#i hope it collapses around her and she loses her too so she's single and alone and miserable and regretting all of her fucking impulsivenes

[orcelito]

ok i am actually so very angry and there's literally nothing i can do to fix it. life keeps going on. she might even be happy. and fuck dude, i'll make sure im happy too, i was a fully developed person before she was in my life and i'll continue to be one without her. but God Damn, the fact that she can just do something so blatantly awful and unfair to me and then run off without any actual repercussions is just so fucking rankling to me.

like perhaps she feels guilty. she said she did when it was all going down. but it was just something she "needed to do". so obviously she didn't feel guilty enough or she wouldnt have done it like that lmaoooo

i really did deserve to have a good solid yell at her. but unfortunately, by the time i did see her in person i just wanted her out of my fucking life. so. no yelling was done, unfortunately.

[lupinqs]

PTPOM ━━ paige bueckers x teammate!reader

☆ ━ summary: you put that pussy on paige… based off that amari live clip, iykyk

☆ ━ word count: 4.1K

☆ ━ warnings: smutttt (paige is a MUNCH, strap, spitting, etc)

☆ ━ links: my masterlist

☆ ━ author’s note: yeah i’m ngl this was meant to be a pazzi fic but i wrote it and it just didn’t feel like them at all so i changed it to an x reader. sorry y’all, pazzi stuff coming soon!

THE BUS RIDE is electric, the aroma of your team’s win filling the vehicle. Music blares from Jana’s portable speaker, the bass rattling the floor beneath their feet. The whole team is hyped, celebrating a well-played game and a well-deserved win. You sit near the middle of the bus, in the window seat, while your teammate (and girlfriend), Paige, sits beside you, closer to the aisle.

KK is stood up a couple rows down, shouting the lyrics to the current song being played, dancing in her usual KK-Arnold-fashion. Amari’s closer to the back of the bus, entertaining a live that you’d talked to for a little while before growing bored and reclaiming your seat next to Paige.

The music shifts, and suddenly, PTPOM 2.0 is blaring through the speakers. The energy around you grows in a single millisecond, KK and Jana practically losing it, jumping up in their seats, hands in the air and grins on their faces. Paige’s face alights in excitement, and she stands in her seat, clapping, before absolutely screaming in a way that you’re sure anyone within a mile radius can hear, “AY, PUT THAT PUSSY ON ME!”

You watch, wide-eyed and laughing, as Paige and the others get louder, bouncing and singing along to the lyrics, the bus shaking with energy, feeding off the chaoticness. You share a look with Azzi, who’s also sitting and observing, that is equal parts disbelief and amusement.

“Let’s go! This the one!” Paige shouts before grinning down at you from where she stands beside you.

You shake your head a little bit, still laughing as you say, “You’re so gay.”

She doesn’t respond, just uses her hand to ruffle your hair a little bit as she sticks her tongue out. You let out another laugh, slapping her hand away and going to fix the ponytail that she’s ruined as Paige returns to her singing—if you could even call it that.

Eventually, Paige, breathless from shouting and jumping, collapses back into her seat, still grinning from ear to ear. Her chest heaves with exhilaration, and she turns to you, her eyes gleaming.

Leaning in close, your girlfriend’s lips brush along the shell of your ear as she whispers, “Can you tonight? In the hotel?”

You feel a shiver run down your spine at the soft, teasing tone in Paige’s voice. You tilt your head slightly, stomach fluttering, though trying to stay nonchalant.

“Can I what?” you ask, voice light but curiosity piqued.

Paige’s smirk deepens, her breath warm against your ear as she murmurs suggestively, “Put that pussy on me?”

You pull away to look her in the eye, your own eyes widening, mouth agape. You slap Paige lightly on the arm, trying to keep your cheeks from turning red as you feel the blood begin to rush in them. You look around a little bit, hoping to God that none of your teammates hears Paige’s words. When you see none of them looking at the two of you, your gaze returns to Paige and you say, half-disbelieving (though you really shouldn’t considering she says things like this far too often), “You did not just say that.”

Paige just grins, leaning back in her seat as she stretches her arms behind her head, completely unbothered. “What?” she asks, feigning innocence, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’m just asking a question.”

You just shake your head, biting your lip to hide your smile and doing your best to not let your face give away how flustered you really are. “Enough.”

“Come onnn,” Paige whines a little, leaning back in closer to you, one of her hand landing on your thigh, which she squeezes a little. “Please, baby. I know you wanna.”

You shoot her a look, eyes flitting between her hand on your skin and her face. You roll your eyes, ignoring the fast-paced pitter-patter of your heart beating through your chest. “We’ll see.”

THE HOTEL ROOM door closes behind the two of you with a click. Paige tosses both of your duffel bags into the corner of the room as you, with an exaggerated groan of exhaustion, collapse face-first into one of the hotel beds. Your body sinks into the plush comforter, arms and legs sprawled out, as if the the exhaustion of the day and the game have finally caught up to you. Paige smiles a little bit at your dramatics, shaking her head.

“Long day?” she teases, kicking off her shoes as she makes her way over to the bed.

You let out a muffled sound of agreement, face still buried in the pillows. “So long,” you mumble into the fabric. “I’m exhausted.”

Paige slides onto the bed beside you, hovering over you slightly as her hand instinctively finds its way to your hip, fingers curling around the soft material of your shirt. “Yeah?” she asks, voice dropping to a lower tone. “‘S too bad…”

You turn your head slightly, just enough to glance at your girlfriend through half-lidded eyes, a small smile playing on your lips. “I might have a little energy left,” you murmur up at her, eyes trailing to the blonde’s lips.

Paige grins, leaning down until your faces are just mere centimeters apart, the playful glint in her eyes now mixing with something else that makes your stomach tumble. “Knew you’d say that,” she whispers, smirking wider as her breath fans across your skin.

And then, without any hesitation, Paige closes the distance between you, her lips crashing against yours in a heated kiss. You welcome it eagerly, body reacting immediately to the familiar press of Paige’s mouth, the weight of her presence beside you on the bed. Paige’s hand slides from your hip to your waist, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss with a kind of urgency that neither of you had quite anticipated.

You let out a soft, content sigh against Paige’s lips, your hand coming up to tangle in the blonde’s hair as you shift onto your back, pulling Paige on top of you. Paige takes the invitation eagerly, her body pressing yours into the bed as she kisses you harder, more insistently. Your lips move in perfect sync, the heat between you building rapidly as your surroundings seem to fade into the background.

Paige’s kisses soon begin to stray, her lips trailing down your jaw and then to your neck, each press of her mouth leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. Your breath hitches slightly as Paige finds that particularly sensitive spot just below your ear, your hands gripping your girlfriend’s back a little tighter.

“Paige,” you whisper, voice breathy and full of need.

Paige doesn’t respond with words—she doesn’t need to. Her hands slide under your shirt, pulling it over your head quickly, leaving you just in your sports bra. Her mouth returns to its spot on your neck, flicking her tongue out a little to taste the skin, while her fingers trail along your stomach, before landing at your bra, flicking at the fabric slightly. Your breath hitches once more as her hand reaches under the article of clothing, thumb brushing along your nipple slightly, before beginning to knead your breast.

Her kisses begin to trail even more, now sliding from your neck down to your collarbone, where she sucks with a ferventness that has your eyes fluttering closed, sighing at the feeling.

But before you can really relish in it, something else piques your attention. Paige is muttering—humming (?)—something against your skin between kisses, words that jumble together as your mind zooms in on the feeling of her hand on your breast, her body on top of yours, her lips on your skin. You focus more on her words, fluttering your eyes open, brows furrowing.

“Put that pussy on me,” she hums almost imperceptibly against your skin.

As you realize that she’s singing that stupid song again, you can’t help but let out a loud laugh and it bubbles through your chest. “Paige,” you say, voice full of amusement as you tug at her game-day ponytail. “Quit singing that.”

Paige pauses, pulling away just enough to look you in the eye, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “Okay,” she says with a shrug, her tone far too innocent for the look in her eyes.

For a brief second, you think that maybe she actually will stop. But Paige, in true Paige fashion, has other plans. Instead of continuing the song, she takes the lyrics to heart.

Without another word, Paige’s hands move with purpose, slipping down to your waistband and tugging your pants and underwear down in one swift motion. Your breath catches in your throat, heart racing as you quickly realize your girlfriend’s plans. Before you can even think to protest (though you have no intention of doing so), Paige has hooked your legs over her shoulders, positioning herself between them with an undeniable confidence.

“P—” you start, voice already breathless, but the word dies on your lips, instead replaced by a sharp gasp, as Paige licks a slow stripe along your slit.

The sensation is instant, sending a shockwave of pleasure through your entire body. Your hands dig into Paige’s hair as you let out a shaky moan, the feel of her mouth on you the only thing you can comprehend. Her tongue moves expertly along your clit, and it makes your chest heave.

“God,” you gasp, fingers tightening in Paige’s ponytail, trying to ground yourself against the onslaught of sensation. Your body is already trembling, breaths coming in short, ragged bursts as Paige continues, her mouth and tongue working in perfect rhythm.

Paige, for her part, seems entirely focused on the task at hand, her hands gripping your thighs firmly as she works, her tongue moving with precision, hitting every sensitive spot with ease. Your gasps and soft moans only seem to spur her on, her tongue flicking faster against you, sucking more fervently.

Your world narrows to just this—just the feel of Paige’s mouth, the heat pooling in your stomach, the way your body responds with every touch. It’s overwhelming, in the best possible way, and you can feel herself getting closer and closer to the edge, the tension building inside you like a coiled spring ready to snap.

