#and i thought i couldn’t be more in love with her

[ohhowjooniewept]

friendship group jungkook x y/n

fluff, angst, filthy smut

10k<

——

having a big friendship group was something that most people couldn’t understand. the dynamics between each and every person were important, like a well oiled machine that churned out a mixture of jokes and joy.

you had been friends with namjoon and yoongi for years, meeting taehyung, yejin and jin in your first year of university. yoongi introduced hoseok, who in turn introduced jimin, who of course, introduced jungkook.

you were incredibly close to them all, with the exception of the bambi eyed boy, who for some reason, you just couldn’t crack. it wasn’t that you didn’t get along, on the contrary - you were the most alike and he was always extremely kind towards you. it had been years and years since you first met, and you were able to have small conversations but there was an air of tension that followed you both that neither of you understood. well, you pretended not to anyway.

it was a secret to no one, except jungkook, that you were head over heels in love with him. yoongi would groan every time he’d see the starry look in your eyes once the conversation shifted towards the younger man, with yejin and jimin giggling like their lives depended on it.

“you should just get married and leave the rest of us to finally recover from your rambles.” he grumbled, once, laid out on your sofa with biscuit crumbs on his chest.

you rolled your eyes at him, frowning. “shut up yoongi, that would require him to actually like me back.”

he groaned so loudly that you found yourself grabbing the nearest pillow and plowing it into his face. “god, you’re both such idiots.” he muttered with a shake of his head.

———

jungkook had an aura around him that most described as electrifying. he knew he could walk into any room and make a friend, or have eyes stay on him for the duration of the night - he knew he had presence and it was something he enjoyed.

one thing he didn’t know, however, was how to tell the girl he had been in love with for multiple years, his feelings. add the fact that she was also in his friendship group, he knew he was utterly hopeless.

years of knowing and seeing one another weekly, but he still struggled to hold a 10 minute conversation between you both. between stuttering words and clenched jaws - he could speak to everyone else in the room as though it was a god given talent, but you? for you, he was hopeless.

every girlfriend, every fling and every message in his inbox was a way to rid himself of you, but you plagued his thoughts and every inch of his desires.

———

“right, why are you saying this to me again?” jin questioned as he cooked.

the entire group were at namjoon’s house to celebrate his new promotion, with bottles of wine sitting in the fridge and laughter heartily coming from the living room.

“jin, please.” jungkook groaned, leaning on the counter beside him. “yoongi won’t listen to me anymore. says i talk too much.

jin looked straight at him. “you do.”

“what? this is the first time i’m opening up about this to you.”

jin looked over again, more pointed. “first time this week.”

jungkook groaned once more, overgrown pout on his face as he rubbed over his eyes.

“listen.” jin began. “you can walk, or in your case run, in circles all you want. why can’t you just be honest with her, tell her how you feel?”

“i can’t even have a conversation with her without feeling like i’m going to pass out.”

yejin walked into the kitchen, hair messy and lipstick smudged from the wine she had been drinking. her eyes fell on the pout on jungkook’s face before giggling.

“let me guess, yoongi won’t let you confess to him anymore, now you’re terrorising jin?”

“bingo.” the older man grinned.

jungkook frowned. “is this just a running gag, now?”

“hard to feel sorry for you when you’re the reason for your own problems, kook.” yejin slid next to jin, moaning over the scent of multiple little dishes. “i mean, have you tried asking her out? even platonically? have you guys ever purposefully been alone with each other?”

jungkook’s frown deepened, he hated being friends with intellectuals. stupid yejin, stupid namjoon, jin and yoongi. the rest weren’t to be trusted with this knowledge; they’d blab to you in a heartbeat. little did you know, you had taken them for yourself. they were yours informants, sworn to secrecy.

“well, i guess not but…i don’t think she’d be entirely comfortable with just me.” he confessed. “she gets shy and quiet when i speak to her. she doesn’t laugh or joke the same as when she’s with all of us.”

the two looked over at the tall boy, eyes brows furrowed. they then turned to look at one another, both shaking their head. “god, why did you curse us with idiots for friends.” yejin grumbled, allowing jin to feed her ahead of everyone.

“you guys are mean.” jungkook grumbled. “at least yoongi pretends to be nice at first.”

with a roll of jin’s eyes, he handed him a few plates before shoo’ing him away, yejin following with her hands full. in the living room, you were stood by the tv, glass in hand, giggling away as you watched yoongi and taehyung battle it out on mario cart. the former was grunting and yelling, uncharacteristically, whilst the latter grinned wide as he won another round.

“you’re getting old.” tae smirked.

yoongi gave him a glare, before standing up to help yejin put her plates down. “you don’t get hit enough for my liking.”

the wine was beginning to make your brain hazy, and you felt slightly tipsy. it was no secret that you were the lightweight of the group, which was why you were on a strict one glass policy whenever you were with your group.

the living room table was set, adorned with finger food and a bowl of larger dishes, everyone tucking in. jungkook took a seat on the coach on the left, leaving a space beside him before his eyes flickered up to you, hovering over the table behind hobi, waiting to be given a plate. his eyes stayed trained to your face, a reddish flush evident on your cheeks that made his heart beat painfully. fuck, you were so pretty.

“okay. this weekend, what are we doing?” yejin clapped, as you began filling your plate. “you know i love pigging out with you guys, but we should celebrate joonie properly. you’ve really been waiting for this for so long.”

the dimpled boy grinned, blushing slightly. “i’m happy to do whatever, this is enough for me.”

“boring.” jimin groaned, shaking his head. “we need to go out.”

your eyes brushed over the seating arrangement, noticing the only free spot was between yejin and jungkook, the latter already staring up at you with too large eyes and parted lips. you wanted to scream, the little girl in you clawing her way through your body at the thought of sitting next to your crush.

with a tinge in your cheeks, you made your way over, wobbling slightly as you began to sit down. jungkook’s reflexes were fast, one hand on your thigh and the other taking control of your wine, letting you sit down comfortably.

his touch didn’t register with your brain immediately, but once you sat down and looked, noticing his hand remaining on your thigh whilst he looked up to join in on the conversation with the others, your brain began to short circuit. he was touching you. his hand. on your thigh. touching.

you had never noticed how big his hands were until now, your eyes flickering over every inch and knuckle, core clenching and mouth watering. you wanted him in a way that was neither healthy nor acceptable, but right now, who could blame you?

jungkook wasn’t fairing any better. his heart was beating so loudly, he swore he could feel it in his throat. he hadn’t even thought before touching you, it felt like second nature and once his hand found home on your thigh, he simply couldn’t bring himself to pull away.

you both sat, tense and head swirling, his hand firmly where it belonged.

“what do you think y/n, you down?” yejin murmured next to her, bumping her shoulder.

“down..” you cleared your throat, fixing your position. “down for what, sorry?”

her eyes flickered down, before meeting your gaze with an all knowing smirk. “the new club downtown on saturday.”

“isn’t it kinda expensive? i hear the drinks are pricey.” you cringed.

jimin scoffed. “with a face like yours, you won’t be spending a penny, don’t you worry.”

you exchanged giggles, the group going back to exchanging conversations as you all drank. the wine was getting to you, so much so, you hardly noticed jungkook’s hand flexing on your thigh, gripping tighter and higher.

——

saturday had finally come and you went all out. everyone was dressed nicely, excited to go christen a new club, the electricity palpable and running through you. you knew you looked good tonight, you had gone the extra mile - sleek hair and dress both tight and perhaps too short. your heels made your legs look longer than usual and your makeup sultry - you had one single goal tonight. jungkook.

you were sick of this cat and mouse game. you liked him. maybe a lot more than like, but regardless, you were going to get a few shots in you, tell him how you feel whilst you felt confident, and then get black out drunk so you wouldn’t remember it tomorrow. solid plan.

unfortunately, said plan meant nothing once your eyes fell on him.

broad shoulders and piercings catching the light of the club, drink in hand as his t shirt stretched across his chest. every plan, thought and idea fluttered away from your head, leaving a hollow echo chamber in which all you could hear was a repeat of his name.

he turned to look around, noticing you walking towards the group with hugs and greetings. he blinked once or twice, before turning around and openly groaning. fuck.

“yeah, yeah. pack it up lover boy.” yoongi scoffed, before you walked over to give him a hug too.

jungkook spun again, meeting your gaze as you shyly reached over to hug him as per usual. he never let you get far, always closing the distance himself and wrapping his arms around you as he held you tightly.

“hm. you smell good.” he murmured next to your ear, leaving a shiver down your spine.

“is that it?” you cheekily asked, eyebrow raised.

he smirked wide and broad. “you look good. better than good.”

you grinned up at him before letting him go. he, however, let his arm rest loosely around your waist as you turned to the group, gushing with yejin about how good she looked. you tried to ignore how badly your heart was thumping, he was never this bold - sure he could be touchy but that was jungkook, he practically resided on namjoon’s lap. this felt different, but you couldn’t bare yourself to get your hopes up.

his eyes flickered downwards, observing you and wracking over your body. you looked better than ever, and it both excited and angered him. he knew he’d have to have his wits about him tonight, if a man even approached you, he was sure he’d combust.

“okay, drinks!” taehyung exclaimed over the music, clapping his hands.

you and yejin took a seat at the table whilst the boys filtered down to the bar, the loss of jungkook’s arm both palpable and healing to your racing brain.

your eyes travelled to across the club, where your boys stood, jungkook ignoring evident glances and women sauntering over to him. you couldn’t help the grimace.

“you’re too pretty to frown.” yejin cooed, moving your chin so you were facing her. “especially over a boy.”

you blushed. “wish he wasn’t so handsome, can’t believe everyone sees what i see.”

“ah,” she grinned wickedly. “funny. you’ve had guys trailing you and watching you from the second you walked in, and believe me, he’s not happy.”

your eyes widened at her comment, eyes flickering to jungkook again, who’s gaze was already on you. you broke the contact, embarrassed before turning to her properly.

“enough jungkook talk, what’s on the agenda tonight? what is yeji doing?” you asked, hands in hers.

“i’m not leaving empty handed.” she wiggled her eyebrows, causing a fit of laughter that remained as the boys came back, looking at you both inquisitively.

yoongi reached over to hand you your drink, to which you thanked him gently, sipping slowly.

you felt the seat beside you dip, focused on your conversation with the boy and girl beside you, until you felt a warm hand press against your bare thigh. yejin and yoongi continued, unaware, as your head turned to face the tatted boy beside you, who drank his drink as though this was the most casual thing he had ever done. the thump in his chest argued otherwise.

you were sure your cheeks were flaming red, and your thigh began to tremble beneath his touch. you wanted him to go higher whilst also let go, you were sure your brain would wither away soon with how hazy you felt.

“like your drink?” he asked, suddenly getting closer to you so you could hear him over the music.

“mm, fruity.” you nodded, eyes never leaving his.

he grinned. “hm.” his hand flexed on your thigh. “have i told you how good you look, tonight?”

“only once.” you guys were flirting. the little girl inside your body was screaming so loudly.

he tutted, shaking his head as his grip tightened. “my bad, baby. you look stunning.” he whispered intimately into your ear. “love this little dress, new hm? would have remembered if you’d worn it before.”

all you could do is nod, as he pulled away slightly from your ear, your faces much too close to be deemed appropriate. just a little closer, he thought, eyes flickering down to your lips. just a little curve to your head and he’d take care of your tiny pout, he was sure.

before you could continue, however. “y/nnie, come on.” jimin shouted, from across the booth as he got up, forcing you to yank away from jungkook with wide eyes and parted lips. your eyes looked up to the blonde haired boy, a smirk on his face. “time to dance.”

“jimin i’m not tipsy enough.” you groaned.

“take this shot.” namjoon pushed the drink over to you, yejin giggling beside you.

you picked it up, hands still shaky, and tipped it back, grimacing deeply whilst everyone laughed and whooped around you. you shook your head quickly, as to rid yourself of the taste, before he grabbed your arm, pulling you up from your seat and guiding you down. you grabbed yejin on the way, who waved excitedly at the rest of the boys, shouting something about actually having fun.

it wasn’t long until you guys were dancing away, giggling loudly and twirling with one another. jimin was the life of your group, whilst yejin was the soul - if you ever wanted to have fun, it had to involve the pair who only ever seeked out joy.

the alcohol was already rushing to your head, leaving you a tipsy mess. being the worlds biggest lightweight never helped when you wanted to get drunk because you knew in two drinks, you were completely finished, but it was always nice to get a buzz whilst you were out.

hobi and jin soon joined, with the former’s arms around you as you danced and sang together, fits of giggles being shared.

“i don’t think i’m going to survive tomorrow, my heads already so gone.” you shouted over at him, music thumping.

“yeah, me neither - your little boyfriend is about to kill me with his stare.” he giggled louder, throwing his head back.

your eyebrows furrowed before turning your head to the side, catching jungkook’s heavy gaze.

eyebrows furrowed and a dark expression on his face, you could see the clench of his jaw and it made your core whine. he was so pretty despite being evidently bothered. the thought, the idea, that he would be this way over hobi dancing with you sent a million electricity volts through your body, your eyes never leaving his.

“we spoil him too much, now we can’t even dance with you without him planning our murder.”

you broke eye contact, looking at hobi with an excited thrill. “i want him so bad.” you groaned quietly, head falling to his shoulder.

“believe me. you could have him.”

——

the night was going strong, and you had slowed down with the drinks and paced yourself appropriately to match your friends. taehyung wanted to smoke outside, so you accompanied him.

you and jungkook had been playing a fine line all night, dancing around the tension, eye contact and fleeting touches but never anything more. it was driving you insane, you knew that maybe he wanted you in some way but if it wasn’t the way you wanted, then you couldn’t have him. you wouldn’t be able to move on and it wasn’t fair.

you both stood outside, taehyung taking out a cigarette whilst the wind nipped at your too warm skin, offering some calm to the night.

“fuck. forgot my lighter, i’ll be two seconds alright?” he groaned with a tip of his head making you nod, resting your head against the wall of the smoking shelter.

you watched him retreat, closing your eyes for a few moments before you heard a shuffling of feet behind you. your eyebrows furrowed, thinking nothing of it until a large hand gripped your hip, twirling you around to face them.

your eyes widened and your jaw dropped. why was he here? how could he be here? touching you so casually and without thought; hand bruising your hip with every passing second as he approached you with nothing but clear disrespect.

“missed me?” jaehyun, your ex, grinned down at you, lowering his head to meet your height.

your ex of two years, who had terrorised you to an inch of your life stood before you, hands on your body as though it was his every right. your relationship with him had been turbulent to say the least.

it had started once you decided you couldn’t see jungkook kissing another girl at a random party, you felt sick and you’d had enough, you were finally moving on from the schoolgirl crush you had on him. you met jaehyun and he was seemingly perfect at ridding you of jungkook’s lasting touch on your heart, until he suddenly wasn’t.

he’d get angry whenever you went out with your friends, despite knowing them and understanding the years long dynamic you all shared. the mere mention of namjoon, hoseok and jimin were enough to drive him into a rage that left you shaking all night, only for him to appear the next morning with flowers and empty promises that it would never happen again.

you’d once mentioned jungkook in a passing, harmless comment and had to nurse your face for the next two weeks as payment. he was violent regarding any man, but it was the bright eyed boy that set him off the most.

it only escalated, but by that point, you felt entirely trapped. it wasn’t until yejin had come over after months of silence on your part, and broke down at the sight of you. you’d never forget the way she wailed whilst examining the bruises on your arms and chest, holding you like a baby before packing your bags and taking you from your shared apartment with him.

you don’t remember what happened after that, it was traumatic and it had taken a year of therapy to even consider unpacking it properly. you remembered being sat with the boys, yejin holding you tight whilst they all promised to keep you safe. you’d spend a night at each of their homes in rotation for months and months, at the fear of night terrors and something worse.

the nights you’d stay with jungkook were the calmest, the scent of him imbedded deep into his home enough to lull you to sleep as he snored in the living room. your friends had supported you to an inch of your life, built up your confidence and protected you. you were no longer the meek girl jaehyun had forced you to be, you stood straight and you spoke clearly - but the sight of him; the feel of him, broke you out of it immediately.

“get off of me.” you shakily whispered, hand grabbing the hand on your hip and pushing it away with all your might, forcing yourself to step away. “you don’t get to touch me.”

his eyes darkened, the patronising grin falling from his face immediately. “you know, i thought i taught you better than that. made sure not to let you talk back, remember?”

his words made you flinch, clearly referring to the times he would plow a fist into you if you ever spoke up even remotely. you began inching backwards, throat bobbing and hands shaking.

“and that dress? so short, it’s like you’re begging for my attention. two years later and still acting like a slut, y/n?” his face contorted, as though even looking at you made him angry. “used to be such a good girl. used to fucking listen.”

“don’t speak to me. you’re..you’re not allowed to come near me.” you wheezed out as your hands shook and your stomach twisted, the horrible feeling of anxiety and fear beginning to take over you. yejin had helped you file a restraining order. he wasn’t allowed to do this to you.

“yeah? and who’s going to fucking stop me.” he growled, hand grabbing your arm tightly making you welp whilst his other pulled you forward to his chest. “fucking bitch. i’ll take you home, hm? teach you a lesson, teach you what you should have remembered.”

you couldn’t breathe. couldn’t think. eyes closing and body shaking. his hand began gripping your face tightly, spouting abuse at you as your brain completely slipped away, shutting yourself down as trauma gripped the edges like a vice.

suddenly, you felt his touch completely leave you, forcing you to open them up again to find jaehyun on the floor, jungkook pounding his fists into his face. you could see taehyung shouting something, namjoon pulling you away and hobi running back inside where the others remained, no doubt to bring them to you.

you couldn’t think, your brain disassociating as your body trembled, prints of jaehyun’s hands all over your body. were you crying? tears were streaming down your face and you weren’t even aware, trembling as namjoon took you to a quiet corner, worried beyond belief.

taehyung had rushed back to their table to get a lighter, when namjoon, hobi and himself agreed to step out too, needing a smoke and fresh air. within moments of being outside, his eyes had widened at the sight of your abusive ex attacking you. he’d never get used to the look of fear in your face that felt so constant years ago, but seeing it back was enough to make him see red.

he wasn’t thinking, grabbing the man and plowing his fists into his face, watching him fall back. he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to, only doing so once both yoongi and jimin had managed to get him off, watching as jaehyun scurried away as fast as he could, despite bleeding heavily from his face.

turning around, seeing you sat with your eyes unmoving and tears streaming, he wanted to chase the fucker and do it again. his baby, his girl - how could he do this to you? how could he look at you and not see anything other than stars and moon?

“y/nnie, can you hear me?” he cooed as yejin sobbed beside you, holding you tightly. the boys were all a nervous wreck, yoongi shaking angrily and the others trying to regain your attention.

after a few moments, your eyes began to focus. you met jungkook’s gaze first, your gaze flickering over him in a momentary lapse of confusion. “he’s gone, y/n. jungkook took care of it.” taehyung sniffled, crouched beside you.

a moment of silence was shared between you, the sounds of both yejin and tae filtering the air as the others ran their hands through their hair nervously.

“promise?” you asked, voice breaking making the tatted boy almost whine in sadness. “promise you, he won’t bother you again.”

you simply nodded. you hadn’t noticed how hard you were crying, with tears ruining your perfectly applied makeup and your chest heaving in what could only be fear. “i’m sorry joonie, was supposed to be your night.” you choked out.

the taller boy tutted over at you, pressing a kiss to your head. “don’t be silly, y/nnie.” he shook his head. “jungkook, why don’t you take her home? stay with her, yeah? think she’ll feel the best with you there.”

you hardly registered what was happening, feeling jungkook’s hands taking hold of yours as he helped you up. everyone took turns holding you for a second or two, ensuring personally that you were okay. yejin pressed kisses to your cheek through her own tears, promising you that you were safe and that nothing else would happen before crying further into jin’s chest. jungkook watched, almost helplessly as he waited for the uber to arrive, yoongi patting him on the back. it wasn’t long until he received the notification on his phone.

he looked at you now, as you sniffled and walked back over to him, his arms wrapping around you protectively as you all bid your goodbyes. you slid into the uber first, his arms cradling you as you shuffled into his shoulder, breathing in the same familiar scent that would soothe you.

after a while of silence, your eyebrows furrowed, taking in your surroundings. “this isn’t the way to my house.”

he looked down at you, your little hand on his. he pondered before holding it up to his mouth, pressing a little kiss to your fingers. “i know baby. taking you to mine.”

your heart was thumping again, watching him as he caressed your hands, kissing each fingertip so gently you wondered if he was kissing them at all. an act so intimate you wondered what it meant.

it wasn’t long until you arrived, mourning the loss of warmth jungkook’s body provided as he pulled you out gently, taking you inside.

you’d been here a million times before but you never tired of how warm it felt, how much it resembled each bit of him. you pulled off your heels, your height dropping significantly before shuffling to the bathroom, intent on taking your makeup off immediately.

the joys of having two skincare obsessed women in the group meant yejin and yourself kept these boys stocked, considering sleepovers were a norm. jungkook let you take your time, no words exchanged as he grabbed you a t shirt from his wardrobe, knowing how much you liked sleeping in them.

“kookie, can i shower?” you asked, quietly as you peeked your head out the bathroom.

“course you can, i got you the rose body wash that you like the other day too.” he grinned over at you, hands roaming his hair. he handed over the oversized tee you loved so much, heart skipping a beat as you gave him a soft smile. “you’re the best.” you muttered back, hearing a little chuckle from him.

you watched as he rummaged through the kitchen cabinets before closing the door, your eyes screwed shut for a moment. so much had happened tonight, from feeling utterly helpless one second to so safe and warm in jungkook’s presence.

you showered relatively quickly, wanting no more than to sink into the plush mattress of his bed. “you hungry?” he asked once you came out, having showered himself in his other bathroom, dressed in a similar t shirt and plaid bottoms. he looked so cute.

“no, i’m okay.” he looked over with a small double take, drinking you in, soft skin and barely hidden legs. god, you drove him insane.

he nodded. “okay, wanna head to bed? it’s been a long night for you.” you shuffled in your spot before nodding.

he’d usually sleep on his couch whenever you were round, considering it was quite large and comfortable - of course, he didn’t want to intrude either. he had too much respect for you to ever think about imposing.

“will you..will you stay with me? tonight?” you whispered quietly, looking down as you asked.

he didn’t reply, simply began walking over to you and gently taking your hands in his, littering your smaller fingers with kisses like he did in the uber. your breath hitched as you met his gaze, watching as he nodded before leading you over to his bedroom, hand clasped over yours.

you let yourself be pulled by him, watching as he rounded the bed, knowing you preferred the side closest to the window, before getting in; watching you do the same. you both snuggled into the warmth of his covers, a groan leaving your lips.

he turned to look at you, as you did the same. he couldn’t handle how cute you looked, fresh faced and cuddled into his pillow. he wanted to protect you forever, have you sheltered from anything that didn’t wish even a semblance of joy.

“i’m sorry you got hurt, kookie.” you whispered, the little pout he loved so much forming. “i had no idea he was there and i just froze..i don’t know.”

he cooed at you, inching closer before slowly pulling you in by your waist so the space between you had disappeared. your hands moved to his chest without thinking, the urge coming naturally.

“don’t apologise, y/n. should have killed him for how he was speaking to you, i’m so sorry he did that.” his eyes shut tightly for a second, as though the memory pained him. “he’ll get what’s coming to him, i’ll make sure of it.”

you looked away, eyes falling to his neck and the rise and fall of his chest. “how do you feel?” he asked.

his hands moved to cup your face. you were both inching closer and closer without even realising it. “scared, honestly. i’ve been doing so good and now he’s reappeared.” you all but whimpered. “just wanna forget.”

“yeah?” he whispered, lifting your chin again to look at him, his forehead gently pressing against yours. “want me to help you forget, pretty girl?”

“please.” you nodded slowly, your eyes flickering to his lips whilst he did the same, the two of you dancing around the tension but tonight was enough.

he looked between your lips and eyes once more, before brushing his nose against yours. you tilted upwards before you felt a faint brush of his lips.

he pulled away, only slightly, looking at the way your eyes fluttered close, all resolve fluttering away from him before he properly pressed his lips to yours again.

kissing jungkook felt like coming home. consisting of passion and years of yearning, feeling like it had finally come to an end. all compiled into this single moment.

you pulled him closer, mouths interlocking as you shared a sweet embrace, his arms wrapping around your entire body before you began pulling away. the kiss was only brief, but its impact left you reeling.

“fuck.” he whispered. your eyes remained shut for a moment longer, opening them up to find a look of hope pulling at his fingers. “i’m going to kiss you again, okay y/n? but before i do that, we need to talk.”

you nodded, eyes focused on his lips before meeting his gaze. “okay. you go first.”

he nervously laughed, sitting up slightly and giving him a moment to get his bearings. he opened his mouth a few times, before closing it, unsure of where to start. “sorry, just hard you know? telling the girl you’re in love with that..you’re in love with her.” he rambled, scratching the back of his neck.

you could have sworn that the earth stopped spinning. you looked up at him, sitting up a little too fast, causing him to stop his rambled muttering before raising his eyebrows.

“what did you just say?” you all but whispered, eyes wide.

his mouth was gaping now, confusion littered on his face as though to question what had he actually said. once it dawned on him, his eyes matched the size of yours.

“oh…i mean i guess i said it. i..i get it if you don’t feel the same, i don’t want you to feel like you have to return the same feelings, you know?” he began again, this time much faster, the two of you completely sat up in bed. “but like can you blame me? loved you second i met you, y’know? always wanted to tell you but just get so shy around you, and you’re so pretty makes my brain shut down..”

whatever you had done in a past life, god bless. you were sure you would thank every god and every goddess for this very moment, your hands shaking as you grabbed his face, yanking it towards you and pressing your lips to his.

jungkook’s breath faltered for a second before realising what was happening. he wrapped his hands over your hips, careful not to touch the bruised skin your ex had caused, pulling you onto his lap immediately.

this kiss was unlike the other. though it shared the same passion and tension, this felt like a promise and declaration of love - a certainty that had waited to be confirmed for what felt like eons.

your mouths moved in unison, your fingers gripping into his hair as he brought you closer. he groaned into your mouth, your tongues moving together whilst you both pushed and pulled, yearning for more whilst every emotion ran through you. the feel of his piercing against your mouth felt cool; an odd feeling at first touch but quickly becoming something your brain felt addicted to.

he pulled away slowly for breath, eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenching as he looked directly at you, nudging his nose with yours. “is that your way of telling me you like me?”

“i love you, you idiot.” you whispered back at him, the both of you resorting to pecks. “loved you for so long, can’t believe you haven’t told me until day.” he grinned at this, nudging your nose once more.

“yeah, you didn’t either.”

you rolled your eyes, playing with his hair from behind. “does this mean we can kiss all the time?” you asked, pecking him whilst excitedly bouncing in his lap.

he groaned loudly, hands flying to grab your waist carefully as you smothered his faces in excited kisses. “yeah, won’t ever keep my hands off of you again.”

jungkook, although elated, was fighting the demons that were currently erupting through his chest. you, in no more than his shirt and your underwear, bouncing in his lap, conveniently over his crotch where he was already fighting his growing hard on.

“fuck, y/n.” he groaned again, holding you down a little firmer, unaware that the action was now directly pushing your own core directly to his crotch. you let out a little noise, half moan half whimper; eyes connecting.

neither of you dared to move. the last thing he wanted to do was make you feel uncomfortable, especially after the night you had which is shy he began to pull you up, to rest you on your side of the bed again.

only, you placed your hands on his shoulders, pressing your core against his bulge firmly before rolling your hips experimentally. you couldn’t help the moan that left you, a noise leaving his lips that rivalled it.

“still…still wanna forget kookie, you’ll do that for me?” you asked, unable to stop your hips from moving in circles, not when it felt so good.

he nodded, as though in a trance, guiding your hips as he shuddered against you. “don’t want you to feel like i’m taking advantage, baby, you’ve had such a long night.” he whispered, though your actions never faltered.

sweet, sweet boy. you couldn’t believe this was happening, the man of your dreams, both your heart and brain no longer at odds but instead connected finally in matrimony. “wanted you for so long.” you breathed out with a shake of your head.

this was beyond anything he could imagine. with direct confirmation from you, he captured your lips once more, hands planted firmly on your waist as he dragged you up and down his clothed cock. you shared moans, quiet and unsure at first before you found yourself matching his movement, the two of you closer than ever in a way you had Both only dreamt of.

“fuck. we have to stop, or i’ll cum.” jungkook whined as he pulled away from your lips, arms entirely wrapping around your body as if to stop you, closing his eyes tightly. “and i plan to impress you, so..”

you panted, with both a slight nod and slight giggle before whimpering at the loss of pleasure. this only lasted a few more seconds before suddenly, you found yourself flipped, a squeal leaving you. jungkook hovered over you, peeling his shirt from his body before swooping down to catch your lips again.

you couldn’t help your wandering hands, fingers twitching over his naked chest. you had seen him shirtless before, notably when you had all gone to the beach, but the memory was seared into the crevice of your mind. feeling his skin so intimately was completely different.

your lips moved in unison before he broke away, whining at his own action as he pulled his t-shirt you wore. he looked at you for approval, to which you nodded before he pulled it up over your head.

jungkook groaned, loudly. the sight of your bare breasts were enough for him to go clinically insane, but the way you were looking up at him, eyes big and lips bruised. you would be the end of him.

“fuck, look at you. so pretty.” he reached for one of your breasts, listening to the quickening of your breath as he wrapped his mouth around one. biting, teasing and licking, he proceeded to leave honeyed marks on your skin, whilst your moans and squeaks egged him on.

he moved to your other, making sure to physically leave his claim over them with hickeys adorning your body. “need you, kook.” you whined, impatient.

the side of his mouth flickered up at the sound of your impatience, and as much as he wanted to ruin you immediately, he had waited too long for this to just end up rushing.

“need to prep you first, hm? gonna be patient for me?” he cooed as his hands continued cupping your breasts. you nodded, eagerly, hands locking into his hair as he gave them one last kiss before easing down your body, trailing kisses from your stomach to your hips. he kissed over the bruised skin jaehyun had caused, making your heart clench for a moment.

the boy you loved, with wild eyes and bruised lips, searing love into every crevice of skin he could reach, ridding you of the pain that disgusting man had placed on you. he was freeing you with every touch, with every promise hidden behind passionate touches, you felt so safe.

he parted your legs, eyes flickering up to meet yours. he grabbed the hem of your underwear, sliding it down so that he was met with your core, a noise of pure defeat leaving him at the sight of you. wet and clenching for him, yearning for his touch just as much as he yearned to taste you. “all for me, baby?”

you nodded, as he parted your legs further despite how suddenly shy you felt. he dipped his head, planting a chaste kiss to your clit, watching as your body jolted. with a smirk, he dove in.

he couldn’t help the noises that were leaving him as he sucked and licked, intoxicated by your taste. “taste so good, y/n.” he’d moan in between your legs. “could die here.” he’d add. “addicted to you.” he’d all but growl.

you couldn’t help the moans, you’d never felt like this before. sure you’d been eaten out before, but never by a man who acted like this was his last starving meal. jungkook hoisted your legs wider, as your hips lifted, your hands tight against his scalp.

“need to stretch you, fuck. need to make sure i fit, hm?” he teased, eyes connecting with yours as one of his tatted fingers teased your entrance whilst sucking on your clit. you hated the thought of any woman before you in his life, but you thanked every higher power above that he knew what he was doing, feeling your high in your stomach already.

he instered a finger, pumping at a pace that had your toes curling. the whines that were leaving you made him dizzy, he wanted more. it wasn’t long before he inserted another, beginning to thrust them in unison whilst you chanted his name.

he groaned at the sight of you lifting your hips, desperate to reach your high. he had no idea he was grinding into the bed, chasing a high of his own as he watched you quiver and moan. “so tight, y/n, can’t wait to feel you on my cock. hm? won’t be able to think once you’re being fucked right, baby.”

you nodded, head empty and hands shaking. “w-want it, kookie, want it so bad.”

his fingers quickened, getting rougher and going harder as he sucked on your clit. he could feel you getting restless, knew you were on the edge from the way you were pushing his head closer without even realising. he could feel his sick obsession in his brain growing rapidly knowing you wanted him just as much, it felt like nothing else mattered than making you good.

“jungkook.” you let out a high pitched squeal, feeling your high rapidly approaching before your legs began to shake, and hips began to raise. your high ran through you like a shot of electricity, as your moans grew higher, his fingers pumped faster and his hand pressed down onto your stomach, forcing you to feel every inch of your orgasm.

he parted from you after you began quivering from overstimulation, plopping his fingers into his mouth to memorise your addicting taste. he hovered over you once more, the tent in his bottoms too large for you to ignore.

“i hate that you’re so good at that.” you panted, unable to meet his eyes as your focused on his bulge. he smirked, watching you, placing your smaller hand onto it so you could feel him fully. “i’m all yours now baby. gonna eat you out every chance you give me.”

your eyes met, a shared grin forming between you both before you pulled him in sharply for a kiss. hot and heavy, you could taste yourself on him which drove you insane - you reached for his pyjama bottoms, pushing them down almost desperately.

parting from him, with hooded eyes, you looked down at his cock. so big and thick, prettier than any you’d ever seen before you let out the cutest moan. he swore he could die happy. “how are you this perfect, and you have a pretty dick?”

“are you trying to inflate my ego? it’s working. i’ll get that tatted on my chest, don’t play.”

you giggled up at him before pumping him, both hands moving up and down as you sighed. “want you inside me, kookie.” you peered up. “don’t make me wait anymore.”

he pressed one last kiss to you, groaning at the feel of your hands around his already sensitive member. he parted your legs, one peek at your messy core enough to drive him insane before he began rubbing the head over you.

“don’t think you’ll fit.” you whimpered, the feel of him all encompassing.

“i’ll make it fit, was born for you baby.” jungkook promised, as he began pushing his cock in, your core instantly clenching around him. he began slowly, until he was fully inside, pelvis to pelvis, eyes fluttering shut.

you’d never felt so full in your life, the stretch both delicious and overwhelming. your fingers clawed at his large biceps, whimpers and quivers filling in the air as he held you tightly, whispering sweet nothings about how good you were for him, how incredible you felt. once you gave him the green light, he began thrusting.

he couldn’t believe this is what he was missing out on. he couldn’t believe how tightly and warmly you felt around him, felt like he was finally coming home.

his hips snapped against yours slowly, letting you feel every inch as your moans got louder and louder. “faster, kook.” you begged, though you knew you never had to, he’d give you the world.

“fuck, fuck, fuck.” he chanted, his pace changing as he began to thrust faster per your request, pressing his head against yours. “feel so good, my y/n, my girl.”

you clenched around him over his words making him airily chuckle, thrusting harder at that. “yeah, like that? like me calling you my girl?”

“yeah, wanna be yours jungkook.” you whimpered back, legs reaching up to wrap around his waist as he began to thrust deeper.

the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air and he knew his neighbours would be furious tomorrow, but could hardly begin to care. “you are, hm? was always my girl, you’re all mine and i’m all yours.” he promised, biceps flexing beside your face. “won’t ever let you go.”

you mewled loudly, hands finding home in his hair as you pulled against the strands. “feel so full.”

“yeah? pussy loves it baby, loves taking it.” he growled back, head hiding in your neck, leaving hickeys.

you could already feel your high approaching, but you couldn’t bare for this to end yet, lightly pushing his chest. he immediately pulled himself up and stopped thrusting, looking down at you with furrowed eyes. “wanna ride you.” you whimpered to which he threw his head back in what could only be a pathetic groan.

“you’re going to kill me, y/n.”

soon, your positions had changed and you were slipping him back inside, the two of you moaning loudly at the feel of one another in such a deeply intimate way. he felt so much bigger like this, and the feeling of fullness for you and your heat for him were enough to drive you mad.

he watched as you began to bounce, body contorting at the feeling of pleasure running through you. this was the hottest sight he had ever seen, your hands pressed against his chest to stabilise yourself.

“fuck yourself on my cock, that’s it.” he cooed, hands grabbing onto your ass before landing a harsh spank, to which you mewled and rode faster. you had no idea to what extent you were driving him crazy.

he watched as you rose, hands now held behind yourself as you practically used him to get off. the sight was severed into his brain forever, with his fingers rubbing your clit to bring you closer to your high. “already so close, feels too good.” you moaned.

music to his ears, jungkook thought. you were getting tighter and tighter, no doubt nearing your second high but he couldn’t bring himself to lay back anymore. he grabbed your ass again, before bouncing you up and down himself, your moans getting expeditiously louder.

“jungkook!” you squealed, feeling his cock fuck you in a way no one had ever managed to. you were addicted, you had no idea how you were ever suppose to live again after this, after experiencing heaven.

“fuck baby, can feel you getting close hm? wanna cum with me, wanna cum on my cock?” he cooed at you, switching your positions again. you were now on your side, one leg on his shoulder whilst he hovered over you, pounding roughly whilst rubbing your clit.

you chanted yes over and over, his free hand holding your own as he could feel his own high approaching. with the final rub to your clit, your breath stitched as your orgasm rushed through every inch of you, shaking your body beneath him.

the sight alone was enough to bring him to his own high, giving you one last sloppy thrust before cumming, his fingers on your clit not letting up as he chased you through your high, your moans twisting into one another.

his fingers fell, alongside your leg on his shoulder leaving you both a shuddering mess. he immediately found home, his forehead touching yours whilst your breaths mingled, panting at one another.

you spent a few minutes just like that, getting your bearings before he slowly pulled out, groaning at the sight of his cum trailing out of you.

“you okay, did i go too hard?” he cooed at you, his hands reaching for your face as he planted sweet kisses over your cheeks.

