood to go there now! And it’s going to be fun!"

"As you say, doll," you laughed, making a sharp turn, and Adrian’s hand instinctively gripped your arm as the car glided smoothly along the streets.

The gallery was quiet when you both entered, the sound of hushed conversations echoing in the background. But as soon as you stepped through the door, you both stopped in your tracks.

Every single wall was covered in paintings. And what made your heart skip a beat, what made the air feel heavy, was that every single painting was of you. Each canvas captured a moment, an expression, an angle of you. The portraits were hauntingly familiar, your face, your eyes, your presence, all staring back at you in ways that felt too intimate, too familiar.

Adrian stood beside you, his mouth agape as his eyes darted between the paintings. "What the hell is this?" His voice trembled with confusion, but his gaze never left the artwork.

You didn’t respond, your heart pounding in your chest. The words caught in your throat as the reality of the situation sank in. How had this happened? Why had someone done this?

You felt the walls closing in, the weight of every portrait suffocating you. The paintings weren’t just of you, they were a testament to someone who had been watching, remembering, and never letting go. They were not just of your face, but in parts too but all those parts...made a story , the story you were all too familiar with.

The garden...

The swing...of you pushing a boy...you knew too well.

your eyes...

your lips nuzzling in golden hair...

you working in the garden but the painter drew it as they...were in some balcony...

Adrian looked at you, searching your face for an explanation. "Do you know who did this?"

You shook your head, your voice barely a whisper.

"Is this… is this really me?" you whispered, feeling a tremor in your voice.

Adrian stood beside you, studying the painting. He gave you a gentle nudge. “Of course, it’s you. Look at that, love. It’s beautiful. Who could capture you like that? It's like they’ve seen the real you.”

Your mind was however not registering his words as you turned your eyes to the next painting. Another portrait of you. And another.

The entire gallery was filled with paintings of you. Each one more personal than the last.

Your breath hitched. The familiar, almost painful pull of longing twisted in your chest. The artist, who could it be? Why was this happening? You didn't want to think it, but you knew deep down. You knew this was Orsen’s doing.

Adrian sensed your shift in mood, his brow furrowing in concern. “What’s going on? This... this doesn’t seem like you to be so quiet.”

You turned to him, the weight of the paintings and your tangled emotions making your heart ache. "It’s… it’s him. Orsen."

Adrian’s face softened in understanding, his eyes scanning the gallery around you. "I thought you'd told me you had moved on from him. That you had buried that part of your life."

“I did,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “I thought I had. But I didn’t expect this… to see him like this. To see him still... holding onto me."

Adrian studied you, his expression a mixture of concern and something softer, more understanding. He took your hand, gently guiding you towards the painting of you in the center of the room. “(Y/N), listen to me. This… this is what he’s been doing all this time. This is his heart, laid out on canvas. But you, you, need to follow yours now.”

Your heart raced as you turned to look at him. “I don’t know if I can,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “His mother… she ruined everything. I ruined everything.”

Adrian’s hand squeezed yours gently, and he looked you in the eyes, the sincerity in his expression unwavering. “But you’re not her, (Y/N). Don’t let her shadow stand in the way of what’s real. You feel it, don’t you? You feel that pull. The ache in your heart. You’ve never really let him go. He’s still there, inside you. Maybe it’s time to go to him. Maybe it’s time to follow your heart, before it’s too late. Be the woman you should be. For him."

You swallowed, the weight of his words sinking deep into your chest. Adrian’s eyes softened as he added, "Go to him, (Y/N). You owe it to yourself."

For a moment, you stood there, torn between the past and the future. But deep down, you knew what you had to do. Adrian was right. You had buried the love you shared with Orsen for too long, hidden behind walls of fear and shame. You couldn’t pretend anymore. The paintings were his way of reaching out to you, of showing you that he never stopped loving you, even when you were too proud or too afraid to admit it to yourself.

With a shaky breath, you turned to Adrian and smiled softly. “Thank you. I don’t know how to repay you.”

He smiled back, brushing a lock of hair from your face. “No need for that, love. Just be happy.”

After a comforting and final farewell with Adrian and dropping him you drove towards the Elaris estate. Your heart thudded in your chest, each beat louder than the last. You knew what was waiting for you. You knew that, despite all the years of pain and regret, Orsen was still out there, still holding onto you, waiting for you.

You didn’t know how you would face him, but you knew one thing for sure, you had to try.

When you arrived at the grand estate, it felt like stepping into the past. The familiar sight of the towering gates, the ivy-covered walls, all of it reminded you of everything you had left behind. Your hands trembled on the steering wheel, but you didn’t hesitate. You got out of the car and walked up to the grand doors, your heart heavy with the fear of what you might find.

Orsen’s mother answered the door, her face cold and dismissive as ever. “You’ve come back for more, have you? He’s upstairs, but don’t think this will end well.”