“Paige,” you gasp, voice barely audible over the sound of your own ragged breathing. “I—God, I’m—”

Before you can finish, the wave of pleasure crests, and your body tenses as you tumble over the edge, hand tightening in Paige’s ponytail, yanking ever so slightly, making her let out a low, breathless moan against your cunt. The vibrations make you shiver, and you’re trembling from the aftershocks of your orgasm.

However, even though you’ve finished, it seems like Paige has no intentions of stopping. Her mouth remains locked on your clit, tongue still working, moving in those perfect, deliberate strokes that have you seeing stars.

You gasp, body tensing again as the sensation becomes too much, the overstimulation hitting you all at once. “P,” you mumble, one of your hands instinctively reaching down to push at Paige’s head, trying to ease her away. “Too much—”

But Paige, ever stubborn, pulls away just enough to whine in protest, her breath hot against your sensitive cunt as she lifts her head. “Please, baby,” your girlfriend pleads, voice low and full of pure neediness. “Just one more. Gimme one more, baby.”

Your breath seems to catch in your throat at the desperation in Paige’s voice, and even though your body is practically vibrating from overstimulation, something about the way Paige asks—no, begs—makes it impossible to say no.

Before you can even respond, Paige is already diving back in, too impatient to wait for an answer. Her mouth moves with renewed focus, her tongue working your clit in ways that make your body feel like it’s on fire. Paige’s brows furrow as she concentrates, lapping at your cunt like a dog, movements precise, each flick of her tongue making you shake.

“Fuck,” you whimper, nails digging into the skin of Paige’s neck as your grip on her hair tightens. Your legs shake slightly, thighs trembling against Paige’s shoulders, but Paige just holds you tighter, determined to coax that second orgasm out of you.

Paige looks up as at you she works, her eyes locking onto yours, and the intensity in her gaze makes your stomach flip. There’s something about the way Paige watches you, the hunger and the focus in her eyes as she keeps going, her mouth and tongue relentless. It’s almost like Paige wants to commit this moment to memory, wants to own every second of your pleasure, every gasp, every moan.

Your head falls back against the pillow, chest heaving as you bite down on your lip, trying to hold back the sounds spilling from your mouth. But it’s useless—Paige is too good, her tongue too perfect, her fingers gripping your thighs just tight enough to ground you while her mouth sends you soaring.

You watch, mouth hanging open slightly in pleasure, as Paige pulls back a little. She smirks up at you, licking your slick off her lips, before her baby blues travel down to stare at your clit. She presses a soft kiss against it before pulling back once more, just enough to spit on that spot, her saliva dripping down onto your cunt. Your eyes nearly roll back into your head as Paige looks up at you once more, while her fingers slowly rub her spit into your skin, circling your clit, teasing your entrance before bringing them back up and around. “So fuckin’ perfect,” Paige murmurs, her voice low and full of awe as she looks up at you, her eyes gleaming with possessiveness. “So pretty, baby.”

You let out a soft whimper, your body trembling at the praise, the feeling of Paige’s fingers and mouth nearly sending you over the edge again. You barely have time to catch your breath before Paige adds, her voice even softer but dripping with ownership, “My pretty baby.”

And then her mouth returns, tongue lapping and working you over like she has something to prove. Her tongue moves in so many different ways, flicking and swirling and pressing in all the right places, and you almost feel like you’re losing your mind. Every nerve in your body is on fire, your senses overloaded with the feeling of your girlfriend’s mouth, her hands, her voice—just Paige.

Your back arches off the bed, fingers tugging desperately at Paige’s hair as the pressure inside you begins to build once again, impossibly fast, impossibly intense. “P—Paige,” you gasp, voice broken and breathless as you feel herself teetering on the edge again, your body trembling with the anticipation of release.

Paige doesn’t stop. Instead, she sucks. And sucks. And sucks. Her hands are steadying your shaking thighs as she keeps her in place, humming and moaning against you because she’s enjoying this just as much as you are. There’s a look of sheer determination on Paige’s face, her brows still furrowed in concentration as she makes you come undone beneath her.

It hits you all at once, the second orgasm slamming into you with the force of a freight train. Your vision blurs, your entire body convulsing as you come, a choked gasp escaping your lips as wave after wave of pleasure washes over her. Paige keeps going, pushing you through it, her tongue moving in perfect sync with the spasms of your body.

“Fuck, Paige,” you whimper, your voice barely audible as you ride out your high, hands trembling as you hold onto the blonde for dear life. Your mind is hazy, your body completely spent, but Paige doesn’t stop until you finally still, your breathing ragged and uneven.

Finally, Paige pulls back, her lips and chin and nose glistening, her eyes full of pride as she looks up at you, a satisfied grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. She wipes the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand, crawling back up your body and collapsing beside you on the bed, her hand finding its way to your waist.

“See?” Paige whispers, her voice still low and a little breathless as she presses a soft kiss to your shoulder. “I knew you had at least one more in you.”

You raise your brows at her, still trying to catch your breath as you ask, “At least?”

Paige doesn’t answer, just grins a little as she leans in, going to kiss you, her hand moving to rest on your stomach. You kiss her back, palm lightly splayed across her cheek.

“I brought it,” Paige murmurs against your lips, surprising you. Her eyes flicker with that familiar gleam, that playful but intense fire.

Your breath hitches at the implication, your heart skipping a beat. Despite already coming twice, you feel a rush of need between your legs. “You did?” you ask with a tremor of anticipation.

“Mm-hm,” Paige hums, leaning in and spreading light kisses along your jawline, trailing them til her lips meet your ear. There, she whispers, “Will you let me fuck you with it?”

You feel your heart stutter at her words, the unmistakable want tainting her tone. You feel your body warm at the thought, and the need in your stomach turns molten. It doesn’t help that she’s sucking a spot on your neck now, one that will surely leave a mark. “Yeah,” you say breathily against her.

Paige pulls away from your neck as a grin breaks out across her features—wide, eager, and filled with anticipation. She stands up from the bed, crossing the room in a few quick strides to your bags. You watch her, heart pounding faster as she rummages through her duffle, finally pulling out the purple strap. Paige holds it up for a moment, letting it dangle in her hand, her eyes flicking back to you with a teasing smile before she begins to strip off her own clothes, tossing them aside with casual ease.

Paige stands there for a beat, completely bare, her toned body all lean muscle and curves, looking every bit the athlete she is. She takes her time putting the strap on, adjusting it around her hips, the purple of the toy standing out against her skin. Once she’s satisfied, she gives you this look—one that makes your breath catch again—before crawling back onto the bed.

Your body is practically buzzing with anticipation as Paige leans down and kisses you again, slowly this time, her lips soft but deliberate as they move against your own. There’s something almost tender about the way Paige kisses you, even though you can feel the heat simmering just beneath the surface.

“Ready?” Paige whispers against her lips, her hand brushing a path along your neck and up to your cheek, which she cups softly.

You nod, your heart racing, your body already aching for more. “Yeah,” you murmur, the words barely audible.

Paige smiles and, with careful deliberation, lines herself up, the tip of the strap pressing against your entrance. She’s slow at first, easing it in just enough for you to get used to the stretch. You feel your back arch off the bed a little as the toy begins to fill you, the sensation overwhelming in the best way. It’s big—Paige chose one that was just the right size to make you feel full, to give you that perfect stretch.

“Fuck,” you mutter, fingers curling into the bedsheets as Paige pushes in deeper, slow and steady, letting you adjust to the sensation. She watches you the entire time, her eyes flickering with something dark and intense, like she’s savoring every second of this.

“Feel good?” Paige asks, her voice low and almost too calm, given how worked up you are.

You can’t speak, can’t find the words, so you just nod, your breath coming out in short, shaky puffs as Paige finally pushes all the way in, filling you to the hilt. The fullness is almost too much, but it’s also perfect—the kind of pressure that has you teetering on the edge of pleasure and pain in the most intoxicating way.

Paige leans down again, her lips ghosting over yours as she begins to move, slow and careful thrusts that make your toes curl. “God, you’re so fuckin’ perfect,” Paige mumbles, her voice dripping with praise as she picks up the pace, her hips moving just a little faster. “So tight around me, baby. You feel that?”

You let out a moan in response, your body rocking in time with each of your girlfriend’s thrusts. Paige’s words always get to you, always add to the heat building inside you, and right now, Paige is talking like she wants you to lose your mind.

“You take me so well,” Paige continues, and it comes out low and raspy as she thrusts a little harder, her hands gripping your hips for leverage. “Fuckin’ perfect. My perfect girl.”

Your breathing is beyond ragged now, and you’re trembling beneath Paige as the pressure builds higher and higher. Every thrust hits just right, pushing deeper inside you, filling you in ways that made her head spin. You swear you can feel the strap in your stomach at this point. “Paige—” you gasp, voice breaking as your hands grip Paige’s shoulders, pulling her closer.

The blonde doesn’t slow. If anything, she speeds up, her hips slamming into yours with a steady rhythm that has you seeing stars. “Fuck, you hear that?” Paige rasps out, a little breathlessly as she continues fucking you. She pauses her words for a moment, doesn’t say anything, letting the sound of your skin slapping against each other, the sound of Paige’s strap sliding in and out of your cunt, fill the room. “Listen to how wet you are. Shit, baby, that pussy’s so fuckin’ good.”

Your heart rate picks up, her words hitting you like a jolt of electricity. The wet sounds, the lewd praise—it’s all too much, too perfect. “Paige,” you whimper her name again, your nails digging into her skin as you shake with the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Paige murmurs, her breath hot against your neck as she leans in, her movements becoming more deliberate, more purposeful. “My pretty girl. All mine. So fuckin’ pretty like this, baby. Look at you.”

Paige reaches down between you, her fingers finding your clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles that send sparks shooting through your entire body. “Fuck!” you practically shout, hour body jolting at the added sensation. “Shit, P.”