“felt so good, kookie. felt perfect.” you whispered back, wrapping your arms around his neck immediately, pulling him down to properly meet you beside him.

he could hardly believe it. the love of his life, cuddling into him after a session of pure passion and lust. he was addicted to you; sure that no other drug would be as potent as you. completely ruined from the inside out.

you both stayed silent for a while, simply caressing and kissing each other. it felt so pure, so right that you felt ashamed knowing you hadn’t told him your feelings earlier. you had long forgotten everything that happened that night, your brain totally encompassed by the thought of him.

“i’m never going to live down the fact i should have confessed to you earlier.” he frowned at you. “we wasted so much time.”

to this, you giggled, holding him close. “we were idiots, but i guess this means we have to make up for it, right?”

jungkook grinned widely at your words, taking your hand in his and lightly kissing your fingertips. “firstly,” he began, sitting up slightly so that you could look at him properly. “i love you, love you so much i can’t breathe when i look at you.”

you took him in, a bashful smile forming. “secondly, know i didn’t properly ask but this makes you my girlfriend, right?” he asked, smiling wider as he watched you nod excitedly with a squeak. “not for long though, i’ll put a pretty ring on that finger in no time.”

your mouth fell open at his words, eyes widening. “jungkook, you can’t say that!” you giggled, evidently very giddy at his words. say more, your heart screamed.

“please, i’ve learnt my lesson y/n. not wasting any more time.” he teased back, the two of you embracing and sharing a sweet kiss.

this was everything you both had wanted and more, spending the rest of the night talking, embracing and perhaps dabbling in other pleasurable activities. soon, you both fell asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms. home, at last.

——

“you owe me like 50.” namjoon grinned widely at jimin.

the group had walked into jungkook’s apartment, each bringing breakfast assortments and flowers for you to make sure you were alright. they had been so worried last night that they’d gone straight home, each of them unsure of what to do but all understanding that the safest place for you to be was with jungkook.

when jin had seen yoongi and examined the redness of his knuckles, he couldn’t help but grin, knowing full well the boy had probably paid jaehyun a little visit sometime in the night. neither party said anything, but an understanding was shared. you were the youngest of the group, and of course, they were incredibly protective.

what they didn’t, expect, however was to see you cuddled up in jungkook’s arms, the two of you snoring away, evidently naked considering the duvet was hardly doing anything for modesty. upon sight of this, they all silently cheered, filtering out into the living room.

“no way, you ALL owe me 80, i said they’d fuck, you guys just said they’d confess.” yejin chimed in with a grumble, prodding a figure into the taller man’s chest.

hobi couldn’t help his giggles as he began unpacking breakfast. “whatever, can we all just be glad that this ordeal is finally over?”

taehyung nodded. “no more y/n pining.”

“no more jungkook whining.” jin added.

“no more will they, won’t they.” namjoon grinned, grabbing a seat at jungkook’s kitchen table.

“no more does she lo-“ yejin began, before shutting her mouth immediately. all eyes furrowed, including hers, straining their ears to hear the sudden noises forming in the bedroom as their heads snapped, looking over.

a moan filtered out into the air to which everyone groaned, realising what had instead replaced it. “pack it up, lovebirds.” jin shouted loudly. “breakfast on the table in 5, i expect you out and showered.”

[velaenam]

𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲

                                                                         ◦ ♡

𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐛 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 – non!mc. you are a successful aerospace engineer, a girlboss, with terrible luck in romance. let's hope this strangers website brings you out of that rut! 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 / 𝐭𝐰 – NSFW topics! swearing/foul language, strangers, slow burn, talks of depression/mental health, guilt tripping, manipulation, tba notes – not proofread. remember to read tags if you do have triggers. i try my best to update tags regarding each chapters, xo. 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 - 5 of many ! previous chapter | next chapter

before we start. i started compiling a playlist for this story if you were interested lol. main song at the top, along with a bunch of music i listened to while writing this aka inspo LOL . music will be added as i go through the story. also THE TEXT MSGS ARE MAAAD RAUNCY BAYBEE LIKE GOOD GAWD.. U N CALEB ARE DOGGS... ;)

caleb gets up and leaves his phone on the couch. he grabs all the dishes and puts them in the sink. as he clangs around the kitchen she stirs from her sleep. she mumbles incoherencies as she fishes for her phone, her fingers gripping his. she turns it on and blinks at it. 

“whispr notification” she mumbles out, as her eyes squint at it, still needing to readjust her peripherals. she types calebs password with ease and her eyes glue to the notification. she hovers just before clicking it and waiting for the message to arrive.

space baby: you’re okay. not mad, just sad. id like to meet you. ive been thinking about you more than i thought and i think id like to see you if youre okay with that

her stomach drops and she stares at the messages, reading up as much as she possibly can before her lip quivers into some sickened jealousy. who is space baby and why is he talking to her? his wink emoji is reserved for me. why is he flirting with this woman he doesn’t know? a fire in her eyes ignite as she pathetically scrolls through the conversation, each talk lodging a jealous knife into her chest.  

as she goes through, shes hit with a chestful of pain. her lips tremble, is it from jealousy? from the fact her best friend couldn’t text her how he was feeling, and hes reaching out to someone else? as her feelings arise to the surface, caleb finishes cleaning the dishes, and rubs his neck, and walking over to the other side of the hallway. he rummages through the hallway closet, grabbing a towel, “hey pipsqueak, can i shower?” he calls out to her, and she gives him a loud ‘mhm’ before returning to sneak through the phone texts.

space baby: so we can ask anything we want since we’re two randoms right? captain apple: yep! no judgement here. space baby: favorite sex position? captain apple: hmm, i think it’d be cowgirl. i like when the woman is in control, missionary too– honestly as long as i can watch your face kind of thing. you get what i mean? space baby: no yeah i literally have the same mindset, i have a thing with power. dunno why. captain apple: ive got a thing for power too. 

she scowls, as this was unbearable to her. seeing this person speaking to caleb in such a dirty way, made her skin stand, her blood boil, her body temperature drop. 

captain apple: this is really weird, but do you use toys on yourself? i’m a guy obviously, but what do you think of men using toys? space baby: i have toys, but i don’t use them as frequent as i want. and yeah honestly, i don’t care if men use toys. kinda cute actually.  captain apple: cute? haha , space baby your vocab is limited. space baby: hey! it is! wtf lol

she wanted to vomit. caleb was so lewd-- so shameless, and with a random woman no less. this fucked with her as she continues, ignoring her senses

captain apple: do you believe in love? space baby: no i don’t. do you? captain apple: i do. maybe i can change your mind ;) space baby: you are…. so…so corny.. oh my god captain apple: but you didn’t say no!  space baby: fuck ok yes lol. can’t say no to you, you charming man. captain apple: well, maybe one day i can see your flushed face.  space baby: you can maybe see more than that.  captain apple: look who’s corny now! space baby: was it really? captain apple: no… that was.. space baby: ;)

that was enough for her. she throws the phone, and it shuffles onto the edge of the couch. she sits up from her seat, her chin on her knees. she contemplated, biting her bottom lip in debate as she waited for caleb to return. 

as he comes out of the shower he has a towel around his waist, and another towel in his hand rubbing his hair dry. he walks towards the living room where his friend sits balled up, and he goes to touch her head. she scrambles, pulling herself away from caleb.

“what’s the matter pips-” – “who is she?” her voice was low, almost trembling– not with fear, but laced with malice, “why are you texting her so much?” she reaches for his phone, dangling it in the air in front of him. caleb’s mouth goes dry, his face flash with guilt that he couldn’t hide fast enough, “it’s not– she’s just some random stranger that i met from the app. that’s all pips.” he attempts, but she shakes her head, “no- not from the conversations that i saw!” caleb stops in his track, a serious invasion of privacy. he tenses, but his demeanor doesn’t change, “what did you see, pipsqueak?”

she shakes her head again, turning his phone on, “i saw enough! caleb… i thought we were closer… i thought i’d be your #1.. it seems like someone else has your heart now….” she turns away her hurt evident from the things she had read. caleb was dumbfounded, lost, confused. he had never seen her act  so possessive of him, and he couldn’t understand why. whether she did this on purpose made his heart beat harder than he thought it could. 

“i’m sorry pipsqueak i-” caleb goes to defend himself, only to be cut off again by his pipsqueak, “you said we tell each other everything, you said we didn’t keep things!” – “i wasn’t hiding it..” he really wasn't. the man hadn't seen her in months.

“then why does this feel like betrayal?!” her eyes were glossed, but not from the tears. there was something wild behind them– hurt laced with protectiveness? “unadd her. block her, right now, caleb.” she huffs, holding the phone like it burned her, becking him to take it and oblige her. 

caleb looks at her stunned, heart pounding for reasons he wasn’t ready to say, “you don’t get to decide that.” he states dryly, eyes staring to darken as his hands move up to snatch the phone from her hands, “i do when it’s you.” she murmurs, looking off to the side, “because you’re mine , you’ve always been mine.” 

the silence that followed was suffocating— filled with everything he wanted to say and everything he could bring himself to. and somewhere between the space of loyalty and something messier— or rawer, caleb realizes they may be standing on the edge of a line they may not be able to recross one done so. 

he looks down at her piercing gaze, then back to his phone. he turns it on, putting his password in, and clicking whispr. he looks at it and begins to type, “caleb.” she pleads. his face snap to hers, and he could see how hurt she looked. at that moment he was faced with a choice. 

he hits backspace and clicks on the three dots above space baby’s name, 

“unmatch and unadd?”  click.

he slides next to her, and wraps his arm around her as she sobbed quietly. a mix of regret and pain in his eyes. pain that he felt that he had to make such a consequential choice. regret of the unknown. perhaps he lied to himself more than he wanted to? now he will never know who she was, and that was going to sting for a little bit

“im sorry… i didn’t know that was hurtful to you.. ill never do that again.” he brushes her hair as he leans his body towards her.

days turn into weeks and weeks turn into months. your maverick stunt was a side quest and your main one was getting neglected big time. skyhavens hangar hums quietly— save for the random bursts of the jet engines hydraulics or your footsteps. you move through active schematics, and glowing consoles, your sleeves rolled up, and your hair tied back. it’s been hours—- no days, since you’ve left the hangar. a cold cup of coffee and an inhaler of some sorts occupy your desk.

you adjust the thrust vectoring array on the new farspace fleet prototype. sleek, nimble, build for tunnel speed reactivity. your fingers move quickly and clinically, for distraction purposes.

there was a small hum from the console as a tech officer patches in while you were mid work, “you’re still here?” you respond without looking up, “this is where i work, and live apparently.” 

there was only a brief silence before the tech talks again, “you’ve run the thermal dispersal model 6 times now.” and without missing a beat, as if you were waiting for him to say something, “well it’s still not good enough. the tunnels don’t forgive errors.” 

once again you’re met by silence, assuming the tech unlinked the call, you sigh, before looking up at the model that returned your reflection, “at least you don’t vanish without a word.” 

caleb had a time after blocking space baby. he continued his regularly scheduled vacation to see her, and they spent more time texting. with her trying to text in the way space baby did, he felt appalled and quite honestly, icky. he didn’t have that weird connection that he did with her than he did with space baby, so with her trying to replace space baby it made him feel conflicted. on one hand it made him feel dejected, this kind of conversation is odd to have with someone he knew and no less, was attached to the hip. but on the other hand it makes him feel comfortable, and more domestic. 

he hadn’t seen you lately either. he’d ask about you and he’d hear multiple things in passing 

“probably busy with the new orders she got”

“she went to another country for work”

“they said she’s not in the building right now..” 

“she’s off and no i won’t disclose her whereabouts” caleb’d even gone to majors himself

when you were the topic there were excuses,  and he hates to admit but a part of him started to get even more sad. shifting three different attention into one person made life boring for him. you were suddenly so busy, and space baby no longer existed to him. he even tried to talk to whispr tech support about getting data and rematching and they’d give him the same answer.

he tried to find space baby again on whispr but by the end of the 2 weeks long process, he’s given up. space baby just didn’t exist in the system anymore and he had to come to terms with that. he relished it while it was fleeting. he enjoyed the life space baby gave the conversation, and sometimes took the reins. she didn’t do either. she was monotone, and would avert the conversation to her own accord. as much as he enjoyed getting that attention from her once more that he so much wanted weeks ago, he simply understood that life moves on, and part of moving one was meeting new people, or maybe it was to let things die down, and see where life took him.

you were okay for the most part. if you were lying to yourself of course. this whole situation made you feel even more iced out. your barrier got higher, and you worked and worked. you went out with your friends from time to time, but they definitely noticed the difference with you now.  it was temporary though– you’d promise. however,  you were just really bad with timing as usual. when you were going to take some time off the DAA called you into the office to have you start a highly classified program and you would work with multitudes of people from other departments. you’d be working with the DAA officially from here on out— or until you finished your project. so much for your planned vacation to another country. 

you finally finished, everything was going according to plan. you just had to finish the panel with the officials before you could take a temporary break. they knew they were straining you dry for having a one woman army tackle this, but there was nobody capable but you.

the room was stark and high tech, built for strategy and scrutiny. the prototype 3d model— sleek and formidable, rotators above the center table, and around the prototype a half circle of farspace fleet officials, commanders, engineers, and senior pilots sit stone faced and attentive.

you stand in front of the projector, a tablet in hand, and your shoulders squared. as they finish their conversations they turn to you, eyes locking with yours. you give them a half smile as you start your presentation. 

“good morning, I will be presenting the TG-X— the next generation tunnel rated aircraft designed for deep environment response“ and maneuverability, extended endurance in high-pressure zones, and rapid escape from collapse vectors.” 

you gesture and the ships hologram peels apart, revealing it’s system in layers, engines, shielding, navigation grid, etc. you clear your throat as the men and women look into each layers meticulously, “the TG-X runs on a twin-core propulsion system with independent stabilizer logic. that allows real time response with deepspace turbulence– down to .5 second input delay- give or take.” 

a fleet commander raises his fingers, his gruff voice ringing through the air, “twin-core setups overheat. you are risking a meltdown during boost.” your eyes dart to him, “not with our thermal regulators. each core is cooled by a fluid compression loop embedded in the outer hull struts– testing shows how heat dispersion exceeds prior models by 20-30 percent.” you flick your tablet, and the projection changes to a simulation. the TG-X navigating a collapsing tunnel scenario. field littered with debris, volatile currents, wanderers around. the ship dips, rolls, and escapes- cleanly.

the room is silent, the fleets people look amongst each other, clearly intrigued. the senior pilot leans in, her fingers trailing the wings, “and the wing design.. looks a little too light for heavy evasive thrusts, no?”  you tilt your head, clicking on the wing, and it opens the list of things it was comprised of, “flexible carbon titanium weave. reinforced at pivot points. it’s light because it has to be. if you’re using brute force in the tunnels well… you’re already dead.” 

that hangs in the air. a few of the officers glance at each other, before another one piped up, “you built this for survivability?” – “i build this so the people who fly it might actually come back.” it’s quiet once again. it settles like a weighted blanket. you stare off into the row of power, till you look back down on your tablet, the commander grunts, as if in a approving way, “we will authorize a full field evaluation. please prepare your men for the next proceeding.” 

you nod curtly, and they slowly file out of the room, until it was just you and your creation.  you don’t tremble. your hands don’t shake, even when they lower the lights and shut down the hologram. you stand, surrounded by silence and tech. no applause, and no words.  your design held up to the most powerful military government in the world, and they listened. this was your power. 

it was a cold evening, but you were even colder as you stood there, tight lipped, while your engineers yelled amongst each other. you tap your fingers on the table, as you look around the area of effect. whiteboard full of scribbles, schematics scattered everywhere, parts on the table, and the prototype sits pretty in the middle of everything. it was kinda relaxing, if hell relaxed you.

definitely beats watching reruns and being sad over a stupid captain apple. 

your thoughts are pried from you as one of the engineers slam their tablet down, “we can’t just run a single coolant loop through the avionics bay! if that line fails we lose guidance control and telemetry! do you not understand how difficult that’s going to be to deal with?” 

“we have a back up-”

“no we have a band aid. its redundant, and not to mention, wishful thinking!” in the corner like a wrestler another engineer raises his hand, “what if we triple the coolant lines. you wanna make it so dense back there no one can service it without disassembling the whole panel?”  finally you chuckle against their bickering, “if someone says serviceability i’ll kill everyone in here. this is a spacecraft, not a family sedan.”  

they all halt their bickering, as you continue, “you’re all right. avionics goes down– we lose everything. cant overload the architecture of the ‘craft. we need an active failover loop. independent routing, isolated power, isolated control logic.” 

you see them slump their shoulders in relief as they slink back into their seats, before you continue again, you start to point your fingers as you spoke to them, “you two rework the trunk layout and confirm thermal thresholds. you– build me a sim with both loop failures and see how long we can survive. and i- will be on redundancy logic. we need that switchover to be instant. autonomous.”  everybody grumbles, before nodding and dispersing for the night. 

they leave and you sit down, your finger rubbing circles on your temple. you were tired out of your mind. you couldn’t sleep though, you had damn near 4 cups of coffee and you were wired out of your mind. 

you grabbed your jacket as you closed the area down for the day. your heels click clack against the tarmac, and as you round the corner you spot a shadow a ways away, near a jet. your brows raise, as it was turning night, and no pilots that you knew of were supposed to be out doing night routines. 

you walk towards the shadow. you walking towards the shadow with absolutely no experience with combat, or a gun, you think to yourself, if this was a bad guy you were done for. but at the same time you were a mean track star back in college, so maybe you could outrun this figure. 

as you think of your possible early death you hear a donk, and followed by a “fuck!” and it snaps you out. it sounded like caleb. “pilot! what the hell are you doing out here this late?” you yell through the howling wind.

calebs body moves to the sound of your voice, and he drops his wrench. “oh shit– sorry. thought everybody was gone already.” your brows raise as he sits on the metal box, fiddling with the undercarriage. you sit down on the free metallic box and observe him. “i just got out of my meeting. you know there are workers for that right?” caleb chuckles as he moves out from the undercarriage, his smile accompanied with a grease line on his jaw. “its nice to be able to know how your companion works. i prefer to do things hands on.” he grabs the towel and rubs the grease off his face and arms, before tilting his head at you, “you know, i haven’t seen you in a while. how’ve you been?” 

“i’ve been better. exhausted honestly.” you put your hand in your face, groaning, “but i can’t sleep. 4th cup of coffee, and i think i have meetings back to back tomorrow, so i have to plan for that.” caleb nods sitting across from you. he grabs his squeeze bottle, taking a quick drink before he looks at you again, “you’re good with her. your plane.” he gives you a sheepish grin, before nodding, “i try to be.” 

“you’re not bad with people either.” you state, and his eyes linger on yours for a second longer, lips curving a bit. “i’ve got a good one in front of me right now. kind of hard to mess that up.” the words hang there, soft and honest. for a second your tired pacing mind stills. no simulations, no systems failing, no heat signatures or safety thresholds… just– him. caleb. 

and it feels nice.

..

..

“do you want to take a nap with me?” your eyes widen, what does that mean? “huh?” you reply dumbfoundedly, and he chuckles, “i mean i woke up from a nap, so i won’t be going to bed anytime soon. if you wanted i could wake you up so you could make it to your meeting on time?” 

you couldn’t help but feel warm from that statement. that was just– lovely. you’d be a fool to say– “no.” you mumbled softly, and caleb laughs awkwardly, “well, i figured i’d offer you.” you rise from the metallic box, and place your hand on his shoulder, “i appreciate your offer, caleb. but i think i’ll manage.” you go to ruffle his hair, and he grips your wrist gently. the two of you stare into each others eyes briefly before you let go so abruptly. you clear your throat, nodding at him, “good night caleb.” 

“good night” he says quietly as he watched you walk off into the building.

a couple weeks go by, your run ins with caleb became more prevalent. you’d be walking around the corner and crash into him. you’d see him walk into the lounge with his friends and they’d take turns ogling you like a piece of meat. you were fine with it, carnal desire was human. but the moment catcalling started hands would be thrown. but they knew better than that. they’d definitely get court martialed for less. 

he would try to get you involved in the stupid escapades the pilots and cadets were doing, only for it to fail miserably as you glare daggers and walked off, but he’d always catch that smile on your face as you rounded the corner. so to him it was worth the trouble.

you’d lock eyes with him as he got ready for flight, the hands on shoulders become more frequent, and your relationship with him gradually rises. the lingering stare became more of a thing when he’d pick up your food for you when you ordered something. he knew where your office was, and he’d make the trek across the runways just to bring it to you if needed. you'd stare at him, maybe share a meal if he had time. talk about your shared interest. shared interested that you may have already known from whispr.

you were a bit intrigued with his sudden pamper to you. you thought it would be because of the moment you two shared the other night, but you also figured that caleb was just a kind guy. a kind guy that was interested in you. not that you were against that– you were clearly interested in him as well. 

knock knock 

“come in” you say monotonously through the tempered glass. your eyes move to see who had come in, and it was caleb. he had a cup of coffee from the shop you had talked about, and your face turned to glee.

“i got you a brown shaken espresso. it’s new.” you thanked him and grabbed the cup, the hot content warming your cold fingers. oh yes, the richest government property in the country and their AC/heater was fucked. 

“thank you so much. how much do i owe you?” he shakes his head as he sits across your desk, “its nothing. honestly.” caleb chuckled, and you stare at him as your computer popped up an email. you read it as it comes in. it simply read;

“maverick is captain calebs. love dad.” you state to caleb. his eyes widen as he smiles in glee, “oh really? you sure you didn’t mess with the results?” you chuckle, shaking your head as you sipped the drink, “course not. but im not surprised. you performed exceptionally well compared to others. you blew them out of the water.” you chuckle at him as the two of you converse about what the next plan of topic was for the maverick. they would be swapping his current plane with the maverick, and they’d have his name on the side and everything. 

“caleb, what are you doing for the holidays?” 

he stills, and for a moment he looked like he was thinking. he did promise he was going to see his pipsqueak, but ever since the events that had happened when he last went, he was a bit drawn back. but he also promised her, and he’s never broke a promise to her.

“i’m probably going to go see pipsqueak..” – “is that like your pet?” – “n-no that’s my best friend in linkon..”-- “your best friends name is pipsqueak? like the radio nav?” he looked flustered, “y-yeah.. that..but no-- thats not her actual name” 

“well that’s cute.” you lie, your deadpan voice giving it away, he chuckles lowly, and puts his cup down, “what about you? anyone special you’re spending time with during the holidays?”  you place your palm on your jaw, and lean your elbow into the desk, a smirk flashing in your eyes, “oh, are you offering?” his face tints pink– and his ears! you giggle as you saw his face redden, and as embarrassing as it was for him, caleb felt at home. you were so warm, and your laugh was music to his ears. he feels as if he was falling, in a good way.

“i could be..” 

“well, i’ll hold you to that.. though, holidays aren’t in like another couple weeks.. but i do love to reserve ahead of time. you’ve got yourself a deal mr caleb.” you wink, and he smiles, before the intercom calls for ‘captain caleb to hangar 23’. he excuses himself as you nod at him, going back to your work. 

friday- he’s out with his friends, bar hopping, except he was designated driver. they were let go early due to the fleet having to come in and conduct their meeting. the fewer eyes the better for them as they say. so now his group of friends and him were currently at another bar to celebrate the early off into the weekend. 

he comes outside of the bar, taking a deep deep breath and closing his eyes. a semblance of peace was all he needed before he went crazy in there. he leans into the brick wall, steadying his breath as he continued to relax.

the neon sign hums, ‘OPEN’ with the E flickering here and there. music and muffled laughter spilling out everytime the door swings open. it was a pilot’s hangout– gritty and loud. the kind of place people go to forget the pressure of space and hardness of work. 

“-- well well, you look exhausted, captain.” his eyes snapshot open, catching your eyes. he straightens a little, turning his body to meet yours. “oh! you caught me off duty. don’t tell command…” he murmurs, and you laugh gently, shaking your head, “relax, i’m not a snitch. i also don’t care what DAA’s finest does on their off time. it’s been a tiring couple months for everybody.” 

a short silence settles between you two. not awkward, but not easy. he watched you stare at him, as he takes your outfit in. you wore it simple today. rings, earrings, v cut short sleeve, with high waisted pants, and white sneakers. when he noticed his prolonged stare he breaks contact, shifting his gaze through the window to watch his friends holler into a mic. he turns back to you, his eyes twinkling as it clashed with the neon colors, “what’re you doing here such a dingy area?” you join him, leaning on the brick wall yourself, and you shrug, “i love the bar food here. you?” – “i’m the guys designated driver for the night. not a big alcohol guy.” 

your eyes move to look at him, your impending curiosity beating harder. you wanted to know so bad. “responsible. how sweet. what do you do to relax and give yourself time?” you smiled at him, as the two of you watch the cars drive by. caleb hums a small chuckle, “well, i like watching planes take off.. i used to do it a lot when i was younger– with my best friend. i also read a lot of books on my free time. i’m a fan of dinosaurs and jurassic park, if you’ve heard?” 

you shake your head, “no i definitely have not, but it sounds cool. are you doing anything this weekend?” you go to reach your phone, and caleb shakes his head, “nope. how did your date with gideon go? he didn’t want to tell me.” 

you freeze up, and purse your lips, looking off to the side, looking a bit guilty. “i couldn’t do it. my mind was just preoccupied, and i don’t really date.” you lie, as you bump phones with caleb. he just gives you a nod and a ‘ah’ before you smile up at him again, “i apologize, but i’ve gotta get going. i bought pizza for tonight, and it’s ready for me. i hope to hear from you soon?” you tilt your head at him as you start for the door. caleb could only give you a nod.

you are home. tired, damn near defeated, but home. you place your pizza in the oven and set it to warm as you head to your room to change into something comfortable. you throw on your robe and your satin loungewear. you got a couple of drinks on the way home after your run in with caleb, and decided to settle down and catch up on island love. 

the pizza was sweltering, cheese ready to stretch as you pull a piece apart. it was like a cartoon pizza. it made your mouth water as you got yourself ready to pull an all nighter.

not 1 hour in you get a call. it was from caleb. you fumble your phone and hit answer as you lower the volume of the tv show, “hello?” he goes first, and you clear your throat, smiling through your words, “didn’t expect to hear from you so soon, caleb.” you could hear his laugh, his tone low and warm, “i just wanted to check and make sure you made it home..” it was a lie, and you both knew it, “you know… your delivery sucks…” you chuckle, and he does too after a second, “hm you know i’m kinda working on it.” 

there was a brief silence, before you ask the obvious, “why are you calling me this late?” another silence, followed by , “just dropped everybody off, and wanted to talk to you.” your heart skips a beat, and you swallow hard, fighting the smile creeping on your face, “hey caleb, do you want to come over? if you’re not tired. do you like chinese food?” 

“i’d be happy to. text me your address, and yes i do.”

“great. i’ll have majors pick you up.” 

-

caleb was lost for words. he was in the back of a sleek and kept car. assuming yours, with majors driving and on calebs lap, was a bag of chinese food that majors had picked up on his way to pick caleb up. you certainly had a lifestyle he was not known to. 

as majors gets out, he opens the door for caleb. he gets out, and he is met with a skyscraper in front of him. it was so very obvious you would have to have some sort of money to live in a place like this. he swore the foyer had real diamonds in there as he ogled. 

majors leads him to the elevator and they both get in. the silence kills them, as they stand apart, staring at the metallic door. 

ding! majors steps out first and followed by caleb. 

“be careful with her.” caleb looks to majors, who was just walking ahead, not a beat missed, “it’ll take a while for you to get used to her ways, but she’s a good woman.” he states, as he knocks on your apartment door. the sound of your shuffles break the quietness that meditated in the hallway, and shortly after your door opens. 

majors nods to you before heading out of sight, and you stand here with caleb. your face breaks out into a smile, and you step aside, urging him to come in. caleb comes in, staring in awe at how breathtaking your apartment was. there were faux models of black and white planes suspended on the sides, about the size of his forearms. he looked at the photos of what looked like was your father on maverick when he was still piloting it, grinning under his helmet. another wall was filled with your degrees, framed like trophies, centered around a photo of your graduation. you were certainly distinguished. he even looks at your dinner table– a blueprint heaven. tools, notebooks, a half-dissected engine schematic. you never stop working, it seems. “you ever turn your brain off?” he mumbles just loud enough for you to hear, and he hears your sweet chuckle float over his shoulder before you indulge him, “if i did that then i’d have no money, and you wouldn't have mav.”

on a nearby bookshelf, caleb spots a faded photo in a silver frame. a much younger version of you is perched on your dad’s shoulder, both of you wearing matching aviator sunglasses. theres  grease on his flight suit, and juice stains on your overalls. he chuckled, his heart warming at the sight of. he can really tell your love for planes. hell, it might even be more than his. 

he snaps out of his trance as he joins you on the couch. he looks down at the coffee table, a cute little metallic version of maverick on the middle, along with some magazines and a candle. he watches as you clear it out to the side and pat the table.

“hey. here’s the take out you wanted.”  he says as he places the takeout in front of you both. “i didn’t know what you wanted, so i ordered some other stuff.” you say, as you take everything out of the bag, placing them on the coffee table. he stares at you as you take everything out, before turning his attention to the tv in front of you both. “what are we watching?” he chuckles, as you take your place next to him. 

“island love. it’s juicy, it provides me drama in my life that i do not have.” you say pridefully, as you explain the premise of the show to caleb. he looked so into it, asking you questions as you restart the season just for him. he comments on the show just as much as you do, and this made your heart flutter, and the butterflies in your stomach come alive. 

“you’re not gonna eat that last dumpling are you?” caleb asks with a sly grin. your brows raise, “was gonna save it…” he leans over, splitting the dumpling in half with his chopstick, and drops a piece into your container. he smirks at you, “compromise” he says as he chews on his half.

there’s a lull. the screen flickers. the two of you are quiet but not uncomfortable. he leans back a little, finishing his drink, and you catch yourself watching him. he looks good here. settled. natural. too natural, maybe. you shake the thought, tucking your feet beneath you. ugh god he’s fine.

you two talk—about work, about families, about stupid stuff. it’s easy, and warm, and you realize somewhere between the second dumpling and your explanation of why jamie should’ve never picked chloe that you don’t want this night to end. 

“so hey, question.” you grab the remote and turn the volume down as you look at caleb. he looks at you, grabbing his drink, “gideon told me you use whispr? he told me about your silly challenge.” you laugh briskly, and he nods, joining in, “did he tell you that i had to take them out for dinner?” he chuckles again, placing his drink on the table. your eyes never leave his, as you open your mouth to speak:

“ captain apple, was it?” 

his eyes widen.

it takes him back to the time where he got busted by grandma. he was trying to sneak some food up the stairs, and was strictly forbidden to take food in his room. so when he got busted he looked like a deer in headlights. 

the tension between you and caleb shifts, subtle but unmistakable. you tilt your head, repeating your words to him. his eyes finally lock with yours, his awkward smile catching the gleam of the tv, “did he… uh tell you my silly nickname on there?” 

ah, he was playing stupid. you shake your head at him, “ha, for sure. i used it a little bit as well.. lets see.. what was my name on there” you fake ponder, before you continue to mess with him, "space baby i think?" he just stares at you, “oh..” he breathes. 

you always wanted to know who was that charmer in those messages that kept you late at night. the man who was always making you laugh and the one who indulged you. knowing it was caleb made your heart a little happier, but you still wanted to know why the fuck? 

“i can explain…” he starts and you just nod,

“go ahead because we have all night— weekend even.” 

his gaze flicker at you, then his hand, “it’s not what you think… i… when i went to go visit her, my childhood friend? the one i was telling you about that one day., she saw the text messages.” your cheeks flush, those were certainly some raunchy messages. you wondered which one, and a part of you wanted to laugh at her, but you nod at him, “she didn’t like… that i was getting too close to you. she suddenly got- possessive? i’ve never seen the side of her.” he mutters under his breath and you breathe a sigh through your nostril. 'sounds like somebody had a crush they didn't want to come to terms with', you think as you allow him to continue,

“she thought… well, that we were getting too close.. that i was getting…. involved..” caleb shifts uncomfortably, his hands clenching into a fist but quickly releasing, “so to appease her i unadded you.” 

the words sting more than you expected, even though you weren’t really expecting much, it still sucked to hear. unadded. like you were just someone to be removed. the weight of it presses down on you, though you try to smile through it— albeit a little bittersweet.

“so you let your best friend dictate who you can and can’t talk to?” you try to keep the humor in your voice but it comes off a bit cutting to him. that most definitely wasn’t your type of man. having this discussion was cutting it close for you as it is “it’s not like that…” his voice softens with an edge of guilt to it, “i didn’t want to but… it got complicated..” 

your heart flutters out of your chest, and your brows scrunch towards each other, “caleb, complicated was me rerunning tests 6 times in a row with random ass results. i don’t want to be rude but it just sounds like you have no backbone for this girl.” you pinch the bridge of your nose, sighing. he feared that you were right. you were speaking truth to existence and he couldn’t do a damn thing. if anything he enjoyed the truthfulness from you. “im going to state the obvious.  we were flirting back and fourth, like a lot. what are we supposed to do with this new found information?”

caleb looks up at you as he ponders himself, “to be honest. i was a bit more bold in the text messages because… i thought we’d never meet..” you chuckle at him, cheeks tinted in pink, “me too.” but you snap out of it. now was not the time to fall for his sexiness! OR do, either way works.

“im going to level with you. im not much for the three way couple stuff… so if you and i are gonna take whispr out of the internet then… you know.” you wag your finger at him, a playful but curious smile on your face now. caleb laughs, calming down, “yeah i… i know..”  you were not going to deal with this little girl who was his best friend, and you were going to make that very and painfully clear if you had to, and from how much caleb figured, you weren’t going to play about him. it made his heart flutter, amongst other things. you looked sexy when you were possessive.

“so, what do you want to do?” you ask after a minute of silence, caleb leans into his arm staring down at you, and you steel your nerves. those lips were calling your name, “let me ask you a better question. are you interested in me?” he smirks into the question, seeing you unravel in real time. “uhm… yes obviously.” you look away from him, your face turning red. caleb takes his opportunity to chuckle, his fingers hooking your chin and forcing you to stare at him. he leans down to get a better look at you. your eyes were locked on his as he continued, “then… we’ll carry off where we were in whispr, yeah?” 

you were just at a loss of words.

                                                          previous chapter | next chapter

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ! - @rcvcgers, @mcdepressed290, @young-adult-summer, @unstablemiss, @britishfailure, @caramelizedpopcirn, @velvtcherie, @lonelylandofan , @llamabois , @i-messed-up-big-time , @mysticcollectionvoid, @iamawkwardandshy, @auraficial, @mxkvlio, @mysticcollectionvoid, @rxelarailuj, @angelwhizpers,

[agustdtown1]

CLOSER TO YOU [TEASER]

PAIRING: nerdy!roommate!jungkook x OF!reader.

SUMMARY: After getting various comments about your poor filming skills for your OF page, you finally decided to give in and reach out to the one person that could help you with your problem. However, what started as your roommate just helping you to film your video turned into you begging him to fuck you.

How long would it take for Jungkook to finally give in? After all, all he ever wanted was to be closer to you.

WC (teaser): 615, final work is almost 10k

WARNINGS (teaser): swearing, sexual themes, allusion to masturbation, it’s not explicitly stated but reader is fully naked, reader being a little menace and jk being completely whipped for her. The rest of the warnings will be added to the final fic.

A/N: not me coming back here after almost a year of not writing anything. I don’t have any further explanation aside from the fact that my life changed a lot and I got way busier than I thought I would, I also kinda lost inspiration and motivation to write so… there’s that, hopefully with this new fic I’ll be back to writing more often and being active. n e way, enjoy your reading and lmk if u wanna be tagged for the final fic! <3

masterlist

“Kook…” You breathed out, “I need you.”

It was so subtle, so fleeting the smugness that covered his face for a brief instant that you barely noticed. His eyes widened and his lips moved like that of a fish trying to survive out of the water, he didn’t know what to do, much less what to say. 

“Me?” He whispered, completely clueless of the effect he was having on you in that moment. You nodded, fingers stilling in between your legs. “Wh-What do you mean?”

You sat up, stopping the filming once again. “Exactly what I said, I need you… I-I need your help with something else. You can say no, but… I would be forever grateful to you if you said yes.”

Jungkook was putting to use his 128 IQ score to try and understand what you were hinting at, but none the wiser, he needed the words spelled out to him to get your idea. And so, as softly as possible, you explained what your need was actually about. You noticed the way his body reacted to you and the show you were putting on for your viewers but more specifically for him; it was painfully obvious how much he desired you, and in all honesty, you weren’t any better. 

Ever since you two started living together, you swore that you wouldn’t act on the small and silly crush you developed for him after meeting for the first time. It was just a silly attraction that wasn’t worth the hassle of getting involved with your roommate; his built body and big biceps drove you crazy, and you couldn’t turn a blind eye to the intricate tattoos adorning his arm, which was such a stark contrast to the type of man he made himself out to be; the lip ring shining from his mouth was so painfully enticing, and more often than not, you found yourself wondering what it would feel like against your lips while kissing the life out of him. And God bless the person that gets you started on how much you loved those black rimmed glasses that adorned his eyes almost 24/7, giving him a geeky look that would never fail to make you weak in the knees. But all of those features, as well as the lewd scenarios conquering your mind minutes before going to sleep, had made it difficult for you to stay in your lane all this time. Tonight, however, might be your one and only chance to turn your dirty dreams into reality, only and only if Jungkook agreed to your idea.

“I don’t want this to ruin our friendship.” He murmured, looking down at the floor and avoiding your hopeful eyes glaring at him. You reached out for him, your soft hands coming in contact with his covered thighs while you kneeled in front of him. “Y/n… don’t do this to me.” His whole body stiffened, fighting the urge to jump your bones and turn you into a crying mess just like he always imagined.

“You don’t want me like that, Kookie?” You so innocently asked, lashes fluttering against your cheekbones. “Is that the real problem, hm?” Your hands were sliding up and down his thighs, teasing him.