You didn’t respond. You didn’t need to. She could fuck herself.

Taking the stairs two at a time, you arrived at his door. You hesitated for just a moment before knocking.

"Orsen?" you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and hope. “Orsen, it’s me.”

For a long moment, there was silence. But then, the door creaked open, and there he stood, your Orsen. His eyes widened in shock as he saw you, standing there on his doorstep after all these years.

“You came,” he whispered, his voice breaking.

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. “I came, Orsen....I did..."

The years between you didn’t matter anymore. The world outside could’ve been falling apart, but in that moment, all that mattered was him. And you. Together, at last.

Orsen’s voice trembled as he spoke those words, his hands shaking as he reached for you, his face painted with disbelief. "I never stopped loving you. I never gave up on us."

You stood frozen for a moment, your heart hammering in your chest, and then, without another thought, you stepped forward. The distance that had kept you apart for so long seemed to vanish as he collapsed into your arms.

Orsen's breath hitched as you wrapped your arms tightly around you, You could feel his tears against your neck, the way his body trembled as he let out a sob, quiet at first, but then growing louder, more desperate.

"I thought you were lost to me forever," he whispered between gasps, his voice cracking with emotion. "I tho-ught--I thought you would never come back."

You ran your fingers through his hair, pressing your cheek against the top of his head as he cried. His sobs were broken, painful, as if years of longing and heartache were finally being released. It hurt to see him like this, but it also made you realize just how much you had missed him, how deeply he had always felt for you.

"I’m here," you whispered softly, your voice barely audible, but the words felt like a promise. "I’m here, Orsen. I never wanted to leave you. I was a coward--a fucking coward...a bastard. That's what I am."

Orsen pulled back just slightly to look at you, his tear-streaked face full of vulnerability. He reached up to touch your face, your jawline, his fingertips brushing gently over your cheeks as though he couldn't quite believe you were really there.

"You... you never stopped loving me?" His voice was raw, a mix of hope and doubt.

"I never did, never" you said, your own tears starting to slip free. "I just... I was afraid. Of everything."

He shook his head, a soft smile breaking through the tears, though it was a broken one. "Yo-u are not a coward....you are my everything...I-I feel as if I can breathe ag-ain (Y/N)...I love you..."

"Oh Orsen..." You pulled him to your arms again as you both now sat on the carpeted floor. " I love you too. Always. I am so sorry.."

You hugged him tighter, your body pressed against his as he continued to sob in your arms, his tears soaking into your clothes, but you didn’t care. You held him, the warmth of his embrace grounding you, making you realize that all the pain, all the time spent apart, didn’t matter anymore. You were here now, together.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself cry, the tears falling freely as the weight of everything you had been carrying finally lifted. His arms were around you, and he was holding you so tightly, as though he would never let go again.

And in that moment, it felt like the world had stopped turning. All that mattered was the two of you, your past, your fears, your love, all of it was there, unfolding in his arms. Orsen had always been your home, and now, finally, you were both back where you belonged.

It didn’t matter that the world outside remained uncertain, that Isolde still cast her shadow over Orsen’s name, or that the whispers of the past lingered like unwanted ghosts. When you finally stood together with Orsen, hand in hand, the rest of the world fell away. You had spent too long apart, too long in the agony of wondering “what if,” but now, there were no more questions. No more waiting.

As Orsen stood beside you, the man who had loved you for all these years, he seemed almost too perfect to be real. His emerald eyes, the same ones that had once searched for you in the distance, now held you in a steady, comforting gaze.

“I thought I’d lost you,” he whispered to you as you exchanged vows, his voice thick with emotion. “I thought I was never going to feel your arms around me again, never hear you say my name.”

“You never lost me, Orsen,” you responded, your voice steady, but your heart thundering in your chest. "I was always here..."

And then, as if nothing else mattered, you sealed your promises to each other with a kiss that was as soft as the years you had spent apart, as fierce as the love you now shared.

The years of separation melted away in that one, perfect moment, and for the first time in a long while, the weight of your past was lighter. You had come back to each other, and that was all that truly mattered.

After the wedding, life settled into a quiet rhythm. You and Orsen moved into the bungalow. It wasn’t grand compared to where he came from, but it was nonetheless a heaven for him. Every room held a piece of you both, and slowly, you began to build a new life.

Orsen often found himself in the garden, his hands in the dirt, tending to the flowers that now bloomed as brightly as his heart. You would watch him from the kitchen window, leaning against the frame, a smile tugging at your lips as you admired the way he made everything seem so effortless. The way he painted in the garden. His laugh, when he caught sight of you watching, was soft and full of warmth.