Your whine has Paige’s movements becoming even more calculated, each thrust perfectly timed with the pressure she puts on your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You’re moaning against her neck, almost sobbing into her skin, as she continues pounding into you relentlessly. In and out, in and out, hitting your g-spot over and over and over again.

“Come for me, baby,” Paige commands, pinching your clit and biting at the skin of your neck. “Come on. I wanna feel you come on my cock.”

The words send you spiraling, your body tensing as the pleasure hits you like a tidal wave. Your orgasm rips through you, and you practically convulse beneath Paige as your vision blurs, your moans loud and unabashed as you come, hard, trembling from head to toe with the intensity of it.

Paige keeps moving, riding it out for you, her hips slowing but still thrusting deep, drawing out every last bit of pleasure. “That’s it, baby,” she says lowly. She’s full of awe as she watches you fall apart beneath her. “Fuck, you’re so good. Always so fuckin’ perfect.”

Your breath comes in ragged gasps as the pleasure slowly subsides, your body limp and spent beneath Paige. You can still feel the strap inside you, the fullness of it grounding you as you tried to catch your breath.

Paige leans down, pressing a series of soft kisses along your forehead, her fingers still tracing light patterns on your skin. “You okay?” she asks softly, now full of gentleness and care and even concern.

You nod, still too breathless to speak, but the content smile on your face says it all. Paige kisses you again, slow and sweet, her hand resting on your cheek as she slowly pulls the strap out, easing you down from your high.

“Guess you could say you put that pussy on me,” she tells you jokingly, smiling against your lips.

You let out a tired laugh, slapping her ass lightly as you say, “Enough.”

[urbrunettebombshell]

NOTHING LEFT TO LOSE - Part 2

Part 1

Rafe Cameron x FemReader

Summary: After a gut wrenching realization, Rafe Cameron has nothing left to lose, only reader.

Warnings: 18+, jealousy, angst, mental health issues, suicidal themes, mention of eating disorder.

Important info: this is my second writing piece. still extremely personal. also english is not my first language. hope you enjoy it :) (not my gif!)

P.S.: the idea of writing this came from a character.ai bot (_nietakt on the app). not a single word in this was written by a bot! i took the initial idea of reader seeing Rafe and another girl at a bonfire. let me know if you have a problem with that.

Rafe hadn’t slept a single wink. He'd been too worried about her, her skin so cold when he'd carried her out of the water. Now, watching her sleep in his bed, a sense of relief washed over him. She was safe, at least for now.

He stood by the door, arms wrapped tightly around himself, silently watching her as she slept. The faint light of the morning sun seeped through the curtains, gently illuminating her face, but it only seemed to deepen the emptiness in the room. He remained there, motionless, as if afraid to disturb the fragile stillness of the moment. His gaze lingered on her, tracing the rise and fall of her chest with each breath, a rhythm that felt so distant, so foreign to him now. The quiet hum of the world outside seemed to fade, leaving only the weight of the quiet room. The sunlight, soft and pale, seemed to mock the darkness that had taken root in his heart.

Despite that, her body throbbed with a slow, unbearable ache. Her heart and lungs felt too heavy to bear; her head pounded as if she had collided with concrete. Every breath felt like a struggle, each minor movement a battle against the weight of exhaustion pressing down on her. The world around her seemed muffled, distant, as if she were trapped in a fog that wouldn’t lift, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t escape the relentless ache.

But the soft mattress was comforting. The familiar scent of the sheets, the faint trace of him, wrapped around her like a fragile embrace, offering a fleeting sense of peace. The warmth of the room, the quiet hum of the world outside, felt so much like home, even though home had long ago become a place she didn’t recognize.

She opened her eyes to find him standing there, unmoving, his gaze fixed on her with a quiet intensity. He was leaning against the doorframe, dressed in sweats, but there was something in the way he held himself that told her he hadn’t slept. Not a single ounce of rest had touched him. She didn’t speak. The silence between them felt suffocating, as if any word spoken could shatter the fragile stillness that had settled in the room. She was scared — scared of what might come next, of what that look in his eyes might mean.

Rafe's breath caught in his throat as her eyes fluttered open. He'd been standing there for what felt like hours, watching the rise and fall of her chest, making sure she was okay. He pushed off from the doorframe and approached the bed, sitting gingerly on the edge of it. His eyes remained fixated on her, his expression a mixture of relief and concern.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “How are you feeling?”

When he sat down on the edge of the bed, the mattress sank slightly under his weight and her heart clenched in fear. A mix of longing and dread twisted inside her. She wanted him closer, desperately so, but she knew deep down that if he didn’t keep his distance, she would never be able to move on. She could never heal if he was too near.

She had always been weak when it came to him, her resolve crumbling the moment he was within arm’s reach. She folded so fast, every guard she built collapsing, every promise to herself shattering in the blink of an eye. The pull between them was magnetic, and no matter how many times she tried to push it away, it always found its way back, leaving her lost in the wreckage of her emotions.

“Weird,” she answered him in a whisper. She was feeling every little emotion yet nothing at all. Maybe she was just waiting for her heart to be broken again.

Rafe chuckled softly at her reply, his eyes never leaving her face. He shifted closer, reaching out and brushed a loose strand of hair away from her forehead, his touch tentative yet tender.

“Yeah, I imagined you would feel pretty weird after last night,” he said, his voice quiet. He paused, his expression turning serious as he spoke. “You had me pretty worried, you know that?”

That chuckle was the death of her. It echoed in her chest, a sound that stirred something deep inside, something she had buried long ago. And when his finger brushed against her forehead, she couldn’t help but let out a soft, shaky sigh. Any crumb of attention from him felt like heaven on earth, like she could finally breathe again after holding her breath for so long.

“I didn’t…” she started saying, her voice barely above a whisper, but his serious expression stopped her mid-sentence, the weight of it pressing down like a stone. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, but her emotions felt like they were on the edge of breaking. Her eyebrows furrowed, the tension growing inside. “I’m sorry,” she said, the words tasting bitter on her tongue, even though she didn’t fully understand what she was apologizing for. Maybe it was just the silence between them, or the way things had always been — broken, but never enough to end.

Rafe shook his head, his hand still resting gently against her face. “No, don’t apologize. You don’t need to apologize,” he paused, his eyes searching her face, taking in every detail. He wanted to memorize every little nuance, every little mark, every fleck of color in her eyes, as if each detail was a piece of something precious, something he could never forget. The way her lashes fluttered when she blinked, the faint shadows beneath her eyes, the glimmer that flickered when her emotions shifted — it was all so much a part of her, yet so easily lost in the passing of time.

He leaned in slightly, as if trying to capture it all, the very essence of who she was, holding onto the way she looked in this moment. He was afraid that once it slipped away, it would be gone forever, that the memory would fade like a dream upon waking. Every slight movement, every breath she took, felt sacred to him, as if he was witnessing something fragile and irreplaceable. “Just…don’t scare me like that again,” his voice was firm but not harsh, filled with a mix of concern and a hint of scolding.

She allowed herself to take a long, unhurried look at all his features, every single detail she had memorized and loved so deeply. The curve of his jaw, the softness of his lips, the way his cerulean eyes held a quiet intensity even when he wasn’t speaking — each part of him felt familiar, yet it all made her heart ache in ways she couldn’t explain.

A soft sigh escaped her lips, filled with frustration, as the thought of losing him all over again gnawed at her insides. It was a fear she couldn’t escape, no matter how hard she tried to push it away. The thought of the distance between them growing again, of things unraveling like they always did, was almost too much to bear. She could feel the tears threatening to rise, but she held them back, desperate to keep some semblance of control, even though everything inside her was breaking.

She wanted to apologize for being a burden last night, for all the things she couldn’t say or control, for the way she had let her emotions spill over, overwhelming them both. She wanted to tell him that he wouldn’t have to deal with her anymore, that she would find a way to step back, to let him go without dragging him deeper into her mess. She longed to say that he was free of her, that if he truly wanted to be, he didn’t have to stay. He could walk away and never look back. She would find a way to erase him from her heart, even if it felt impossible, even if every part of her screamed to hold on.

But the words stuck in her throat, heavy and suffocating. She couldn’t bring herself to say them. The fear of losing him, of pushing him away for good, paralyzed her. How could she let him go when he was all she had ever known? How could she let him walk away when she knew deep down she was nothing without him?

Rafe noticed the conflict in her eyes, the way she averted her gaze from his, and he could practically hear the thoughts racing through that mind of hers. He knew her like the back of his hand, and he knew what she was thinking. He reached out and gently cupped her cheek in his palm, drawing her focus back to him.

“Don’t start shutting me out again,” his voice was firm yet pleading. “Not after last night.”

Her body trembled when his palm cupped her cheek, the warmth of his touch sending a jolt of electricity through her, forcing her to look him in the eye. He was so close once again, the space between them shrinking until it felt like the world outside had disappeared. But even with his face so near, it still wasn’t enough. The ache in her chest deepened, a longing that couldn’t be satisfied by just proximity, no matter how much she craved it.

And as she stared into his eyes, she wasn’t sure if it was entirely possible for them to ever exist again, to find that place where they could be what they once were. The fractures between them felt too deep, the silence too heavy, as if too much time had passed, too much damage had been done. The fear crept in, a gnawing thought that perhaps this was as close as they could get anymore — the edges of what they had, but never quite whole again.

“I never shut you down,” she scolded him, her voice sharper than she had meant, the words cutting through the silence more forcefully than she anticipated. She immediately regretted the tone, her chest tightening with the weight of it. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, her fingers trembling slightly as she held back the storm of emotions threatening to overwhelm her.