“God, no.” He answered breathlessly, “You have no fucking idea how bad I want you…”  

“Then why don’t you show me? What’s stopping you, hm?” Your cheek resting on his jean-covered thigh elicited a soft gasp from your roommate. “It's just a small favor.” 

“I… fuck, you’re driving me crazy right now.” He ran a hand through his hair, pulling at the ends while letting out a frustrated groan. Jungkook took off his glasses while rubbing his eyes before looking at you again. “You have to promise… you really have to promise that it will be a one-time thing. No more favors after this, at least not of this caliber.” 

You nodded eagerly, looking at him with a spark in your eyes. “I promise, just this time.” 

“Okay,” Jungkook nodded, “I’ll help you with anything you need.”

[mrsfudd]

Behind your back- part 2

warnings: fighting, break up 😟

“PAIGE STOP IM NAKED” KK said trying to keep your sister away

“EW DUDE, JUST HURRY UP PRACTICE IS IN 5” Paige yelled.

You held your breath until you heard the door shut. A wave of guilt ran through your whole body. You really loved KK but somehow you felt like you were betraying Paige. Ever since you were little there was nothing you couldn’t tell her. The more time you spent with KK the more you wondered when that changed.

Your mindlessly packing your bag, overthinking a little too much til KK snaps you out of it.

“Babygirl, you gotta go” KK said trying to rush you in the nicest way possible.

She had your whole existence studied and easily picked up that something was wrong but this wasn’t the time to sit and talk about your feelings.

4:02 pm

Barely surviving your morning classes and trying to avoid Paige all day. You finally got back to your dorm from your last class of the day. You sat on the couch as your roommate started talking to you. You let her ramble and gave her reassuring words every few minutes. You pulled your knees to your chest and started to pick at your nails while you zoning out. Your brain scrambled and you were trapped in your own thoughts until you get a text notification. It was KK.

KK baby 😘: You good mamas? How was your day

You: yes bae, good wbu

KK baby 😘: im good baby, miss u tho can i come thru ?

You: mhm, js knock my roommates here but shes going in her bedroom

If you were being completely honest, you didn’t want KK to come over. Obviously she didn’t do anything, you were just nervous you were going to ruin everything over one mishap. You wanted KKs love and your sister’s trust. You were seriously conflicted and had created an ultimatum in your head. Terrified of losing either, you kept quiet unsure if that was the right idea or not.

6:35 pm

KKs here and it’s weirdly silent.. until its not

“So I was thinking and I feel like we should tell Paige about us” KK blurts out.

Your eyes shoot open, you here the door open and close. Your roommate was gone and so you decided to speak freely.

“KK what do you mean? You already know how P would react I cant do that to her” You say.

“To her? What about me Y/N? What about how I feel? Its killing me having to be all up in Paiges face and then come here just to stab her in the back. We need to tell her. KK says.

“KK no, Im not letting you blow up everything just because you feel bad. You wanted me and you knew what that came with yet you still chose to be with me. You made your bed now lay in it.” You say watching KKs face slowly scrunch.

“Why are you so scared Y/N? Shes your sister, shes going to support you regardless. Im the one who should be scared. Please baby, I wanna love you out loud.” KK says while grabbing for your hand.

“Get off me KK, you wouldn’t have to live with the guilt forever. I would, I have to see her in school and out of school. I love you KK, I really do but im just not ready. If you cant understand that, then I guess this just wont work out.” You say holding back tears.

“Baby, please wait lets just talk. Paige wont take it as hard as you think she will”. KK pleads.

Theres no more convincing you. You were too conflicted and too scared. KK was not going to blow up your life. You needed to clear your head so you grab your keys.

As you open your bedroom door, Paige is standing right there. It wasn’t your roommate who opened the door.

“Are you fucking serious Y/N” Paige said emotionless.

“Paige I-” You say trying to hold back tears.

“No fucking save it. My teammate? I mean wow, and you know whats crazy I wouldn’t even be mad if you came to me about it like a decent fucking person Y/N. But no you couldn’t, KK just begged to come clean and you wanted her to stab my back even more? What kind of sister are you? Matter fact I don’t even know you” Paige said looking disgusted.

Her words felt like a knife in your chest, what did you do? You had to get out. You grabbed your phone and slides and walked out slamming the door behind you.

You drive all around town sobbing. Not knowing what to do or how to fix this. You just lost the love of your life and the trust your sister. All because you were scared of confrontation. You could of had it all if you just spoke up.

Since you joined Paiges friend group it wasn’t like you were apart of the basketball team. If Paige didn’t want her little sister around that was final. No one would argue well KK would, but not anymore.

You drove around for another hour before you return to your dorm. As expected KK and Paige were gone. Your roommate looked at you with wide eyes, you already knew what she was going to say.

“Bitch, what the fuck was that?” She said munching on some snack.

“Chloe, please. Im really not in the mood” You say looking defeated.

“Nah nah come here, jokes aside come talk to me”. She says.

You sit down next to her and start explaining everything that was going on. Fighting back tears with every sentence and realizing how bad you really messed up.

“Okay well I heard them talking after you left and Paige had asked KK still loved you and she said yea. If i was you I would do anything to be back in their good graces, If its still possible Y/N. I cant believe you kept all this from me.”

you were about to respond to her until you had gotten a notification

“Y/N has been removed from the Basketball girls + the baby Group chat”

You heart dropped, and then even more when you saw that it was KK who removed you.

you knew it was going to take something drastic to get back on her good side… and you think you had an idea.

Sorry ik its short butttt part 3???? if i make part 3 i think itll be the final part. lmkkk love ya 😘

@private-but-not-a-secret @teddygrahamslam @syraxsbigfanfr

[long-live-aelin]

Unrequited Love

Quick background summary.

Reader is new to inner circle and is secretly in love with Azriel. Azriel is courting Elain and reader is jealous.

This is just something I couldn't get out of my head. It's not a fully fleshed out idea but thought I would post anyway. Enjoy!

----

I was leaning against one of the uppermost railings in the house of wind breathing the crisp air. The laughter and chatter of the people below echoed up to me and it reminded me of this time last year. My first Starfall would be a memory I would never forget.

I had spent the start of the night in exhilaration and excitement to the build-up to the stars falling, hoping that the view looked as stunning as everyone described. My breath left me when I saw those beautiful souls in the sky and it was unlike anything I had ever seen. I remember thinking that I was born to see those skies lit up in the most magical way.

I remember dancing with my friends who were steadfast becoming a new family. I had never had friends that I could call such a thing. I spent the night dancing upbeat songs with Mor and Feyre, songs that’s wild beat felt like it was echoing in my heart. Laughing at Cassian’s dancing, his booming laugh making me laugh. Slow dancing with Azriel at the end of the night my heart beating so loud in my chest I thought he could hear it. Ending the night with my feet so sore I thought I would never walk again, a wild smile on my face. Brightness bubbling in my chest how lucky I was to find Velaris, these people around me.

Tonight felt very different than that. The wild opposite. My chest felt hollow, longing haunting my every step. I didn’t know how long I could live with that hollowness in my chest reaching for something I would never get, it was madness. The moment I had arrived here I had avoided Azriel at any cost. I knew tonight would be tricky, so I convinced myself I wouldn’t have to see him. See him looking at Elain with his own longing showing on his face, so similar to how I knew mine would look looking at him. And I knew I couldn’t bear it, so I escaped up here after saying enough pleasantries to my friends that they wouldn’t suspect a thing. Mor had given me a brief sad look when she saw me, but I quickly looked away looking for the next person to say hello to so I could get away from the pity in her face. I was starting to regret telling her I was secretly in love with Azriel.

The longer I had stayed up here the more my worries seemed distant. The breeze singing its sweet song to me, the cold wind calming my frayed nerves and soothing my aching heart.

“I had a feeling I would find you here.” I started out of my thoughts, twisting around to the sound of Azriel’s voice at the door to the balcony, only a few steps from me. This balcony felt far too small for the distance I had been trying to keep from him the past few weeks. The closest I had been to him in a while. And god did he look good I could hardly stand it. He was wearing his usual black, but it was more tight fitting and smoother than the Illyrian leathers or the thick armored fighting clothes he wore so often. His shadows swirled haphazardly at his shoulders which I knew meant he was unsure.

He studied me, a serious look on his face. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

I shook my head not knowing what to say. I leaned against the railing subtly as much as I could trying to get distance.

His sharp eyes detected it. He looked back up at me his eyes narrowing even more.

He took a step toward me, a pleading look on his face.  “Y/N I just want to talk. If there’s something I have done tell me because I can’t take this anymore. We’ve been close for so long and every time I try to talk to you or even get close you, you back away like you can’t stand me.” He took another tentative step forward like I was a scared cat he was afraid would bolt at any second and he wasn’t wrong.

I shook my head once more. “You didn’t do anything.” I forced a smile onto my face and even its feeling felt too forceful for me. “Everything’s fine Az.”

He arched a brow smoothly. “I’m sorry but I find that hard to believe with how much you have been avoiding me the past few weeks. And then I find you up here hiding.”

“It’s just-“ my words failing me again. What could I say? I found it so hard to lie to him. How could I say the truth? Ever since you and Elain have been spending time together these past few weeks I can't stand to be around you because of my angry hateful jealousy?

“It’s just me Az, you didn’t do anything.”

“What’s just you?”

I made a frustrated noise, looking away from him toward's Velaris below. I was afraid the emotions on my face would reveal all. He was always so good at reading me.

“Please Azriel I can’t. Just not know.” I whispered.

“Than when y/n.” he said softly but sternly, “Because I know how good you are at keeping things bottled up and I’m not going to let it go on for any longer.”

“Oh what and your any better?”

He took an annoyed breath in, his chest expanding before letting it out in a rush. “No I’m not, we’re both great at holding things in. But I can’t walk away without knowing a reason why. Did I do something to hurt you? Say something I shouldn’t have? It’s been driving me mad the past few weeks and I can’t let it go. And don’t say it’s nothing, because I know you and somethings happened between us that I can’t understand. Somethings changed the way you look at me and all I can’t chalk it up too, is that you loathe me.”

My heart broke at his words knowing that I had hurt him. I couldn’t stand to know it. Even though it’s what I had preferred in the beginning when I was avoiding him. I had wanted him to think I was angry at him to hide my feelings. Had been happy to hide behind it. But now the shame of that, the cowardice and shame of everything washed over me. All the emotions I had kept bottled up started to raise to the surface and a cry broke from me. I looked away trying to stop it because I couldn’t stand to look at that pleading look on his face.

“I can’t tell you Az because I don’t want to loose you.”

He crossed the distance between us and turned my chin with one hand so I was looking at him again. And didn't let go so I couldn’t look away from those piercing eyes.

“You could never loose me." And I knew he meant it by the stern look on his face. He truly thought there was nothing that could ruin our friendship, but I wasn’t so sure. Even if he did mean it, things would change when I told him and never go back to the way they were. And I knew he meant what he said but I couldn’t hold it to him. Even when you don’t want it to feelings change and I knew that better than anyone.

“Why do you choose Elain?” I blurted.

His brows furrowed, confusion dancing on his features. “What?” 

“Why do you want to be with someone who doesn’t know what she wants?”

He leaned against the railing letting go of my face in shock.

“Love is tricky sometimes, it’s not always perfect.”

“No Az, love is when someone chooses you completely and doesn’t have thoughts of someone else in their head.  You know she is interested in Lucien. Why do that too yourself when there’s someone out there who will choose you? Want you.”

Az’s face turns angry like I’ve never seen before at least not directed at me. His amber eyes near glowing, his jaw set tight.

 “Oh and I suppose you know this from your experience? You have never experienced what it’s like to be in a real relationship how complicated it can be.”

I laugh hatefully. “I never want to experience love if that’s what it is. Pining after someone who doesn’t even respect you to let you go. Driving you mad to the point that you run to your friend every time she hurts you.”

He stood upright again off the railing and took a step toward me until he was looking down at me with those beautiful eyes so close I had to look up. His chest was rising up and down in angry puffs and as he got so close to me I could see the amber hues in his eyes near glowing. His anger was near radiating from him.

His sharp eyes studied me intently, too intently I wanted to look away.  “Where is this coming from, why are you so concerned by Elain’s intentions toward me?”

“I think I have a right as a friend to be concerned.”

“Answer the question.” He growled.   

"I'm in love with you!" I pushed him and he took a step back. I wasn't sure if it was from the shock or the force of my push. "And your in love with Elain and I can't stand it Az. I can't stand to see you two together because I've been in love with you since we met."

I took a big breath in realizing what I was saying. But I couldn't stop the words that I so desperately needed to get out. "and I know you'll never feel the same. And that's ok." My voice broke at the honestly in those last words, but it was like a weight off my shoulders saying it.

The shock on his face was all I saw before I turned away from him heading to the balcony door. I couldn't bare to hear the rejection from him so I ran away like the coward I was.

[blxxmingrose]

as the snow fight reached its height, hans versus june and sunny’s teamwork, he worked double time to fight the attacks that came his way. the snow hitting him square in the chest only fueled him further, unleashing more snow their way as he worked fast. “if you’re her knight, i’m—“ hans paused, thinking of all the fantastical beasts sunny always came up with “—i’m the snow dragon! i make snow blizzards!”

when he said he wanted to make snowmen and be out in the snow, this was exactly what he had in mind. something fun, something that unleashed the loudest laughters and giggles from sunny, something she could hold in her memories forever. he was not sure if things would be as beautiful and perfect as today was, or if he could have brought out this laughter from her by himself, but seeing everything play out like this tugged at his heart, a reassuring warmth that made his every move more animated, more energetic. 

like he had no doubts in the world. 

because here, as they were play fighting each other in the snow, a lot of honest truths were revealed to him. 

he could see how june protected sunny from even the most innocent snowball, how he always made sure she had another snowball in her hands to send hans’ way, and how his eyes looked at her full of warmth and care. hans could see it plain as day, he had already placed sunny center in his life, and there was no hiding how much she meant to him. 

hans already saw how careful he was with her, how attentive when they were at school and even when they had those dinners together, but as time passed, as june’s days became more entangled in theirs, he felt that bond grow. as a father who was the most protective person in sunny’s life, it gave him a sigh of relief knowing that, if something happened—if he couldn’t be there for sunny for whatever reason—june would be there. 

he could trust him. 

and, hans realized, he already did. 

the honesty he saw in june’s movement was echoed by the same honesty in sunny’s clear laughter, in the way she gravitated toward him for protection, for help, for attention. she had carved out a space for him in her heart too, one that didn’t just make him her favorite teacher, but her favorite person. the bond they had was something hans wanted to protect as well. 

he almost felt jealous, having been the only person in sunny’s life for years, but he found he had no problems sharing the spotlight with june if it meant they could have more of this. he could show sunny that there was always room for love in someone’s life, even if it was new, even if it’s still something they were figuring out. 

love… 

he paused mid-toss, snowball in hand, as the word caught him off guard. he caught june’s eye for a second and, feeling self-conscious of where his train of thought had led him, looked away as he threw the ball with less force, letting it land on the rounded snowman to the side, giving it a lump to its perfectly round belly. “now he has a baby!” hans redeemed himself with a laugh, letting the weirdness of the moment dissipate. 

there was time to figure out their feelings later on, but for now, it was this moment that mattered. 

june stood his ground with a crooked grin, arms stretched out slightly like he was shielding a castle wall. he watched hans hurl that snowball, missing him entirely, and didn’t even try to hide the smug little sound he made. “you might have two free hands, but we have four!” he called.

sunny, beside him, beamed like she’d just been knighted. she turned in her boots and tried valiantly to lift a snowball nearly the size of her head. it promptly crumbled in her mittens, and she let out an offended gasp.

june knelt down, helping her re-pack the snow with his hands guiding hers, more gently than he even realized. “there,” he murmured, “just enough to fly and not enough to flatten dad. we want to win, not break him.” she giggled at that, whispering, “okay, mr. june.” like it was a secret plan. she gave the ball a toss — more of a hopeful lob, really — and june whooped when it landed somewhere vaguely close to hans’ boots.

but then came the real danger.

snowflakes rained down on them from hans’ haphazard barrage, clumps breaking apart mid-air and tumbling down like chaos from the sky. sunny squealed, ducking for cover behind june’s side, her laugh spilling out in bursts like it couldn’t help itself.

june didn’t think. he just acted — turning, lifting his arm to shield her from the worst of it, his own back catching most of the mess as he hunched over her. “you alright?” he asked, eyes scanning her beanie-covered head, his voice low and sure even in the thick of battle.

sunny popped her face up, scrunching her nose against the falling flakes. “we need backup!”

“i’ve got you,” june promised, brushing snow off her hood, off her shoulder. “always.”

it came out too easily, that last part. but he meant it. more than maybe even hans realized. because june had spent too many years feeling like he was the temporary one, the extra, the placeholder until someone better came along. and yet here he was, in a snowy backyard, where he was suddenly the shield, the teammate, the person someone reached for without hesitation. and he wasn't going to let go of that.

he turned back toward hans, squinting dramatically. “you’ve declared war on a child and her loyal knight. you’ve left us no choice.”

then, with flair that would make any stage director proud, june spun around and gathered two perfect snowballs. one he tossed up for sunny, guiding her hands with his own. the other he sent flying at hans with precision, smack to the shoulder. “direct hit!” he shouted triumphantly.

when he glanced at sunny, she was glowing. pure joy. her laughter was loud and free, and for just a second, june could imagine it echoing through seasons, through years. through every snow day and every first day of school and every cozy winter night they’d spend together.

he didn’t just want to protect her from snowballs.

he wanted to protect this.

this moment. this family they were starting to become. this silly little memory that might mean nothing to anyone else but would always mean everything to him.

[moonlitstoriess]

Could I request an angst to fluff fic for Cassian? The plot can be whatever you want, I can’t think rn

Make It Right- Cassian x fem!reader oneshot

Summary: On Y/N’s birthday, Cassian forgets the special day, caught up in the chaos of the world around them. Hurt and disappointed, Y/N tries to hide her feelings, but Cassian soon realizes his mistake. What follows is a heartfelt apology, and a love that reminds them both that sometimes, making things right takes more than just words.

A/N: Tomorrow is my birthday, yay!! 🥳 This is a little early birthday post I'm sending your way, hoping that you will enjoy it<3 Thank you for the request anon!

See masterlist

Warnings: Angst at first, cassian being an idiot

Y/N woke with a soft stretch, the warmth of sunlight streaming through the window and brushing her face. Today was the day—her birthday. She had woken up with a fluttering excitement in her chest, a smile already forming as she thought of the plans, the laughter, the quiet moments she might share with Cassian.

Her fingers brushed against the empty side of the bed.

Furrowing her brow, Y/N glanced at the space beside her. Cassian wasn't there, and for a moment, she wondered if he had gotten up early for training. But no, that didn't seem right. It wasn’t like him to leave without a word.

Her gaze wandered to the small table beside the bed, where a piece of parchment caught her eye. Cassian’s familiar handwriting sprawled across it, and her heart fluttered. Maybe he was just up to something… maybe it was a surprise.

With a little smile, she reached for the letter and unfolded it carefully, her eyes scanning the words.

My Love, I’ve gone up to the Illyrian camps for a few hours to speak with the warriors about some new strategies we need to implement. You know how it goes—these things are never quick. But I’ll be back before you know it. I know you’re probably still sleeping, so I’ll let you get your rest and will see you soon. I love you more than words can say. I can’t wait to see you later.

Yours forever, Cassian

Y/N blinked at the letter. There was no mention of her birthday. Not a single word about the day that should’ve meant something special between them. Her heart sank just a little, the fluttering excitement slowly replaced with an unfamiliar heaviness. She sat there for a moment, staring at the letter, wondering if she'd missed something, if she was misreading it.

But no, there it was in black ink—nothing about today.

Sighing quietly, she set the letter back down and ran a hand through her hair. Maybe he had something planned. Maybe he was just working on a surprise. Cassian always had a way of doing things in his own time, in his own way. He wouldn’t forget, right?

It was only a few hours, after all. He’d come back, and they’d spend the day together. Maybe he was just setting up something grand for later. Maybe he was waiting to make the moment perfect.

She took a deep breath, pushing the little pang of disappointment aside. He loves me, she reminded herself. He always does.

With that, Y/N stood, smoothing the wrinkles from her clothes and moving toward the window. She still had hope. Cassian was always full of surprises, and she knew, deep down, that he wouldn’t let today slip by without showing her just how much she meant to him.

Right?

The morning passed in a blur of warm wishes and gentle laughter, but still, Y/N couldn’t shake the nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach. The Inner Circle had been kind—so kind—and she was deeply grateful for their love and friendship. Rhys and Feyre had, without hesitation, invited everyone to the River House for a breakfast celebration in her honor. It was a gesture that spoke volumes, and it made her heart swell with affection. The beauty of their bond—of how they all looked out for one another—was something she cherished deeply.

When she’d arrived at the River House, she was greeted with warm smiles, hugs, and laughter. Nesta, for all her quietness, gave her a genuine hug, and even smiled at her, a rare moment that made Y/N’s chest tighten with appreciation. Amren had actually let out a small compliment—something about Y/N’s hair looking especially “charming today,” which made Y/N laugh.

The table was filled with an array of foods, a spread fit for royalty, and there was an undeniable sense of warmth in the air. Feyre had gone out of her way to make sure everything was perfect—her usual artistic flair evident in the way the food was arranged, the flowers placed just so on the table.

But even as the smiles and laughter surrounded her, as they all joked and ate together, there was an ache within her that refused to fade. She couldn’t help but feel a little hollow without Cassian by her side, his absence growing more pronounced as the day wore on. She couldn’t push the thought from her mind—why hadn’t he been here to wish her a happy birthday? Why wasn’t he here now?

Her eyes kept drifting over to the window, the soft breeze moving the curtains gently as though calling her attention to the world outside. She had expected him to show up at any moment, maybe swooping down from the skies in his usual fashion, grinning like a fool and pulling her into his arms, apologizing for being late with a cocky smirk. But no. He hadn’t come. And worse yet, he hadn’t even checked in through their bond, hadn’t sent even a whisper of a thought to her. It was unlike him, and it stung more than she cared to admit.

She tried to focus on the joy of the moment. She really did. She was surrounded by people who loved her. Her friends, her family—each one of them expressing their joy for her in their own unique ways. Nesta had even offered her a gift, something she’d made herself—woven from fine, shimmering strands of thread—and Y/N had been touched beyond measure. Amren’s usual sharp smile seemed more genuine today, her eyes glinting with something softer than usual. And Feyre, as always, had a way of making her feel special—her quiet words of gratitude and love making Y/N’s heart swell.

Azriel, ever the quiet and observant one, had given her a rare smile when he raised his glass to her. His dark eyes held a warmth that she didn’t often see, his gruff exterior slipping just a little in the presence of the people he cared about. Y/N couldn’t help but feel a sense of comfort from the shadowsinger, his support steady and unspoken, as always.

Elain, with her gentle kindness, had hugged her tightly when they first arrived, speaking softly about how much she admired her strength and how happy she was to be a part of the day. The warm sincerity in Elain’s words had made Y/N’s heart ache—she could always rely on her to brighten any room with her peaceful presence.

And then there was Mor. A force of nature in her own right, the bright, bold smile on Mor’s face never seemed to fade. She’d given Y/N a gift, a beautiful piece of jewelry that shimmered with a kind of magic. Mor’s exuberance was infectious, pulling everyone into her orbit, filling the space with laughter and light. She had gone out of her way to make Y/N feel like a queen today, fussing over every detail and making sure Y/N knew just how much she meant to the entire Court.

Each one of them had done their best to make today feel special. They were all here, surrounding her with love and light, and yet... Cassian’s absence loomed over it all, a shadow she couldn’t shake.

She reached for her glass, taking a sip, but her thoughts kept drifting. Maybe he’ll come back soon. She told herself again and again, trying to quell the disappointment. But the longer she sat there, the more she realized something: He wasn’t here. And he wasn’t even thinking about her. The bond between them was silent. No whispers, no gentle pull on her heart. She kept waiting for a flicker of warmth, some kind of connection—but there was nothing.

She pushed the thoughts aside for a moment when Mor raised her glass, calling everyone’s attention to make another toast in her honor. The cheerful clink of glasses around her made her smile, and she tried to focus on the love and laughter in the room. He’s not here right now, she thought, forcing herself to believe it. But I’m still loved. I am loved.

Azriel’s low voice cut through her thoughts, his words aimed at her but spoken with that quiet intensity only he could manage. “Don’t let today be overshadowed by his absence. You’re not alone, Y/N. We’re all here.”

Y/N met his gaze, his deep, steady eyes holding hers. She felt a little lighter, the weight of her worries lifting just slightly. You’re right, she thought, her heart grateful for his reminder. And yet… her mind couldn’t help but wonder, Why wasn’t Cassian here to remind me himself?

As the morning wore on, the atmosphere in the River House felt warm and alive with chatter, music, and the clinking of glasses. Y/N continued to do her best to push away the dull ache that kept settling in her chest, trying to enjoy the celebration for what it was. It wasn’t as though she didn’t appreciate everything her friends were doing for her. They had all been kind and thoughtful, their efforts unmistakable.

But still, she couldn’t quiet the little voice in the back of her mind. Cassian’s absence. The unanswered questions.

It was when Rhys approached her, a gift in hand, that her thoughts were interrupted. He gave her a knowing smile, his eyes gleaming with that familiar warmth. “Happy birthday, Y/N,” he said softly, offering her the small, beautifully wrapped package.

“Thank you, Rhys,” she replied, her smile sincere as she accepted the gift. She’d always adored Rhys’ sense of humor and his ability to bring light into any room, but today… her mind wasn’t fully there. She carefully unwrapped the present, revealing a small, intricate bracelet—crafted from what appeared to be moonstone, its pale light catching the sunlight in a way that made it shimmer like stars. “It’s beautiful,” she murmured, touched by his thoughtfulness.

Rhys smiled, watching her with a quiet kind of affection. “I thought it might remind you that even when it feels like someone’s missing, you’re still a part of something bigger. The stars will always be there, just like us.”

Y/N’s heart swelled at his words. “Thank you, Rhys.”

He leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping to a softer tone. “I’m sure Cassian is preparing something extraordinary for you today. Don’t let the silence fool you. He’s up to something.”

Hope bloomed in her chest, delicate at first, like a fragile flower testing the air for warmth. “It wasn’t you who sent him to the Illyrian camps, was it?”

Rhys chuckled, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Oh, definitely not. Why would I send him away knowingly on the day of his mate’s birthday?”

Y/N’s pulse quickened. Could it be that there had been a misunderstanding? Had Cassian been caught up in something unexpected? That seemed likely, didn’t it?

Rhys continued, his smile shifting to something more teasing. “He told me that the Illyrian camps had requested him—one of the commanders asked him personally. And I’m sure you know how those requests work. You don’t just say no to an Illyrian commander, especially when they come with an urgent matter. He also told me that he didn’t want Azriel to go since he already has too much on his plate.” Rhys paused, giving her a pointed look. “You know how it is. The more people you have, the more work piles up.”

Y/N nodded, still uncertain but feeling a spark of relief. So it wasn’t Rhys...

“But that’s not the only thing,” Rhys continued, his tone taking on a more knowing edge. “You know as well as I do that when you go up into the camps, you can’t come back before atleast a full day because of all that is going on there. He told me he’d be back by late afternoon. And trust me, he’s never one to be late when it comes to something important. Especially when it involves you. He’ll be here, Y/N. I’m sure of it.”

Y/N’s chest tightened as she processed his words. Cassian wouldn’t miss today. He wouldn’t let me down, not like this...

She looked up at Rhys, who was watching her with an intensity that told her he understood her internal struggle. “I know it’s hard, Y/N. But you have to know this: he’s coming back. I’m sure he’s planning something incredible for you, just like he has every year since you have been mates. It’s just not the way you expected it.”

Her thoughts swirled. I should trust him. I should trust that Cassian loves me enough not to forget today... But her mind kept circling back to the letter. Maybe he really is just caught up in something. Maybe he’s doing everything he can to get back to me.

“Thank you, Rhys,” she whispered, feeling a little lighter. She hoped he was right, hoped that Cassian would return with the grand gesture she was waiting for.

Rhys gave her a wink. “Anytime, Y/N. You deserve all the love in the world. Don’t let today slip by with doubts.”

As Rhys moved back to join the others, Y/N let the words linger in her mind. He’s coming back… he has to be.

But still, a part of her remained uncertain. What if there was more to this than just a simple delay? What if he’s forgotten entirely?

For now, though, she’d wait. She’d trust in the love they shared, in the bond that had always connected them, even when the distance felt unbearable.

As the hours passed, the River House buzzed with life and laughter. Y/N tried her best to keep her smile in place, to enjoy the company of those around her, but it was hard to ignore the absence of the one person she had been waiting for all day.

The birthday breakfast had come and gone, and now the afternoon stretched out before her, warm and full of promise—yet empty without Cassian’s presence. She was surrounded by friends, all of them who cared for her deeply, but somehow, it all felt incomplete.

Azriel and Mor had spent the afternoon lounging outside, talking quietly about their latest missions, their voices low and private. Nesta had wandered off for a while, clearly needing some time alone, but she’d made sure to hug Y/N tightly before slipping away. Feyre had suggested a walk through the gardens, a calm, peaceful escape that allowed them to chat more privately, and Y/N was grateful for the distraction. They’d discussed everything and nothing—how Feyre was adjusting to being a mother, how Y/N had been feeling about the latest changes in the Night Court—but the whole time, her thoughts kept drifting back to the empty space beside her.

Her eyes had lingered on the door, half-expecting to see Cassian come striding through it, his laughter booming in that familiar way, his arms wide to pull her into his embrace. But each time, her hope was met with nothing but the quiet hum of the house.

By the time the afternoon sun began to dip toward evening, Y/N had retreated to a corner of the house, seated in a comfortable chair by the window, looking out at the vast expanse of the world beyond. The river glittered in the fading sunlight, the gentle lapping of the water against the bank providing a quiet soundtrack to her restless thoughts.

She absentmindedly fiddled with the bracelet Rhys had given her, tracing her fingers over the smooth, cool surface. It was a beautiful gift—something she’d treasure forever—but right now, it felt like a reminder of how little she truly had today. She had expected so much more.

She was no stranger to the chaos of Cassian’s life, to the unpredictability of his role as General. She knew that sometimes, his responsibilities pulled him away from her. She’d always understood that. But today… today felt different. Today felt like it should’ve been the day—the one where he set aside everything else to focus on her. To remind her how much she meant to him.

Her thoughts drifted again to that damn letter from the morning. She could still picture the simple words, how they hadn’t even mentioned the significance of the day. Was he really too busy? Was it just bad timing?

A soft, familiar presence appeared at the edge of her thoughts, and she felt the lightest flutter through their bond—a tiny whisper, like a fleeting breath in the back of her mind. It was just a brush, a flicker. But it was enough to make her heart race, enough to make her wonder if perhaps Cassian was finally reaching out.

But no. It was gone almost as quickly as it came.

“Y/N?” Feyre’s voice broke through her reverie, and Y/N turned to find her standing at the edge of the room, watching her with gentle concern in her eyes. “You okay? You’ve been awfully quiet.”

Y/N forced a smile. “Yeah, just thinking.”

Feyre stepped closer, sitting on the edge of the windowsill beside her. “I know it’s hard, waiting for Cassian. But you have to know he’s going to be here soon. He wouldn’t miss today for the world."

Y/N nodded, but the words felt hollow. She appreciated Feyre’s attempt at reassurance, but it didn’t change the emptiness that had settled into her bones.

“I’m sure you’re right,” Y/N murmured, looking down at her hands, where the bracelet rested against her wrist. “I just… I expected more today, you know? More of him. It’s hard not to feel like I’m being forgotten.”

Feyre reached over, gently squeezing Y/N’s hand in hers. “Cassian doesn’t forget. Not about you, not about your worth. I know you know that, deep down. But his responsibilities… they take over sometimes.”

Y/N didn’t say anything, but her heart felt heavy with the truth of Feyre’s words. She knew this. She had always known how demanding Cassian’s work was. Yet, in this moment, none of that seemed to ease the ache in her chest.

They sat in silence for a moment, the quiet of the room thick between them.

“Well, if it’s any consolation,” Feyre said after a beat, “Rhys and I were talking earlier. He’s certain Cassian is planning something spectacular. He wouldn’t let this day go by without making it up to you, I promise.”

Y/N gave a small, shaky smile. “I hope you’re right.”

Feyre patted her hand. “Come on, let’s go join the others. The day’s not over yet, and I’m sure Cassian has something up his sleeve. Just you wait.”

Y/N nodded again, standing with Feyre and following her back toward the main part of the house, though her heart still felt heavy. She tried to lose herself in conversation with the others as they discussed plans for the evening, but every time the door creaked open or a breeze brushed past, her hope flickered once again.

Cassian would come, wouldn’t he?

-----

Cassian stood at the edge of the Illyrian camp, his eyes scanning the horizon, watching as his warriors trained, sparred, and carried out their duties. It was the sort of day he dreaded—endless, relentless, and filled with the tension of an impending conflict that threatened to boil over at any moment.

It had all started about a month ago, when he’d received the urgent message from one of the northern commanders. At the time, Cassian delayed coming over himself, choosing to send his trusted men instead. It was also because the communication had come at the worst possible time—just as he was looking forward to a few days of peace, maybe even a quiet evening with Y/N.

However, everyday the commander had kept asking for Casian himself, being very clear: the camps were on the brink of full-scale warfare, and they needed someone who could keep things in order before the situation got worse. And so, Cassian had packed up quickly, his mind focused only on getting things under control. The sooner he got in, the sooner he could return. He had promised himself that it would only be a few hours—perhaps a day at most. After all, how bad could it be?

But of course, as it always did, the situation had escalated.

In the last month, every plan he’d tried to set in motion had been thwarted by a new complication. A new leader from one of the factions had challenged his authority, a skirmish had broken out on the eastern border, and just when Cassian thought things were settling down, word came that another territory was in dispute.

Now, here he was, surrounded by the sounds of clashing metal and the low hum of warriors calling orders, his hands wrapped tightly around the hilt of his sword as he surveyed the chaos. His mind was elsewhere, though—not with the men around him or the reports he was reading—but with her. Y/N.

He hadn’t forgotten her—he could never forget her. She was always in his thoughts, even now as he stood in the midst of battle preparations. But the more he thought of her, the more his frustration built. Damn it all, he thought to himself, running a hand through his dark hair. He was supposed to be with her, not stuck here in this endless mess. He had no idea how things had gotten so far out of hand, but there was no turning back now.

He’d hoped the day would be simple. He’d figured, a few hours at most, handle the worst of it, and then be back with her. Maybe they could have a quiet dinner, talk about the quiet things. But now, that hope seemed like a distant memory.

His mind drifted back to the report he’d just received. The situation with the northern factions had worsened. They were demanding reinforcements, and not just a few. This was the kind of situation where Cassian’s presence was absolutelynecessary. He couldn’t just leave it to the others; he had to see it through. The men under his command needed him.

But what about her?

A growl rumbled low in his throat, his frustration turning into a simmering rage. Cassian had thought that after a quick intervention, he’d be back to his mate, back to the woman who kept him grounded and whole. But that had been a naive thought, one that now felt like a cruel joke.

“General,” one of his commanders approached, his voice low and serious. “It’s not just the northern borders. We’ve got problems in the southern territories too. The peace talks fell apart. We’ll need to send someone there immediately.”

Cassian gritted his teeth. Three days. At least three days now. What the hell was he supposed to do? There was no way he could leave things in this state—not when things were this precarious.

“Dammit,” he muttered under his breath, pacing away from the group. He couldn’t even bring himself to speak to the commander again; his thoughts were too clouded, his anger too sharp. The worst part? No one here seemed to understand. They were all too focused on the battle, on the logistics of war, to see the way his heart was breaking with every passing second.

Cassian growled under his breath, his frustration boiling over. He had to stay for the next few days. There was no other option.

But Y/N would understand. Right?

----

Y/N did not, in fact, understand.

When she saw Rhys leave and come back with a letter in his hand, his expression serious and slightly sorrowful as he headed straight for Azriel, she knew something was wrong.

Feyre and Elain were beside her, their soft laughter and conversation swirling around like a gentle breeze, but Y/N barely heard any of it. Her eyes were fixed on the two males standing by the doorway, voices hushed but movements tight with frustration. Rhys’ brow was furrowed as he handed the note to Azriel, and Az ran a hand through his hair as he read it, wings twitching slightly behind him.

Her stomach sank.

It was the way Azriel’s jaw clenched. The way Rhys’ hand dropped to his side, fingers curling into a fist. The kind of body language that meant bad news. And neither of them had looked her way.

Feyre nudged her gently, drawing her back. “Y/N? You zoned out for a second there.”

“Oh—sorry,” Y/N murmured, blinking and trying to force a smile. “I’m listening.”

But she wasn’t. Not really. Because now Azriel had started speaking, fast and low, and Rhys wasn’t looking at him—he was looking at her.

That told her everything she needed to know.

She stood slowly, the movement enough to draw the attention of both males. Azriel glanced down at the note in his hand, then up at her, his expression unreadable. Rhys looked like he was preparing himself for something—his lips pressed together, a crease forming between his brows.

Y/N didn’t wait for them to come to her.

She crossed the room silently, her heart pounding louder with each step. She kept her voice steady when she stopped in front of them, even though it felt like her lungs had been replaced by lead.

“What is it?”

Rhys hesitated. Azriel looked to him, clearly unsure if he should speak, but then Rhys sighed quietly and extended the letter to her. “It’s from Cassian.”

She took it with slow fingers. The seal wasn’t the one he usually used for her—no wax in her favorite color, no scribbled heart in the corner like he sometimes added when he was feeling particularly smug or sweet. Just plain parchment, a rushed signature.