At night, you would share simple dinners, just the two of you, with candles flickering in the dim light. Orsen would tell you stories of his of the times when he had been filled with hope and dreams, waiting for you to come back to him. You shared your own tales, of the war, of the triumphs and the losses, the people you met, and the battles you fought. And yes of course, talking about the memories of your childhood...the most cherished ones.

But the best moments, the ones you cherished the most, were the quiet ones. The evenings when Orsen would in your lap, his arm around your neck as he clung to you, as you both listened to the wind rustling through the trees, and the sound of crickets filling the air.

You never spoke of Isolde much. She remained a distant, bitter part of Orsen’s past. And while she still tried to cause trouble, trying to remind Orsen of what he “could have had,” you both knew that she no longer had a place in your life. She had lost him, and that was all that mattered. You had heard how she had suffered losses in her business and for Orsen and you, it seems like she was facing the consequences of her ego and stubbornness.

Sometimes, you would take walks through the town, just the two of you, your fingers intertwined, the sun setting in the distance. The people who had once whispered about your union now smiled, and you would catch the glint of admiration in their eyes. You had proven that love, even in the face of all odds, could survive.

One evening, as you both sat on the porch, the stars beginning to twinkle above, Orsen turned to you, his eyes soft and filled with a quiet happiness.

“Do you ever think about what could’ve been?” he asked, his voice just above a whisper.

You smiled and shook your head. “No. I think about now. I think about you and me. This. That’s enough for me.”

And Orsen, ever the poet, kissed you gently, his lips lingering on yours in a quiet promise that this love, this life, was all that mattered now.

The past was gone. The future was still unwritten, but you were both finally, truly together, and that was more than you had ever dared to dream.

In the warmth of each other’s arms, you knew, finally, that no matter what the world might throw your way, you had everything you needed. You had each other.

You did it. You fought for him...no, you both did, in fact you felt ashamed sometimes that it was Orsen who really did. He remained true to his word, his love.

Now none of the bitter past mattered. What mattered was that you two were now bound.

And that was enough.

── .✦

The sun had just begun to set, casting a warm golden glow over the bungalow, and the soft hum of evening filled the air. The days had stretched into years, and now, the soft patter of little feet echoed through the house.

The twins, Isla and Blair, were running around the garden, laughing as they chased each other between the rows of flowers that Orsen had lovingly tended. Isla’s bright curls bounced with each step, her fiery energy matching her mother’s, while Blair, a little more reserved, hid behind a bush before springing out with a playful shout. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched them, so full of life, so full of joy.

Orsen stood beside you, a proud smile on his face as he adjusted the collar of your shirt, though he couldn’t keep his eyes off the children for long.

"Think they'll ever slow down?" he asked, his voice warm, though laced with a hint of exhaustion.

You chuckled softly, resting your head on his shoulder. “Not as long as they have that energy. They're just like you at their age, honey."

"I was never that much trouble," Orsen said, feigning innocence, though his smile betrayed him.

You raised an eyebrow. "Oh? You want me to remind you about the treehouse incident?”

He laughed leaning back on your chest, the sound rich and full. "Alright, alright, maybe I was a bit much. But they’ve got your fire in them, that’s for sure. I see it every day. It’s like they’re part of both of us."

"You can say that again. Isla's already giving Rowan a run for his money with her mischief."

You then nuzzled the side of his soft and milky neck, feeling the warmth and peppered light kisses as he giggled. "And definitely got your streak of being a brat."

"Oh, shut up you..." His voice softened, looking up at you with a dreamy gaze. He cupped your jaw gently, his thumb brushing the line of your cheek as his eyes traced the lines of your face. "You know...this was my dream, and I would sacrifice everything a million times for this... for you."

You shook your head, smiling tenderly as you brought his soft hand to your lips. "You sacrificed enough. It's my time to do that." You kissed his forehead, feeling the heat of his skin and the quiet ache of love that swelled in your chest. He swore he melted right then and there, his heart swelling with emotion.

"I WANNA KISSHY TOO!" Isla’s voice broke the moment as she wobbled over, her little face scrunched with exaggerated impatience. You chuckled, easily scooping up your three-year-old daughter, her giggles filling the air as she flung her arms around your neck.

"Do you now?" You teased, smiling at her. "Then kisshies you get. And you too, little mister." With one swift motion, you scooped up Blair in your other arm, planting kisses all over both their little faces. Their giggles filled the space around you, a sweet symphony of innocence and love.

Orsen laughed softly, his eyes twinkling as he watched the scene unfold before him. The sight of you, his family, so full of life and laughter, was a dream he had never dared to speak aloud, one he was living every single day. He sighed in contentment, his heart swelling at the sight. It was everything he had hoped for and more.

All his art had come to life, and it was more beautiful than he could ever have imagined. Every brushstroke, every moment of uncertainty, had led to this, a home filled with love, with laughter, with a family bound by unspoken understanding, and, most importantly, by the love that had always been there.

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