“You left,” she continued, her voice quieter now, but still thick with hurt. “I just did what I could to cope with it.” The words tasted bitter as they left her lips, the truth of them stinging as she realized how much she had buried, how much she had tried to suppress. She had told herself it was fine, that she was fine, but the emptiness of those days without him had left scars she could never erase. She wanted him to understand, but part of her feared that even if he did, it might be too late for them to ever find their way back.

Rafe’s jaw clenches at her words, a pang of guilt stabbing through him as she reminds him of the fact he’d left. It was a truth he was all too aware of, one that haunted him every single day. “You think I don’t know that?” He asks, his voice strained. “You think I didn’t know how much I was hurting you when I left?” He lets out a shaky breath, his thumb gently caressing her cheek. “I hated every goddamn minute of being away from you.”

She shut her eyes, squeezing them tightly to keep the tears from falling. It was hurting all over again, a familiar ache that twisted deep inside her, pulling at every fragile piece of her heart. She knew how hard it had been for him after losing his father, how he had struggled, how he had tried to carry the weight of it alone. She understood the pain, the grief that consumed him, and the way he had pushed everyone away, convinced that he was better off alone.

She knew he wasn’t doing well, that he was drowning in his own sorrow, afraid of pulling her down with him. But leaving her had been worse than all of that. The absence of him had left a void she couldn’t fill, and no matter how many times she tried to convince herself she would be okay, she wasn’t. His departure had fractured something inside her, something that hadn’t healed, something that no amount of time or distance could ever fix. It wasn’t just the leaving that hurt. It was the way he had cut himself off, the way he had silently decided that it was better to walk away than to let her in, even when she had been there, waiting for him to reach back. It was the feeling of being abandoned, not because he didn’t love her, but because he was convinced that loving her was too dangerous, too painful.

“Can we not?” She pleaded in a heartbeat. She couldn’t argue about that again, it was too much for her to handle.

Rafe’s heart felt like it was being torn out of his chest as he listened to the plea in her voice. The raw vulnerability there cut through him like a blade, each word a reminder of the damage he had caused, the silence he had let linger between them. He didn’t want to hurt her more; that was the last thing he ever wanted. The guilt that had been gnawing at him for so long twisted deeper, but he knew that ignoring it, pretending everything could go back to how it was, would only make it worse.

He drew in a slow, shaky breath, trying to steady himself, his hand still resting on her cheek, the warmth of her skin grounding him. He could feel her breath against him, the tension in her body, and it broke him to know that his actions had brought her to this point.

“No,” he said quietly, his voice firm but not harsh, careful not to let the pain in his chest spill over into his words. “We can’t just not talk about it.” His gaze softened slightly, his eyes searching her face, reading the fear, the sadness that she wore like a veil. He wanted to pull her close, to promise her everything would be okay, but he knew the truth: that wouldn’t fix this. The silence, the unspoken things between them — they needed to be confronted.

She bit her lower lip, trying to hold back the words that were threatening to spill out. She knew he wouldn’t like it if they talked about it, knew it would only make things worse. Hell, he would hate hearing her talk about it. The thought of confronting the truth — the things left unsaid, the hurt buried beneath his silence — made her stomach churn. He never liked being held accountable for his behavior, never liked facing the consequences of his actions. It was easier for him to retreat, to close off, to pretend like it never happened.

But she wasn’t sure how much longer she could pretend, how much longer she could stay silent while everything between them crumbled. She had to say it. She had to make him see what he was doing to them, even if it meant pushing him further away. The weight of his avoidance was crushing her, and she knew if she didn’t speak now, she might never get the chance again.

“We will end up fighting,” she told him in a shaky tone, her fingers tracing his hand on her skin. “I’m not sure if I can keep fighting you.”

Rafe’s expression softened as she spoke, the touch of her fingers against his skin sending a jolt through him. He knew she was right — any mention of the topic would inevitably lead to a fight. But he couldn’t let this linger any longer.

“Maybe we need to fight,"” he took a deep breath, his voice slightly shaky. “Maybe if we actually talked about this, really talked about it, we could get some goddamn closure for once.”

That damn word set her off like a switch had been flipped, her mind spiraling into chaos. Closure? Fuck him. How could he even ask for that? She wanted to be respected, to feel like she mattered, and instead, he had fucked her over in the worst possible way. Every part of her burned with anger, the weight of betrayal sinking deep into her bones. She couldn’t believe she was hearing that — closure. After everything he’d done, after the silence, after the lies, after the countless ways he had turned away when she needed him most, he was asking for closure? The audacity of it made her blood boil, the sting of every painful memory rushing back with the force of a tidal wave. He had taken so much from her, and now he was trying to act like he was the one who needed answers?

It felt like a slap in the face, the one thing she never thought she would hear from him. The one thing that made all of the pain, all the sacrifice, all the love she had given feel like it had meant nothing.

“You want closure?” She asks in a scoff as she sits up in the bed, her knees shaking against her chest as she holds herself close. “I’ll give you closure.”

She was so vulnerable that anything could set her off. Her emotions were all over the place and all mixed up.

“You were a bad person, Rafe, but I kept up with your bullshit,” she said, her voice trembling with the weight of everything she had held back for so long. “I loved you like no one else did, and you did me dirty.” The words cut through the silence, sharp and bitter, and he could almost see them flowing from her soft lips, each syllable laced with the pain he had caused. “You left when things got too much for you,” she continued, her eyes burning with a mix of sorrow and rage. “You left me in pieces, alone to deal with everything. And you had the nerve to show up with someone else just a few weeks later, leaving me like I never mattered.”

Her words hung in the air, and he felt the weight of them press down on his chest, suffocating him. He had known what she was feeling, had known deep down that she was hurting, but hearing it laid out like this — raw, unfiltered — was a slap to his face. There was nothing he could say to make it right, no apology that would undo the damage. The guilt settled over him like a heavy fog, his own shame swallowing him whole. She was right. He had left her, abandoned her when she needed him the most, and now she was sitting there, her heart torn open, and he had no excuse.

Rafe’s eyes widened in disbelief as the words left her mouth, each one like a dagger to his heart. He had been bracing for a fight, but hearing she lay it all out like that was like a punch to the gut.

“You think I don’t know all of that?” He asks, his voice tight with anger and frustration. “You think I haven’t been beating myself up for it every damn day?” He runs a hand through his head, his expression a mix of frustration and pain. “You think I wanted to leave you?”

Her eyes were glued to his every movement, searching for something that could make sense of the chaos between them. She was burning in anguish, her heart twisting with every word he spoke, every shift in his posture. The anger and hurt churned inside her like a storm she couldn’t escape.

She wanted to know why everything always ended with screaming, why their relationship always seemed to spiral into nothing but pain and conflict. Why couldn’t they ever find a way to just be? Why couldn’t they hold on to the moments when things felt good, when love was enough?

The question clawed at her mind, relentless. Why didn’t he just leave her to drown? She had been struggling for so long, feeling like she was sinking deeper into despair, yet he always seemed to linger, pulling her up just enough to keep her gasping for breath — just enough to remind her how much she needed him, even when he was the cause of the drowning.

“I know nothing about what you want,” she scoffed harshly, spitting venom out of her tongue. “I just know that you did leave me. And it hurts like hell.”

Rafe’s jaw clenches, the venom in her words cutting him deep. He knew he deserved every bit of it, but it still hurt.

“I didn’t want to leave you,” he said firmly, his voice strained. “I never wanted to leave you, goddamnit. I just thought-“ He cuts himself off, his eyes drifting to the floor. He didn’t want to admit the truth out loud.

Her eyebrows furrowed at his unfinished words. Her heart skipped a beat. She knew it had more to it than what he was saying. She just thought he would never tell her.

“You just thought what?” She asks him.

Rafe takes a deep breath, his eyes still locked on the ground. He knows this is going to be the hardest part of this conversation.

“I thought you’d be better off if I left you.” The confession feels like acid on his tongue, but he forces himself to keep going. “I was such a mess after my father died, and I didn’t want to drag you down with me. I thought you’d be better off without me.”

The silence that followed the confession was heavy on them. It seemed like hours of them just staring into each other's eyes and breathing heavily. She could see the sorrow in him. She also could see her Rafe.

“You’ve always been an idiot.” She says in a chuckling whisper. What a dumb man. He left to save her and all he did was damn her.

Rafe couldn’t help but let out a dry chuckle at her unexpected reply. He had expected anger, tears, anything other than that. But that was just like her – throwing him off guard, making him feel things he thought he couldn't anymore.

He finally looked up to meet her eyes, his expression a mix of resignation and a hint of a smile. “Yeah, I’ve always been a goddamn idiot. Especially when it comes to you.”

She knew she should not have opened her heart to this again. She had promised herself she wouldn’t — promised herself she was stronger than this, that she wouldn’t let him pull her back in. But here she was, standing on the edge of the same cliff, her heart a fragile thing in her chest, ready to leap despite every warning. She knew her friends would kill her if they ever knew what she was doing right now, how she was willing to risk it all for someone who had torn her apart before.

She had been through hell since their split, enduring the long, lonely nights and the endless questions, trying to piece herself back together from the wreckage he left behind. And now, she was dancing willingly in the flames with the devil, drawn to him like a moth to a flame, knowing the pain would come again but unable to stop herself from reaching for it.

“I miss you,” she whispered, her voice trembling, barely a breath escaping her lips. Her hands shook as they hovered in the space between them, unsure whether to touch him or pull away, torn between the longing and the fear. She wanted them to make up, wanted to believe that there was still something worth saving, something that could be fixed. Yet she was so scared — scared of the same heartbreak, the same crushing emptiness that had followed in the wake of his leaving. But in this moment, her desire for him, for reconciliation, outweighed the terror that had kept her apart from him for so long.