Her throat tightened before she even unfolded it.

It wasn’t long. A few brief sentences. A quick explanation. He’d been pulled deeper into the situation than expected. The camps were at each other’s throats. He couldn’t leave—not yet. Not for another few days. I will send news soon. Take care of Y/N for me.

No mention of what today was. Not even a line.

She didn’t realize how tightly her fingers were gripping the paper until Rhys gently reached out, his hand brushing her elbow. “Y/N—”

“It’s fine,” she said quickly, folding the letter with practiced calm. “He’s needed there. I get it.”

Neither Rhys nor Azriel looked convinced.

Feyre and Elain had gone quiet behind her. She could feel their concern, the heaviness in the room like a sudden shift in air pressure.

Y/N took a slow breath and looked out the window, blinking back the sting in her eyes. She had waited. All day. Told herself he was coming. That this wasn’t like him.

And maybe it wasn’t.

But the letter in her hand said otherwise.

Because it didn’t even say happy birthday.

And no matter how many times she told herself that Cassian loved her—that his duties were important, that Illyria needed him—there was a sharp, echoing silence in her chest where he should have been today.

Where his voice should’ve whispered through the bond, where his arms should’ve wrapped around her, where his presence should’ve reminded her that she mattered.

She swallowed tightly and turned away, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I’m tired,” she murmured. “I think I’ll head home.”

“I don’t understand. How could he forget?” Rhys practically growled, pacing in the center of the room now. “Cassian has never—not once—missed her birthday. Every godsdamned year, he’s gone all out. The male made her a sunrise flight over the Sidra last year because she said she liked the color of the sky in the morning—”

“He always remembers,” Azriel cut in, his voice dark and tight with frustration. “He’s never been like this. Not with her.” His shadows curled tighter around his shoulders, restless and tense.

Feyre, standing near the window, arms folded, nodded slowly. “It’s not like him. Something’s not right. And even if he’s overwhelmed, even if Illyria is falling apart, there’s no way he doesn’t know what today is.”

“I’ll go to him,” Azriel said abruptly, already half-turned toward the door, his voice quiet but deadly. “I’ll tell him myself. I’ll show him that fucking letter and—”

“That idiot,” Mor muttered, appearing from the hallway with a sharp look in her golden eyes. “That idiot. She waited all day, Az. He should’ve been here. At least a godsdamned message.”

“I will make him listen,” Azriel continued, shadows snapping around his fists. “I’ll fly to him right now and—”

“Stop.”

Y/N’s voice was quiet, strained—but no one heard her. Or maybe they didn’t listen. The air was thick with indignation, protective fury, confusion.

“Stop,” she said again, a little louder, stepping further into the room. Still nothing.

Rhys was muttering about how he should’ve known, how he should’ve sent someone else to the camps. Feyre was pacing now. Even Elain, sweet Elain, had a worried furrow in her brow.

“Stop!”

The word cracked through the space like thunder.

Everyone froze.

The silence that followed was deafening. Y/N stood in the middle of the room now, chin high, fists clenched at her sides. Her breathing was steady, but the tremble in her fingers betrayed the storm inside her.

“No one,” she said, voice low but unyielding. “No one is going to say a word to him.”

Rhys opened his mouth to protest.

Y/N’s gaze cut to him with sharp precision, a warning that stopped him cold.

“I mean it,” she said firmly, looking at each of them in turn. “He needs to realize this himself. If any of you go running to tell him, if you scold him or guilt him or push him into some half-hearted apology… it won’t mean anything. He has to see it. He has to feel it. Not because you reminded him. Not because someone handed him the truth. Because he looked around, realized something was missing, and knew it was me.”

Azriel stepped forward, his jaw clenched. “Y/N, he loves you. He would never—”

“I know he loves me,” she said, gentler this time. “But love doesn’t excuse neglect. Love doesn’t mean never making mistakes. And I’m not mad that he’s busy. I understand his duty. But today? Today he forgot me. Not just the celebration—me.”

Elain opened her mouth, but closed it again with a sympathetic frown.

Y/N took a slow breath. “Please. It’s my birthday. And this is my wish. That none of you mention this to him. Let him come home on his own. Let him see the damage on his own. Let him fix it on his own.”

The silence returned, heavier now. And then, after a long pause, Rhys finally let out a breath, raking a hand through his hair.

“Very well,” he said quietly. “I will give him a few days to realize his mistake. But.” His violet eyes locked on hers. “There is no way in any world that I am letting you spend your birthday alone.”

Y/N’s lips parted, already forming a protest. “Rhys, really, I—”

“But nothing,” Feyre cut in, already taking Y/N’s hand. “We listened to you. Now you listen to us.”

“We’re your family too,” Elain said softly, stepping up on Y/N’s other side. “And you don’t deserve to sit in silence when there’s still joy to be found today.”

“The others will be back soon,” she added, already moving toward the doors leading to the terrace. “And we are not letting this day end with you hiding in a corner feeling forgotten.”

Before she could argue further, Feyre gave her hand a gentle tug. “Let’s go outside. Breathe. Laugh a little. Even if it’s just for a moment.”

Y/N nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. She wasn’t sure she could laugh—not right now—but the way they looked at her, all of them, she knew they wouldn’t let her fall apart alone.

So she let them lead her toward the open doors and into the golden light of the setting sun, the scent of flowers on the breeze and the soft murmur of the Sidra below.

And even as she smiled for them, even as she tried to be present, there was still that hollow space inside her where he should’ve been.

Where Cassian should have been.

She didn’t even notice the tears at first. They came suddenly, soundless, slipping down her cheeks like they’d always belonged there. She was seated on a bench between Elain and Feyre, hands curled tightly in her lap, when it hit her again.

She didn’t speak. She just cried.

And neither sister said a word. Feyre looped an arm gently around her shoulders, drawing her into the curve of her body while Elain wrapped both hands around hers. They didn’t offer empty reassurances or tell her to cheer up. They didn’t need to. They simply sat with her, and that was enough.

Later, as the garden lights blinked to life and the air cooled, Nesta returned from Valkyrie mission—sharper than usual, but her expression softened the moment she saw Y/N. No questions. No demands. Just a nod of acknowledgment as she took the seat across from her and quietly passed over a little parcel wrapped in silver cloth. A gift she’d made herself—something small, personal, and thoughtful.

Amren appeared not long after, her hair swept back in a polished twist, the edges of her black coat fluttering around her like shadows. She sat beside Nesta with a huff, muttering about “tedious Court matters” and “being dragged into babysitting lesser fae politics,” but even she leaned over to ruffle Y/N’s hair with an uncharacteristically soft, “Happy birthday, girl. Don’t let the bat’s absence ruin it.”

And just when Y/N thought the night was over, Elain insisted they all follow her inside.

There, on the kitchen table, sat a cake.

Beautiful and slightly lopsided, covered in sugared wildflowers and soft frosting that shimmered faintly under the faelight. Elain had made it herself—had spent the past two nights sneaking time in the kitchens, hiding it from even Feyre. “I wanted to do something just for you,” she said shyly, and Y/N had nearly cried all over again

The rest of the day passed like a slow, strange dream.

They dined together after that. A warm, chaotic, makeshift dinner, thrown together by a dozen helping hands. Everyone gathered—those who had come and gone through the day returning for the final hours. They drank and toasted and teased one another with ridiculous, affectionate banter. Rhys told a story from centuries ago involving Cassian and a very unfortunate tree, and even Y/N had laughed until her ribs ached.

There were moments—fleeting ones—where she forgot the ache in her chest. Where the comfort of those around her dulled the sting enough that she could pretend everything was okay.

But only for a moment.

Because the ache always returned. It pulsed behind every laugh, every sip of wine, every flicker of candlelight.

Cassian hadn’t come. He hadn’t sent a message. He hadn’t said happy birthday. He had completely forgotten.

And no matter how kind the others were, how hard they tried to lift her up, his absence sat heavy on her chest like a stone.

Eventually, under Rhys and Feyre’s gentle insistence, she agreed to stay the night. They wouldn’t let her go home alone. Not like this. “Just take the guest room,” Feyre said softly. “Sleep. You don’t have to pretend anymore.”

Y/N agreed.

She closed the door behind her as quietly as she could. The room was warm, cozy, with soft throws and a little vase of fresh flowers on the nightstand—typical Feyre. Thoughtful to the end. She changed into the clothes someone had folded at the foot of the bed, washed her face slowly, and went through the motions of settling in.

She told herself not to cry again.

She had cried enough.

She folded her dirty clothes. Brushed out her hair. Lit a small candle with a flick of faelight. Tidied a nightstand that didn’t even belong to her.

She did everything except lie down.

But eventually, her limbs couldn’t carry her anymore.

Y/N slipped beneath the covers, curled onto her side, and stared out the window. The moon hung low and silver, casting light across the bed in quiet streaks.

And that was when her heart finally gave in.

The tears came again, thick and silent, slipping down her cheeks and into the pillow as she clutched it tighter to her chest. Her throat burned. Her ribs ached. She didn’t sob, didn’t make a sound—but the pain was all-consuming.

How had he forgotten her?

How had the one person who knew her better than anyone not felt how much this would break her?

She thought of his arms. His scent. His laugh. The way he always kissed her temple before bed. The way he used to whisper goodnight into her soul through the bond.

Tonight, there was nothing.

No whisper. No warmth.

Only the sound of her own quiet, broken breathing.

--------

Cassian ran a hand through his hair, muscles aching, exhaustion carved deep into every inch of his body. He hadn’t slept more than a few hours in the past three days—not with the Illyrian warbands breathing fire down each other’s throats. He’d been everywhere. Breaking up fights. Mediating screaming matches. Holding war councils that felt more like babysitting sessions for ancient, prideful warriors who couldn’t see past their own egos.

The tensions weren’t just high—they were explosive.

What had started as a two-camp territorial squabble had now grown into something far more dangerous. Old rivalries, wounded egos, unspoken grudges—everything was bubbling to the surface. Cassian had tried, Gods he had tried, to get ahead of it. But every solution he carved out only gave birth to two more problems. Every ceasefire threatened to collapse under the weight of centuries-old hate.

Still, he pressed on.

He was the General of the Night Court. This was his job. His burden.

And yet…

He had thought about her. Hundreds of times.

Y/N’s smile. Her laugh. The way she scrunched her nose when she read something she disagreed with. The way she always tucked herself into his side like she belonged there—because she did. Her warmth, her scent, the quiet weight of her in his arms every night.

But now, that warmth felt so far away. And worse, she was… closed off.

He had reached for her through the bond multiple times since arriving in the camps. And every time, it was like pressing his hand against a locked door. Her walls were up, impenetrable in a way they hadn’t been since the earliest days of their bond.

That had set something cold and uneasy in his chest.

So, he had reached out to Rhys.

“Is she alright?” he’d asked through their mental link, concern thick in his tone.

Rhys’ response had come slower than usual. Clipped. “She’s fine. She’s staying with us.”

That was it.

No warmth. No elaboration.

Cassian had tried to rationalize it. Maybe Rhys was just busy. Maybe Y/N was tired. Maybe she didn’t want to worry him. But it gnawed at him—sharp and growing. She hadn’t answered any of his letters, either. He’d written three. All of them long, thoughtful—pouring out everything he couldn’t say across the distance. And still… nothing.

He frowned now, standing just outside the camp’s central tent, the icy wind biting at his skin despite the thick armor.

He didn’t understand. What was going on?

What was he missing?

He didn’t have the chance to spiral further—because a voice cut through the wind behind him.

“The Shadowsinger is here.”

Cassian blinked, turning immediately, his brow furrowing. “What?”

The young Illyrian warrior bowed slightly. “He arrived moments ago. He’s waiting for you near the ridge.”

Azriel? Here?

Cassian was already moving, striding across the frostbitten field toward the overlook, confusion swirling in his chest. What in the Mother’s name is Az doing here? He would’ve known if something had gone wrong at the River House. Rhys would’ve said something—surely.

And then he saw him.

Azriel stood with his arms folded, his expression unreadable, shadows curling languidly around his form as he stared out over the mountains.

“Az,” Cassian called as he approached. “What the hell are you doing here? Did Rhys send you?”

Azriel didn’t turn. “I came on my own.”

That wasn’t normal. Not with Azriel.

Cassian stopped a few feet away, arms outstretched in disbelief. “Okay, what is going on? Rhys is cold with me, Y/N’s got her walls up so high I can’t even feel her, and now you show up like death himself—what did I do? Did I commit a fucking massacre and forget about it?”

Azriel’s jaw ticked, but his voice was cool as ice. “You might as well have.”

Cassian’s stomach dropped. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Azriel finally turned to face him, his gaze hard. “You’ve been so wrapped up in this godsdamned chaos that you didn’t even realize what day it was.”

Cassian blinked. “What?”

Azriel shook his head, sighing harshly. “Go back. I’ll take over from here.”

“What—? Why?” Cassian stepped in front of him, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. “Does Rhys need me? Did something happen—?”

Azriel shrugged his hand off with practiced ease, brushing past him without another word.

But as he walked away, his voice drifted over his shoulder.

“Your mate needs you.”

Cassian stilled.

The words hit him like a punch to the ribs.

Y/N.

Something snapped into place—something instinctual, primal. Protective.

His body straightened, his heart roaring in his chest as dread crashed over him like a tidal wave. His wings flared, already preparing to launch him into the skies.

Something had happened.

She was hurting.

And he hadn’t known.

Didn’t feel it.

His mate needed him—and he was not there.

Cassian didn’t waste another second. He turned on his heel, barked a few quick orders to the nearest commander, and took off into the sky, wind slicing around him like blades.

What happened to her?

My wife needs me.

The sky was clear, painted in soft shades of spring blue with faint wisps of clouds drifting lazily across it. The garden smelled like lavender and sun-warmed stone, and a gentle breeze tugged playfully at Y/N’s hair. It was, by all accounts, a beautiful day.

She barely noticed.

Feyre sat beside her on a picnic blanket spread out over the grass, barefoot, a smudge of green paint on her cheek as she carefully filled in the petals of a wildflower on her canvas. She looked peaceful, serene even—and Y/N had tried, Gods she’d tried, to match that energy. To find something resembling calm.

Feyre had said painting would help. That it had always helped her.

A good distraction.

And maybe it was. For the first few minutes, dipping her brush in soft hues, dragging color across blank canvas, she’d managed to escape the haze of disappointment clinging to her.

But the relief never lasted long.

Three days.

It had been three entire days since her birthday. Since that night she’d cried herself to sleep in a guest room that wasn’t hers. Since the cake Elain had made. Since the weight of it all settled into her bones like something permanent.

Cassian still hadn’t realized.

Not even a whisper through the bond, though she wouldn’t have heard it if he had tried—because she hadn’t opened herself to him. Not once. She couldn’t. Not when every second of silence felt like proof that he had simply... forgotten.

She hadn’t even touched his letters. They sat in her nightstand unopened, their presence mocking her more with each day that passed. She told herself that if she read them, it would mean she was ready to forgive him.

And she wasn’t.

A shaky breath escaped her as she dipped her brush again—only to knock over the small pot of blue paint beside her. It spilled onto the grass, soaking into the roots like a spreading bruise.

“Oops,” she mumbled, reaching for a cloth.

Feyre chuckled softly beside her. “That was my favorite shade too.”

Y/N huffed a laugh, but it was empty. “Of course it was.”

Feyre leaned back on her hands, eyes soft. “You’ve been quiet again.”

Y/N kept blotting at the grass. “I’m trying not to ruin your peaceful moment.”

“Y/N…” Feyre’s voice lowered, all teasing gone. “You’re allowed to feel what you’re feeling.”

“I don’t even know what I’m feeling anymore,” she muttered, finally sitting back. “It’s like—I’m angry. I’m sad. I miss him so much it physically hurts, but then I remember he still doesn’t even realize what he’s done and—” She stopped herself, swallowing hard. “It makes everything worse.”

Feyre reached over, brushing a bit of paint off Y/N’s arm. “He’ll figure it out.”

Y/N shook her head slowly. “And what if he doesn’t? What if this is just who he is now?”

Before Feyre could answer, a voice shattered the moment like glass against stone.

“Y/N!”

Y/N’s entire body went rigid.

The brush dropped from her fingers.

That voice. That voice that lived in her soul, in her every memory, every dream—rough and deep and warm like a storm in the distance. She turned slowly, heart thudding so loud she could barely hear anything else.

And there he was.

Cassian.

Striding toward her from the River House doors, wind-blown and armor-clad, broad shoulders moving with frantic urgency. Behind him, Rhysand stood, arms crossed, mouth pressed in a line, expression unreadable. Feyre had frozen beside her, eyes wide.

But Y/N couldn’t stop staring.

Gods, he looked the same and yet... not. Exhausted, eyes bloodshot, hair wind-tangled. But his face—his face lit up the second their eyes met.

Her Cassian, this was her Cassian.

“Y/N,” he breathed again, and then he was in front of her.

Cassian dropped to his knees, his arms wrapping around her tightly, protectively, one hand cradling the back of her head as he pressed his face into her neck.

“Thank the Mother,” he whispered, kissing her cheek, her jaw, her temple. “I thought—I thought something happened to you. I couldn’t feel you, you weren’t answering, and Rhys wouldn’t tell me anything and—”

Y/N was frozen in his arms.

She hadn’t realized how much she missed his scent. His warmth. How much she’d been craving the weight of his embrace, his voice breaking apart with relief.

But then she looked up.

Feyre was staring in wide-eyed shock. Rhys was watching coldly, a muscle ticking in his jaw.

And suddenly the pain returned.

Y/N pushed against Cassian’s chest, slowly at first—then more firmly.

He pulled back, blinking, confusion flickering across his handsome face.

“Y/N?” he said softly, voice catching.

She stood, brushing off her skirt, not daring to meet his eyes.

“Go back to your job, Cassian,” she said, her voice quiet but sharp. “It’s far more important anyway.”

The hurt that flashed across his face nearly undid her.

He turned toward Rhys, clearly seeking answers, but Rhys just shrugged—cool and unapologetic.

Feyre opened her mouth, stepping forward, about to say something—

But Rhys gently nudged her back with a warning look, stopping her mid-breath.

And Y/N didn’t wait.

She pushed past Cassian, her heart hammering, vision blurring as she made her way down the garden path without looking back.

Behind her, she heard Cassian curse softly—and then the sound of footsteps as he ran after her.

“Y/N—” Cassian’s voice rang behind her, hurried footsteps following as she stormed back into the River House.

She didn’t stop.

He cursed behind her—something muffled and sharp as he bumped into a low table near the hallway. She heard the crash of something ceramic hitting the floor.

“Y/N, please—wait, just—talk to me—”

She marched deeper into the house, hands trembling, her vision hazy from the heat of unshed tears. Her name kept falling from his lips like a prayer, desperate and confused. But she wouldn’t stop. Couldn’t.

Not until he caught up and grabbed her arm.

Not harshly. Just enough to pull her to a stop.

“Y/N—”

She spun around, wrenching her arm from his grasp with more force than necessary, her breath ragged as she shouted, “What?”

The hallway echoed with her voice, the sharpness of it slicing through the air like a blade.

Cassian took a step back, blinking at her, stunned. “I—why are you acting like this? What is going on?”

She let out a humorless, choked laugh, folding her arms as her eyes flashed. “Oh, I don’t know, Cassian. Maybe I’m just a little emotional. Maybe I’ve just lost my mind.”

His brow furrowed. “Y/N, don’t—”

“No, you don’t!” she snapped, pointing a finger at his chest. “You don’t get to walk in here after three days like everything’s normal, like you haven’t been ghosting me while I’ve been drowning in confusion and—hurt.”

Cassian’s wings flared, frustration bleeding into his voice. “I haven’t been ghosting you! I’ve been at the camps! I tried reaching you, you had your walls up and Rhys wouldn’t tell me anything and I—Mother above, Y/N! What?!” His voice rose to a thunderous echo, his hands thrown up. “What is it?! Why have you been acting this way?! What the hell has gotten into you?!”

Y/N stared at him, her lip trembling as the words tore out of her like a storm breaking loose.

“IT WAS MY BIRTHDAY!”

The world seemed to stop.

Cassian’s mouth parted, eyes widening as her voice echoed down the hallway. He stood frozen in place—watching her like he didn’t understand what he’d just heard. Like it didn’t make sense.

She saw the realization dawn on his face slowly. The shift in his eyes. The disbelief. The guilt.

Tears streamed down her cheeks, hot and fast, as she went on, her voice shaking with fury and grief.

“It was my birthday, and you left. You forgot. You didn’t send a letter. You didn’t say anything. No note. No kiss. Not even a godsdamned Happy Birthday, Cassian!”

She laughed bitterly, choking on her own tears. “Forget gifts or celebrations. I would’ve taken one sentence through the bond. One single thought. But there was nothing. You left me behind like I was—nothing.”

He opened his mouth, eyes already glossing with tears, but she kept going.

“And I waited,” she hissed, voice cracking. “I waited all day thinking maybe—just maybe—you were going to surprise me. I made excuses for you. Told myself it wasn’t your fault. But it’s been three days. You never realized. You didn’t even remember me.”

Her voice dropped then, just a whisper.

“Do I even mean something to you anymore?”

Cassian’s face crumpled.

“Do you even love me?”

A tear slid down his cheek.

“Y/N…” he whispered, stepping forward, voice raw. “*My love—*of course I love you. Of course I do. You are my everything. My soul is bound to yours—how could I ever stop loving you?”

He ran a trembling hand through his hair, jaw clenching as he cursed himself under his breath. “I’m an idiot. I’m the worst kind of bastard. I should’ve remembered—I should’ve—Mother, I hate myself for this.”

He tried to reach for her again, but she stepped back.

“No,” she said sharply, holding up a trembling hand to stop him. “Don’t. I can’t—not right now.”

“Y/N, please—”

“I think it’s best,” she said, quieter now, broken. “If we stay apart for a while.”

His face twisted. “No, you don’t mean that—”

“I do,” she whispered, shaking her head, more tears falling. “I don’t think I want to see you right now.”

“Just let me explain—”

She turned away.

Cassian took a desperate step toward her, but stopped when she didn’t pause, didn’t look back.

And with one final breathless, shattering beat between them, Y/N climbed the stairs—leaving him standing there, alone in the hallway, heart split wide open.

-------

Cassian sat hunched over on the plush River House couch, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. He didn’t move. He barely breathed. The only thing keeping him grounded was the faint buzz of his own heartbeat in his ears, and the way his eyes were locked on the floor—unblinking, like if he just stared hard enough, he could turn back time.

The silence was tense. Suffocating.

And then—

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Rhys snapped, his voice sharp enough to slice through steel.

Cassian didn’t flinch. He didn’t even lift his head.

Rhys paced in front of him like a caged beast, his power a rolling storm beneath his skin, his violet eyes sparking with fury. “You forgot. You forgot her birthday, Cassian. The one day that’s about her. The one day she deserved your whole world without question—and you gave her silence.”

Cassian remained motionless.

“She cried for hours,” Rhys went on, each word like a dagger. “She didn’t even open your letters. Do you know how fucking heartbroken she had to be, to shut off your bond like that?”

“I tried to reach her,” Cassian rasped.

Rhys didn’t let up. “Not hard enough.”

Feyre, from where she stood leaning against the wall, arms crossed tightly over her chest, said quietly, “Rhys…”

But Rhys was too far gone.

“She waited for you. Defended you. Hoped. While we all sat there trying to keep her smiling, trying to fill the space you left behind.”

“I should have gone to the camps myself,” he seethed, starting to pace again. “Azriel shouldn’t be there, either. I’m the High Lord. I should’ve handled it. Godsdammit, I should have known this would happen. I knew something was off with her and I—”

“She didn’t want you to know,” Feyre cut in gently, but even she sounded like the weight of it was pressing too heavy.

Cassian still hadn’t moved.

Not until, in a hoarse, barely audible whisper, he said, “I hate myself.”

That stopped everything.

Rhys stilled. Feyre’s breath caught. The room went deathly quiet.

Cassian slowly lifted his head, eyes glassy but burning. His voice was louder now, rough with barely restrained emotion. “I hate myself for what I’ve done to her.”

His fingers curled into fists against his knees.

“I keep thinking about her face,” he growled. “When she turned around and shouted at me. When she looked at me like I was a stranger. Like I didn’t even know her anymore.”

He looked up at them, jaw clenched so tight it trembled. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Rhys’s face was unreadable. “She didn’t allow us to,” he said quietly. “She wanted you to realize it yourself. Said it had to be you.”

Cassian let out a low, agonized sound and collapsed back into the couch, throwing his head against the cushions and staring up at the ceiling like it held answers. “Of course she did,” he muttered. “Because she’s better than me. Because she deserved someone who would’ve remembered without being told.”

Feyre crossed the room and gently sat beside him, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Cassian,” she said softly, “you messed up. But this… this doesn’t have to be the end of everything. She’s hurt, yes. But she’s still your mate. You can fix this—but not with words. Not with apologies. With actions.”

Rhys added from the corner, his voice calm but firm now, “Sitting here sulking won’t do you any good. The damage is done. The only question now is: what are you going to do about it?”

Cassian sat up slowly, his chest rising and falling with a deep, steadying breath. His eyes still glistened—but now, there was something steely behind them. Something solid.

“You’re right,” he said, voice low, determined.

He stood, cracking his knuckles, the gears in his mind already turning.

“I’m going to prove to her just how much I love her. I’m going to make this right, no matter how long it takes. I’ll grovel. I’ll bleed for her. I’ll get on my fucking knees if that’s what she wants.”

He looked between them, eyes fierce.

She’s my mate. My heart. My everything. And I will not lose her over this. Not without fighting like hell for her.

And as he stormed out of the room, the weight of his promise followed him like wings in flight.

--------

The moment Y/N had turned her back on him, the realization hit Cassian with the force of a war hammer. The words she’d thrown at him — the tear-filled accusations — echoed in his mind. It wasn’t just her birthday that he’d missed, but the very core of their bond. The trust that had always been between them, the connection that held them together, had been shattered.

For hours, he sat in the silence of the House of Wind, a pit of guilt consuming him. The only thing he could do was write.

The first letter was simple.

“Y/N, I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I didn’t deserve the trust you gave me, and I failed you. I’ve failed us both. I hope, one day, you’ll let me try again. Yours, always, Cassian”

He left it at her door with a small gift--a basket of her favourite flowers--, knowing she wouldn’t open it, but hoping the gesture would be enough. He left, retreating to the gardens to stand in the silence, his thoughts only of her.

Every morning after that, Cassian woke up before the sun, writing a letter. And then, as he left it at her door, he went back to his watch over the House, always close, but never too close. Each letter was more desperate, more vulnerable than the last, with a gift beside it.

“Y/N, Do you remember when we first met? I was a fool. I didn’t know then that it was you who would change everything. I didn’t know that one day, I would come to love you in a way I never thought possible. But I should have remembered you — every day, always. And I failed you. Please, don’t shut me out forever. I’ll wait for as long as it takes. With all the love I have, Cassian”

The gift next to this letter was a set of the books she wanted to buy for a while.

And the next.

��Y/N, I remember your laugh — it was always the highlight of my day. Every time I heard it, I thought I had everything I ever needed. But that laugh is silenced now, and I know it’s because of me. I’m sorry. I’ll keep saying it until you’re tired of hearing it. But I will keep saying it. Yours, in regret, Cassian”

The gift was an exciting array of her favourite sweets from the bakery nearby.

But still, nothing. Not even a glance in his direction. He kept his distance, his heart heavier each day, knowing that he had done this to himself.

A week had passed since Y/N’s birthday. The house was quiet, the laughter from before now distant and hollow. Cassian had spent every minute of those days trying to find a way to fix this, to make it right.

But he knew what he had to do.

The night before, he worked — with the help of Elain for the food, Feyre for the decorations, and Amren for the music — to set up the garden. He had been there before, countless times, but this time it felt different. The air, the atmosphere, the quiet, heavy regret weighing down his every step.

It wasn’t perfect. The cake was a little lopsided, the candles not quite the right height, the wine too sweet, but it was the effort he’d put into it.

Cassian stood under the arch of flowers, staring out into the empty garden, waiting for Y/N.

And he waited.

But she never came.

Well, that was expected. Time to grovel some more.

Each day, he wrote more. His words were no longer just apologies, but reflections of the bond he had with her, a bond he could never again take for granted.

The next letter arrived, tucked neatly under her door.

“Y/N, I thought I knew what love was before I met you. I thought it was strength, something built on the battlefield. But love with you — it’s quiet moments, tender glances, it’s all the things I never knew I needed. I won’t ever stop fighting for you. Not until you know just how much you mean to me. Cassian”

the gift beside the letter was a beautiful ruby glass heart container that stored a small vial of perfume, infused with the essence of the lavender blooms from the cliffs of Velaris — a scent that reminded him of Y/N’s laughter, the way her presence filled any room with warmth and joy.

The days dragged on as Cassian poured every ounce of his focus into making up for his mistakes. Each day, he sat in his favorite spot by the window, gazing out at the skies, thinking about the next moment he could make it right. He knew he couldn’t fix the damage he’d done with mere words — it would take action, sincerity, and time.

On the sixth day since the argument, Cassian finally gathered the courage to present the gift he had so carefully crafted. It had been almost impossible to get any sleep these past few days, his guilt and love driving him to the brink. He had even considered getting down on his knees to beg for forgiveness, but he knew it wasn’t enough to simply ask for her love — he had to show her.

Cassian stood in the heart of Velaris' gardens, a place where he and Y/N had spent so many peaceful moments together—under the sprawling canopy of ancient trees, surrounded by blooming flowers that burst with vibrant colors. He had chosen this spot on purpose. He knew that their love had always been nurtured here, where the earth seemed to echo the beauty of their bond, and the breeze carried whispers of memories.

He hadn’t expected her to come. After everything that had happened, he had resigned himself to the idea that Y/N might never forgive him. The ache in his chest was unbearable as he stared at the perfect arrangement he had created—a table set for two, draped with a soft, silk cloth that shimmered in the light of the setting sun. Candles flickered in delicate holders, casting a warm glow, while the scent of jasmine and lavender filled the air—flowers Y/N had once told him reminded her of serenity.

He wasn’t sure if she would ever forgive him, but he had to try. He had to show her that he had learned. That he was worthy of her love.

The gift he had chosen for her sat at the center of the table on a velvet cloth, a small, intricately carved box.

Inside it lay something special: a silver locket. A locket that held a tiny, hand-painted picture of Y/N, done in beautiful detail, her smile captured perfectly by the artist who had worked tirelessly to get every little detail right. The locket was attached to a delicate silver chain, with intricate swirls of magic carved into the edges. Inside, it also held a piece of stardust—a glowing reminder of their bond, a symbol of the magic that connected them, no matter how far apart they might be.

The locket was something personal, something Cassian knew would mean the world to her. He hoped she could see it as more than just a gift, but as a promise—of his love, his regret, and his dedication to never again make her feel forgotten.

He wasn’t sure if she’d come. The hours passed, the sun beginning to set, casting everything in a golden light that felt both beautiful and heavy with the weight of his regrets.

But then, just as he had almost resigned himself to the fact that she might never return, the soft sound of footsteps echoed through the garden.

Cassian’s breath caught in his throat. He turned around slowly, his heart pounding as he saw Y/N standing in the entrance, her eyes cautious but filled with something he could not yet name. She wore a soft, flowing gown that shimmered in the fading light. The sight of her took his breath away, but the sadness in her eyes made it impossible to smile.

She stood there, frozen for a long moment, her gaze lingering on the table and the gift. Cassian felt his chest tighten. Was she here to yell at him again? To push him away? Or was there a chance, a small hope, that she might forgive him?

"Y/N..." His voice was a low rasp as he took a step toward her, his heart beating painfully fast.

She still didn’t move, her eyes fixed on the gift and the flowers. The moment stretched, the silence heavy and filled with everything unspoken.

“Cassian,” she whispered, her voice so small, so unsure.

Cassian stepped closer, as if compelled by an invisible force, his arms trembling as he slowly reached for the small velvet box, his heart in his throat. He placed it in her hands, his voice barely a whisper. “I know I’ve hurt you… and I can never take that back. But this is for you. To show you how much you mean to me. Please, Y/N. Please just let me try.”

Y/N stared at the box in her hands for a moment, the tension between them palpable, before she carefully opened it, revealing the silver locket inside. Her breath caught, and Cassian watched the flicker of emotion pass across her face—surprise, confusion, and something softer that made him ache.

He’d prepared himself for rejection, for anger, but the quiet sorrow in her eyes cut deeper than any of that.

She gently ran her fingers over the locket, her touch reverent, as if she was trying to make sense of it. The garden around them seemed to hold its breath in that moment, the flowers swaying in the soft breeze as if waiting for her words.

“Cassian…” Her voice was a mere whisper, fragile like glass, and it sent a ripple of pain through his chest. He watched her carefully, wanting to hold her, but knowing she wasn’t ready for that yet.

“I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to fix this. I…” He trailed off, his own words failing him. What could he say to make her understand the depth of his regret? The weight of the mistakes he had made? “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone in my life. And I—I know I’ve failed you. I’ve hurt you in a way I never should have. But please, just know that I would never, ever do it again especially not knowingly. I would burn the world down for you, Y/N.”

Her eyes flickered with emotion, her lips trembling as she finally looked up from the locket, meeting his gaze. “I know you love me, Cassian.” The words were quiet, but they were enough to shatter some of the walls around his heart. “I know you do. But love isn’t just in the words. It’s in the actions. It’s in showing up when it matters the most. And when you didn’t even think of me on my birthday—when you didn’t even check in—I felt... invisible. Forgotten. Like I didn’t matter to you.”

The pain in her voice stung, and he took a step closer, his own voice strained as he spoke. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I wish I could take it back. I wish I could have been there for you. But I didn’t—”

“No.” She shook her head, cutting him off. “It wasn’t just that you weren’t there. It was that you didn’t even remember. It wasn’t about the gifts or the gestures. It was about you—the one person I thought would never forget, never let me feel alone.” She swallowed hard, her eyes beginning to shimmer with unshed tears. “I needed you. And you weren’t there.”

The words were a dagger to his chest, and he couldn’t breathe for a moment. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness, I know that. But Y/N… I’m here now. And I’ll spend every single day making up for it. You mean the world to me. I’m nothing without you. You’re my heart. My mate. My everything.”

Her gaze softened, but the hurt was still there, lingering like a shadow between them. She took a deep breath, her fingers tightening around the locket as she held it close to her heart. “I was so angry, Cassian. I didn’t even know if I could forgive you. I couldn’t understand how you could forget me like that. But...” She paused, her breath shaky as she wiped away a tear. “But I love you. And I can’t just hold on to that anger. I don’t want to. I want to forgive you. I need to forgive you.”

Cassian’s breath caught in his throat. “Y/N… you mean it?”

She nodded, her tears now falling freely as she took a step closer to him, her voice soft but unwavering. “I mean it. You’re my mate, Cassian. And I know we’ve been through worse. I can’t lose you over this.”

Before he could say anything more, she closed the distance between them, throwing her arms around his neck and burying her face into his chest. Cassian’s arms instinctively wrapped around her, pulling her close as if he never wanted to let go. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling the familiar scent of her, the feel of her against him filling the empty space in his soul.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m sorry for making you feel like that. I never want to hurt you again. You’re everything to me.”

Y/N pulled back slightly, her eyes still glistening with tears, but the softness in her gaze was undeniable. “Don’t do that again. Please.” She punched him lightly in the chest, her laugh shaky but genuine. “Don’t you dare forget me like that again. Not on something so important.”

Cassian chuckled softly, the sound like music to his ears after the storm they had just weathered. “I swear to you, I’ll never forget again. You’re my heart, Y/N. And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that to you.”

She smirked, shaking her head. “Better. Now, let’s sit down and eat. I’m starving.”

Cassian grinned and, with a gentle but firm hand on her back, guided her to the table he had prepared. The soft flicker of candlelight illuminated their faces as they sat down together, the world around them quiet and peaceful. The only sounds were the soft crackle of the candles, the rustling of the leaves in the breeze, and the occasional clink of silverware.

He smiled at her, that same playful grin she loved so much, and poured her a glass of wine. “You sure you’re not just hungry for an excuse to avoid the subject of my deeply regrettable failure?” He teased, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips. “Maybe. But you’re lucky I love you, idiot.” She picked up her glass, clinking it gently against his. “To us, Cassian. To love. To second chances.”

“To second chances,” he echoed, his heart lighter than it had been in days. He leaned forward, brushing a soft kiss against her lips before pulling back and saying softly, “I’ll spend my entire life proving to you that I’m worthy of the love you’ve given me. I promise.”

They spent the evening together in the garden, talking, laughing, and simply being with each other. The night was soft and full of promise, and though the pain of the past few days still lingered in the corners of their minds, it was no longer all-consuming. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Cassian felt peace settle in his heart. He had his mate back. And that was all that mattered.

As the stars twinkled overhead, Cassian knew one thing for certain: he would never let her down again.

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

[inseobts]

Hiii! Can i req an ace x f!reader where he looks all over for her like he did with BB not bc she's a traitor but bc she left the crew w/o letting anyone besides WB know (WB ain't snitching lol). She has her own problems in life but the ultimate reason for leaving was bc of self loathing issues under the tough mask and thought the love was unrequited after seeing ace with cuter girls, and that she didn't need another problem. It was onesided, but ace became aware of his own feelings after she left. He finds her as a strawhat but reader and zoro are alrdy a power couple... or so he thought ;D tysm i genuinely LOVE your works btw!!! <3

Embers Left Behind

portgas d. ace x reader

a/n: aaah I always love a really good angst with fluff!! thank you aw

words count: 5.9k

tags: angst, heartbreak, slow burn, emotional tension, sfw

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

The Moby Dick rocks gently with the waves, but the stillness on board is anything but peaceful.

“Ace...”

Marco’s voice is low, but firm, almost warning in his tone.

Ace doesn’t stop pacing “Don’t start.”

“You’ve already asked him three times.”

“I’ll ask him thirty!” Ace snaps, spinning on his heel. His fists are clenched so tightly his nails dig into his palms “She wouldn’t just vanish like that. Not without saying anything.”

“She did.” Marco says, voice quiet but steady “That was her choice.”

Ace whirls, fire licking up his arms now “She told Pops and not us? Not even me?”

Marco looks away “Yeah. That’s what she actually did.”

Ace’s breath hitches. That admission stings more than he’ll let show.

He storms toward the upper deck, where Whitebeard sits in his massive chair, the sea breeze tugging at his long white hair like it respects him too much to tangle it.

“Old man.” Ace’s voice is tight. Controlled. Barely.

Whitebeard doesn’t turn “Still angry?”

“Still confused.” Ace steps closer “Why her? Why’d she tell you and not the rest of us?”

“She asked for a promise.” Whitebeard’s voice is steady as a mountain “And I gave it.”

Ace’s fire dims slightly “A promise to keep her location a secret?”

“To let her go. Without questions. Without trails.”

“Bullshit...” Ace mutters, hurt flashing in his voice “She didn’t even say goodbye.”

Whitebeard finally turns his gaze down to him “You think that didn’t hurt her too?”

Ace swallows hard. But he doesn’t respond.

Later, in the infirmary, Marco sits with a bottle between his legs, flipping the cap off with a lazy flick of his thumb.

“She left her favourite coat” he says.

Ace looks up, surprised “What?”

Marco nods toward the corner of the room where a familiar coat hangs limply on the wall, untouched “She probably forgot it in the rush of leaving.”

Ace stands slowly, walking over to it. He stares at it like it’s a corpse.

“She was hurting.” Marco doesn’t say it as a defense, just as the truth.

Ace turns toward him, brows drawn together “We’re family. She could’ve told us.”

“Maybe that’s exactly why she couldn’t.”

The crew feels the void she left, even in little things like someone instinctively calling her name during morning drills, or setting aside a plate during dinner out of habit. Thatch stops laughing as loudly. Vista sharpens his swords in silence.

And Ace? He doesn’t sleep. Not really.

He stares at the stars, thinking about every conversation you ever had, what he missed, what you were hiding, what he didn’t say.

The coat’s been hanging there for weeks. No one moves it. No one touches it. It just stays exactly where you left it, draped over the hook in the infirmary corner like it’s waiting for you to come back and grab it.

Ace stares at it again that morning.

Marco walks in, holding coffee, and stops when he sees him.

“You really gonna keep standing there, or you gonna wear it yourself?”

Ace shoots him a glare “It’s hers.”

Marco sips, watching him over the rim of his mug “Yeah. We know.”

He doesn’t make a scene about it. Just one quiet morning, a little after breakfast, he shows up on deck with a pack slung over his shoulder and your coat folded neatly in his arms.

Whitebeard watches from his throne, silent.

“Going somewhere, Ace?” Izo asks, already knowing.

Ace doesn’t look at anyone as he answers, “She forgot her coat.”

A few of the guys glance at each other. That’s the excuse? Seriously?

Haruta tilts her head “You’re gonna cross the Grand Line to return a coat?”

Ace shrugs “She loved this coat. Said she couldn’t live without it.”

It’s half a lie. Maybe less. But no one calls him out.

“You gonna tell Pops?” Vista asks.

Ace glances toward the upper deck. Whitebeard’s already looking at him. They lock eyes for a second. Whitebeard doesn’t nod. Doesn’t shake his head. Just… lets him go.

“Guess you don’t need to” Vista mutters with a smirk.

Marco sighs and tosses him an extra log pose “You’ll need this more than your pride.”

Ace catches it, barely looking “Appreciate it.”

“You gonna say what we all know?” Marco asks, voice level “That it’s not about the coat?”

Ace’s jaw tightens “No.”

Marco smirks faintly “Thought so.”

As Ace walks toward the edge of the ship, Thatch calls after him, voice light but sad around the edges “Tell her she still owes me a drink!”

“And that we miss her!” Haruta adds.

Ace doesn’t turn around, but he lifts a hand in acknowledgment.

“Tell her yourself when I find her...” he says.

And then, he’s gone.

Months passed and the sun’s dipping low when Ace finds the black sails of the Thousand Sunny sway gently at the harbor’s edge, golden light flickering across the lion-shaped prow like it’s grinning at him.

He hadn’t meant to stumble across them like this. He was chasing rumors, not names. But seeing that Straw Hat Jolly Roger gave him a reason to take a break.

“So you’re just crashing dinner?” Luffy grins, already halfway through a plate of meat.

“Not my fault I showed up right when Sanji was cooking” Ace says casually, plopping down on the deck’s edge.

The table’s full. Sanji’s setting down plates faster than they can be emptied. Nami’s sipping something citrusy, Robin’s got a book open next to her rice, and Usopp’s already knee-deep in some tall tale about a sea king. Brook plays a soft melody in the background.

“Man, I forgot how chaotic you all are” Ace laughs.

Franky flexes “SUPER chaotic!”

Chopper beams “I’m glad you stopped by!”

“Didn’t expect to find you guys here, honestly” Ace admits, glancing around “I was just passing through.”

Nami quirks an eyebrow “Passing through where, exactly?”

He shrugs “Everywhere.”

They don’t press. They know that kind of tone.

Luffy’s already asking about Whitebeard, and Ace answers between bites.

Then footsteps. Two sets. Light and even. The sound of a low laugh, a deeper voice beside it.

“—I’m just saying, if you let me sharpen your swords while drunk, it’s a disaster waiting to happen, you can't blame me after...” your voice rings out, smooth and easy.

“I didn’t really give you permission, stop lying.” Zoro answers, tone relaxed in a way that makes Ace’s stomach turn.

You step into the room first, head turned toward him, smiling “You did! You said that I—”

And then your eyes land on the table.

On him.

And everything stops.

Ace freezes with a piece of meat halfway to his mouth, hand still in the air.

You don’t breathe.

Neither does he.

Your gaze locked with his.

“Ace...” you whisper.

He stands up so suddenly his chair scrapes across the floor.

“You’re—” His voice cracks. He swallows “You’re here?”

Zoro’s already watching you. He sees the change in your expression, the sudden tightness in your grip, the way your breath hitches.

Sanji mutters, “Ohhh shit.”

You take a slow step forward, like you’re not sure if he’s real “What are you doing here?”

Ace doesn’t answer immediately. His eyes scanning you, your hair, clothes, the faint scar on your knuckle that wasn’t there before. You’re different. Still you. But heavier, somehow. Guarded.

He lifts something from the table.

Your old coat.

You hadn’t even noticed it until now.

“You forgot this” he says quietly.

And just like that, every wall you built inside your chest starts to splinter.

You stare at it “You came all this way for that?”

Ace’s smile is small. Not cocky. Not smug. Just… tired “Couldn’t sleep with it staring at me every day.”

The table is dead quiet now. Everyone’s eyes on the two of you.

You glance at Zoro. He’s watching Ace now. Calm. Unmoving.

Ace notices.

Something flickers in his eyes “Didn’t know you were a Straw Hat now.”

You steady your voice “I wasn't planning on staying with them at first, so I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

He hesitates “Yeah. Same.”

You don’t know what else to say. Neither does he. But damn it, the tension’s louder than the silence.

Dinner resumes... Kind of.

People try to keep it normal. Conversations start up again, tentative at first, then flowing a little easier. Luffy dives back into his mountain of food, thankfully oblivious. Usopp’s telling Brook about a “totally real” fight he had with a sea serpent, and Chopper’s wide-eyed and hanging on every word.

But at one end of the table, you sit next to Zoro, posture stiff.

Across from you, Ace is watching.

You can feel his gaze on your skin like sunburn. Every time you smile or laugh at something Zoro says. Every time Zoro nudges your shoulder casually. Every time you try to look like everything’s fine.

You’re not fooling anyone. Least of all Ace.

“Here,” Zoro says suddenly, shoving a cup toward you “You look like you need this.”

You blink “Sake already?”

He shrugs “It’s dinner. And you look like you’re about to jump overboard.”

You snort under your breath “Thanks.”

You drink. So does Ace.

And then again Sanji pours a fresh cup for him, glancing sideways “You alright there?”

Ace leans back with a grin that doesn’t touch his eyes “Peachy.”

He knocks back another drink.

You try not to look at him, but it’s like your eyes betray you every five seconds.

Zoro strangely keeps talking. Trying. He keeps you grounded when your thoughts threaten to drift into the fire sitting across the table.

But the alcohol is catching up to Ace.

His words get looser. His stare, more obvious.

“So,” he says after his third or fifth cup “How long’s that been a thing?”

Your head snaps up “What?”

Ace nods lazily toward you and Zoro “You and him. The whole… power couple thing.”

Zoro’s hand pauses around his cup “Didn’t know that was a thing.”

Ace shrugs, leaning an elbow on the table “Oh, it’s not. But I saw how you looked at her. Pretty sure I’ve seen animals less possessive.”

You set your cup down, jaw tight “Ace.”

“What?” he asks, eyes wide in mock innocence “We’re just catching up, right? Friends talk about relationships. Or is that off-limits too?”

Sanji clears his throat “Maybe you should pace yourself, Fire Fist.”

“Oh, I’m pacing,” Ace says, slouching back “Just catching up on a year of silence and disappearing acts.”

Your stomach drops.

Zoro glances at you but says nothing.

You speak slowly “This isn’t the place.”

Ace huffs a laugh “Yeah, no kidding. Because the place for it was back then, right? When you could’ve said something. Anything.”

Robin gently closes her book.

Nami’s eyes flicker between the two of you.

“I didn’t think I owed you an explanation” you snap, sharper than intended.

Ace leans forward, finally letting that bitter smile crack through “No, you didn’t. But damn, it would’ve been nice to get something other than your coat and full silence.”

Zoro moves slightly, like he’s ready to shut it down, but your face makes him understand he has to stop.

Everyone’s watching now, and you feel like you’re under a spotlight.

Ace shakes his head, laughing dryly “Hell, maybe I was the only idiot who thought it meant something.”

Your breath catches.

The words are out.

And for a moment, no one knows what to say. Not even him.

The dinner table clears awkwardly.

No one says anything outright, but it’s obvious they’re trying to give you space.

Luffy yawns exaggeratedly and says, “Wow, I’m full. So full. Gonna go sleep. Right now. So full.”

“Goodnight!” Chopper squeaks, tugging Usopp by the sleeve.

Even Sanji backs off, flicking his lighter once before disappearing into the galley.

That leaves just you, Ace and Zoro, standing up slowly, watching Ace with unreadable eyes.

“You gonna be alright?” Zoro asks, voice low.

You nod “Yeah.”

Zoro looks at you for a bit longer, then gives a short nod and walks away, leaving you with Ace’s stare burning holes in your side.

The silence stretches.

You finally break it “That was unnecessary.”

Ace doesn’t flinch “Which part? The part where you never said goodbye, or the part where you show up on a new ship with a boyfriend like none of us meant anything to you? Couldn't you just tell us you were leaving for love?”

Your jaw tightens “Zoro is my friend.”

He snorts “Could’ve fooled me.”

You look him dead in the eye “It’s not like that. It never was.”

The silence that follows is heavier than anything he said during dinner.

“…Oh.”

His voice is smaller now. Less fire, more ash.

You exhale “You seriously thought I left because of him?”

Ace’s fingers run through his hair “No. I don’t know. I thought—maybe—I don’t know, okay? You just vanished. You left without a damn word. I woke up, and you were gone. And now I found you here...”

Your breath hitches, but you stay rooted.

“I told Whitebeard to not worry you all too much” you say quietly.

“Only him...” Ace snaps, stepping closer now “Why? What was so bad you couldn’t even say goodbye to me?”

You blink fast, but your voice stays even “Because if I saw your face, I wouldn’t have been able to do it! It's not that hard to understand, Ace.”

Ace’s whole body stills.

You go on, voice low and raw “I didn’t leave because I hated the crew. Or you. I left because I hated me. I was tired of pretending I wasn’t falling apart inside. Tired of pretending I didn’t feel anything, especially around you.”

Ace doesn’t move. Doesn’t breathe.

You shake your head “You didn’t need someone like me stuck in your shadow.”

“That’s not—” he starts, but you hold up a hand.

“I didn’t want to be another problem you had to solve.”

Silence again.

Then, slowly he says “You were never a problem.”

You glance up.

His eyes are different now. Not angry. Not jealous. Just… aching.

“You were a storm I wanted to chase,” he murmurs “but then you were just gone.”

Your chest tightens.

“You never said anything either” you whisper.

He laughs bitterly “Guess we both suck at this.”

Your heart pounding “So what now?”

Ace shrugs, but there’s no fire in it this time. Just quiet, open hurt “You tell me.”

Ace’s words hang in the air like smoke from a dying fire. You stare at him, heart tight and hammering. Part of you wants to move, say something, anything, but your feet won’t cooperate.

“You think I had some kind of perfect answer?” he says, voice cracking just slightly “You weren’t the only one pretending nothing hurt.”

Your brows knit “Then why didn’t you say anything?”

He steps closer.

“Because I didn’t know I could!” he bursts out “Because you always looked so strong. Always sharp. Looked like you never needed anyone, least of all me.”

You flinch. He sees it. Regrets it instantly.

“I didn’t mean—”

“No,” you cut him off, voice thick “You’re right. I made it look easy. I wore the mask. I made you all believe I was fine when I wasn’t. I guess it's normal you thought so if that was my plan to start with.”

Your eyes burn, but you keep going.

“You know what I remember, Ace? Nights on the Moby Dick where I stared at the ceiling wondering why I felt like I didn’t deserve to be there. Why I wasn’t enough. Why I could throw myself into battle for my crew and still feel like a fraud every time someone looked at me with respect.”

Ace’s breath catches “You were never a fraud.”

You laugh bitterly “I know that's a family, I love them all... but sometimes I felt like a fraud.”

The pain in your chest rises, sharp and breathless.

“But you...” your voice breaks, “you were the biggest thing I couldn’t handle. Not when I saw how easy it was for you to smile at someone else. Someone better.”

Ace’s eyes widen “Better?! What the hell are you talking about?”

You take a shaky breath “All these girls. The flirting. The way you lit up when you were with them. I saw it all. And I told myself... of course he doesn’t want you. Why would he?”

There’s silence. Only the sea, and your heart breaking against the rail of the Sunny.

Ace looks like someone just punched the air out of his lungs.

“That’s what you thought?” he whispers.

You nod, lips trembling “I left because it hurt to love you.”

The words hang there. Raw. Bleeding.

“You left,” he says slowly, “and took everything with you without even trying.”

Your throat closes.

Ace’s jaw clenches.

“I would’ve chosen you,” he says quietly “Every single time, if you gave me the chance.”

"But you can't blame me for being oblivious... You were always with some new girl, how could I even think I had a chance"

"I know. But you also knew I would have chosen you over some strangers, I wouldn't want to hurt you at all. If you gave me a change I would have put the whole world aside for you, Y/N."

You don’t know whether to cry or scream. So you laugh... a single, broken sound “And now it’s too late, right?”

“I don’t know” he says honestly “You tell me.”

His eyes are locked on yours, and he steps closer.

You don’t move away.

His hand hovers, hesitates, like he wants to touch your face, your shoulder, your hand, something, anything, but doesn’t know if he has the right anymore.

Your breath catches in your throat.

“Ace…”

And then—BANG. The galley door slams open.

“Yo, have either of you seen—oh.”

Luffy. Of course it’s Luffy.

He stops in the doorway, blinking wide, oblivious to the emotional minefield he’s just barged into “Uh. Am I interrupting?”

You jerk back instinctively. Ace steps away too, fast.

“No!” you say too quickly “No, you’re good.”

Ace turns away, face unreadable now. Mask back on, smooth and practiced.

Luffy glances between you two “You guys look weird.”

Neither of you responds.

He scratches the back of his head “Anyway, Robin and Nami are looking for you,” he tells you. “Something about maps and weird island currents.”

You nod, voice tight “Got it. I’ll be right there.”

Luffy eyes Ace for another second, then shrugs and leaves just as fast as he came, door clicking shut behind him.

Silence falls again but it’s different now. The moment is shattered, scattered like glass.

Ace doesn’t look at you.

You speak first, voice barely above a whisper “Ace…”

He cuts you off gently “You should go.”

You flinch “We weren’t done.”

“I think we were.”

You step toward him, but he doesn’t move.

He doesn’t let himself.

“I meant what I said” you tell him “About everything.”

His voice is quiet “Yeah. That’s the problem.”

And then he walks away. Leaving you standing in the dark, alone with the weight of all the things that almost happened.

You make it to the girls’ quarters, swallow hard and enter the room.

You close the door and put your body agaist it as if you're trying to let all the problems stay out.

Nami stands there, brows lifting when she sees your face “Hey, we were just—”

But then she looks closer and her casual smile drops right off her face.

“…You okay?”

Your throat locks up.

Behind her, Robin looks up from the maps she’s laying out, calm as ever but watching you with those eyes that always seem to see what you don’t want them to.

You try to say something. Anything.

You don’t.

You sit down instead. Hard. Right on the edge of Nami’s bed like your legs stopped working.

Nami follows instantly, crouching in front of you “What happened?”

You shake your head, blinking fast, jaw clenched.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you whisper, voice barely there “I don’t know how to fix this.”

And then it breaks as you cover your face with your hands.

The tears hit before you can stop them. Hot, shaking, ugly sobs that you’ve held down for too long. Too many months of silence, too much guilt, too much everything.

You’re not even crying quietly. You break.

“I left because I thought it was the right thing!” you gasp “I thought he didn’t feel anything and I couldn’t take it anymore. And now he’s here and he does and it’s just—it’s too late and I ruined it.”

Nami wraps her arms around you instantly, holding tight.

Robin doesn’t say anything at first. She just sits beside you, brushing your hair back from your wet face with a gentle hand.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” Nami whispers “You were hurting. That’s not the same as ruining.”

You shake your head against her shoulder “He hates me.”

“He doesn’t...” Robin says simply.

You choke on a bitter laugh “He walked away.”

“Because he’s hurt too,” Robin adds “But that doesn’t mean it’s over.”

You wipe your face with your sleeve, trembling “I feel like I’ve been bleeding since the day I left.”

Robin’s voice is soft, but steady “Then maybe it’s time to stop bleeding. Start talking.”

Nami looks down at you, eyes gentle “Do you want to fix it?”

You nod. Miserably. Broken.

“Then we’ll help you,” she says “You don’t have to do it alone.”

And for the first time in a long time, you believe it.

The next morning, no one says anything out loud but it’s clear something has shifted.

You don’t talk about the breakdown you had the night before. You don’t talk about the ache in your throat or the way sleep never really came. You just sit at breakfast and try to act normal.

Except Robin keeps watching you. Nami keeps nudging your elbow like it’s nothing, but her smile is just a little too knowing.

Zoro doesn’t say a word but when Ace walks in and his eyes meet yours across the room and then quickly slide away Zoro exhales through his nose and mutters, “This is stupid.”

Nami catches that.

Her eyes flick to Robin, who arches a brow.

Time to get to work.

“Ace,” Nami says casually, catching him after breakfast, “Luffy’s going to be real mad if you leave before sparring with him again.”

Ace pauses “We already did yesterday. I'm here just to take some food.”

“Yeah, but now he wants a rematch. Says you cheated.”

“I didn’t cheat.”

“He’s Luffy,” Nami shrugs “He doesn’t care.”

Ace gives her a side glance “Why are you so invested?”

She smiles, all teeth “Me? Not at all.”

Later, Robin finds you on the deck alone, staring at the waves. You haven’t seen Ace since breakfast.

“He hasn’t left yet” she says gently.

You don’t look at her “I know.”

Robin glances out at the horizon “You’re not the only one afraid, you know.”

You grip the railing tighter “Then why does it feel like I am?”

Robin’s voice is soft “Because you’re not used to being vulnerable. But strength isn’t always about standing tall.”

You finally glance at her “You’re not really here to talk about fear.”

She smiles “No. I’m here to remind you that there’s still time.”

Meanwhile, Zoro corners Ace on the training deck. No swords, just crossed arms and that usual scowl.

“You leaving?” he asks.

Ace shrugs “Probably.”

Zoro raises a brow “You couldn't care less about that coat, did you?”

Ace laughs once “No.”

Zoro nods “Figured.”

“She cried last night.”

Ace’s shoulders freeze.

Zoro keeps his voice even “Not for attention. Not for drama. She broke. I heard her from the girls’ room”

Ace turns his head, jaw tense “…She okay?”

“No,” Zoro says honestly “And neither are you.”

He starts to walk away, but pauses.

“You don’t get many second chances,” he says over his shoulder “Don’t be a dumbass.”

Later that day, Luffy walks up to Ace and beams.

“Hey! Are you and Y/N in love?”

Ace nearly chokes on air “What?!”

Luffy tilts his head “You’re mad. She’s sad. You love each other, right? Just fix it already.”

Ace blinks at him, stunned.

“…You know, for a rubber guy, you’re terrifyingly blunt.”

Luffy grins “Thanks!”

By sunset, you’re back at the rail again. Same spot. Same ache.

Footsteps approach and you already know it’s him.

Ace stops a few feet away.

“You’re avoiding me” he says quietly.

“I’m trying to give you space.”

He exhales “I think we’ve had enough space to destroy a fleet.”

You swallow, heart pounding.

He steps closer.

“Can we talk?” he asks.

Your eyes meet his and nod.

The sky bleeds orange and gold as the sun dips low behind the sea.

Ace steps up beside you, quiet and calm. No tension in his shoulders.

“I’m leaving tomorrow.”

You turn slowly to look at him.

“I figured” you whisper.

Ace nods “I came for a coat. Didn’t expect to get set on fire instead.”

You almost smile. Almost.

He looks out over the ocean “Whitebeard misses you. So does Marco. Thatch tried to make your favorite meal last week but burned it like an idiot.”

You swallow hard.

“They never said it but I know they all knew why you left” he says “I was the only one not understanding…”

He doesn’t look at you yet.

He goes on “I’ll say you found your place. That you’re with Luffy’s crew now. That you’re surrounded by people who care about you. That you’re safe. I know my little brother will take good care of you. Even that green moody head seems to care about you.”

His voice softens “And I’ll tell them you’re happy.”

You feel something twist in your chest.

“And what about you?” you ask.

Ace is quiet.

“For a long time,” he says, “I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. Flirting, smiling, messing around… it was easy. It was nothing. Because the real thing scared me.”

You finally look at him.

He’s already watching you.

“I told myself I didn’t care,” he says “That the way I looked at you didn’t mean anything. That it was fine if you didn’t look back.”

He laughs bitterly “But I did care. I cared so damn much it felt like it was choking me.”

Your breath catches.

“Feeling things terrified me”

Silence.

Then he finally says it, soft and aching “I was in love with you. Still am.”

The air rushes out of your lungs.

Ace looks away.

“But I’m not asking you for anything. Not now. Not after all this. I just… I couldn’t leave without saying it. I couldn’t let you think it didn’t matter. That you didn’t matter. It will hurt to go back without you but I meant it before, I'll be happy to know you found another family here, with Luffy out of all people.”

You stare at him, heart pounding.

“You still love me?” you whisper “I thought it was too late...”

“It probably is,” he says with a small smile “But at least you’ll know.”

He turns to leave but your hand shoots out and you grab his sleeve.

“…Stay one more day,” you say, voice shaking “Please.”

Ace freezes.

Slowly, he turns back to you and for the first time in forever there’s hope in his eyes.

Neither of you say much since you asked him to stay.

But the silence is comfortable now. Familiar. Safe.

Ace glances sideways, his voice low “You sure about this?”

You nod, just once.

“Yeah.”

His fingers twitch beside yours, like he wants to reach for you again but he waits.

“I don’t mean just staying,” he murmurs “I mean… this. Us. Me.”

You take a breath, and your hand moves to cover his.

“I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t sure.”

He lets out a breath, almost like relief.

You both look out at the sea a while longer before you speak again.

“I missed you every day.”

Ace turns to you.

Your voice trembles, but you don’t look away.

“I thought about you every time I smiled. Every time something good happened. You were just… there in my mind, like you never left.”

His hand turns under yours, fingers lacing gently through yours.

“I hated you for leaving” he whispers.

You blink but he’s not angry. His voice is soft. Wounded.

“I hated you,” he says, “because you didn’t give me the chance to try stop you. But also because I was scared and stupid and thought I had time to figure it out.”

You’re quiet for a long moment.

Then you shift closer, just slightly, knees brushing. His hand stays in yours.

“You still have time.”

He looks at you then. Like you’re the first sunrise after a shipwreck.

“Can I kiss you?”

Your heart stutters.

You nod “Yes.”

And he does. It’s not desperate. Not rushed. Just real.

His lips are warm and trembling against yours. One hand moves to cradle your cheek, thumb brushing soft. You kiss him back, slow and full of everything you never got to say.

When he pulls away, his forehead rests gently against yours.

You rise slowly, fingers never leaving his, and lead him back into your room, silent, sure.

The night is tender. You lie beside each other in the dark, hearts bare and hands exploring familiar skin like it’s new.

When he presses kisses to your shoulder, your neck, your temple, you know it’s not just affection. It’s an apology. A thank you. A promise.

When he asks softly, “Is this okay?” you say “Yes” like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

And when you make love, it’s not about what you lost. It’s about what you finally found again.

No masks. No fear.

Just warmth.

Just you and him.

Just home.

You wake up warm.

Ace’s arm is draped across your waist, his breath steady at your back. His fingers twitch every so often, like he’s dreaming something wild. Or maybe something peaceful, for once.

You don’t want to move but you do, because you have to, because you both knew last night didn’t mean nothing’s changed, it meant everything has.

The galley is loud by the time you walk in.

The crew’s halfway through breakfast, everyone arguing over eggs and toast like nothing happened, like your world didn’t shift overnight.

Ace walks in behind you a second later, and the room stills for a heartbeat.

Then “YOU’RE FIRED!”

Luffy slams his hands on the table and points directly at you, grinning wide.

You blink “What?”

“You heard me!” he says “You slept with my brother! And on my ship! That’s illegal!”

You blush embarassed that even your oblivious Captain knew what happened.

Robin lifts her teacup “There’s no such law.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Luffy declares “I’m the captain. I make the rules here. Y/N, you’re fired.”

You open your mouth, then stop.

Because behind the ridiculous accusation, behind the over-the-top delivery you see the way his voice softens just slightly, the way his eyes look proud, not mad.

The way Nami nudges you, it’s okay.

This is Luffy's way of letting you go. He doesn’t want you to feel like you’re abandoning them.

So he turns it into a joke. A ridiculous, loud, Luffy's joke.

You laugh. You can’t help it.

Tears prick your eyes anyway.

Even Sanji tries his best to play it cool, almost looking proud, of you? Or of his Captain for understanding.

Usopp tries to cover Chopper's ears so that he doesn't hear about these adults' things.

Zoro doesn’t say much. Just leans back, arms folded, watching you with that unreadable gaze of his. But when you meet his eyes he nods. Just once.

He gets it. Even if it hurts a little more than he shows.

After breakfast, you start to pack. You barely get two things in your bag before someone knocks on your door.

Zoro.

He leans in the doorway, arms crossed, swords resting against his hip.

“Guess it’s real, huh?” he says quietly.

You nod.

“…Yeah.”

He doesn’t move for a second. Then he steps forward and gives something to you.

It’s your old Whitebeard crew headband you used to have on your arm, it's tattered and sun-bleached, but whole.

“Found it in the storage room last week,” he says “Thought you might want it back now.”

Your throat tightens “Thank you.”

Zoro shrugs “You were always part of another crew before this one. Doesn’t mean we didn’t like having you.”

“I’ll miss you” you whisper.

He smiles soft, sad “Don’t get all sentimental now. I won’t cry.”

You laugh through your tears and hugs him without giving him time to protest.

Zoro stays still for a while, his arm instinctively around your shoulders but he steps back before he could let him touch you.

“Go on, then,” he says “He’s waiting.”

You find Ace on the deck, bag slung over his shoulder, waiting at the edge of the ship like he’s afraid you’ll change your mind.

You take his hand and when you look back, the whole crew is there. Waving. Smiling. Luffy cheering like an idiot.

Little you know as soon as you’re out of sight Luffy, Nami, Chopper, Usopp amd Sanji all start to cry and act whining about how much they already miss you.

Your heart aches but it also feels full. Because you’re not losing a family. You’re just returning to another one, with love in your wake.

The Moby Dick is quiet when the small boat approaches. Too quiet.

Ace shifts nervously beside you, one hand still loosely holding yours, he hasn’t let go once since you left the Strawhats. You’re both sun-warmed, tired, hearts still tender. But you feel lighter now. Whole.

The closer you get, the more you can make out familiar silhouettes on deck. Marco, Thatch, Izo, even Whitebeard himself arms crossed, massive grin already tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Ace glances at you “Ready?”

You squeeze his hand “You better not let go the second we dock.”

He grins, all teeth and dimples “Not a chance.”

⸻

The second your boots hit the deck, it’s chaos.

“YOU BROUGHT HER BACK?!” Thatch yells, practically jumping over the railing to tackle you in a hug.

Marco stares at you, blinking slowly “I thought you were mad at all of us.”

You raise a brow “I wasn’t mad.”

Then his eyes flick to your joined hands.

Then back to your faces.

“…Wait.”

Izo’s eyes narrow “Wait.”

There’s a pause.

And then everyone starts yelling at once.

“What the hell—since when?!”

“Hold on, you two are—are—what is this?”

“Are you in love now?!”

“Thatch owes me 500 berries!!”

You laugh joyfully, and Ace wraps his arm around your waist like he’s proud to show you off. Because he is.

Whitebeard’s booming laughter cuts through it all “So the brat really did bring you back. And you didn’t punch him?”

“Not yet,” you tease “But the day’s still young.”

Ace leans into you, soft and smug “I’m pretty sure she loves me too much to punch me.”

You elbow him.

“I repeat” you deadpan “The day is still young.”

Everyone groans.

Marco squints suspiciously “No, seriously. You? Soft? Since when?”

Ace, without a hint of shame “Since forever. I was just emotionally constipated.”

“Understatement of the century” mutters Izo.

Thatch’s voice cuts in, cackling “Do I get to be best man at the wedding or what?!”

You choke. Ace doesn’t even deny it, just raises his brows like, maybe.

You cover your face “I hate it here.”

Ace pulls your hand away gently and kisses your cheek in front of everyone.

“Liar” he murmurs, voice low and warm.

You glance up at him and yeah.

Okay.

You really, really don’t.

[prettiestofpisces]

juju watkins x reader

synopsis: where flaujaes podcast episode w ju turns into a debut of you

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

————————————

while cooking diner you searched for something to watch on youtube. stumbling across flaujaes newest episode featuring your girlfriend, juju. without second thought you clicked on it.

being a longer episode it was perfect for background noise as you cook, especially since juju wasn’t even in LA.

flaujae starts the video introducing juju, calling her a “young legend” and “certified bucket”. you smile to yourself, knowing said bucket is the love of your life. she looks perfect although in her usual white tee, she’s glowing. not to mention the bling around her neck which you gifted her.

you’re entertained, giggling while watching the two stars talk amongst themselves until flaujae mentions jujus instagram handle, jujubballin.

“oh my god” she groans, rolling her eyes with the biggest smile on her face.

flaujae throws her head back in laughter as juju gathers her thoughts.

“you know when i first met my girlfriend, she asked for my instagram and i was like uh- just type juju” she says grinning, so incredibly flustered.

you blush as well, not only loving how she casually mentioned you but remembering the embarrassment you felt asking, stumbling over your words, shaking as you pulled out your phone.

however that wasn’t the end.

flaujae being the host she is of course, is wanting to know more.

“girlfriend? go on…” she teased.

“bro!” she said shaking her head, juju sounding playfully irritated once again.

“she- she’s my everything. usc legend, cheryl miller told me to find a place where i can be juju, not basketball star or fastest scoring leader, just juju…and i think she’s my place.”

while tears are threatening to fall from your eyes, jujus subtly nodding. she looks over to flaujae who’s mouth is agape, in awe of the love you share.

“i can’t wait for me and my future man’s to be like!” she exclaimed

you laugh at this however you couldn’t wait to just be able to embrace your girlfriend

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

———

hi love bugs

i wanted to write something oh so tooth rotting, idk if succeeded but i know i’d be kicking my feet if this happened

another fic or two coming so soon..

muah

[devotedlyandrogynousyouth]

Hii I love your writing, especially your jason todd fics! I was wondering if I could get a jason todd x reader, where she has had a lot of stress on her and it’s basically just fluff with a slight bit of angst. You can do it as headcanons or a one shot, it’s up to you! Thank you and have a good rest of your day <3333

Aww ty!! Im so sorry this took so long, life has been a little hectic recently, so this is a good time for me to get back into things

Just a Crappy Night

Jason Todd x Stressed! Reader

Guys I promise I'll start posting more regularly soon😰

First, your alarm didn't go off.

It wasn't a huge deal, at first. You woke up at 6:27 AM, so you still had a bit of time to do your makeup and hair before work. But waking up almost half an hour late puts every one into a crappy mood.

Then, your car keys died on you.

Honestly, you don't think they ever have before. You didn't even have the right batteries to replace them! And, of course, it was the cold-as-balls spring Gotham weather that greeted you as soon as you walked out of your apartment building. To make things worse, all of your good sweaters were still in the back seat or trunk, so you had to walk to the nearest convenience store in a T-shirt. It was fucking cold.

You could feel it in your bones—like the kind of cold that gnaws, not just chills. The wind cut across your skin every time it blew, and by the time you made it to the convenience store, your fingers were stiff and your nose wouldn't stop running. They didn’t even have the batteries you needed. You settled for an overpriced cup of coffee that tasted like burnt disappointment and barely stayed warm in your hands.

Then the train was late. Of course it was. And when it did come, it was packed. Shoulder-to-shoulder with strangers who didn’t understand the concept of personal space, you were pretty sure someone coughed directly onto your neck. Your earbuds died halfway through your playlist, leaving you alone with the sounds of screeching rails and someone’s toddler screaming about juice for seven stops.

At work, your boss sent an “urgent” email asking for a report you’d already submitted yesterday—twice. You pointed it out. They replied with a thumbs-up emoji. No apology. No acknowledgment. Just that damn emoji.

Lunch was worse. You were looking forward to the leftovers you’d brought from last night—Jason had cooked, and it was one of those rare nights he didn’t almost burn the kitchen down. But someone stole your container out of the break room fridge. Who does that?

You ended up eating sad vending machine pretzels and a can of flat soda while trying not to cry in front of your monitor.

The rest of the afternoon dragged. Your inbox wouldn’t stop pinging. You dropped your pen three times. A coworker made a passive-aggressive comment about your “resting stress face.” By the time you finally made it home, your feet hurt, your head ached, and you were one minor inconvenience away from losing it.

Then Jason showed up.

He let himself in, all leather jacket and soft eyes, carrying takeout and smiling like the world hadn't tried to ruin you all day. You didn’t even let him speak.

You didn’t even look at him when he walked in. You heard the door open, heard the soft thud of his boots on the floor and the rustle of the takeout bag, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move. Not because you didn’t want him there, but because you didn’t know what would come out of your mouth if you opened it.

Jason’s voice was soft. “Hey. Brought that dumpling place you like.”

You scoffed under your breath. That was what did it, somehow—not the keys, not the cold, not the train or your asshole boss or the lunch thief. The dumplings.

You stood up too fast. “Are you serious right now?”

Jason blinked, confused. “Uh. Yeah? I thought—”

“No, that’s the problem, Jason. You didn’t think.” You didn’t mean to yell. But your voice cracked and your throat burned and everything that had been building all day spilled out in a hot, ugly mess. “You don’t get to waltz in here and play hero with takeout like that fixes anything.”

He set the bag down slowly. His face stayed neutral, calm—but you knew him well enough to see the flicker in his eyes. The one that said he didn’t expect this.

“I wasn’t trying to fix anything,” he said carefully. “I just thought you might want something warm. Something easy.”

“Nothing’s easy.” You spat the words like poison. “Not today. Not this week. Not—God, Jason. I’m so tired.”

His silence pressed in around you. You hated it. Hated how patient he was. How gentle. How it made you feel like the worst person alive for yelling at someone who just wanted to feed you.

But the anger didn’t go away. It stayed under your skin like a fever. It wasn’t about him, but he was here. And you couldn’t keep holding it in.

“I had to walk in the fucking freezing cold, in a goddamn T-shirt, because I couldn’t get into my own car. I got coughed on. I had to eat fucking vending machine food while that bitch from accounting laughed like a hyena at something I wrote. And now you come in like some... fix-it boyfriend with dumplings and dimples and I—” Your voice broke. “I can’t do this right now. I just can’t.”

Jason stepped back, hands half-raised like he was surrendering. “Okay. That’s okay. You don’t have to.”

You stared at him. His face was unreadable now, jaw tight but eyes still soft. That just made it worse.

“I just need space,” you muttered, voice shaking. “I need, like... an hour. I just need not to be looked at like I’m broken, or sad, or something you have to fix."

Jason nodded once. “I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

You didn’t answer. You just slipped into your room, shut the door, and collapsed onto your bed. You didn’t cry at first. You just lay there, clutching a pillow like it might hold you together.

Eventually the tears came. Silent, exhausted, hollowing. Not loud or dramatic—just the kind that made your chest hurt.

An hour later, the door creaked open. All you heard were soft footsteps. No words. Jason climbed into the bed behind you, wrapped an arm around your waist, and pulled you close before covering you with the plush comforter. You didn’t resist. He didn’t say anything. Just held you. He kept one hand on your hip, the other brushing slow lines across your arm.