Time seemed to stand still as the words left her trembling lips.

‘I miss you’.

Those words hit Rafe like a ton of bricks, their weight crashing down on him with such force it left him breathless. It was all he had wanted to hear from her for months, the words he had desperately wished for, even though he had never been brave enough to say them first. He had longed for those three words, ached for them with every fiber of his being, knowing that he had pushed her away and ruined what they once had. But hearing them now, soft and fragile, pulled him back to a place he thought he’d lost forever.

He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the warmth of her confession settle in, steadying himself as the emotion threatened to overwhelm him. When he opened them again, his gaze found hers, and for the first time in what felt like forever, there was a flicker of something real — something unbroken — in his eyes. His expression was a mix of pain and hope, the raw truth of their past hanging between them like an open wound, but there was a glimmer of something he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in a long time: possibility.

“I miss you too, baby,” he whispered, his voice low and thick with emotion, the words escaping him with a vulnerability he wasn’t sure he was ready for. But it didn’t matter anymore. The distance, the hurt — it all felt irrelevant now. He was here. She was here. And for this one moment, that was enough.

She can’t help but flinch when he calls her baby again. It was a warm welcoming yet a harsh pull to remind her that she wasn’t his baby anymore. Her lips tremble when she tries to talk but nothing comes out of her mouth. It was so scary to be this confused.

Rafe’s heart breaks as he sees her flinch at his use of the term. Once upon a time, it was his favorite way to address her – a term of endearment, a sign of his love for her. But now it just served as a reminder of what he'd lost.

He closed the distance between them both and slowly reached out to take her trembling hands in his. His expression was one of uncertainty mixed with a desperate hope.

“Baby, I don’t-“ He cuts himself off, his throat closing up.

She couldn’t stay there for another minute. It felt like a dream turning into a tortuous nightmare. She shut her eyes when he called her baby again. Oh, God, what would she do to be his baby again.

“Maybe I should go.” She says in a slightly more subtle tone. She should stop this from happening. They should part ways and get over it.

Rafe’s heart sank as she spoke the words he dreaded to hear. He had hoped — no, he had wanted — this conversation to go much different. He tightened his grip on her hands, refusing to let her slip away.

“No,” his voice was firm, the single word filled with a mixture of plea and determination. “Please, just…don’t go. Just talk to me, baby, please. We can work this out.”

She looked up at him through her big doe eyes, filled with sorrow, a silent plea hidden deep within them. Her gaze searched his face, desperate for something — some sign that this wasn’t just another cruel twist of fate, that they could still find a way back to each other. But all she saw was the same pain mirrored in his expression, a reflection of the brokenness that had once been shared between them. Her eyebrows were furrowed, the weight of everything that had happened between them pressing down on her chest, suffocating her. She couldn’t help it. A lonely sob slipped from her throat, the sound fragile and raw, as if it had been trapped inside her for far too long. It was a sound that broke her, that broke him, and for a moment, neither of them could move, both frozen in the echo of the pain they had inflicted on one another.

She didn’t know how to fix this, how to make it right, but all she could feel was the emptiness that had settled in her heart. The ache was too much to bear, and as the sobs wracked her body, she realized how much she had longed for him to stay, to not leave her alone with the weight of it all.

“And then what?” She asks him in an honest hope of terms. “We’ll apologize for almost killing each other and forget about all that pain? And live happily ever after?”

Rafe's heart aches at the pain in her voice and the tears forming in her eyes. He wants nothing more than to make all the hurt go away – both hers and his. He reaches up and gently brushes away a tear that escapes down her cheek, his touch tender and full of an old, familiar tenderness.

“Baby, I'm not saying it'll be easy,” he says softly, his expression a mixture of pain and determination. “But I want to try. I want us to try.” Those words were a promise, tentative but full of the hope that had been buried beneath the weight of everything they had endured. They weren’t guarantees, but they were real. And for the first time in a long time, he allowed himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, they could find their way back to each other.

She sobs once again when he holds her closer to him. It felt so right to be in his arms, it didn’t hurt anymore. But it was still terrifying. They weren’t the same anymore.

“I don’t know if I have the strength to try,” she whispered. All she ever wanted was to be his girl again. But what if he decides to leave again? She can’t handle that all over again.

Rafe's heart breaks as she sobs, as she mentions not having the strength to try. He knows he's to blame for that – he's the one who broke her strength, shattered her faith in him.

He pulls her even closer, his arms wrapping around her tightly, desperately.

“You don't have to have the strength. I'll be there, baby, and I'll be strong for both of us,” he whispers, his voice trembling with a mix of pain and determination. “I won't leave you again. I promise.”

She allowed him to hold her tightly, her head resting on his shoulder while he pleaded so dearly. He was desperate. God, she would fold in his hands.

“Do you really mean this?” She asks again. He had to be sure that he wanted this, that he wanted her.

Rafe lets out a shaky breath as she leans into him, his heart skipping a beat. He never wanted to let her go, ever again.

He takes a moment to collect himself before answering, his voice firm and unwavering. “Baby, with everything I have in me. I want this, I want you. So goddamn badly.”

Her fingers find his face, tracing his jawline ever so slightly. Her touch was so soft and slowly, almost like telling how afraid she was of him disappearing into thin air.

“We can’t be insane this time,” she whispered as she kept touching his skin. They have to do this right or not even try. “We’ll have to get to know each other again. Heal from what happened first.”

Rafe's heart skipped a beat as her delicate fingers traced over his jaw, the touch a bittersweet mixture of comfort and nostalgia. He nodded as she spoke, his eyes never leaving hers. He understood the gravity of those words.

“We can do this right,” he said softly, his voice filled with determination and desire. “We'll take all the time we need to heal, to get to know each other again. I'm not going anywhere, baby. I'll be here for as long as it takes.”

She stared into his eyes for longer than she should, keeping her silence as she tried to catch any glimpse of regret in him. But there wasn’t. He was serious. He has changed.

“Okay.” She whispered.

And just like that she was willing to go through everything again just for his sake.

Rafe's heart leapt in his chest as he heard the word leave her lips. It was such a simple word, but it meant so much.

He pulled her closer, the relief and hope flooding in his system.

“We'll take it slow,” he promised, his voice still trembling. “No more fighting. No more hurt. Just healing and rebuilding, okay?”

She nodded softly at him, her arms hugging him around his neck. She inhaled deeply into his chest, filling herself with his scent. Only God knew how much she missed this. To be his.

She could die right there in his arms. She didn’t need anything else. But she knew she couldn’t throw herself in this situation so blindly.

Rafe wrapped his arms around her tightly, holding her close against his chest. He had missed this – her – so much. The feeling of her body against his, her scent filling his nostrils, her breath against his skin.

He closed his eyes for a moment, relishing in the feeling of having her in his arms again.

“We'll be okay, baby,” he whispered softly, his voice filled with a mixture of determination and tenderness. “I won't let anything come between us again.”

She felt like she could finally breathe again. That lump in her throat going away after weeks of choking me. Her heart finally stopped hurting. She takes a deep breath as she leans her head slightly back to look up at him.

“I love you.” She tells him in reassurance. She's never stopped loving him so deeply. But he has to know that love will not be enough this time.

Rafe's heart nearly stopped at her words. I love you. He had ached to hear those words for what felt like an eternity. And now, here she was, declaring her love for him once again. It was like music to his ears.

“I love you too, baby,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “So goddamn much.”

Their noses touched, the skin on skin sensation tingling in caress. She never wanted to let go. But she had to.

After minutes of silence, of them just holding each other, their faces touching, she says what she´s dreading to say. “I have to go.”

People may be worried about her disappearing last night.

Rafe's expression shifts instantly, his face falling. He knew this was coming, but he didn't want to let her go. Not yet.

He holds her still, his arms wrapped tightly around her, as if to physically prevent her from leaving.

“No, baby,” he responds, his voice strained with desperation. “Please, can't you stay a little longer?”

She gives him a sad smile when he holds so much tighter. He didn’t want her to go. He didn’t want to let go of her. Neither did she.

“Kie might be worried,” she tells him, her voice barely above a whisper, as if the admission might make the weight of her words heavier. She knows he’s probably heard that after they broke up, she didn’t go back to live with her parents in their mansion. She couldn’t handle the thought of being in the same world as him, surrounded by the luxury and coldness of a life that felt so distant from the one she had with him.

The thought of returning to that world, to the emptiness of it all, made her feel suffocated, as if every corner of the mansion would remind her of everything she had lost. So, instead, she stayed with her pogue friends, people who didn’t judge her, who didn’t expect anything from her but to be herself, messy and broken as she was. They had offered her a refuge, a place to breathe, away from the world that had crumbled beneath her feet.

She wasn’t sure if Kie knew just how far she had fallen, how much she had sacrificed just to stay afloat. But she also didn’t want to explain the depth of her pain, the quiet loneliness that had become her constant companion. She just wanted to move on, to find a way to piece herself together, even if it meant living in the shadows of everything she had once thought was real.

Rafe’s heart sank further at the mention of Kie. He had known, deep down, that she’d likely spent time with the pogues since leaving him. But hearing it out loud felt like a punch to the gut. The thought of her sleeping under the pogues' roof, away from everything he had ever offered, served as a cold reminder of just how badly he had messed things up.

The image of her, curled up on a worn couch or in a cramped space with people who had nothing to do with their past, made the guilt in his chest grow heavier. It wasn’t that he didn’t know the bond she had with them; he had seen it himself, the way they accepted her without hesitation, the way they had been there for her when he wasn’t. But the idea of her living with them, away from the cold comfort of her family’s wealth, told him so much about where she was now. She had chosen authenticity over comfort, warmth over distance. She had chosen the people who had shown her real care, people who saw her for who she was, not for what she could be.