“I’m sorry I yelled,” you mumbled after a long while, the sound muffled slightly by his chest.

“I know,” he whispered into your hair, pressing a barely-there kiss to the crown of your head. "You're okay, sweetheart. It's all over now."

Eventually, the silence softened.

Your tears had dried into that hollow, shaky calm that comes after a storm—eyes puffy, throat sore, body heavy. Jason didn’t move. He just stayed wrapped around you, warm and steady, letting you breathe. Letting you be.

“Are the dumplings still warm?” you mumbled into his shirt.

He let out a small breath of a laugh. “Probably not. But I can heat them up.”

You shook your head against him. “Don’t wanna move."

There was a pause. Then: “Be right back.”

He slipped out of bed and padded quietly into the kitchen. A few minutes later, he returned with the takeout bag, two sets of chopsticks, and the smell of something vaguely spicy and fried.

He sat on the edge of the bed, opened the box, and offered you the first bite like he always did.

You sat up, messy and quiet, and took it. The dumpling was warm-ish. A little soggy. But it tasted good—maybe even better than usual, because your stomach had been a clenched fist all day and now it was finally unclenching.

Jason climbed in next to you, cross-legged, holding the box between you both like it was sacred. You ate in silence, trading bites, not needing to say much. You didn’t even realize how hungry you were until the box was almost empty.

You licked chili oil off your thumb and looked at him. “Thanks.”

“For what?”

“For still being here.”

Jason looked at you like he always did when he wasn’t sure whether to kiss you or just hold you tighter. “You had a shitty day. That doesn’t scare me off.”

You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. “I was kind of an asshole.”

He shrugged gently. “You didn’t mean it. And honestly? I’ve been worse.”

You laughed quietly, and he kissed the top of your head. “You want me to clean up?”

You shook your head. “Tomorrow.”

When the last dumpling was gone and you’d both fallen into that quiet post-meal haze, Jason reached over you carefully and grabbed the empty takeout box. You watched through half-lidded eyes as he leaned past the bed and set it gently on the nightstand, chopsticks sticking out like little flags of peace.

Then he turned back to you, tugged the blanket up over your shoulder, and smoothed it down like he was sealing you in.

“You good?” he asked softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

You nodded, too tired to speak, eyes already closing.

Jason kissed your forehead, then settled in beside you again, arm snug around your waist.

Masterlist

[lvnleah]

little moments | no more secrets.

find the no more secrets materlist here!

13 weeks pregnant | January 16th 2025 

You found yourself getting closer to Kyra each day, she was always by your side. 

You hadn’t stopped throwing up all morning, Beth had to pull over God knows how many times on the way to training. Each stop was filled with you either throwing up or dry heaving miserably on the side of the road. By the time you actually arrived at the training ground, you felt drained, your limbs heavy, your stomach aching, and your patience nonexistent.

Beth shot you a worried look as she parked. “You sure you’re okay to train?”

You exhaled sharply, leaning your head back against the seat. “I have to.”

Beth frowned. “No, you don’t have to. No one’s expecting you to push through when you feel like shit.”

“I’ll be fine,” you muttered, though neither of you believed it. “It’s just a little bit of nausea.”

Beth didn’t look convinced but sighed in defeat. “At least let me tell Renée how bad it’s been this morning.”

You groaned but didn’t argue. You knew Beth would tell her anyway, whether you agreed or not.

Dragging yourself out of the car, you walked sluggishly into the training centre. Your body protested every movement, nausea still churning deep in your stomach, but you forced yourself to push through.

Kyra was already in the changing room, “Hey, you—” Her excitement faded as soon as she got a good look at you. “Whoaaa. You look terrible, Hayds.”

“Wow, thanks,” you muttered, rubbing a hand over your face. “That’s so kind of you, Ky!”

Kyra’s expression shifted to concern. “No, seriously, you okay?”

“Just morning sickness,” you said, as if that made it any less miserable.

Kyra winced in sympathy. “Still? I thought that was supposed to ease up by now.”

You snorted. “Tell that to the baby. They love making my life hell.”

Training started, and you did your best to focus, but it didn’t take long for everything to catch up to you. At the end of training, you felt the familiar warning signs, your stomach twisting uncomfortably, cold sweat breaking out along your skin.

You barely managed to make it to the toilets in the changing room before you gagged violently, doubling over at the side of the toilet.

“Shit—” Kyra was at your side in an instant, her hand hesitantly hovering over your back before she finally made contact, rubbing gentle circles. “You’re okay, just umm…breathe. Yeah, breathe!”

That might have been comforting if, seconds later, Kyra let out a strangled sound and stumbled backward. “Oh my god. Nope. Nope, I can’t do this—”

Even in your miserable state, you couldn’t help but let out a weak laugh between heaves. “Are you serious right now?”

Kyra made an absolutely horrified face, taking another step away like distance would make it easier to handle. “I— I tried—”

But before she could even attempt to redeem herself, a firm but amused voice interrupted.

“Move,” Alessia said, stepping in. She barely spared Kyra a glance before crouching beside you, pulling your hair back and rubbing slow, soothing circles on your back. “Deep breaths. Let it pass.”

Kyra, still a safe distance away, groaned. “I was helping!”

Alessia raised an unimpressed eyebrow as she chucked. “You ran.”

“I panicked!” Kyra protested.

You let out another weak laugh, your body still shaky as the nausea finally started to settle. “Worst support system ever.”

Kyra gasped, “Hey! That’s mean.”

Alessia snorted, still focused on you. “Let’s get you inside, yeah?”

You nodded tiredly, letting her help you from your spot on the floor, while Kyra muttered under her breath about how unfair it was that her one weakness had betrayed her so badly.

14 weeks pregnant | January 22nd 2025 

Away trips were never fun but they were even worse now that you were pregnant. You weren’t playing, but you still wanted to be there to support the team. It also made you feel normal too. 

The team was traveling to Brighton, and despite the exhaustion pressing down on you like a weight, you’d insisted on coming along. You weren’t about to let pregnancy ruin you, and besides, you didn’t want to miss out. 

Beth had raised an eyebrow when you’d told her your plan. “Are you sure? You can barely stay awake for an entire training session.”

You’d rolled your eyes. “I’ll be fine, I’ve got my colouring books so it’ll be alright.”

So now, here you were, tucked into a seat on the team bus, wedged between Kyra and the window, with Caitlin and Katie sitting on the opposite side of the table to you. The four of you had somehow ended up as a little pocket of chaos, which meant the journey would either be entertaining or absolutely unbearable.

Kyra had been in a teasing mood since the moment you sat down.

“Hayden,” she said, poking your side as you tried to focus on your colouring book, “Hayden,” another poke. “Hayden,” yet another poke. “Haydennnnn!”

“Oh my god!” You grumbled, pausing your colouring that had your full focus, “What do you want?”

“Geez, I just wanted attention,” Kyra huffed, a pout forming on her face as she crossed her arms over her chest. “But you’re too busy colouring!”

“You’re a child,” you muttered, shaking your head as you returned to your page. 

Coloring was one of the few things that helped you relax, and with the way pregnancy had your emotions all over the place, you needed all the peace you could get.

Kyra leaned over, her chin resting on your shoulder as she peered at your page. “What are you even coloring?”

“A sunset,” you answered, carefully shading in the gradient of the sky.

“Looks good,” she hummed, before suddenly snatching a random marker from your set.

“Kyra,” you warned, already sensing trouble.

“What? I just wanna help,” she said innocently, uncapping the pen. But instead of contributing anything useful, she scribbled a tiny heart in the corner of your page.

You sighed. “You’re an absolute menace.”

Kyra just grinned, “And yet, you love me.”

You tried to fight back a smile as you playfully shoved her away, focusing back on your work. After a few peaceful minutes, though, you noticed something was… off.

You picked up a blue but it wasn’t blue it was purple. 

Frowning, you checked your markers and your stomach dropped. The lids had been swapped. Your yellows were actually oranges, your blues were actually purples, and worst of all, your favorite shade of yellow was completely ruined, mixed with a streak of dark green.

“Kyra!” you gasped, horror in your voice.

Kyra peeked at you with a shit-eating grin. “What?”

“My pens! You—you ruined my yellow!”

Across from you, Katie let out a loud cackle while Caitlin snorted into her drink. “You didn’t.” Caitlin gasped, “Kyra, you’re such a pest.”

Kyra gasped dramatically, as if she was shocked by the accusation. “I would never do such a thing.”

“Oh, you definitely did such a thing.” Katie laughed, “Yer ruined the poor girl's pens!”

“Okay, but in my defense, I didn’t think Hayden actually used that yellow.” Kyra shrugged, “Yellows ugly.”

You groaned, throwing your head back in frustration. “I always use that yellow!”

“Oops?”

“Oops? Kyra, I’m pregnant. Do you want me to cry?” you said, tears bubbling up.

Kyra’s smirk dropped instantly. “Wait no, no, don’t do that! I’ll…I’ll fix it!”

But Kyra was too late, tears were already streaming down your face and she began to panic. 

“Way to go, Kyra!” Caitlin huffed, “Hey Hayden, it’s okay. We’ll get you some more pens yeah?”

Katie handed you a tissue, “Well done, you’ve made the pregnant woman cry!” Katie added, kicking Kyra under the table. 

“Hayds, I’ll buy you new markers. I’ll buy you ten sets of markers. Please don’t cry.” Kyra apologised frantically. 

“You…you ruined all of my markers!” You sniffled, tears streaming down my face, “Colouring the only thing I like at the moment and…and I use the yellow all the time!”

“Hey, hey, please don’t cry,” Kyra begged, picking up her phone and typing the brand name of your pens into her search bar. “Are these the pens you use?” You nodded. “Okay, okay, look I’ll buy the pack of 200!”

You watched closely as Kyra brought the pen set but not just any pen set, it was the pen set you’d been wanting for months. The set you couldn’t justify buying for yourself. 

Your tears stopped immediately.

Kyra blinked at you in confusion as you wiped your face, sniffled once, and then just… smiled. Without a word, you leaned into her side, resting your head on her shoulder.

Kyra hesitated. “Wait… were you faking it?”

You hummed, eyes already drifting shut. “No,” you murmured sleepily, “hormones are just weird.”

Kyra relaxed, wrapping an arm around you instinctively. The warmth of her, the gentle rise and fall of her breathing, made it impossible to stay awake.

But just before sleep fully pulled you under, you mumbled against her shoulder, barely loud enough for her to hear, “I really wanted them but couldn’t justify it. Thank you.”

Kyra just looked at Katie and Caitlin who were biting their lip, trying not to laugh, “What the fuck just happened?”

“That’s pregnancy hormones for you, pest!” Caitlin said, trying her hardest not to laugh and wake you up. 

15 weeks pregnant | January 30th 2025

“Ow, fuck!” You yelped mid squat, immediately dropping the weight.

Everyone’s attention immediately turned to you. You felt the ache immediately in your calf. Being fifteen weeks pregnant, things in the gym and training were starting to slow down. 

Your body was changing a lot, you had a little bump now and everyday you noticed something new changing in your body. Gym session felt harder than before and it was driving you insane. 

Kyra was the first to reach you, eyes wide with concern. “What happened?” she asked, steadying you as you winced and sat on the ground. 

“Just—my calf,” you muttered, exhaling slowly. “I think I overdid it.”

Beth immediately rushed over to your side before listing off what felt like a million and one questions, “Are you alright? What did you do? Is it the baby? Do you need the doctor? What is it? Tell me!”

“Jesus Christ woman, I will if you let me.” You huffed, “It’s just my calf,” you reassured her, though the ache was definitely more than a small twinge.

Before you knew it you were sat on the ground, Kyra crouched beside you on one side with Beth on the other while Lia, Kim and Leah stood around you. 

Lia raised an eyebrow. “Hayden the physios said to take things easy! You need to follow their advice.”

“You mean ‘take it easy’ like you did when you had that knee injury?” you shot back. 

“Difference is, she wasn’t pregnant,” Kim pointed out, “Come on, let’s get you to sit down on a chair and let physio check you over.”

“I’m pregnant, not injured,” you argued, but the ache in your calf had you leaning into Kim slightly as she pulled you up.

“Yeah but you’re still overdoing it,” Kyra huffed, “You should just take it easy.”

“You’re pregnant and you just hurt your calf,” Alessia pointed out. “So… maybe listen to Kyra for once?”

“Can someone pinch me?” Leah asked, “Kyra’s making sense, why is Kyra making sense?”

Kyra rolled her eyes, “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Hayds, just go and get checked out.”

“Are you feeling alright?” Beth said, placing a hand on Kyra’s forehead. “You sure you aren’t the one who needs the physio to check you over?”

Kyra swatted Beth’s hand away, “Fuck off, Beth. I’m fine, I just think Hayds should get checked over.”

“If you don’t take me to the physio I’ll get you a takeaway tonight and we can watch whatever movie you want, Ky!” You tried to persuade Kyra. “I promise.”

She hesitated for a moment and just as she was about to say something, Kim interrupted her, “Absolutely not, no! You need to get checked.”

“But Kimmm!” You whined, trying everything to avoid the physio, “I’d be wasting their time!”

Kim sighed, shaking her head as she led you in the direction of the physio’s room. “No. Now come on, let’s get you to the physios.”

“Wait for me!” Kyra said, joining you and Kim, “I wasn’t actually gonna agree!”

Beth was already hovering again, practically ready to carry you herself if needed. “Do you want me to—”

“I can walk,” you interrupted, though your calf protested when you put weight on it. Kyra shot you a knowing look, and before you could argue, she ducked under your arm, letting you lean on her.

Lia sighed as you hobbled out of the gym with Kyra and Kim. “I give it two days before she’s back in the gym trying to squat again.”

“More like one,” Leah corrected. “That girls stubborn.”

“I can hear you, you know,” you grumbled. “I’m pregnant, not injured!”

Beth followed closely behind, “Yeah, well, you look injured right now, so maybe just once listen to your body?”

You sighed, allowing Kyra to help you down the hall toward the physio room. “I am listening to my body,” you muttered. “It just doesn’t always say things I want to hear.”

Kyra snorted but didn’t comment, instead adjusting her hold on you to keep you steady. Beth, however, wasn’t done.

“You know, this wouldn’t be happening if you actually rested like the physios told you to,” Beth continued. “Instead, you’re in the gym squatting like you’re not carrying an actual human inside you.”

“I wasn’t even lifting that much,” you argued, though the tightness in your calf was making you regret your stubbornness. “I was just doing some squats.”

Kim scoffed. “You literally just yelped and dropped a weight.”

Beth, walking beside you, shot you a knowing look. “And scared the shit out of all of us.”

“I’m fine,” you reassured her softly. “Promise.”

You finally reached the physio’s room before any of them could say anything else. Kyra helped you ease down onto the physio table while Beth stood close, watching like a hawk. The physio, Emma, raised an eyebrow as she pulled up a stool.

“What did you do this time?” she asked, already reaching for your leg.

“Nothing serious,” you said quickly.

“She tried to squat and dropped the weight,” Kyra interjected before you could downplay it any further.

Emma shot you a look before gently prodding at your calf. You hissed as she pressed on the tight muscle, and Beth let out a sharp exhale behind you.

“Tight as hell,” Emma muttered. “Probably just a strain, but let’s be sure.” She reached for some massage oil and began working through the muscle. “How’s everything else? Any other pain, dizziness, discomfort?”

“I’m fine,” you said, but Beth scoffed loudly.

“She’s not fine. She’s been pushing herself too hard.”

Emma glanced between the two of you before shaking her head. “That doesn’t surprise me. Hayden, you do realize your body is changing, right? Your center of gravity is shifting, your ligaments are loosening, and your muscles are working overtime to compensate. You can’t train the same way you used to.”

You groaned, letting your head fall back. “I know that, but slowing down is driving me insane.”

“I just don’t want you to push yourself so hard that something actually happens. To you or your baby.” Emma said, “You need to take things easy.”

Your eyes flickered to hers, and you sighed. “I’ll be more careful, okay?”

Beth studied you for a moment before nodding. “Good.”

Emma smirked. “Alright, let’s get you sorted. But Hayden, this means modifying your training properly. No more squats with weights for now.”

16 weeks pregnant | February 6th 2025. 

“Are you two sure you’re going to be okay?” Beth asked for what felt like the millionth time. 

“Yes, Bethany,” Kyra sighed, pushing Beth towards the front door, “We’ll be fine, I’ll look after the pregnant lady very very well.”

“Stop pushing me out of my own house, Kyra!” Beth groaned as she joined Viv at the front door. 

Kyra grinned, not looking the least bit sorry. “You’ll thank me later when you realize a night out without babysitting Hayds is exactly what you need.”

“Hey!” You mumbled, “I don’t need a babysitter! I’m pregnant, not a child.”

“You do realize Beth’s still going to text every five minutes, right?” Viv sighed, throwing her coat on. 

Beth shot Viv a glare. “I am not that bad.”

You and Kyra exchanged a look before responding in unison. “Yes, you are.”

Beth groaned, throwing her hands up. “Fine! Whatever! But if anything happens—”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll call,” Kyra finished for her. “Now go before you change your mind and decide to stay home hovering over Hayds like a mother hen.”

Beth grumbled under her breath but finally stepped outside. “Try not to kill each other or the dog please.” Viv sighed. 

“No promises,” Kyra quipped as she shut the door behind them. 

As soon as Beth and Viv were gone, she turned to you with a mischievous grin. “So… how much trouble do you think we can get into before they get back?”

You sighed, rubbing your belly. “Ky, no. Beth and Viv will kill me if anything happens to us or the dog.”

Kyra pouted dramatically. “Okay, okay. No trouble. But that means we need a new plan. Movie night? Snacks? Ice cream?”

You considered it for a moment before nodding. “Ice cream sounds good. And a movie, if you don’t pick something terrible.”

“So rude.” Kyra gasped, rolling her eyes, “My taste is amazing!”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling as you followed her to the kitchen, Myle following closely behind you. 

Half an hour later, the two of you were curled up on the sofa, a blanket draped over your legs, a tub of ice cream between you, and IT playing on the screen.

“This was a terrible idea,” you muttered, gripping the spoon a little tighter as Pennywise’s eerie smile filled the screen.

Kyra, who had insisted this movie was a “classic” and that you were both “definitely brave enough” to handle it, was now clutching onto you like her life depended on it. 

“Okay, but why does he have to be that creepy?” she whispered.

Myle, the only one completely unfazed, was curled up on the rug, sleeping peacefully while the two of you suffered in fear.

When a particularly terrifying jump scare had Kyra yelping and you squeezing your eyes shut, you’d had enough. “Nope. I’m done. Turn it off.”

Kyra fumbled for the remote, slamming the power button so fast she nearly dropped it. “Yeah, okay, maybe this was a mistake.”

You exhaled deeply, rubbing a hand over your bump, trying to protect it from nothing. “Beth and Viv are never going to let us live this down if they find out we got scared by a movie and had to turn it off.”

Kyra shook her head. “No, no, nope! They’re never finding out.”

A tense silence settled between you, both of you still very much on edge. The house, which had felt cozy and warm earlier, now seemed way too dark and way too quiet.

“…Do you think Pennywise is real?” Kyra asked suddenly.

You threw a pillow in her direction, “Shy would you say that! Are you trying to scare me into not sleeping?!”

Kyra gulped. “I mean… we don’t know he’s not.”

That was it. You were not spending another second in that living room. “Come on, we’re going to bed,” you announced, standing up so quickly you almost knocked over the ice cream.

Kyra didn’t argue. She practically sprinted after you, grabbing a spatula from the kitchen counter on the way.

“What the hell are you doing?” you asked, stopping at your bedroom door. 

“Weapon,” Kyra said seriously, holding the spatula like it was some kind of deadly blade.

“You are unbelievable.” You chuckled, heading into your bedroom with Myle trailing at your feet. “…But it ain’t a bad idea.”

“You’ll be thanking me when Pennywise shows up and I save us,” she muttered, sliding under the covers beside you. 

You weren’t sure how long you’d been asleep, but the sound of the front door opening jolted you and Kyra awake at the same time.

“Did…did you hear that?” Kyra whispered, her grip tightening on the spatula that she’d fallen asleep with. 

Your heart pounded in your chest. “Of course I heard it! Someone’s in the house!”

Kyra gasped. “It’s Pennywise. We’re done for.”

“Oh my God, Kyra, shut up!” you hissed, your brain not exactly working logically at 1am.

Footsteps echoed down the hallway. Kyra’s hand clenched around the spatula.

“This is it,” she whispered dramatically. “We’re gonna die.”

As soon as the bedroom door creaked open, you both screamed and before she could think twice, Kyra swung the spatula with full force.

A loud smack echoed through the room, followed by a pained “What the fuck!?”

“…Viv?” you said, eyes adjusting to see Viv standing there, one hand clutching her forehead, the other frozen in shock.

Beth, standing just behind her, blinked in confusion. “Did you just hit Viv with a spatula?” She asked before laughing. 

Kyra, still holding the weapon, looked equally horrified and impressed. “I—I think I did.”

Viv groaned, rubbing her forehead. “Why the fuck did you hit me?”

“We thought you were Pennywise!” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

Silence.

Then Beth wheezed. “You thought—” She had to pause to catch her breath. “—you thought Pennywise broke into the house?”

Kyra sat there frozen for a moment before nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, we did.”

Beth lost it. She doubled over laughing, clutching her stomach while Viv groaned and muttered something in Dutch.

“You’re both fucking ridiculous,” Viv grumbled, still rubbing her forehead. “I come home after a nice night out, and I get attacked in my own house.”

Beth wiped at her eyes, still grinning. “Ky, I can’t believe you hit Viv with a spatula.”

Kyra huffed. “You weren’t the one who just spent two hours being traumatized by a demonic clown, Bethany!”

Beth shook her head, still laughing, before looking at you. “And you let her do it?”

Viv groaned again, still not over the fact she’d been smacked in the face for simply walking into her own house. “I hate you both.”

The next morning, you woke up to Kyra groaning beside you, muttering something about how her back hurt from sleeping in a weird position. You were about to tease her when the events of last night came rushing back.

“Oh my god,” you whispered, covering your face with your hands. “We are never living this down.”

Kyra groaned again, this time for a different reason. “Viv is never going to let me forget that I threw a spatula at her.”

Before you could respond, a soft knock on the door interrupted you, followed by Beth’s overly chipper voice.

“Good morning, my little horror movie survivors!” she called out.

You groaned into your pillow, “Go away, Beth.”

“Not a chance,” she said, pushing the door open. “We’re going for a walk. You two need fresh air after the traumatic experience you put yourselves through.”

Kyra peeked over the covers. “Is Viv coming?”

Beth smirked. “Yep. And she’s got a lovely reminder of your… reflexes on her forehead.”

Half an hour later, the four of you were strolling through the park with Leah, Alessia, Lotte, and Steph along with their dogs. You walked beside Beth, holding Myle’s leash while Kyra had placed herself between you and Viv, clearly still feeling guilty.

It didn’t take long for someone to notice.

“What the hell happened to your head?” Alessia asked, squinting at the faint bruise forming on her forehead.

Viv sighed, “Kyra happened.”

“Oh god, what have you done now?” Steph groaned, “I swear to god Kyra if you—”

Kyra immediately turned red. “I didn’t mean to!”

Leah raised an eyebrow. “Wait, wait, what?”

Beth burst out laughing, unable to hold it in. “Kyra threw a spatula at her.”

That was all it took for the girls to lose it.

Alessia practically doubled over. “You what?”

“Kyra!” Steph said, whacking her lightly on the back of her head, “Poor Viv.”

Lotte tried to be sympathetic but was biting back a smile. “Viv, I’m so sorry. That must’ve hurt.”

“Oh, it did,” Viv grumbled. “Never thought I’d get hit with a spatula…”

Kyra, still looking mortified, groaned. “We watched IT, okay? We were already freaked out, and then you two showed up and scared us half to death!”

Leah shook her head, still laughing. “So, your first reaction to being scared was to throw a spatula?”

“I panicked!” Kyra defended. “And it was the closest weapon when I went to bed!”

Alessia wiped a tear from her eye. “Oh, Ky, this is the best thing I’ve heard all week.”

“You’re all the worst,” Kyra muttered, shoving her hands in her pockets.

You squeezed her arm in sympathy. “I mean… you did say the spatula would come in handy.”

Viv let out a dramatic sigh. “Next time, just aim for Beth instead.”

Beth gasped, “Wow. Betrayal!”

As the laughter died down, the conversation shifted to other things, though every now and then, one of the girls would glance at Viv and chuckle under their breath.

Kyra leaned into your side, mumbling, “I’m never living this down, am I?”

You smiled, “Nope, you’re never gonna forget this.”

[overadores]

unexpected hello, unwanted goodbye

── .✦ 𝐒ophia 𝐋aforteza

"Hindi tayo pwede"

༉‧₊˚.pairing: sophia laforteza x reader ༉‧₊˚.genre: heavy angst. no comfort. ༉‧₊˚.cw: homophobic and misogynist parents. right person, wrong time. unlabeled relationship. violence. homophobia. ༉‧₊˚.wc: 11.6k ༉‧₊˚.author's note: okay, please do not portray the characters’ personalities as reflections of real people — especially Sophia's parents. For the love of God, it's just part of the story. so I repeat: DO NOT and this might stung a little. not proofread. also some dialogues of Sophia is in Tagalog. i really dragged this out so please excuse that lol, anw i hope you guys enjoy reading!!

"Pinagtagpo pero 'di tinadhana"

Sophia Laforteza. 

She’s the well-known daughter of a famous chef and a retired actress. The only daughter out of three siblings, and her mother’s expected— successor in the limelight. Ever since she could remember, Sophia was always the center of attention. Not in a sparkly, look-at-me kind of way—but in a way that felt…heavy. Like she was carrying something that was never really hers to begin with.

Her older and younger brothers? They were just there. Background characters. Her parents never really paid them much attention. Her dad would always say with a soft chuckle, “You’re a girl, darling—you’re too emotional and fragile to handle the real world like your brothers can. We need to take care of you.”

And that’s what Sophia always kept in mind whenever her parents dictated what she could or couldn’t do. She never thought of them as strict—just overprotective. She thought, maybe they just love me too much. Maybe all that control was their way of showing care.

When Sophia reached elementary, she started noticing things. Her friends had parents who let them go out, who said “yes” to playdates, sleepovers, and mall trips. Meanwhile, Sophia was always told “Hala, you might get lost and never come back to us,” or “May masasamang loob diyan, anak. They might take you and we’ll never see you again.”

She never protested. Never questioned. She just nodded, returned to her room, and played with her toys like nothing was wrong. She didn’t ask her friends why their parents were so...chill. Why no one watched their every move. Why did they seem free? Sophia thought, “Siguro, my parents just love me more.

High school went by in a blur. Halfway through 10th grade, she found herself transferring schools—not just to another city, but to the States. It came out of nowhere. One minute, she was settling into her old school, the next, she was dealing with new faces, unfamiliar routines, and time zones her body refused to adjust to. But she made it through. She finished with grades good enough to please her parents.

Then came college.

Sophia started her freshman year as the shy, quiet type. The kind of student professors liked because she never caused a scene. She barely spoke unless called on. She had no friends, no distractions. Her routine was strict—get home early, no hanging out, no dilly-dallying. So she just focused her way on the top and never cared for any social interactions not until one of the popular girls “befriended” her. 

Sophia didn’t want to be with this certain circle of friends, she knew their reputation around the school. She had heard things—rumors, whispers about the kind of stuff they did after school. Parties, alcohol, hooking up with seniors. Which was not her scene, but of course her people pleasing skills betrayed her. 

She didn’t know how to say no.

At first it was just a friendly interaction—hello’s in the hallway, turned into eating with them during lunch, then into being groups with them in every project. She tried her best to keep their friendship at that level, no hangouts at each other's houses, no invites, just a purely casual friendship. 

Then one night—it was already quiet, everyone was asleep except for one person. Sophia’s still chatting at their group chat (their “project” group chat), they were telling her to go to this party with them. They want to celebrate. Sophia was hesitant with this decision, telling them that she was about to sleep and she can’t go because her parents would be mad, but they suggested that Sophia should sneak out of her bedroom window and they’ll see her outside of her front porch. 

At first, she laughed it off. But deep down, a part of her wanted to say yes. Just this once. Just to feel something that was hers. With one last push of her “friends”, she got up and quietly picked out what she would wear and told them to meet her at the front porch. Sophia was no good at sneaking out since this was her first time doing it. Her so-called friends told her every move to what to do when to sneak out, she built a body fort of herself, she quietly opened her window—she was thankful that her bedroom floor was on the second floor near a tree. Her hands trembled as she climbed down, careful to avoid the house’s security cameras.

When she hit the ground, she didn’t even look back. She hurriedly went to her friends who were waiting for her at the said location. For the first time, she felt...free. Nervous but free. As she reached the party, everything became overwhelming—the flashing lights, the strong smell of cheap beer and sweat could be smelled outside. Before she could protest, The group dragged her inside the house, laughing. 

She was handed a cup of beer, the person that handed her encouraged her into drinking by bringing the cup onto Sophia’s lips. “Cheers, Laforteza,” she said. Both of them drank—one with a satisfied expression and the other disgusted. That person elbowed Sophia following a laugh, “C’mon you’ll warm up with the taste once you always get the taste of it”. So Cup after cup. Her head spun. Her cheeks burned.

Sophia didn’t know how many she drank, but she knew that it was enough to knock her down. She brought the cup down on a table and found herself a room or even a couch to sit herself down. She was not feeling well, everything was feeling too hot, too dizzy, too blurry. One of her friends sat down beside her “See? This isn’t so bad, you just need to trust us and have fun along the way” they groggily said and passed out right after. 

Sophia couldn’t even respond.

She blacked out.

The morning after was no good—a ton of missed calls from her parents, her friends were still knocked out, and she has no idea where she is and how she’ll go home. Sophia was in a state of panic, and didn't know what to do. She wanted to call her parents first, thinking of a lie that they’ll believe. As they picked up the call Sophia’s heart rate was picking up too. 

Sophia didn’t get to defend herself or even tell her where she’s at; when she heard her mom’s voice yelling, telling her to go home or she’ll get punished. Sophia stood up from the couch she was sitting on and gathered her things. She was about to wake up one of her friends, but when she looked around these were not the people she arrived with last night. Her friends were nowhere in sight, the living room was just full of strangers. 

She sat there, panic crawling up her throat.

They left her there. 

A room full of strangers. 

A place she doesn’t know. 

She sighed out in defeat, thinking that she might as well tell her parents where she’s at and just accept their punishment. Before she could think of ringing them again, her phone buzzed. Kuya. She jumped out of the couch quickly when her brother said that he was outside at her location. She looked out the window and there’s her savior—inside the black mustang and gesturing to her to come hurriedly. Sophia ran to the door and ran towards the parked car. 

The car ride to their home was her keep on ranting about what happened. 

Of course, her brother scolded her. He didn’t yell. Not yet. He just ran the whole way back.

Told you so. Drop them. They’re a bad influence. Don’t you see what they did to you?

She barely listened. She was too busy replaying everything in her head.

When they arrived home, Sophia prepared herself. She took a deep breath. Steeled her nerves.

But nothing could prepare her for the way her mother looked at her. Fire in her eyes. Disappointment. Rage. Fear. All of it rolled into one.

“Where were you?!” her mom yelled. Sophia bowed her head down, trying her best not to get affected by how her mother screamed at her. “Alalang-alala kami, Sophia!” her father shouted, his voice louder than she’d ever heard it.

Sophia knew that she cannot defend herself in this situation. She either lies or tells them the truth and accepts whatever punishment they are going to give her. She was about to say it, tell them that she sneaked out of the house, and went to a party without their permission. She was gonna tell the truth, but that wasn’t the words she said to them. Lies spewed out of her mouth, telling them that ““I was tutoring... I fell asleep at her house.”

Her mom looked at her brother for confirmation, searching his eyes. He nodded, silently backing her lie. Sophia looked at him, eyes filled with gratitude and guilt.Sophia’s parents dismissed her brother, but let her stay there, so now she was left with them in their living room. Sophia’s mom sat down on the couch rubbing her temples as an attempt to calm her nerves down while her dad sighed out and looked at her daughter. 

“Sophia. Pack your bags. You’re transferring to a new school. Somewhere private. Secluded. You are already being a rebel. We already told you disobeying us can cause you a punishment” her father said. 

Her mouth fell open. “What? Just because I snuck out?!”

Her mom stood up, “you sneaked out, you barely keep your grades up, and now you’re yelling and talking back? This isn’t the Sophia we raised. You need proper discipline. Pack your bags now. Your brother will take you tomorrow” she said in the most calm way.

She stormed to her room, furious and heartbroken, she flopped to her bed and rethought what’s happening to her. She’s not the person she is right now. The Sophia she knew doesn’t sneak out, doesn’t involve herself into peer pressure, and especially doesn’t lie to her parents. 

She screamed into her pillow. 

She doesn’t want a new school. She doesn’t want to start all over again. 

But she had no choice  so she got up and went to her closet started packing her belongings, 

The next day.

The ride to her new school was too quiet for her liking. Her older brother was driving and the younger one is clinging to her and feels like won’t let go anytime soon. Sophia thought it would be another school in a city where she could refresh her life all over again, thinking that her parents agreed for her to have her own space and dorm room, but when she opened her eyes, she saw trees. mountains. barely any buildings.

The car came to a halt indicating that they’ve reached the school. Sophia looked out the car window—the school looked old enough, minimal students were only to be seen, and nuns were all over the school grounds. 

They got out of the car—Sophia being hesitant

A Catholic school.

She felt like the air got sucked out of her lungs.

She had never been in a place like this.

Strict didn’t even begin to describe it.

She stepped out of the car slowly, got her things and looked at her brothers one last time. Her younger brother ran to her “Ate, i’ll miss you po.” he cried while hugging her. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back before the break” she said reassuring him while hugging him tightly. 

Her older brother ruffled her hair.

“Soph, try to pick your friends right this time, ha. Don’t let them influence you into bad things” Her older brother advised. She nodded, swallowing back her tears. “I’ll miss you both. Take care of bunso for me, ha.”

And with that, Sophia turned to face her new beginning.

She headed to her dorm room, suitcase in one hand and exhaustion weighing down the other. Her first day at this new, secluded Catholic school had already drained her—mentally and emotionally. She just wanted to lie down and forget the world existed. But when she pushed the door open, she didn’t expect to see anyone yet—let alone someone standing in the middle of the room with smudged black ink all over their uniform, fingers, and even a streak on their cheek.

You turned to face her, grinning as if you weren’t an absolute mess.

“Hi, roomie! I’m Y/N L/N,” you chirped, voice bright and welcoming. “I’d hug you, but... I’m kind of in a situation right now, so your hug will be arriving later!”

Your energy caught her off guard.

Sophia blinked. For a split second, she fought a smirk, but it never fully formed. Instead, she shook her head lightly, walked to the nearest bed, and started setting her things down without a word.

You disappeared into the shared bathroom shortly after, changing out of your ink-stained clothes and washing your hands.When you stepped back out, you spotted her unpacking, moving around in quiet, efficient motions. Her silence filled every corner of the room, like it had weight.

You cleared your throat, trying to ease the weird tension lingering between the two of you.

“I didn’t get your name, roomie,” you said, casually cleaning your desk. 

She didn’t even pause what she was doing.  

Sophia sighed out, thinking that you won’t stop bothering her unless she gave you a name. “Sophia” she said shortly—barely sparing you a glance. There was a little hint of annoyance in her tone, like she was already done with this conversation before it even started.

But you nodded at her short response, unfazed. You had a feeling she was the guarded type—and those were always the most interesting. 

So, being you, you kept on asking her some questions. Not in an annoying way, but with real curiosity. Something about her just pulled at you—the way she moved, the way she didn’t meet your eyes, the way she seemed like she wanted to disappear.

You started simple: her age, where she was from, what school she went to before. She answered all of them, clipped and cold, but you didn’t mind. As long as she answered, that was good enough for you.

Then your curiosity got the best of you. "so…what made you transfer here so suddenly?” you questioned her, not realizing how that one question would shift everything.

Her hands stilled on the edge of her drawer.

She didn’t look up.

You could feel the energy change.

Her walls came up before she even opened her mouth.

“What’s with the interrogation?” she snapped, her voice sharp and defensive. “Do you ask everyone that, or just me?”

You froze, surprised by the bite in her words.

You raised your hands slightly in surrender. “Hey—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. I was just curious. I’ll give you some space. You didn’t wait for her response. Instead, you grabbed your phone and slipped out of the dorm room, gently closing the door behind you.

Back inside, Sophia stood frozen for a moment, staring at the door. Then she slowly walked to her bed and collapsed onto it.

Why did I snap like that?

Sophia didn’t know want came over. It wasn’t like her to just snap at someone with just a simple question. She didn’t even know you, and yet she reacted like you were trying to hurt her. It wasn’t a hard question. It wasn’t meant to cut deep. But still, her chest felt tight, like her past was a wound that hasn't healed yet—and you just touched it without knowing.

She didn’t mean to drive you away. But she didn’t know how to be close to anyone anymore. Not after what happened.

Not after what it cost her.

The night grew quiet. Hours passed. The other dorms dimmed their lights. Sophia remained on her bed, back turned toward your empty one. She figured you’d decided to crash at a friend’s room—or maybe you decided to ask for a room reassignment already.

But then the door creaked open.

It was soft—barely a sound.

She heard the light shuffle of shoes across the wooden floor. Someone tiptoeing. Trying not to be noticed.

“You know I’m still awake, right?” Sophia said into the dim light.

You froze mid-step and chuckled awkwardly, turning toward her bed.

“Of course I know that,” you said, giving her a sheepish smile.

Sophia reached over and switched on her side lamp. The room glowed a warm yellow, and she finally got a good look at you—your clothes were all wrinkled and dirtied up, Sweat beaded on your forehead, and your breathing was a little off. 