She chose them because they made her feel something he hadn’t made her feel in so long: safe, understood, loved without conditions. It was like a mirror to everything he had failed to give her.

Rafe had always known that her relationship with her parents was strained, even if she never spoke about it much. He’d seen the cracks in their interactions — the cold silences, the passive-aggressive comments, the way they barely looked at her unless they needed something. He had tried, in his own way, to heal the wounds that came with her family’s neglect. He had held her when she cried, whispered promises of safety when she felt lost in the echo of their judgment, tried to show her that she didn’t need their approval to be enough.

When they were together, he thought he was helping her heal, that he was giving her something better — love, security, understanding. He had wanted to be the one who made her feel worthy, who could make her forget the emptiness her parents left in her heart. He’d believed, with all his heart, that he could be the antidote to the poison they had fed her for so long.

But when they broke up, he never realized just how deep the damage went. He had been so consumed by his own hurt, by the end of them, that he didn’t stop to think about what she was going through. She never went back to her family’s mansion after they split. He had assumed she would, like anyone would in her situation — back to the comfort and luxury of her parents' world, where everything was polished and perfect, even if it came with strings attached.

Instead, she went to the pogues. And that choice, that one simple decision, hit him harder than anything else. It was a quiet admission that the one place she should have gone for refuge, the one place that was supposed to offer her shelter, had never truly been a home. It was the realization that everything he thought was better — everything he had tried to offer her — wasn’t enough to heal the parts of her that had been broken long before he ever came into her life.

He should have known. He should have seen it in her eyes every time she talked about her parents, every time they tried to reach out to her with their hollow love. But he hadn’t, and now, as he thought about it, the weight of it crushed him. He hadn’t realized how badly she had needed that support, how deeply her family’s absence had wounded her until it was too late.

He swallowed the pang of hurt he felt within him, but his arms remained locked around her tightly.

“Yeah, she probably is,” his voice was tight. “But can’t you stay a little longer? Just a bit more?”

She catches a glimpse of him swallowing the lump in his throat, his eyes flickering away for just a moment as if to hide the vulnerability creeping up on him. She thought he was probably holding back some biting comment, something that would inevitably turn into a fight like it always did before. But to her surprise, he stays quiet, his jaw clenched but his words still stuck somewhere between them.

She keeps watching him, studying the lines of his face, trying to make sense of the mix of emotions there — pain, regret, hope. She couldn’t tell if it was the same old cycle they always found themselves trapped in, or if this time, things might be different. Her heart thudded in her chest as she tried to make up her mind. It wasn’t easy, but then again, nothing between them ever had been.

“A couple of minutes more isn’t going to hurt,” she thinks to herself, almost as if she were giving herself permission to stay in this moment a little longer. Just a little longer. Because once it was over, once she stepped away, there was no going back.

“I’ll text her that I am safe,” she tells him as her fingers brush on his cheeks. “And then I’ll stay a little longer. Okay?”

Rafe's expression softens as her fingers graze over his cheeks, his tension melting away. Her words are like a balm to his anxious mind.

He nods slowly, his grip on her relaxed a fraction. “Yeah, okay. Just a few more minutes. That's all I'm asking for.” His arms remain wrapped around her, holding her close. He couldn’t bear the thought of letting her go just yet.

She couldn’t help but leave a soft kiss on his cheek, her lips grazing over his skin ever so slightly. She didn’t free herself from his tight hold, just turned around a bit to grab her phone from his nightstand.

She smiles when she sees the clothes she wore yesterday, clean and folded neatly next to it. The sight of them brings a wave of warmth, and her mind drifts back to the moment she had worn them — how sticky and damp they had been after her most grueling day, drenched from the ocean's waves that seemed to swallow her whole.

He had also given her a bath last night, his hands gentle and purposeful, as if he could erase all the weight from her. And then, when she had finally drifted to sleep in his arms, he stayed by her side, watching over her like she was something fragile, something worth protecting.

She was wearing only one of his shirts and his boxers, the fabric too big for her frame but comforting in its familiarity. The memory of how he had tucked her in, his warmth surrounding her, made her heart flutter despite everything that had come before. The tenderness of that moment — the care he had shown — felt like a lifeline, even in the midst of everything falling apart.

Rafe watched closely as she reached for her phone, his arms still loosely wrapped around her, his touch lingering like he wasn’t ready to let go just yet. Seeing her in his shirt, the way it hung off her frame so effortlessly, sent another shiver down his spine. It was a mix of tenderness and possessiveness, the soft, worn fabric a reminder of the closeness they once shared, and of how much had changed.

She typed out a quick message to Kie, telling her that she was fine but leaving out the details — where she was, who she was with. Rafe could see her fingers moving quickly over the screen, a quiet tension in the air between them. He couldn’t blame her for being vague. It wasn’t like things were clear between them. But still, watching her type, his heart pounded in his chest, unsure of what she was really thinking or what it all meant.

“So,” she says, turning her phone off and shifting her attention back to him, “Breakfast?”

Rafe lets out a small sigh of relief as she turns her phone off, the finality of it almost comforting. At least for now, it felt like they were in their own little world, no distractions, no pressing questions. He raises an eyebrow at her question, his eyes flicking to the clock above them. “I reckon it’s more like lunch by now,” he says softly, a small smirk playing at the corners of his mouth, trying to lighten the mood. He wasn’t sure where things were headed, but in this moment, with her here, he was willing to follow wherever it led.

She giggled softly at his words, that small smirk telling her that he was so comfortable with having her around.

“Lunch it is, then,” she replied with a casual shrug, though there was something uncertain in the way she moved. Rafe’s heart skips a beat when he hears her soft giggle, the sound of it like music to his ears, familiar and comforting in a way he hadn’t realized he missed. Without thinking, he tightens his arms around her just a little, savoring the simple feeling of having her in his presence again, so close, so real.

But as he does, his eyes drift to her body, noticing the way her clothes seem to hang a bit looser than before. He had seen the subtle change in her, the way she seemed smaller, thinner. At first, he thought it was just the aftermath of the breakup, the emotional toll, but now, it made his stomach twist in concern.

She had clearly lost weight after their split, and she was just starting to try to eat normally again. Kie had practically forced her into this recovery, and she was trying — really trying — to get better. But Rafe didn’t need to know the details of that, not yet.

Without even considering how it might sound, he asks, his voice soft but laced with worry, “Have you been eating properly?”

Her eyes snap to him when he asks the question so suddenly, catching her off guard. She hadn’t expected him to notice, hadn’t expected him to see through the subtle shifts. He had caught her, and in that moment, she felt a wave of shame wash over her. She didn’t want to lie to him, but there were things she wasn’t ready to talk about, things she wasn’t sure she could.

“I am now,” she replied, her voice steady, though her gaze avoided his. It wasn’t a lie, not exactly. She was trying to eat properly now. She was making an effort to take care of herself, even if it had been a struggle. The truth felt like something she could only admit in small, guarded pieces.

Rafe’s eyebrows furrow as he sees her reaction. He can tell he’s struck a nerve, and he’s instantly filled with a sense of guilt and concern. When she responds with ‘I am now’, his heart sinks. That wasn’t a yes, and that wasn't a no. It was an answer that left unanswered questions swirling in his mind.

He takes a shaky breath and nods slowly, trying to keep his voice steady.

“But before now?” he prompts, his voice barely above a whisper.

She rolled her eyes in annoyance when she noticed that he would not drop the conversation. But she knew he was just concerned so she sighed before answering.

“I wasn’t,” she says as my eyes drop to his hands, her fingers playing with his rings. “But I am trying now. That’s all that matters.”

Rafe's heart aches as she confirms that she hadn't been eating properly. It was like a punch to the gut. He knew it was partly his fault – the breakup had taken a toll on her as much as it had on him. But the thought of her not eating, of her neglecting herself - it was enough to make his blood boil.

He takes a deep breath, trying to keep his voice steady. “Why weren't you eating, baby?”

She rests her forehead against his chest for a moment, as if trying to hide from the weight of the truth. She knew she couldn’t keep quiet forever, though — the silence only made it worse. Taking a deep breath, she finally looks back up at him, her eyes filled with a mix of shame and frustration.

“I didn’t choose to not eat,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, trying to explain in the clearest way she could. She had to make him understand that she wasn’t relapsing into her eating disorder, even though the tightness in her chest felt like it might swallow her whole. “I just couldn’t get myself to do it anymore.”

The words seemed to hang between them, thick with the memories of how her struggle had always affected their relationship. There had been times before, when things were good, when she would push herself to eat just to be normal for him, for them. But there were other times — dark, quiet times — when the thought of food felt overwhelming, suffocating, and she couldn’t find the strength to make herself care. It had created a distance between them, a kind of unspoken pain. She had wanted him to help, wanted him to understand, but in the end, it felt like he had just watched her slip away, unable to bridge the gap between what she wanted to say and what she was actually feeling.

The breakup hit her harder than she had anticipated, not just emotionally, but physically too. The depression that followed felt like a heavy weight pressing down on her chest, making it hard to breathe, let alone take care of herself. The stress, the anxiety — it all piled up, and with it, the familiar, destructive eating habits returned. She stopped eating regularly, stopped caring about anything beyond just getting through the day. The loneliness, the sadness, made food seem like an afterthought. She would skip meals, forget to eat, or force herself to eat just enough to keep going, but never really nourish herself.

She had been trying to avoid the downward spiral that had taken over her before, but it was like she was caught in a cycle she couldn’t break. The pain from the breakup intensified everything — the way she saw herself, the way she felt about her body, the guilt of not being able to maintain any sense of control. It had felt easier to just disappear into the chaos of her thoughts than to deal with the overwhelming emotions of loss and self-doubt.