She blinked. “Where were you? And why the hell do you look like that?”

You gave her a crooked grin, clearly trying not to laugh.

“Well... I might’ve pulled a prank on one of the teachers. And then I ran for my life. So, you know—standard Wednesday.” you said. 

Sophia stared at you.

Yup.

Troublemaker.

Just her luck.

Even if it’s Sophia’s first day here she knew you were a trouble maker. Exactly the kind of person she didn’t want to be near—not anymore. Not after what that kind of recklessness cost her. The room fell into another silence. You stood awkwardly near your bed, sensing the tension again.

Sophia wanted to say something. To apologize. To tell you she didn’t mean to be so cold earlier. 

But the words caught in her throat.

So before things got weirder, you broke the moment and quietly headed to the bathroom to shower and change. Sophia watched you walk away, her eyes lingering on the empty space you left behind.

She shook her head, turned off her lamp, and laid down again.

This was going to be a long year.

Sophia’s first day at her new school was…a disaster.

From the moment she stepped outside the dorms, she felt like she’d been thrown into a maze with no map, no clue, and no escape. The hallways all looked the same—endless rows of classrooms with strange numbering systems. She clutched her schedule tightly, her knuckles pale, trying to make sense of where she was supposed to be.

Room 3C-205.

Where on earth was that?

She turned another corner, only to end up back where she started. Again. She wandered aimlessly through the school hallways, clutching her crumpled schedule in one hand, eyes darting from one door to the next. Her steps grew faster, more frantic. Everything felt too big, too wide, too overwhelming. The buildings stretched endlessly, and every hallway looked the same. She kept circling back to where she started, like some cruel joke the school was playing on her. Her frustration simmered in her chest, threatening to spill over.

Hindi ko na ‘to kaya. (i can’t do this anymore)

She wanted to ask someone for directions, but the halls were empty. Not a single soul in sight. Just the faint hum of fluorescent lights and the echo of her own footsteps. Her chest tightened. She was lost. Late. And already exhausted—and it wasn’t even noon.

Eventually, she gave up and dragged herself outside. She found a shady spot under one of the large trees near the campus center and sat down heavily, hugging her bag to her chest. The breeze offered a little comfort, but not enough to wash away the growing frustration in her chest. She stared at her room assignments again, but the list may as well have been in another language. Nothing made sense.

She was on the verge of giving up when a familiar voice cut through the silence.

"Are you cutting classes on your first day, Ms. Laforteza?"

It was you.

There you were—Wearing the same uniform, with your shirt slightly untucked like you didn’t really care, your backpack carelessly slung over one shoulder, grinning like the universe decided Sophia needed just one more thing to deal with. She let out an annoyed huff, not even trying to hide the exasperation on her face.

Of course, it had to be you.

She narrowed her eyes on you. “You have too much free time.”

“You’re not happy to see me, roomie?” you asked, tilting your head and giving her that mock-sad expression. She rolled her eyes and muttered something under her breath, refusing to meet your gaze. Her eyes stayed glued to her schedule, as if staring at it long enough would suddenly reveal the answer she needed.

 "You know," you said, peering over her shoulder, "with that attitude, I might just leave you here."

"I’m not stopping you."

"Oof. Ice cold, Laforteza."

She sighed again and looked down at her schedule. The letters swam in front of her eyes. Maybe she was stupid for thinking she could handle this on her own.

You leaned in a little, reading her paper. “Ahh. 3C-205. That’s on the other side of campus.”

She groaned. “Of course it is.”

“But lucky for you…” you said, standing up and brushing imaginary dust off your pants, “I know a shortcut.”

She side-eyed you. "Are you seriously gonna help me, or are you just planning to lead me to some broom closet as a prank?" 

You clutched your chest in mock offense. “Wow. I do not do that to my fellow schoolmates. I’m offended.”  

Sophia gave you a suspicious look and didn’t answer, then sighed—long and deep. She already knew she was absent for her first class, and now she was stuck talking to you. What a great start.

You gasped, mock-offended. “Wow. Is that what you think of me?” 

She didn’t answer, just stared at you, clearly unconvinced.

"Okay, fair. But I promise this time I’m actually being helpful," you said, grinning.

You held out your hand to her. She looked at your hand, then up at your face. For a second, she hesitated. Her pride whispered don’t—but eventually, she took it. Your fingers were warm against hers, steady. Solid. Something she really needed right now.

“C’mon. I’ll take you there.” you told her. 

Sophia looked at you with hopeful eyes. She slung her bag over her shoulder and followed you, her steps small and unsure. Like a lost puppy, trailing behind the one person who seemed to know where to go.

The walk was long, winding through corners and stairwells she wouldn’t have dared explore alone. You walked ahead but always looked back, slowing down when she lagged behind, throwing in jokes every now and then to try and get a reaction out of her. Finally, you both arrived at her classroom. She peeked inside, ready for the worst—but to her relief, she was excused for being late.

You turned to her with a lopsided grin. “I’ll wait for you here later, okay? I’ll walk you to your next class.”

She blinked, surprised. “Seriously?”

You nodded. “Seriously.”

For the first time that day, she smiled—just a little—and gave you a quiet “thank you.”

As she slid into her seat and watched you walk away, she let out a small sigh, her shoulders finally relaxing.

Maybe…you weren’t so bad after all.

It had been like that for the past few weeks—an unspoken routine forming between you and Sophia. Every day after class, you’d walk her to her assigned room before dashing off to yours. You didn’t mind being late. Not if it meant making sure she got there safely. Not if it meant giving her a small sense of comfort in a place that once felt just as suffocating to you.

You weren’t trying to be a hero. You just didn’t want her to feel what you did on your first few days here—alone, overwhelmed, and quietly drowning in the noise of unfamiliar walls. You weren’t just a troublemaker. You weren’t just some nosy roommate. You wanted her to know that she wasn’t invisible. Not to you.

When the bell rang, the hallways flooded with students. You stood outside her classroom, eyes darting left and right, searching for the Filipina and once you saw her your whole face lit up, 

“Soph!” You called out, eyes lighting up like they always did when you saw her. You waved like a maniac, grinning so wide your cheeks ached. 

Sophia let out a long-suffering sigh and rolled her eyes, clearly mortified. “Grabe ka,” she muttered, especially when she noticed a few students turning to look at her with amused expressions and questioning looks. 

She stalked over to you, arms crossed. “What do you want?”

You smirked, hands in your pockets like you weren’t dying to see her all day. “Thought you needed some company on the way to the dorms. You know, in case you get lost again.”

She scoffed, smacking your shoulder lightly with a rolled-up test paper. “You’re so funny, no?” she said dryly. “And it was one time, okay?”

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of you at the memory.

That “one time” had been right before the midterm  quizzes. the two of you went on separate ways to review for the upcoming  quizzes–you were in the dorm and she was in the library. It was currently 9pm, lights-out approaching fast, but Sophia still hadn’t come back. Concerned, you grabbed a hoodie and headed out to find her. 

First, you checked the library. Nothing. Then under the big tree near the garden. Still no sign. Just when you were about to give up and report her missing to the dorm head, you spotted someone speed walking around the hallway, books clutched tight against their chest, hair messed up, And there it was—that familiar keychain dangling from a backpack.

‘Sophia!” you yelled, relief washing over you like a wave.

She turned, eyes wide and dazed. “Oh my God,” she whispered, jogging up to you. Her voice was groggy, like she’d just woken up.

“Where the fuck are you going?” you asked, grabbing her books before they tumbled from her hands.

“I-I actually don’t know. I feel like I’m still asleep,” she mumbled, and you let out a soft laugh, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and steering her back.

“Stupid,” you teased, bumping your shoulder against hers. “You probably just drooled on your notes and passed out.”

“Excuse me!” she protested, pinching your side as you both laughed. “I reviewed, okay? I just… maybe fell asleep after,” she grumbled, cheeks pink.

You teased her the entire walk back, and she rolled her eyes so much you swore they’d get stuck. But you noticed it—that tiny smile she tried to hide. The way her footsteps fell in sync with yours. The way her voice softened just a little when she said your name.

Since then, Sophia had started opening up, piece by piece. She still had walls, of course. Tall ones. But there were cracks now, and you were careful with every step, not wanting to push too hard. She wasn’t as snappy as she used to be, though she still threw in an eye-roll or sarcastic jab now and then—like muscle memory.

You didn’t mind. That was her way of saying she was comfortable. That she trusted you enough to be herself.

Sometimes, she’d lean against your shoulder when you both sat on the dorm hallway floor, eating snacks you smuggled from the cafeteria. Sometimes, she’d quietly slip you a candy bar in class when she noticed you skipping breakfast again. Sometimes, she’d just be there—without needing to say anything.

And those moments? Those moments meant everything.

She was still guarded. Still afraid to go through what she went through in her last school. You didn’t ask what happened—you figured she’d tell you when she was ready. But you could see it in her eyes, in the way she hesitated to let people in.

So you waited. You stayed. And you walked her to her room every day like it was your religion.

Because she wasn’t just a roommate anymore.

She was Sophia.

And you were starting to care more than you were ready to admit.

The next day brought heavy rain, the kind that drowned out every other sound, like the world was trying to quiet itself down. You and Sophia had Botany together—same class, same schedule. That’s why the two of you found yourselves in the greenhouse earlier than usual, the warm scent of soil and leaves wrapping around you like a blanket.

It wasn’t raining when you first got there. The sky was overcast, sure, but calm. You were both flipping through your notebooks, talking about anything but Botany. Then the rain started. First, just a soft drizzle tapping on the glass above you. Then it turned angry—loud, relentless, with thunder rolling in like a war drum.

The first crack of lightning didn’t faze you. But Sophia? She flinched. You saw it out of the corner of your eye—how her shoulders jumped, how her grip on her pen tightened.

You snorted. “Seriously? You’re scared of lightning?”

Another rumble followed, louder this time, and Sophia slowly stepped closer. Without saying anything, she grabbed your arm.

“Really? And You’re scared of thunder?” you teased, a grin playing on your lips.

She pinched your side in response. “Oh shut up, it’s a scary sound,” she muttered, just before another flash lit up the sky. She ducked again, covering her ears tightly, her eyes squeezing shut like it would make the noise go away.

You couldn’t help but soften. She looked so out of place—this composed, intimidating Laforteza, suddenly reduced to a girl hiding from the storm.

Rain started to pour heavier, the kind that seeps into your bones and drenches you no matter where you stand. “Let’s go, we’ll get sick if we don’t retreat,” you said, pulling her towards a covered part of the greenhouse.

She didn’t argue, just grabbed her things and followed you. But it was too late—your clothes were soaked through, notebooks dripping, your shoes squelching with every step. Even your phones weren't spared.

You spotted a small lost and found box near an old bookshelf, and rummaged through it like it held treasure. Jackpot: a used sweater, some pants, and a worn-out shirt. You tossed the shirt at her first.

“Dry yourself off first. Then change into these,” you said, holding out the sweater and pants.

She gave you a look. A very unimpressed one. “I’m not wearing used pants and a sweater that probably smells like a stranger,” she said, eyebrows raised.

You rolled your eyes. “Well, would you rather get sick and miss your perfect attendance award?” you replied with mock seriousness.

She glared but snatched the clothes from your hand anyway, muttering under her breath. Luckily, the greenhouse had foggy windows and was far enough from campus. She turned her back, started changing, and after a minute said, “Okay na.”

You turned—and instantly burst into a laugh. The sweater was way too big, the pants comically short.

“Don’t laugh at me,” she grumbled, scratching at the sweater's collar.

“I’m not,” you said, lifting your phone and snapping a quick photo when she wasn’t looking. You tucked it away with a grin. You’d keep that one forever.

It took a couple of hours before the rain finally stopped. You both ran back toward the dorms, feet splashing in puddles, laughing in between shivers. Your teeth were already chattering when you reached your room.

“You’re already shivering. You should’ve used the sweater,” she said, helping you onto your bed, concerning replacing her usual smug expression.

Sophia, now back in her usual uniform, grabbed a warm towel, a bottle of water, and some medicine from your drawer. She moved like she’d done this before, like taking care of someone came naturally.

“If I knew you get sick this easily, I would’ve let you take the damn clothes,” she said, handing you the medicine with a frown.

You gave her a cheeky grin. “If I told you, you wouldn’t have taken the clothes,” you said, then coughed right after.

She rolled her eyes at you, but you could see the smile she was fighting at the corners of her lips.

She glanced at the time, then looked back at you. “Go to your next class,” you told her, waving her off weakly. “I can take care of myself.”

But she just shook her head. “I'm not going anywhere,” she said softly, sitting down at the edge of your bed. Then, without warning, she slipped under the covers beside you.

“I know you wouldn’t leave me either if I got sick,” she added, her voice even quieter this time.

And that was it. The rest of the night passed in warmth, in quiet coughs and soft laughter. You teased her about the sweater again. She told you to shut up—again—but didn't stop smiling.

It wasn’t much. Just a storm, just wet clothes and shared medicine. But somehow, it felt like a shift. Like something between you two had quietly changed, and neither of you wanted to name it yet.

It was Saturday Night, No Homeworks. No Projects. 

It was a quiet night for the two of you—or at least, it should’ve been quiet. For Sophia, it was. But not for you, not when your ears were full of sound—random OPM tracks playing one after another, all from the playlist Sophia made and swore you’d love if you just gave it a chance. You had your headphones on, slightly bobbing your head as your fingers danced through your playlist, cleaning it up and curating a new one at the same time.

Beside you, Sophia sat with her legs curled up, her attention focused on a book you lent her. Something you swore she’d like the same way she swore you’d like the songs. Every now and then, her eyes would skim the words, but you—unknowingly—were stealing some of that focus away. You were beside her, completely in your own world, your fingers lightly tapping the air like you were playing invisible drums, caught up in the beat. No care in the world. Just you and the music.

At first, Sophia didn’t mind. She barely noticed. But when your air-drumming got a little more enthusiastic, she finally glanced your way—and what she saw made her softly laugh under her breath. You didn’t hear it. You were too far gone in whatever song was playing. She shook her head a little, amused. You looked ridiculous.

And yet…adorable.

She couldn’t believe you were actually into the songs. I mean, you of all people? The same person who said, “What’s this? I won’t even understand the song, so what's the point?” The same person who swore she wouldn’t even last a single track. But then Sophia gave you that look—those soft, half-pleading eyes that were impossible to say no to—and you sighed, giving in with a grumbled, "Fine. One song only."

But one song became two. Then three. Then an entire night of scrolling, downloading, organizing. Somehow, the lyrics—even the ones you didn’t understand—still found a way to hit you somewhere deep. It was weird, but in a good way. You didn’t question it too much. You just… felt it.

From her side of the bed, Sophia watched you, head tilted slightly, book forgotten on her lap. You looked absolutely ridiculous with the air drumming and the small, almost imperceptible smile on your face, but there was something about you—something—that made her heart feel like it was flipping over and over in her chest.

Ano ba ‘to? she thought to herself, her brows furrowing slightly. She had never felt this before. This strange, giddy, stupidly warm feeling in her chest. And maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was that shallow.

But maybe it wasn’t.

She didn’t realize she’d been staring too long until you turned, pulled your headphones off, and raised your eyebrows at her.

“What?” you asked, your voice slightly louder than usual, still half in that echoing world of music.

Sophia blinked, caught red-handed, and immediately looked back down at the book. “Wala,” she muttered, flipping a page she hadn’t read. “You looked like a crazy person kanina.”

She said it casually, but the way her cheeks turned this soft, subtle shade of pink betrayed her completely.

You didn’t say anything at first. Just looked at her. And maybe, just maybe, you smiled a little too.

Sophia thought she was finally free. She really believed she had escaped the eyes that were always watching. The eyes that followed her every move, judged her every choice, and kept her from living the way she wanted to. To the outside world, she had everything—status, a name, a life people admired. But no one really understood how suffocating it was to live under that kind of pressure.

When she transferred to this school, she thought things would be different. That the weight she carried would finally lift. That she could finally just… exist. No one criticizing her. No one controlling her. For the first time, she hoped she could live without tiptoeing around expectations.

But she thought wrong.

Every move she made. Every breath she took. Every word she said—still found its way back to her parents. As if the walls could talk. As if even the trees were whispering about her.

Sophia knew she had to be careful. Especially when she got that text message from her mom. It was just a short one, sent while the two of you were laughing about something silly out in the courtyard. A warning, hidden beneath the usual “we’re just concerned.” A subtle reminder to watch who she was spending time with. You glanced at her and teased, “What’s that? Your boyfriend?” And she just laughed, shaking her head, putting her phone back into her pocket. She didn’t even reply.

She thought it was the same old thing again. Her mom being protective. A little paranoid. Maybe it was about what had happened before—something Sophia didn’t like talking about. But this time felt different. This time, it felt like someone really was watching.

Another message came later, when the two of you were lying under the old tree near the gym. The breeze rustled softly through the branches above, everything felt still. Peaceful. She opened her phone, and there it was—cold, sharp, and unapologetic: “You’re there to be a proper young lady, not to run around with girls who act like boys and confuse friendship with something else.”

She stared at the screen for a long time.

Confused. Hurt. A little angry.

Her eyes swept over the area, suddenly aware of every corner. Her heart started to race. Was someone watching them? Reporting back to her parents? She scanned the hallways, the benches, the windows—anyone. Anything. But all she saw was you, looking at her with worry, your hand reaching for her arm gently.

“Are you okay?” you asked quietly.

She nodded, but her smile didn’t reach her eyes. There was worry written all over her face, no matter how hard she tried to hide it.

Still, she didn’t reply to the message.

She turned her phone on Do Not Disturb and shoved it deep into her bag. She didn’t want to deal with it. Not now. Not when she was finally starting to feel safe. Not when she was finally starting to feel something real.

She told herself it was just her mom’s instincts again. The same overprotective habits that had kept her locked up for so long. Always controlling. Always expecting the worst.

But deep down, something tugged at her.

Because what if it wasn’t just instinct this time? What if someone really was watching?

It was a week before midterms, and Sophia had been tearing herself apart trying to keep up. Every time you saw her, she either had her head buried in a book or was passed out from exhaustion. She’s not resting anymore. You couldn’t even remember the last time you saw her smile, much less eat at the cafeteria with everyone else.

Lately, you only saw her during class or in your shared dorm room, and even then, her presence felt like a ghost passing through. She barely spoke, barely looked up. The Sophia you knew—soft-spoken but warm, sharp but gentle—was slipping through the cracks.

You were worried. And more than that, you missed her.

So you came up with a plan.

Something simple, something quiet. Something that felt like her.

You set up a picnic blanket in one of the school’s hidden spots—an old greenhouse behind the art building that hardly anyone went to anymore. It was where you always went when everything started feeling too loud. A place that reminded you to breathe.

You brought her favorite snacks, those little sweet things she liked to sneak during study sessions. You set up your portable speaker with a playlist she once said made her feel like the world paused for a moment. A few small fairy lights too, just enough to soften the shadows.

Everything was ready.

You waited in your dorm room, pacing just a bit. It was close to lights out, and you were hoping no one would notice the two of you slipping away. It wasn’t a big deal, but if someone found out, you knew Sophia’s parents would hear about it.

The door creaked open.

Sophia walked in, looking like she was about to fall apart. Her eyes were rimmed with fatigue, dark circles beneath them, and her skin was pale under the dorm's dull lighting. Her arms were full of books, heavy like the weight she carried on her shoulders.

You stood up quickly, walking over to help her unload her things onto her desk. You saw the way her lips barely moved, how her body swayed like she might collapse if she stopped moving.

You hesitated.

Maybe she needed rest more than anything. Maybe you were being selfish. What if all she wanted was to sleep?

You stood there for a second too long, unsure of what to say.

Sophia tilted her head, concern in her eyes. “Hey? You okay there? I kinda lost you for a second.”

You hadn’t even realized she was talking. She was telling you how drained she was—how she already felt defeated before the exams even started. You nodded slowly, steadying your voice.

“Soph,” you started, careful, quiet. “Do you want to go somewhere? Just… a place to breathe for a bit?”

She blinked at you, confused. “What? Where exactly?”

You explained softly—that it was a spot you found during your first week, when everything was overwhelming and nothing felt safe. You told her it became your haven, the one place that didn’t feel like the walls were closing in.

She looked at you for a moment, her eyes softening, until she glanced at the clock.

“How are we even going to get there? It’s already lights out,” she said.

“We have to sneak out.”

That’s when something shifted.

You didn’t know what changed, but you felt it. The air in the room got heavier, like a storm waiting to break. Sophia stepped back slightly, her expression faltering.

Her voice was lower now. “I…I don’t think I can do that again.”

You didn’t push. You waited.

She sat down on the edge of her bed, staring at her hands. “The last time I snuck out, things got bad. I got caught. I got in trouble. And worse…I was left alone. They left me. I don’t want to be left again.”

Her voice cracked on the last word.

You crouched down in front of her, gently placing your hand over hers. “You won’t be,” you said, quietly but firmly. “I’m not going to leave you, Sophia. And I’m not going to get you in trouble. We’ll be careful. I promise.”

There was silence for a while.

And then—she nodded.

The two of you slipped out of the dorms, careful with your steps and breathless with the quiet thrill of it all. You led her through the school grounds, down the path you knew by heart. When you reached the spot, you watched her eyes take in everything.

The picnic blanket spread out with soft pillows. The warm glow of fairy lights. A few potted plants lining the edges. The stars above, clearly visible through the glass ceiling of the old greenhouse, glittering like they were waiting for the two of you.

Sophia stepped into the space slowly, as if afraid it would disappear if she moved too fast.

“It’s beautiful,” she said, almost in a whisper.

You sat down beside her, offering her food, and for the first time in days, you heard her laugh. It was quiet and tired, but real.

You didn’t talk about exams. Not once.

Eventually, when the silence settled between you comfortably, you found yourself speaking.

You told her how you ended up in this school—how you had your own past you didn’t like to revisit. How being left alone wasn’t just something you hated, it was something that haunted you. That sometimes, even when people said goodbye, the echo of their absence stayed louder than anything else.

She looked at you, eyes soft and a little glassy. “I’m sorry,” she said, taking a deep breath. “For what happened to you.”

Then she told you her story—not all of it, not yet, but enough. Enough to understand the girl behind the silence. The pressure. The rules. The fear of being seen and punished for simply trying to live.

The quiet stretched between you again, not heavy, but calm.

After a while, you stood up and reached out your hand to her, smiling just a little. “Dance with me?”

Sophia looked up at you, a little caught off guard. “Now?”

“I’ve never gotten to dance with someone at prom,” you said. “And you look like you owe yourself a moment like this.”

As cliché as it was, she took your hand. And under the stars, with music playing low and the world stripped of its noise, the two of you danced. No big moves, no twirls, just quiet steps and held gazes. Just closeness.

Just presence.

The test results were finally out, and Sophia felt like she was drowning in her own thoughts. Her chest was tight, her palms cold, and her stomach in knots. Anxiety clung to her like a second skin, and no matter how much she tried to focus, her mind kept spiraling. What if I failed? What if I messed this up? What if they make me transfer schools again because of one stupid score?

When the paper was handed to her, she couldn’t bring herself to open it at first. Her fingers trembled slightly as she held onto the folded test sheet like it held her fate. She inhaled deeply, a silent prayer running through her mind—please, please don’t let it be bad.

And then, with hesitant hands, she opened it.

90%.

A breath escaped her lips. Relief washed over her like a wave, and for a moment, she felt the weight lift. It was the score she hoped for—enough to make herself proud. Maybe even enough to show her parents she was trying.

With a flicker of hope, Sophia decided she’d call them. She wanted to share this moment, to tell them she was doing fine, maybe even hear them say they were proud of her. As the bell rang and the halls flooded with chatter, she made her way quickly back to the dorm.

The room was empty. You weren’t there. Perfect timing.

She sat on her bed and dialed, her heart still fluttering with a mix of nerves and excitement. The phone rang once… twice… then someone picked up.

“Hi, Ma! Hi, Pa!” she greeted, her voice bright, her tone warm and upbeat.

Her parents, sensing the joy in her tone, matched her energy—or at least tried to.  “I just wanted to update you… things are going okay. My roommate’s actually really cool, and I got a 90 on my midterm—”

A long pause. Her mother’s voice cut through, sharp and cold.

“A 90?”

Sophia blinked. “Yeah. I know it’s not perfect, but I’ve been studying really hard and—”

Her mother didn’t let her finish.

“Ninety? That’s it? You call that improvement? You’re in college now, Sophia. Bakit parang high school level parin ang mga grades mo?”

Sophia’s smile faltered. Her hand clenched the phone tighter.

“If you keep getting scores like that, don’t bother coming home. Do you hear me?” her mother snapped. “We will disown you. I didn’t raise you for this kind of mediocrity.”

Sophia tried to respond, her lips parting to explain, to say something, anything— “And your roommate,” her mother added, her tone laced with disgust. “Stay away from her.”

“What?”

“She’s not someone you should be around. I don’t care if she’s nice or if she helps you study. She’s a bad influence. Do you even know what kind of person she is? Don’t you know she’s a sinner? You think that’s someone you should trust?”

Sophia’s heart stopped. She couldn't find her voice.

“You're so easily swayed. This is why you're falling behind. Focus on your future, not... her.”

Before she could respond, the line went dead.

Sophia sat there, staring into nothing, phone still to her ear, the silence on the other end louder than anything. Her throat burned. Her hands were cold. The silence in the room grew heavier with each passing second. Her chest tightened again, but this time, not from anxiety—this was hurt. A deep, twisting hurt that made her feel so small.

They didn’t even ask if she was okay.

Tears welled up in her eyes before she could even try to stop them. She curled up on her bed and cried into the pillow, trying to smother the sound of her sobs. She was supposed to meet you for lunch—but now she didn’t even want to leave the room.

The ache in her chest was too much. Her appetite was gone. She stayed curled up under the blanket, her mind replaying the words over and over again. Not enough. Disown. Sinner.

She cried—quiet at first, then louder as everything she had buried started to surface.

She didn’t hear the door open.

“Sophia?”

Her heart skipped. She quickly wiped her tears, sat up, and tried to compose herself, but it was too late.

There you were, standing at the doorway with a tray full of snacks and drinks, grinning—until you saw her face.

Your smile disappeared. You rushed over, leaving the tray on your bed.

“Hey… hey, what happened?” you asked, kneeling beside her.

Sophia just shook her head, eyes cast down. Her lips trembled. She didn’t want to cry in front of you. She never did. She was supposed to be composed, in control. Crying felt like weakness—and weakness was never allowed in her house growing up.

You glanced at her bed: messy books, a crumpled test paper, used tissues, her phone.

“Mahal…” you said softly, reaching for her hand and brushing her hair away from her damp cheeks. “Tell me what happened.”

She tried to hold it in, but the moment you touched her, the dam broke.

“M-my mom… she said my grades weren’t enough,” she whispered, voice cracking, eyes filled with shame.

You nodded gently, encouraging her to let it out, your fingers weaving through her hair as you pulled her close. Her head rested on your chest, and she clung to you like she might fall apart if she let go.

“She said I was useless,” she sobbed, “and if I ever get grades like this again…they’ll disown me.”

Her whole body shook as the words left her mouth. Her tears soaked through your shirt, and her voice—raw, trembling, barely a whisper—was filled with years of hurt she never allowed herself to speak aloud.

You held her tighter.

“Y/n… I don’t want to be disowned,” she said between sobs. “I don’t want to be alone…”

You cupped her face gently, wiping away her tears with your thumbs. “Ssshh… look at me, mahal.” She did, eyes red and swollen. “No one will disown you. And no one—no one—will ever leave you. Not on my watch, okay?”

Sophia leaned back into your arms, letting you wrap her in warmth. You kissed the top of her head softly, your hand rubbing gentle circles on her back.

She never knew comfort like this—only from her younger brother, and even that felt like a secret she wasn’t allowed to need. But here, in your arms, the world was quiet. The pressure, the expectations, the fear… all of it faded.

And for the first time, Sophia felt like she wasn’t just surviving—she was seen.

She didn’t say anything more after that. She didn’t have to. Her head stayed against your chest, your heartbeat grounding her, anchoring her to the present. You stayed like that for a long time, letting the silence be soft and healing.

Then, almost hesitantly, her fingers reached out for the snack tray you brought. She sniffled.

“What… what did you get?” she asked, her voice hoarse but trying to sound normal again.

You smiled, relieved. “Chocolate cake. Milk tea. Your favorites. I had to bribe the vending machine and practically threaten the lady at the bakery to get the last slice.”

A tired laugh slipped out of her—small and shaky, but real. “You’re too nice to me.”

“I’d fight the world for you,” you whispered, serious now. “And your mom, if she keeps talking like that.”

Sophia didn’t respond. She just tucked her head back into your chest, like maybe if she stayed there long enough, the rest of the world would fade.

And for now, that was enough.

Sophia didn’t listen to her mother—not this time. She didn’t stay away from you, and honestly? She didn’t want to. You had already become her safe place, her calm in the chaos that surrounded her every day. For the second time in her life, she defied the rules her parents raised her on. She knew the risks—especially with the eyes her parents kept planted in the school halls—but she didn’t care. Not when it came to you.

The two of you hadn’t even defined what you were to each other. No labels. No promises. Just this unspoken understanding that your feelings were real and blooming quietly in stolen glances and whispered conversations. You were both in no rush to name it—whatever it was. You simply existed together in a kind of sacred secrecy.

Because this school, this Catholic school, didn’t allow space for love like yours.

So everything you did was hidden. Holding hands beneath the cafeteria table. Kissing softly behind the chapel when no one was looking. Cuddling in quiet corners of the library. Every touch had to be calculated. Every look had to be careful.

At first, you didn’t mind the secrecy. You were here because of that again. Your parents had sent you off to this place hoping to “fix” you. Turn you into the perfect straight daughter with impeccable discipline and proper behavior. But somehow, they thought an all-girls school was the answer—which only confirmed how little they actually knew you.

You didn’t expect to find someone like Sophia. Honestly, you thought she was going to be one of those girls—too proper, too soft-spoken, probably a little too perfect. Her family was known, her life looked polished from the outside, and her vibe screamed stay away. Everything about her felt opposite to you. Her clothes, her posture, her carefully measured smiles. And still, she drew you in.

It started small. That first day, she was totally lost, clutching a schedule and scanning the hallway numbers like they were a puzzle. You spotted her from down the hall, looking hilariously confused, and you could’ve helped right away—but you didn’t. Not yet. You pretended you had a different class just to peel off and loop back around later so it looked more casual. You wanted to help, but you didn’t want to seem like you cared. Not too much.

Then there was the cafeteria. She sat alone at lunch, stiff and guarded, picking at her food like it was some chore. Most girls avoided her—maybe it was her resting don’t talk to me face, or maybe they were just intimidated by the last name she carried. But you didn’t care. You sat across from her anyway, not asking for anything, just existing there until she realized you weren’t a threat.

From then on, it built slowly—like music with no beat drop, just a gradual rise in volume until you realized it was surrounding you.

You learned about her little by little. Her favorite snacks. Her weird pet peeves. The way she liked her books organized by color instead of author. How her parents expected her to be this picture-perfect daughter, and how she never really got the chance to feel things on her own terms. You saw the weight she carried—how exhausting it must be to be so controlled, to be so watched all the time. She wasn’t just some rich girl with rules. She was someone who never got to breathe without someone else telling her how.

And God, did you want to protect her from all of it.

You didn’t realize you were falling until it was already happening. It wasn’t some movie moment with swelling violins and fireworks. It was a Tuesday. She was wearing your oversized hoodie, curled up in your bed with the book you recommended, and between her soft humming and the occasional Tagalog lessons she mumbled into your arm, you felt it—the quiet click of something inside you shifting.

It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t even loud.

It was just real.

You started noticing the way she’d lean into you when you were alone, how she’d blush a little whenever you called her something stupidly sweet like sunshine or cutie. She never asked you to stop, even when her cheeks turned red. And when you hung out in secret spots around campus, she’d sit closer. Her fingers would linger. Her eyes would stay on you a little longer than before.

But the moment everything changed?

It was that night in the library.

You found her sitting cross-legged on the floor between two shelves, lost in a novel, lips slightly parted as her eyes scanned the pages like they were secrets. You sat beside her quietly, pretending to read your own book. It was quiet, almost too quiet, so you nudged her. She barely looked up, and when she did, it was only for a second before she returned to her pages.

So you did what anyone would do—you stole her book. She gasped, playful fire in her eyes, and tried to snatch it back. You grinned and told her to follow you to the back where the bean bags were, promising it’d be more comfortable.

She followed.

You both sank into the cushions, backs to the wall, legs stretched out. She slid down until her head was resting on your thigh, your fingers casually playing with the ends of her hair while you read aloud a line or two just to annoy her. Eventually, she gave up on reading and just watched you instead.

You didn’t notice until she sighed—soft and tired.

You looked down, and there she was, her dark brown eyes fixed on you. You set the book aside.

“What?” you asked, barely above a whisper.

She shrugged.

You rolled your eyes. “Use your words, Laforteza.”

But she didn’t answer. Instead, her fingers reached up to trace the faint scar on your eyebrow. Her touch was featherlight, sending chills down your spine.

“It was a stupid accident,” you said, not wanting to get into the whole story about the nuns and your endless list of detentions.

She didn’t laugh. Just kept tracing.

The air felt thick. Too heavy. Too still. You both leaned in, instinctively. Slow, cautious, breath held between the inches of space.

And then—buzz buzz buzz. Her phone.

You both flinched.

She answered it, reluctantly, standing up with a quiet “Sorry.”

But after that night, it was like something shifted.

You didn’t talk about it. Not exactly. But everything between you got... softer. Closer. Sweeter.

She’d rest her head on your shoulder during study hours. You’d sneak snacks into her room on bad days. She started wearing your clothes more often. You started leaving little sticky notes in her books with dumb doodles and inside jokes. You called her mi amore just to see her blush, and she called you makulit like it was the most affectionate word in the world.

And maybe you weren’t officially anything yet. Maybe you were still hiding in quiet corners and exchanging secret smiles in crowded halls.

But you knew.

She was yours.

And you were hers.

Even if the world wasn’t ready.

The next day, you woke up earlier than usual. You didn’t even bother fixing your hair or ironing your uniform perfectly—your focus was set. Today was Sophia’s birthday. You wanted to make it special. Even if the school didn’t allow celebrations, even if it meant breaking the rules again, you didn’t care. You had snuck in a small cupcake the night before, tucked away in your drawer, along with a candle you stole from the chapel's supply room. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

Today was also the day you planned to ask her—to finally ask Sophia to be your girlfriend. You rehearsed what to say in your head a hundred times over. You were going to tell her you loved her. You were ready.

But before anything could happen, your name echoed through the entire school from the PA system.

“Y/N, to the directress' office. Immediately.”

The cupcake in your hands felt heavier all of a sudden. You looked at it one last time before placing it gently on the desk. You didn’t want to get into more trouble than you already were, so you took a deep breath and headed to the office.

When you stepped inside, the air changed.

Nuns surrounded the room like shadows, silent and still, their eyes sharp and unreadable. And there, in the middle, stood Reverend Mother. Her face was stone. No one said a word. Not until she slowly walked up to you.

You opened your mouth to ask what was going on, but you didn’t even get the chance.

Smack!

Your head snapped to the side. A sting bloomed on your cheek, and your knees buckled from shock more than the pain. Before you could react, her hand raised again—

Smack!

Another blow. And another. You didn’t know how many. You didn’t even know why. You just found yourself on the floor, trembling, hands pressed against the cold tiles, the copper taste of blood blooming on your lip. Your cheek throbbed. The nuns remained still, judgmental eyes digging into your skin.

“You are a disgrace!” the Reverend Mother shouted. “Do you even know how many sins you’ve committed?”

You looked up at her through tears. You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t even understand what exactly you were being punished for—at least not out loud.

“You turned a pure, innocent girl into a sinner. You are a disgrace to humanity.”

“I love her,” you choked out. “I did not turn her into a sinner, because i don’t think it was a sin”

Your voice trembled, but you kept going. “It’s not wrong to love someone—even if they’re the same gender. So i-i don’t think it was a sin, because it didn’t feel like a sin. it felt like it was too supposed to be feel” They just stared at you like you were crazy.

Then another slap.

“You don’t speak that way,” she said coldly. “You will be punished for your actions. But for now, you are dismissed.”

She paused at the door and added, “And as for Ms. Laforteza… don’t even think about contacting her. I have a separate punishment in store for that girl.”

You ran back to the dorms with blood on your lip and shame pooling in your chest. You cleaned yourself up the best you could, dabbing at your swollen cheek with a damp towel. You avoided your reflection. You didn’t want to see what they did to you. You didn’t want to see yourself right now.

You lit the candle on the cupcake just in time. When you heard the door open, you stood up fast, trying to hold it all together. Sophia stepped inside—and froze.

You sang anyway, voice shaky, but soft.

Happy birthday to you...

She blew out the candle, and you walked up to her. You saw her glance at your face, about to ask what happened—but then her phone rang.

She tensed. You caught a glimpse of the caller ID.

“Mama.”

She hesitated. Then stepped outside to take the call. You stood there alone, hands still warm from the candle. Heart already cold.

A few minutes passed.

Then you followed her.

The hallway was completely silent—the kind of silence that echoed with every breath. You didn’t know where she went. You didn’t know what you were expecting. But then you heard your footsteps fall down the stairs, fast and heavy.

And there she was.

Sophia Laforteza. Leaning against the wall, phone still glowing in her hand. Like she hadn’t moved in minutes. Her eyes met yours, and—God—you hated that she was crying again. Always crying because of her.

You ran to her and pulled her into a hug. You held her close, your bruised cheek brushing hers.

“It’s okay,” you whispered. “I’m here. We’ll get through this. Together.”

But she didn’t hug you back.

You pulled away slightly. “What happened? What did she say?”