But now, slowly, she was coming back on track. She was trying to break free from the habits that had been so deeply ingrained, reminding herself that healing wasn’t just about moving on from the breakup — it was about taking care of herself, about learning to nourish her body and her spirit again. It wasn’t easy, and some days were harder than others, but she was trying. And that, she knew, was the first step to finding herself again.

Rafe swallows down another pang of guilt that wells up inside him. He knew that the breakup had shaken her, but he hadn’t considered the extent of it. The fact that she couldn’t bring herself to eat – it broke his heart.

He had seen the changes, the way she’d seemed distant and withdrawn. It was like a punch to his gut, the realization that his departure had only pushed her further into a place she had been fighting so hard to escape. He couldn’t help but feel guilty. He had always tried to fix things, to help her when she was struggling with those demons, but he had failed her when it mattered most. He hadn’t been there, hadn’t noticed the subtle signs that she was slipping back into old patterns. The guilt gnawed at him, a constant reminder of how he had walked away without fully understanding the consequences. He had thought that leaving would make things easier, for both of them, but now he saw the damage it had caused.

But then, there was a flicker of hope when she spoke about coming back on track. She was trying. And that realization — small as it was — stirred something deep within him. He knew it wouldn’t be easy for her, that recovery wasn’t something that happened overnight. But hearing her say it, hearing her take the first steps toward healing, made him wonder if there was a chance, maybe just a slim one, for them to rebuild what they had lost.

He wanted to be there for her, more than anything. He wanted to be the one who helped her through this, who supported her as she fought to find herself again. But he also knew that it wasn’t up to him to fix her, to be the one to save her. That was something only she could do for herself. Still, the thought of being part of that journey — if she’d let him — was enough to make his heart race.

He pulls her close again, his arms wrapping around her tightly, as if he could somehow make up for his mistakes.

“Nut you’re eating now, right?” he pressed gently. “You’re taking care of yourself?”

She nodded softly at his questions, forcing a smile to reassure him. She was taking care of herself even though it was a struggle.

“Yeah,” she tells him in a whisper. “My friends helped me a lot,” she says. Kie and Sarah had her back while she was slipping into that dark place.

Rafe takes a moment to process her words, his expression softening slightly. He was relieved to know that she had people there for her while she was struggling, despite how much it hurt to think of her relying on other people for support.

He let out a shaky sigh, his arms still wrapped tightly around her. “And you’re better now?” he asked, his voice filled with a mix of hope and trepidation.

She tried to take her mind off of the dark parts of what she’s been through, so she did what she did best to distract herself. Her fingers were slowly tracing and mapping every single detail of his skin. Him being shirtless helped her to focus on each little freckle on his shoulders and chest.

“I am,” she told him in honest words. She was better. Especially now that she is in his arms.

He felt a shiver of pleasure down his spine as her fingers traced over his skin, his body responding to her touch even if his mind was elsewhere.

Her answer – soft and honest, but filled with hope – made his heart skip a beat. He held her closer, the feeling of having her back in his arms and the reassurance that she was getting better lifting a weight off his shoulders.

He let out a shaky breath, his voice full of emotion. “Good. That’s good, baby. I’m glad.”

She can’t help but giggle at the sound of him calling her baby once again. Last night it felt like a distant dream to be with him again. And now it was so real. She was afraid of waking up.

She felt like staying in bed with him for eternity.

As her sweet giggle met his ears, Rafe felt a familiar warmth spread through his chest. It was a sound he had missed dearly in the time they'd been apart.

He held her tight, his arms wrapped snugly around her as if to hold her in his reality. He shared her fear of this being a dream, of her slipping out of his grasp like sand.

He chuckled softly in response. “If we stay in bed all day, we won’t have any lunch,” he teased gently.

She bit her lower lip in an attempt to hold back a big smile. Her fingers kept tracing every inch of his skin, memorizing his every spot.

“I wouldn’t mind,” she confessed in a heartbeat.

Rafe’s heart skipped a beat at her confession, his body responding to her touch with a shiver that rippled through him. He couldn’t deny that he wanted nothing more than to spend the day in bed with his girl, her body pressed against his, their hands exploring every inch of skin. But he also knew that neither of them had eaten yet, and he didn’t want to encourage her already poor eating habits. He took a deep breath, willing his heart to slow down.

“We should eat something, baby,” he said, his voice huskier than he intended.

She hummed in agreement with his statement. We should eat something. Together. God, they were together again. She couldn’t believe that.

Rafe felt his breath hitch as she leaned in and kissed his cheek again, her soft whisper sending a shiver through him. It was such a small gesture, but it carried a weight that he couldn’t ignore. He had missed this — the quiet, tender moments that had always felt so effortless between them. Now, each one felt like a fragile thread connecting them, and he was terrified of pulling too hard and breaking it.

He couldn’t help but notice the careful distance she was maintaining, though. It wasn’t physical, not entirely, but there was a hesitance in her movements, a deliberate slowness that told him she was holding back. And he understood why. Since the breakup, there had been nothing even remotely intimate between them — not a kiss, not a touch that lingered too long. It was as if they were both treading carefully, afraid of rushing into something that could crumble under the weight of their unresolved issues.

He admired her for it, though. She was right — taking things slow was probably the best way to rebuild what they had lost. But part of him struggled with the restraint. He wanted to pull her into his arms, to kiss her like he used to, to feel that undeniable connection that had always been there. Yet, he knew that pushing too hard, too fast, would only risk undoing everything they were trying to piece back together.

As much as it killed him to wait, he realized that this was about more than just what he wanted. It was about her, about earning back her trust and showing her that he was willing to do this the right way. If slow was what she needed, then slow was what he’d give her — even if every fiber of his being ached for more.

He took a shaky breath and loosened his grip on her a fraction, trying to calm the heat that was building within him.

“Come on,” he said, his voice still raspy from the weight of the morning. “Let's get something to eat.”

She let him slip from her arms as he got up from the bed, his hand reaching out to hers. His grip was soft but insistent, pulling her gently to her feet. Standing there in nothing but his shirt, she felt a pang of discomfort, not because she was self-conscious, but because of the memories it brought back. This house had once been theirs. Their sanctuary. Their home.

As they walked through the familiar halls, the silence between them was heavy with unspoken thoughts. The echoes of laughter, arguments, and quiet moments filled her mind. They had lived together for months before everything unraveled. She remembered how quickly it all fell apart — the night he told her he didn’t want her anymore, the way she packed her things in a haze of heartbreak, and how she’d walked out without looking back. Instead of returning to her parents' house, which had never felt like home, she sought refuge with Kie, burying herself in a world far removed from this one.

“It looks the same,” she mumbled as they stepped into the kitchen, her eyes scanning the room that once felt so alive with them.

Rafe walked beside her, his jaw tight as memories crashed over him. He hadn’t changed much about the house since she left. It was as if he’d been unable to. Each corner, each piece of furniture, held traces of her — moments he both cherished and regretted. Seeing her there now, moving through the space like a ghost of the past, sent an ache through his chest.

“Yeah, it does,” he replied softly, his voice tinged with something between sorrow and longing. “Nothing's changed much.”

He wanted to say more, to tell her how empty the house had felt without her, how he had tried to ignore the hollow quiet that crept in after she left. But the words stuck in his throat. Instead, he moved toward the kitchen counter, opening the fridge as if focusing on something as simple as breakfast could dull the ache in his chest.

That gut-wrenching feeling hit her like a tidal wave, threatening to pull her under. She couldn’t stop it. It was as if she was being swallowed by the sea of heartbreak all over again. Nothing’s changed much, he’d said. The words twisted like a knife in her chest. Because everything had changed for her. She had hit rock bottom, been reduced to a shadow of herself. She had turned into a mess, clawing her way back to some semblance of stability. But him? He looked the same. Untouched. Like none of it had mattered.

“I see,” she muttered, a bitter snort escaping her lips. She wasn’t trying to be cruel, but the memories stung too much. He had another girl in his arms just days after their breakup. Hell, she remembered how he had been with someone else just last night. How could he stand there now, acting like any of it meant something?

Rafe flinched at her tone, closing the fridge, a pang of guilt surging through his chest. He knew he hadn’t been fair to her — not in the breakup, not in the aftermath. He had handled it like a coward, grasping for anything to numb the pain. He saw the hurt etched on her face now, and it only deepened the regret that had been gnawing at him since the moment she left.

Running a hand through his hair, his expression crumbled into something raw and pained. “I know I messed up,” he admitted, his voice thick with remorse. “Trust me, I know.”

He stepped closer to her, closing the distance between them with hesitant steps. His eyes searched hers, desperate to make her understand. “But I was just trying to move on,” he said, the words falling heavy between them. “Just like you.”

The tears welled up in her eyes before she could stop them. Her body began to tremble, and she crossed her arms tightly over her chest, as if trying to hold herself together. She felt exposed, vulnerable, like he could see every fracture in her heart.

“I wasn’t trying to move on,” she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. Her eyebrows furrowed as she met his gaze, the weight of her words breaking her all over again. “I was trying to survive.”

Her admission hung in the air like a thundercloud, and Rafe felt like the ground had shifted beneath him. He hadn’t realized the depth of her struggle, hadn’t understood just how much she had endured. For the first time, he saw her pain not as an echo of his own, but as something far deeper and more consuming. It left him standing there, utterly speechless.

The sight of her tears was unbearable, a sharp dagger twisting deeper with every tremor of her body. Watching her struggle to keep herself together unraveled something in Rafe, breaking him apart in a way he hadn't known was possible. He reached out, hesitant, his hand hovering over her shoulder, as if afraid to touch and cause more damage.