Sophia looked down, her voice small. “She said… she’s giving me one last warning. If I don’t stay away from you, she’s pulling me out. Right away.”

You waited.

You waited for her to say she told her mom that she didn’t care. That she loved you. That she was going to fight for you.

But she didn’t.

“I told her I’d stay away.”

And just like that, something cracked inside you.

“I don’t want to transfer schools again. I can’t.”

You stared at her.

“I fought for us,” you said, your voice barely a whisper. “I got dragged into the directress’s office. I got slapped. Humiliated. I bled. I told them I loved you.”

She didn’t move. Her tears betrayed her, but she didn’t speak.

“And you—you just accepted what your mother said? Just like that? Without even thinking? Like a coward?”

Her tears fell faster, but still—silence.

“You do have a choice, Laforteza. You could’ve shown them that I matter to you. That this,” you gestured between you two, “means something. That loving each other isn’t wrong.”

You took a shaky breath. “But I guess… I was the only one who thought this was worth fighting for.”

Sophia tried to speak. Her lips parted. Her thoughts raced. She wanted to tell you she loved you too—but the words wouldn’t come out. They stuck in her throat like broken glass.

“So that’s it?” your voice broke. “I just told you I love you… and you have nothing to say?”

She opened her mouth.

Nothing.

You shook your head, laughing bitterly. “Alright. I’ll see you in the dorm room then.”

You turned around, walking away, your footsteps echoing through the hallway. Leaving Sophia frozen in place. All alone. With nothing but silence and everything she should have said.

The next day, the sun rose like it always did—quiet and indifferent.

But something felt wrong. Off.

You blinked away the sleep in your eyes and rolled over to check on the other side of the room. That side. Her side.

But Sophia’s bed was empty.

Perfectly made, as if no one had ever touched it. As if she had never been there.

You sat up slowly, the ache in your chest growing heavier with every second. You looked around the room—her books weren’t stacked on the table anymore. Her clothes, usually slung messily over the chair or hanging by the window to dry, were nowhere to be seen. The corner where she kept her favorite lotion, her hairbrush, the half-used bottle of perfume you always teased her about—gone. All of it.

It was like someone had come in during the night and erased her.

No trace of Sophia Laforteza. Not even a note. Not even a goodbye.

You dragged your feet across the cold floor and stood in front of her bed. Your hand hesitated over the blanket, your fingers curling just above the place where she used to sit, where she used to laugh, where she used to fall asleep while talking to you mid-sentence.

And all you could think about was the last time you spoke.

The last time her voice filled this room—it was shaking. She was crying. You were crying. And it wasn’t soft. It wasn’t gentle. You were fighting. You were begging. For her to fight back. For her to choose you.

But she didn’t.

And now she was gone.

Just like that.

Pulled out of the school like it was nothing. Like everything that happened between the two of you didn’t even matter. Like you didn’t matter.

You sat down on the edge of her mattress, swallowing hard. The silence felt louder than it should. There were no soft giggles, no sarcastic remarks, no whispered conversations after lights out. Just you. And the echo of a goodbye that never came.

Your throat tightened as you stared blankly at the wall. You wanted to be angry. You wanted to scream. But more than anything—you just wanted one last moment. One last glance. One last word. Something.

Anything.

But all you had left was the memory of her tears, the weight of your own words hanging heavy between you, and a bed that wasn’t hers anymore.

And outside, the world just kept going. Like she was never even there.

gonna leave you guys with a quote lol: “Some people are just passing chapters, no matter how much you want them to be your whole story. The laughter, the promises, the late-night dreams of forever—they dissolve into silence. And the what-ifs? They haunt. But never regret the love that blossomed between the two of you. It lived, even if it died quietly.”

how'd i do :D??? i hope it stung like i hope it would haha

[wandaslittleweirdo]

A/N: she’s so sweet and momma I can’t :(((. I want to do a part 2 of this with some more smutty stuff or lactation kink, tehe . — masterlist.

tw: age gap > reader is 20 wanda is 36, pet names (sweet girl, dear, angel), a lot of fluffs & wanda spoiling reader !1!1!1!!!!!1!

milfy!librarian!wanda ༝༝ fem!reader

ೀ “You finding everything okay, dear?” She asked softly.

Her eyes had found you from the far side of the room, where you were looking through the reference and special collections section, a notebook and mechanical pencil clutched tightly in your hands.

You wandered back and forth in that same category for almost an hour searching for something of interest. Each time you paused to pull out a book or crouched down to examine the titles on the lower shelves, Wanda’s gaze followed you. When you finally found a book you liked and went to check out, you saw her behind the counter, already watching with small smile on her face.

You had never seen a woman so beautiful in your entire life, and when she offered a little finger wave, the book slipped right out of your hands and hit the floor with a loud thud.

Upon first meeting, you were shy and couldn’t understand why this sophisticated and incredibly attractive older woman would be drawn to a somewhat directionless twenty-year-old girl like yourself. But despite your initial hesitation, her gentle demeanor and effortless charm put you at ease, even as you struggled to speak and stand up properly.

She always made time to ask about your school life, wondering how you were progressing with your studies. She loved the days when you burst through the library doors just as she was about to close up, watching as you would leap into the room with such enthusiasm, practically bouncing on your feet as you proudly announced your latest achievement—an A on a difficult test or a perfect score of 100% on an assignment. Her praises filled the air, and she would beam with pride, celebrating your success as if it were her own.

You could hardly contain your excitement as the soft creak of the library doors would mark your arrival, your heart swelling at the sight of Wanda behind the counter, bathed in the warm, dim glow of a single reading lamp. The library would be empty, and soon you'd hear her sweet, soft voice calling you over, a warm smile on both your faces, knowing a small treat awaited you.

With a twinkle in her eye, she’d reach into her pocket and pull out a small, shiny wrapper that glimmered under the light—a crinkled piece of gold foil. Inside lay a special chocolate, the fancy ones with an intricate swirl design and a tangy raspberry center. It was a little reward for your dedication to studying, calling you ‘her good girl’ as she stroked your cheek or your hair.

She would lean in, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she motioned for you to come behind the counter. "Come here and open your mouth nice and wide for me, sweet girl,"

You never hesitated, eager to hear Wanda hum softly in satisfaction as you obeyed her orders without a second thought. She’d place the chocolate on your tongue, her fingers grazing your lips.

When you would dress up all nice, you would discreetly glance out of the corner of your eye and watch as she left her spot behind the counter, completely forgetting about her duties just to come over and compliment you.

“You look even more beautiful than usual, angel. Did you do something to your hair?”

“Yes! I just styled it a bit.” You said, voice shaking slightly as she reached out to pick up a few of the soft strands.

“Who exactly are you dressing up for, then?” she asked, the words almost biting as they left her lips.

“…You.”

A mix of surprise and delight flashed across her face as she processed your answer. That was the first time you had said something even slightly bold towards her. She let out a soft, nervous chuckle, her cheeks tinged with a delicate blush.

“Oh, that’s great then! I was worried that you had plans for a date after this or something,” she confessed, and your smile grew.

“I promise, I’m only going home after this. I just wanted to look nice for you…”

She would keep the library doors open long into the evening just for you, took a genuine interest in the projects you did on the library computers and often stopped by with encouragement and guidance. She even took the time to understand your reading preferences, carefully selecting books that matched your interests. Whenever new titles arrived, she’d set aside the ones she knew you'd enjoy, creating a special collection just for you.

You once mentioned that you didn’t have your own computer—the second reason you spent so much time at the library. You barely had enough money for college; affording a personal computer was out of the question when the library computers were free and accessible to anyone. In that same conversation, you had also mentioned that your birthday was tomorrow.

The next day, she stopped you with a knowing grin. “I left something for you upstairs,” she said, gesturing toward the far corner of the second floor—your favorite study spot.

When you arrived, your usual table was overflowing with balloons, confetti, and piled with surprises: a brand-new computer wrapped perfectly with a ribbon, a letter stuffed with cash, and three rare, expensive books you’d been wanting for years. And perched at the very top of it all was a single cupcake.

Beside it sat a small note. You took it between your fingers, grinning so wide your cheeks hurt. And then, as your eyes moved over the elegant curves of her handwriting, your heart nearly melted.

“…and a little treat for my favourite girl. Happy birthday—W.M. ♡”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

[wosospacegirl]

fever - kika nazareth

Summary: Kika is sick, and Y/n is falling in love

Word count: 1.2k

Masterlist

a/n: This is a schedule post. I had this fic lying around, but I forgot in what doc it was 💀💀💀

..

It started at training.

Kika had shown up looking ridiculously good–her hair in a messy ponytail, flushed cheeks, sleeves pushed up, all effortless and pretty and… hot. Like, really hot.

Y/n had genuinely stopped in the middle of a rondo to stare. Pina even smacked the back of her head when she lost possession of the ball to the other team… but Y/n couldn’t help it. It had been four whole days since she’d last seen Kika.

Kika had gone on a trip back to Portugal to see her family. She got some time off and decided to enjoy it back in her homeland.

Unfortunately, Kika didn’t think about how much it would affect Y/n… poor girl was getting sadder and sadder each day.

“She looks so pretty,” Y/n whispered to Alexia during their water break, eyes fixed across the pitch as Kika talked with the manager.

“Um… no,” Alexia muttered back. “She looks like she’s about to pass out.”

Y/n blinked. “What?”

But before Y/n could make sense of that, Kika began coughing–a lot. Romeu even put a hand on her back, either for comfort or to actually help.

And then came the sneezes. Y/n counted seven, while Alexia counted eight.

When Kika was done, the tips of her ears were red and her forehead was shiny with sweat, as if coughing and sneezing had taken a toll on her body.

“Flu season,” Alexia said. “She’s probably burning up.”

Y/n, still in complete denial, shook her head. “Nah. She just has... allergies.”

“She just sneezed again,” Alexia said, deadpan, pointing to Kika, who’d just been handed a paper towel to clean her nose.

“I think it was more like a… new form of communication she’s trying.”

“Her neck is red.”

“She’s just—radiating energy.”

“Nena,” Alexia said, now more impatient. “She’s not radiating energy. She’s radiating a fever.”

Y/n gave one last look at Kika, and yeah… she looked bad. The assistant managers had just walked her off the pitch into the hallway that led to the locker room. Guess no training for Kikinha today.

The reason Y/n absolutely didn’t want to believe Kika was sick?

They were supposed to have a date today.

Not a romantic one–just… casual.

A friends-with-benefits-who-are-hungry-and-go-out-to-an-Italian-place kind of date.

But now that Kika seemed to have lost one of her lungs, it looked like those plans were about to change.

Y/n ended up volunteering–casually, definitely not suspiciously–to check in on Kika for the rest of the team.

Kika didn’t even argue when Y/n knocked on the door and let herself into the locker room.

She was slumped on the bench, hoodie pulled over her training kit, legs curled up under her like a sleepy cat.

Her nose was pink. Her eyes looked glassy. Her hair was still in that hot, messy ponytail.

“Hi,” Y/n said, trying to sound casual. Normal. Not worried. Not in love.

Kika sniffled. “Hi.” Her voice was so raspy it made Y/n wince.

“You dying?”

“No, I’m fine,” Kika mumbled, swaying a little as she stood in front of her locker. 

“You’re not,” Y/n said, one hand hovering behind her back in case she stumbled again. “And you’re, like, weirdly warm. I thought it was because you looked… good. But I think you’re just ill.”

Kika gave her a sleepy smile. “You thought I looked good?”

Y/n, tragically, had no comeback. Not a single sarcastic one. “That’s not the point.”

“It’s a little bit the point,” Kika teased, before groaning and pressing a hand to her head.

“You’ve been gone for four days,” Y/n mumbled, brushing a hand over Kika’s back. “I was gonna take you out tonight.”

“Ugh,” Kika groaned. “The pasta.”

“I know. I had my outfit picked and everything.”

Kika sniffled again, tugging Y/n’s sleeve and curling into her more. “I can still go.”

“You can’t even stand.”

“Carry me?”

“No.”

“Piggyback?”

“No.”

“Stretcher?”

Y/n laughed soflty. “You’re delirious.”

Kika turned her face into Y/n’s shoulder. “I’m touch-starved and flu-ridden.”

“I’m taking you home” Y/n finally said, helping her sit up. “No training. No pasta. Just meds, soup, and me bossing you around.”

“Hot,” Kika whispered.

“You are hot,” Y/n mumbled, pressing a hand to her forehead. “Let’s make a quick stop at the infirmary.”

The nurse confirmed it–Kika had a fever of 38.4°C and was sent home with strict instructions to rest.

Y/n, ever the idiot-in-love, offered to stay with her. You know… in case she fell or needed something.

..

That night, Kika was curled up on the sofa with a blanket over her legs, hair messy and cheeks pink, sniffling into a tissue and blinking up at Y/n like she’d never been more adorable.

“Still think I’m hot?” she croaked, voice all raspy.

Y/n handed her water with pink ears. “Honestly? You’re sweating and your nose is red and I think I’m even more into you.”

Kika smiled so softly it made Y/n’s chest ache. “You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah,” Y/n said. “And you’re sick.”

Kika was not usually clingy.  At least, not like this.

Normally, she was composed and soft-spoken–the kind of affectionate that snuck up on you: gentle touches, shy smiles, casual thigh presses on the bench.

But whatever virus had taken over her body had apparently also overridden her emotional regulation.

Because now she was sprawled across Y/n’s lap like a cat, sniffly and half-asleep, one arm wrapped stubbornly around her waist.

“I don’t wanna move,” she mumbled, nuzzling into Y/n’s hoodie like it was a pillow. “You’re comfy.”

Y/n blinked at the wall, hands hovering awkwardly above her. “Okay but… I need to pee.”

“No,” Kika said firmly, burrowing closer. “Stay.”

“This isn’t fair,” Y/n muttered. “You’re burning up, you’re sweaty, and you still smell good. How is that even possible?”

Kika just made a sleepy little noise and tightened her grip.

Y/n had never taken care of a sick person before. She was the one who usually got looked after–stubborn and grumpy when ill, but quietly appreciating the attention.

This?

This clingy, feverish Kika who wanted nothing but popcorn–for some unknown reason–cuddles, and her presence at all times? She didn’t know what to do with it.

“Should I, like… make soup?” Y/n asked out loud.

Kika whined. “No, I don’t like soup.”

“I think sick people need soup, though.”

“Don’t go.”

“I have to get up and make something for you to eat, bebé–like real food.”

“No.”

Kika pulled the blanket up over both of them and held her tighter. “Soup later. You now.”

Y/n’s heart physically ached. “You’re so clingy,” she whispered, brushing sweaty hair off Kika’s forehead. “I didn’t know you got like this when you get sick.”

She ended up texting Alexia, after 30 minutes of staying perfectly still while Kika clung to her even more.

Y/n: what do i do when she’s sick and clingy and adorable and i think i might die

Alexia: You hold her and kiss her dumb forehead and accept your fate.

Y/n: I dont think i ever got to this part before

Alexia: welcome to being in love

Y/n stared at the screen, then at the girl drooling slightly on her hoodie. 

Yeah. She was doomed.

..

Hope you guys liked it!! <3

[bellatrixscurls]

group activities

pairing : fem reader x slytherin gang x golden trio.

warnings : SMUT (in the next chapter), tom can read minds, female reader, reader is a virgin, they’re all infatuated with her, ron and draco are really touchy with each other, reader is a pureblood and a rosier, but no physical characteristics are included.

a/n : please let me know if you enjoyed this, it motivates me to write more and faster. also, i really wanted to include smut in this part, but i didn’t want to rush it and make it bad. love 🤍

────── ☾ ──────

“you don’t look too good” a deep, low voice said from behind you, and you immediately turned to see its owner. not that it was needed.

you hummed, incredulous. “nice to see you too, draco.”

he only laughed at your dismissive attitude and sat down next to you. his eyes scanned the paper you were almost ripping into, and he searched for your gaze, silently asking you to let him look at it. “what kind of idiot would even take muggle studies? it’s optional” he nodded slowly, making you feel even dumber. “you don’t have to take it.”

huffing, you took the paper back and tried your best to ignore him, as if that would make him go away.

“okay, sorry” he mumbled, scratching the tip of his pen against a plain piece of paper, his eyes avoiding yours. “i just. i would’ve never taken it. ever. and take that from someone who’s good at every subject.”

and that made you finally snap. “okay, you’re so good at everything! congrats on that, dimwit!” you spat at him, rolling your eyes as you felt your blood boil. “you think i’d actually take this class on my own accord?! think again.”

draco fell silent at that. you were right, you were a pureblood after all. and your family would go crazy if they found out about you taking this class. so that only left him one option - his eyes lit up. “you like a mudblood” he said with disgust, making a face that you were so familiar with already.

and you wanted to lie to him and tell him it’s not true, but your cheeks reddened and you tried to hide it with your hair, but it was no use. draco knew you like the back of his hand. “oh, merlin!” he stood up from the chair, mouth open wide, but instinctively curling into a scowl when madam pince shushed him.

“which one is it? is it riddle, please say no” “no, draco… why would i even take muggle studies for him? he despises muggle-borns. he doesn’t even like his own grandmother since she’s the reason he’s a halfblood.”

draco made a realisation sound, but his eyebrows furrowed. “you know an awful lot about this guy.”

“i only spend like half of my time with you lot. and mind you, the other half i’m sleeping.”

your words didn’t do anything to him, though. only made him fall deeper into thoughts. why was he comfortable enough with you so that he could be himself, yet you weren’t?

you looked up at him curiously, noticing his nails tugging at the thin skin on his knuckles, and you couldn’t help but place your hand over his, that causing draco to look up at you as well. “what?”

he was visibly more relaxed under your touch, but you could tell that he didn’t expect it. you were not too touchy, especially with him. “do you wanna go back to the common room? you look tired.”

but he shook his head, dragging his chair even closer to yours. “no. no, i’m just fine” he whispered whilst trying his best not to yawn.

you smiled to yourself. he was a cutie when he wanted to be. or when he wasn’t trying so hard to make other people feel bad. “i’ll go with you. i’m done here anyway. i think i’ll try to get help from an actual muggle-born.”

he didn’t really let it show, but he was grateful. either you did it because you were tired too, or for him, he was more than content when you took his hand and dragged him behind you back to the common room.

🤍

yet when you arrived to the common room, with draco basically glued to your side, you almost prayed that it would be quiet. it was anything but that.

loud chatter could be heard all the way down the hallway, and as you whispered the password, you could even distinguish the voices.

“oh, look who’s here!” lorenzo basically threw himself at you two, kissing your cheek and squeezing draco closer to him. yet, he only let go of you, keeping the younger boy wrapped around his body.

you took the opportunity and plopped down on the sofa next to a visibly tired theo. he shot you a lazy smile which you returned, your hands resting on the back of the sofa. “i’m fucking tired.”

“poor baby. you stayed late studying again?” blaise cooed at you and your brows shot up hearing his voice, not even aware of his presence until then.

you whined quietly, your eyes closing for a mere moment. “yeah. i think i might need hermione’s help though. i don’t think i’ll be able to do it on my own anytime soon.”

“granger’s help?” theo seemed more awake now, and your words made even tom put his book away. “what for? i’m sure it’s nothing draco couldn’t help you with.”

draco hummed softly from beside you, head resting against enzo’s chest as he looked just about three seconds away from falling asleep. “she’s taking muggle studies.”

you gave him a dirty look that you’re not sure he even caught, judging by his eyes being more than 80% closed by then.

though, around you, strings of questions followed. “oh, dolcezza, what for?” theo was the first one to ask, a gentle smile on his face.

to be fair, you weren’t sure why. you just found yourself wanting to know more about muggle-borns. you were concerned about their abilities. of course, other reasons ensued.

you sighed. “i’m just really curious. how can a muggle do magic? how can some of them be even better at it than us?” you paused, opening your eyes to look at them. “do you ever think about that?”

“i always thought that they’re not really muggle-borns. just adopted by clueless muggles” mattheo shrugged, taking a drag from his joint.

tom looked at his brother with something that you could only call disdain, before he looked at you, your eyes locking. “distant ancestors is my humble guess” his tone had a bite to it, but you knew it wasn’t directed at you.

maintaining eye contact, you felt as if he was eating you alive with just his eyes, gaze so intense that it made your knees give out. “that’s what the books say” you agreed, slightly startled when theo’s head dropped on your lap, your fingers almost instinctively going to play with his soft curls, the boy humming with appreciation.

you smiled down at him. “what do you say, teddy?”

“whatever you wanna do is fine by me, amorina” he replied a bit too quickly, his long, slender fingers rubbing at your knee.

that made you snicker, and you relax against the sofa, closing your eyes again. you didn’t hear much after that as you drifted off. but you surely remembered someone’s arms wrapping around you and carrying you to your prefect dorm.

🤍

you woke up with a headache the next day, and your owl delivered a letter - oh no. you wanted to postpone opening it, but you had no chance as it opened on its own, your mother’s high pitched, obnoxious voice ringing in your ears.

“y/n rosier! how dare you embarrass us this way??! taking muggle studies?! might as well put a knife in my heart. i don’t care about extra points, as long as you’re risking all of our lives - if the dark lord is made aware of this nonsense, he’ll have our throats! if you put another toe out of line, we’ll bring you STRAIGHT HOME!”

sighing, you ripped the parchment into pieces and threw your bag over your shoulder. you knew it was coming, you just didn’t know who told them.

walking down the stairs, you were met with a pair of curious eyes - they probably heard it all. how could they not?

“what was that about?” a confused blaise came to stand beside you, placing a hand at the small of your back as he walked with you out of the common room.

“my mother” you looked straight ahead as you walked, an unreadable expression on your face. “I have to drop muggle studies or the dark lord will have our throats.”

blaise chuckled lowly and squeezed you closer to his side, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “didn’t you expect that? i mean, we’re friends with his sons, of course they’d tell him.”

“you think so? i thought matt hated him” you said confusedly. mattheo did hate him, but his evil twin was a spitting image of his father.

your mouth opened in realisation. that bastard.

“listen… i love tom, but i don’t always trust him” he explained quietly, his face inching closer to yours as if he was afraid tom would actually hear him. “he’s a lot smarter than i think possible. and we all know that he’s always trying to please his father.”

that left you deep in thought. you had known tom for years, but you never thought he’d turn you in.

arriving to your first class of the day, potions, blaise left your side and went to sit at the table in front of you. funnily enough? tom was sitting just behind you.

“you’ll be paired up today as this is quite a difficult task and i’m not sure all of you can manage” professor slughorn eyed adrian pucey and you giggled quietly, blaise turning to you to shoot you a devilish grin.

dismissing you both with a hand waving in the air, slughorn continued. “alright, if miss rosier and mister zabini will allow me, i’ll start reading” he eyed you rather playfully and you gave a curt nod.

“mister zabini and mister pucey,” you could see blaise’s fall even from the side, as he gathered his things and went to sit with adrian, but not before shaking his head at you. “mister weasley and mister malfoy,” and your head snapped, your eyes widening when you finally heard your name, “mister riddle and miss rosier.”

you froze on the spot, unable to move as you heard shuffling from behind you, and soon after, tom was neatly placing his cauldrons on your table. “morning” his voice was soft but firm.

“morning” unlike your own, which was rather shaky. “did you hear what kind of potion we have to make? i-i wasn’t paying attention.”

he could see the blush creeping up your neck, his eyes observing every little detail - as always. “I didn’t tell father about you.”

you choked on air, tom having to pat you on the back, a foreign glint in his eyes. and once you finally relaxed, your throat rough, you asked. “how do you know that?”

“i read blaise’s mind” he shrugged as if it was nothing.

mouth agape, you stared at him like he’d grown two heads. and when you didn’t speak, he continued. “see weasley and malfoy there” he pointed to them and you nodded. “he’s thinking about screwing him. malfoy.”

“draco?!” you almost yelled and half of the class turned to look at you, which earned you a disappointing head shake from tom.

“yes, draco” he whispered nonchalantly, and his face fell. “they’re screwing more than any of us. they even do it in broom closets and if you catch draco drinking more than two butterbeers, he’ll tell you all about it.”

you nodded once, twice… and your brows furrowed. “any of you? who are you screwing?”

“our group. plus the golden trio, but i’m not big on that. it’s casual, not to them apparently” he nodded toward ron and draco again, and you sighed, still very much confused.

“why… why am i not a part of that?”

tom looked down and you could swear it was the first time he actually hesitated. “draco started all of this. i’m not… i’m not sure why.”

“bullshit” you spat, turning your face away from him. it actually made you feel bad. why did they not include you?

just as tom was about to speak again, probably come up with some lame excuse, you raised your hand, feigning stomach ache. “may i please be excused, professor? i don’t feel so good.”

and obviously, crazy scared about these things, slughorn let you go, and you felt tom’s burning gaze on your back as you left.

you decided that you didn’t want to see any of them that day. maybe the next day too. and the days after that.

you felt deeply hurt. not just because of the physical things you were missing on, but because they were your friends, and you were the only one being excluded from their activities.

sitting alone on the great hall, your mind started to wander. it wandered to all those times theo would disappear right before dinner and come back disheveled, when hermione would leave your study sessions early, when enzo and mattheo would feign being sick whilst the rest of you went to hogsmeade.

and your conclusion? none of them found you attractive. not a single person. you had had problems with the way you looked, as one does, but they were never this serious.

never to the point that you could physically feel the hole in your heart.

putting an end to your thoughts, the bell rang and students started making their way to the great hall. it was already lunch time.

you contemplated leaving, as you could already hear some of your friends nearby, but instead, you sat a few seats down from your usual spot, adrian pucey claiming the sit next to you.

“i must say i didn’t expect this, but i’m not mad” he chuckled as he started cutting into his meat, eyeing you curiously.

you tried to put on a smile, as insincere as it was due to your state. “i could use a change of scenery… what about your match against gryffindor on saturday? tell me about that.”

his eyes lit up instantly, and you thanked merlin for it. he would blabber and never shut up about it, so he couldn’t ask any more questions about your unusual behaviour. “so, we’re gonna beat those dimwits up. i don’t care what it takes-”

“yeah, shut up, pucey” you were startled and pulled out of your daydreaming by mattheo’s rough voice. looking up at him, you could see his eyes turning red with anger, and he took your hand in his.

he was so gentle even though he looked about ready to jump adrian. you stood up and held him close to you. without another word, he shot adrian a dirty look and led you out of the great hall and back to the slytherin common room.

the walk there was quiet, yet you could feel how tense he was. his hand on yours, even if gentle, was stiff. his shoulders were tense and it almost looked like he refused to blink.

you didn’t dare speak a word to him as he led you inside, the common room much too crowded at this time - dinner time, more specifically.

but the people there were not just random people.

“what is this?” you asked meekly, feeling too exposed as all of their eyes were on you.

they all looked at you with different kinds of expressions. draco looked angry, whilst ron, leaning back against his chest, was more excited than ever. blaise had a stern look on his face, and theo, enzo, tom, hermione and harry just looked thrilled to be there.

when none of them answered, mattheo spoke up. “my brother here is an idiot.”

“say something new” draco scoffed and blaise elbowed him in the ribs, the blond looking down as mattheo glared at him.

he turned back to you, his thumbs rubbing your knuckles as he looked down at you. “sweetheart, we didn’t include you because…” he sighed and you gulped, not feeling ready for the refusal. “because we know that you’re a virgin.”

you gasped, trying to push him away with your hands, but he tugged you closer to him, his hands wrapping around your smaller frame. “this is bullshit, i don’t care-!”

“okay, okay!” theo interrupted you and all of you looked at him, your brows rising. “we thought that even if you agreed to it… we didn’t- fuck! we couldn’t accept that, when you had to pick one of us to be your first, the others would just have to- live with it.”

you froze for what felt like the hundredth time today - they didn’t find you unattractive. they wanted you more than you could begin to think of.

────── ☾ ──────

[pez3639]

This is probably so weird, but can you do one where Luke hughes and the readers' younger sister are dating and you have to meet him for the first time

Endings and Beginnings

Luke Hughes x Reader's Sister || Quinn Hughes x Reader (kinda not rlly. the smallest inklings of it)

WC: 2.2k Words

A/N: No I actually love this and had so much fun doing a lil emo piece about being an older sister. This probably isnt what you had in mind so my bad, this def focuses alot more on the older sister. BUT i feel like i should continue this, esp with the dead end i left there... maybe. Also NOT proofread.

⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚

“Yes, I’m on my way right now,” there was a pause in the phone call as you heard your sister's shaky breath. The silence wasn't awkward, but it wasn’t comfortable either. It was the kind that screamed hesitation, even when no words have been spoken. You let her simmer a moment before speaking up. “Hey. You’re going to cross that stage and move onto bigger and better. No more stupid 8 A.M. classes. No more forced smiles to people who talk behind your back. No more college bullshit.”

It’s a few seconds before you hear a long exhale, her quirk that always signals she's finally coming down from whatever ledge her thoughts had chased her to. “Yeah, yeah…you’re right. This is good, it’s great actually,” you continue driving, speeding actually, barely missing the pothole that you were hurtling towards. The sun glares through the windshield, illuminating the necklace that hangs from your rearview. A simple chain with a star attached to it. The sweet sentiment blinded you with a reflection of the sun before your sister's voice came to life over the phone again.

“But why does it feel like nothing's okay and everythings crashing down around me?” her voice no longer carried the anxiety that it held before, now much more quiet and watery as if her tears were collecting in her throat rather than her eyes. Its your turn to take a long exhale before reminding her of how many times she’s done this.

“Do you remember your kindergarten graduation?” you breathe out, knowing that she's hopefully slept since then, either way she lets out a huff of laughter before you continue. “You refused to crawl out of my bed that morning. You were too scared to even look at the little cap and gown. You hid under my covers and cried and cried until I held your hand and told you it would be okay. I did the same thing when you graduated middle school. I think by the time you graduated highschool you just wanted to steal my bed, but that didn’t stop me from holding your hand and telling you it was okay. And I’m doing that now. Everything is going to be fine.”

Your sister laughs at the memories of you two. That’s how it’s always been. The two of you. The two year age difference didn’t matter much, at least to you it didn’t. Most of the memories you had were of you and her. The first time she called you “sissy” while waddling towards you. The late nights on the trampoline, both of you armed with sleeping bags and flashlights that never got used since both of you were far too scared of the dark trees. Her screaming ecstatically when you graduated highschool and you subsequently having to speak for her the next day when she lost her voice. And now her college graduation. Every memory, every moment in time, splattered across your consciousness like constellations. All of those stars linking the two of you together. You and her. 

You felt your eyes sting at the thoughts of the future, both of yours carrying a certain haziness that couldn’t be defined. The only thing you knew is that you would always hold her hand through it. You continue driving with misty eyes and a tight throat before she cuts the silence.

“I love you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Her sincerity broke you out of reverie. Not ready to face those emotions yet, you let out a dry and humorless laugh, “You’d live. You’re too much like a rat to not survive without me.” Her laugh on the other side of the line mirrored yours before she was onto another anxious tangent. 

“Okay, so when you get to your seats there should be…” she drifted off before you heard her mumbling one, two, three, under her breath. The thought of her standing there in her graduation gown while still having to count on her fingers made you grin. She crackled back to life after a moment. “There should be seven seats.” 

“Seven? I thought it was just me, mom, and uh…” you trailed off guiltily at having forgotten her boyfriend's name. Luka…Leo…Logan? No none of those were right as you shook your head at the names that popped up. “Your boyfriend?” 

“Did you really forget his name?” she accused in a dry tone. You pressed the brakes as you took a right turn before grimacing. Shit. “Oh yeah I definitely did…sorry?” She laughed a little at your antics as you continued to try and think of names. In your defense, you’d never met the guy, no less seen a picture of him. The relationship was still a bit new, so you never pressed about it, understanding that maybe she wanted to keep it a little more hidden as they grew closer with one another.

“Oh my god I can’t believe you, and yes he’ll be there, but so will his family.”

Your eyebrows shot up at the new information, “Holy shit, does mom know?” you question, wondering if you were the last to receive this news.

“Yes because she actually reads our group chat messages”

“Whatever,” you say dryly and with an eyeroll, “Okay, I’ll get there and make sure all the seats are good. Don’t worry about it. Everything is going to go great. Now go get in line or whatever you have to do at these things.” The two of you exchanged goodbyes as you got in line for the car park and hung up the phone. The college she attended wasn’t crazy big, but it definitely had a bigger student body than the small-town highschool the both of you attended. Eventually you found a spot and pulled in. You gathered your purse, coat, and ticket into your lap before just sitting there and staring. You felt the ache in your chest begin. The ache that always accompanies growing up. 

It felt like just yesterday that the two of you were giggling and ogling over your prom date. It was just last week that you two were pulling her last baby tooth. Only a month ago you two were running through the sprinklers in the backyard. But in reality, all of that was years ago. Your mind playing a cruel trick to bring up heart-ache and nostalgia. Nostalgia for times that were long gone and never coming back.

The trees along the pathways were budding in the late spring. The blossoms would woefully float down to the ground as if they were scared to let go of their mother branch. Two living things being torn apart by the movement of time. The lively weather was rolling in, a shift from the hoppy wistfulness of spring to the slow and sweltering heat of the summer. Collecting yourself, you unzip your purse to tidy up before heading into the large chapel where commencement was held. Pulling down your mirror, a polaroid stare back at you. Your own college graduation, more rather the pre-party. You hope your sister had that. One last stand with the people she's come close to. At least for now. They may end up bridesmaids, or co-workers, or strangers. Breathing out a heavy sigh, you blot your nose with powder as you take yourself in. Older and more mature than what you were when you graduated. 

Pushing up the mirror, you begin to shift and prepare for the walk to your seat. Unbuckle, open the door, and go. It should be easy but your body drags as if your bones have been turned to lead. Of course you were excited for your sister and her future, but you couldn’t help but mourn for the times before this. Before these big life events. Before you two grow old. You shut the car door and follow the masses to the chapel. The air serves as a lifeline of breath as the old brick walls enter your eyesight. So many people have gathered here to watch and celebrate someone. Everyone here has come together to support one another. It's warming to know such a diverse and expansive group of people can come together for a cumulative reason.

Getting closer and closer, people start collecting tickets as you walk past. You hand yours over and receive a program in exchange. You continue to walk further into the warm atmosphere of the church. Finding your sister placecards, you count out seven and shoot a text to your mom. You take a seat and shed your jacket while glancing around you. There's not many decorations, just some balloons and streamers here and there. A projector screen is in the middle of the stage where pictures of the graduates scroll through. Many of them are club and sports photos, but every now and then a straggler will pop out at you. Your mother begins to walk down the row of seats and chooses the spot to your left, sitting at the end of your reserved seats, meaning you’d have to sit next to these people you've never met before.

Once settled, your mother kisses your cheek and pats your knee in a comforting way, both of you feeling the emotion of today. She begins to make small talk, half of which you’re zoned out for, only throwing in a nod and Uh-huh here and there. About ten minutes pass before a family of five begins scooting down the rows of seats. Three boys and what you’re assuming are their parents. Your mother grabs you hand as she stands, pulling you up with her. Exclaiming in excitement, she greets the older woman first before saying hello to the boys.

“Oh Ellen it’s so good to see you here! She’ll be so happy that everyone made it.” Your mother speaks around you before introducing the family to you. Ellen, Jim, Quinn, Jack, and Luke. Right, his name was Luke. You remember your sister dropping it a few times. You all sit down, with Luke sitting to your right. You try to inconspicuously look him over, but probably failing. He tall and looks lanky under his somewhat formal attire. His dress pants fit loosely around his legs but his polo wrapped around his bicep. His curls looked well maintained, something you had no doubt that your sister had a hand in. He extended his hand to you before choking out a quiet “Hi, I’m Luke.”

You raised an eyebrow a bit and felt the corner of your mouth tug at his nervousness, your older sister protectiveness dropping by a lot at the simple gesture. “Hi, it's nice to meet you Luke.” You offered your name to him before making basic small talk. He told you about his brothers while you gave stories of your sister. While you two were playing with the hose and making mud puddles, the three brothers spent their time together enjoying hockey. As he continued to talk about himself, you understood why your sister chose him. He was the youngest of his brothers and close to all of them, especially Jack. You were glad that she found a family that loves each other as much as yours does. 

Soon his brothers joined in the conversation, making you realize how different he was from your sister. She was outgoing and fun but also had a soft side. You could imagine Luke bringing it out of her more, the two of them sharing a coffee and eating dinner. You understood that the two were more than just a new couple, they truly complimented and matched each other. Luke would often find himself going red as he defended himself from his brothers chirps at him. Moreso Jacks than Quinns. Jack was a true middle sibling–  boisterous, witty, and a bit cocky. Quinn on the other hand was different from both of the boys, from his dark and tousled hair, to the scruff that adorned his jaw, and the heavier look in his eyes. You recognized that look all too well as you caught eyes and he smiled at you, making your heart flutter. You averted you eyes as people began filing onto the stage as the music began to draw in. Everyone hushed as the graduates walked down the aisles and up to the risers on the stage.

As the ceremony continued, speakers came and went. Each one following the same formula on hitting the highs and lows of college. Admin and local “celebrities” filtered to the mic before congratulating the class and sitting down. As long-winded as the ceremony was, you don't miss the way Luke jumps from his chair along with you and your mom when your sister gets called to walk the stage. Or the way he’s grinning ear to ear when he sees his family cheering just as loud as him. It brought a smile to your face. Quinn caught your eye again as you shared a knowing look.

After the ceremony, the graduates ran to their loved ones. You barely had time to brace yourself before your sister borderline launched herself into you. Shes bouncing everywhere between people, from you, to your mother, to Luke, then Quinn and Jack, before slowing down with Ellen and Jim. Everyone stands congratulating her, with Luke showing extra affection for her. Always a hand on the small of her back or interlocked with hers. Everyone continues to mingle before a head of dark hair appears in front of you.

“Hi, I’m Quinn.”