“Baby...” he murmured, his voice soft, trembling with an emotion he could barely hold back.

Her words stopped him cold. I was trying to survive. Each syllable cut through the haze of his guilt, striking at the very core of him. His chest tightened as the weight of her suffering pressed on him like a physical force.

She shut her eyes, the sound of his voice too much to bear. It was all too raw, too overwhelming. She loved this man — loved him in a way that terrified her, in a way that made her feel both alive and utterly destroyed. But that love came with scars, ones she wasn’t sure she could heal.

“No, it’s fine,” she whispered on a shaky sigh, her lashes wet as she forced herself to meet his gaze again. She tried to push away the tears, to find some strength in the chaos. “I can’t give us another chance if we keep going back to the past.”

Rafe’s hand fell to his side, his shoulders slumping under the weight of her words. She was right, and the realization stung. He couldn’t undo what he’d done, couldn’t erase the nights she spent crying or the days she fought to keep herself afloat. He took a deep breath, his voice a mixture of pain and fragile hope.

“So, what do we do then?” he asked quietly, the vulnerability in his tone almost breaking her resolve.

She bit her lower lip, contemplating his question. They had already decided to take it slow, to tread carefully this time. If there was any hope of making this work, they couldn’t rush back into the storm. They needed to rebuild, piece by piece, to do things differently and finally get it right. She took a deep breath, sliding onto the kitchen counter as she tried to lighten the weight of the moment.

“Coffee?” she asked, a soft smile breaking through the tension, fragile but genuine. One thing at a time.

Rafe felt his heart skip at the sight of her smile, so small yet so full of meaning. It was a flicker of light in the darkness, a tentative promise of something better. He couldn’t help but smile back, a tenderness in his eyes that had been absent for far too long.

He glanced at the coffee machine, then back at her. “Yeah” he replied, his voice still tinged with the weight of their conversation but softening with her warmth. “Coffee sounds perfect.”

For a moment, the kitchen felt less like a battlefield and more like a haven, a fragile space where healing might begin. He walked to the coffee machine, his movements steady, deliberate. The simple act of brewing coffee was grounding, a small ritual of normalcy in the middle of so much emotional chaos.

She sat quietly on the counter, her eyes fixed on him as he worked. The way he moved — effortless, familiar — was mesmerizing. The rich aroma of brewing coffee filled the room, wrapping the kitchen in a comforting warmth that felt almost like home. It was almost cruel how easily the moment mimicked their past, as if time hadn’t pulled them apart, as if heartbreak hadn’t carved deep wounds into both of them.

Her gaze lingered, absorbing every detail of him. The concentration in his face, the way his hands moved with practiced ease. Her heart ached, heavy with the love she still carried for him. God, she still loves this man.

Rafe was painfully aware of her eyes on him. He could feel the weight of her gaze, the unspoken tension curling around them like a fragile thread. It wasn’t uncomfortable — it was grounding, like the coffee. A reminder of everything he’d missed, of the connection that still pulsed between them despite the scars.

As the coffee finished brewing, he turned to her, his voice soft, almost hesitant. “How do you take it?”

Her heart clenched at the question. Something so mundane had become a symbol of how much had changed. Once, he knew the answer without asking. Now, the question hung between them, a stark reminder of the distance they had to bridge.

“Black. No sugar,” she said, her tone clipped. Once, she couldn’t stand coffee without cream and sugar. After the breakup, it became a metaphor for survival — plain and bitter, just like her days without him.

Rafe’s chest tightened at her reply. He remembered her sweet tooth, how she used to grin as she added scoop after scoop of sugar to her mug. Now, the bitterness seemed to mirror something inside her. As he poured the coffee into two mugs, he wondered how much else had changed about her — how much of it was because of him.

He handed her a mug — her mug. The one with the Snoopy drawing. The one he had bought for her after her obsession with Snoopy began. Her fingers brushed against his as she took it, and she couldn’t suppress a soft laugh, her eyes lighting up in a way he hadn’t seen in what felt like forever.

“I can’t believe you still have this,” she said, her voice touched with surprise and a glimmer of warmth. Rafe felt a flicker of relief and hope at her reaction. A small victory. He shrugged lightly, a faint smile pulling at his lips. “Of course I still have it. You love that damn dog.”

Her laugh came again, soft and melodic, like a balm to his aching heart. She held the mug close to her chest, biting her lower lip to suppress the emotions rising within her. The Snoopy mug — the symbol of something so simple, so pure — felt like a thread tying her back to him.

“It means a lot,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “That you kept it.”

Rafe’s gaze softened, and he reached out, his fingers grazing hers on the mug. His voice was low, trembling slightly with emotion. “I couldn’t get rid of it. It was a part of you.” He paused, his breath hitching as he met her eyes. “And I never wanted to forget you.”

Her lips parted, but no words came. Instead, a soft, involuntary groan escaped her throat, the sound raw and filled with yearning. There he was — her Rafe. The man who had once held her heart so carefully, now standing before her with his soul bared.

“I’m glad,” she whispered, her voice cracking with vulnerability. She wasn’t ready to say more, but her heart swelled at the thought that, even when apart, he had held space for her.

Rafe exhaled shakily, her simple words hitting him with a force he hadn’t anticipated. “How could I forget you?” he asked, his voice trembling. “You’re etched into my soul, baby.”

Her eyes closed for a moment, her body trembling at his words. When she opened them again, she looked up at him, her lips quivering. “Do you mean that?” she asked, her voice filled with desperate hope.

His hand found hers again, their fingers intertwining as though they belonged nowhere else. “Yes,” he said, his voice firm despite the vulnerability in his eyes. “You’re in every part of me. Every breath, every heartbeat — you’re a part of me.”

Rafe watched her closely, his heart pounding as she processed his words. Her silence spoke volumes — an unspoken dialogue passing between them, heavy with the weight of their shared history.

She bit her lower lip, a gesture he knew so well, trying to steady herself. When she nodded softly, her gaze falling to their joined hands, he felt a surge of emotion so strong it almost overwhelmed him. The way their fingers intertwined felt so natural, so right, as though they had never been apart.

He couldn’t look away from her, couldn’t stop himself from reaching out to gently lift her chin so she was forced to meet his gaze. His thumb brushed lightly against her jawline, his eyes searching hers for the answers to questions he was too afraid to ask aloud.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he said softly, his voice a quiet promise. “But I need you to know... I’m not letting you go again. Not without a fight.”

Her chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, the vulnerability in his words threatening to break through the walls she had so carefully rebuilt. She wanted to believe him — wanted to let herself fall into the warmth of his presence — but the memories of the pain he’d caused lingered like shadows in the corners of her mind.

Still, the way he looked at her now, like she was the only person in the world, made it hard to hold onto the anger. She gave his hand a gentle squeeze, her eyes glistening as she whispered, “I don’t know if I can handle being hurt again, Rafe.”

Her words were a dagger to his heart, but he understood. He knew he didn’t deserve her trust — not yet — but he was determined to earn it.

“You won’t be,” he promised, his voice firm yet tender. “I swear to you, I’ll spend every day proving that I’m not the same man who let you go.”

She let out a shaky breath, her resolve softening ever so slightly. Looking down at their joined hands again, she couldn’t deny the comfort his touch brought her. Maybe, just maybe, this time could be different. But for now, she allowed herself the smallest sliver of hope as she whispered, “One step at a time.”

Rafe’s thumb continued its gentle caress, his touch trembling slightly as though he was terrified she might pull away. His eyes, those piercing blue eyes she once got lost in so easily, were heavy with a tenderness she hadn’t seen in what felt like forever. He wasn’t just looking at her; he was baring his soul, silently pleading for her to see the man he so desperately wanted to be for her.

Her words, soft and uncertain, echoed in his mind: I don’t know if I can handle being hurt again. They struck him like a bolt of lightning, raw and real, cutting through every layer of guilt, regret, and love he carried for her. He had hurt her in ways he couldn’t even begin to forgive himself for, and yet here she was — still in front of him, still within reach.

His fingers tightened just slightly on her hand, as if anchoring himself to this fragile moment. “You have no idea how much I hate myself for hurting you,” he said, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. “Every day, I think about what I did. How I broke something so beautiful… so good.” He swallowed hard, his gaze dropping briefly before he forced himself to meet her eyes again. “You deserved better than me back then. And I don’t know if I’ll ever deserve you now, but I’ll spend the rest of my life trying if you let me.”

Her lip quivered as she listened to his words, the vulnerability in his voice tugging at the walls she had built so carefully around her heart. She wanted to stay strong, wanted to shield herself from the possibility of pain, but the sincerity in his eyes was disarming in a way she hadn’t expected.

“I loved you so much, Rafe,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, as though saying it too loudly might shatter her. “I gave you everything. And when you…” Her breath hitched as she blinked back the tears threatening to spill. “It felt like I wasn’t enough. Like I’d never be enough for anyone.”

Rafe’s heart broke all over again at her confession, his chest tightening with an ache he couldn’t put into words. He stepped closer, his free hand moving to cup her cheek as he gently tilted her face toward his. “Don’t you ever think that,” he said, his voice low and thick with emotion. “You are enough. You’ve always been enough. I was the one who wasn’t. I was scared, and I let my fear ruin the best thing that ever happened to me.”

She blinked, the tears slipping down her cheeks despite her attempts to hold them back. His thumb brushed them away with the same tenderness that used to make her feel safe. The warmth of his hand, the earnestness in his eyes — it was too much, and yet it wasn’t enough.

“Why now?” she asked, her voice trembling. “Why are you saying all this now?”

Rafe hesitated, his eyes searching hers for a moment before he answered. “Because I realized I was lying to myself, thinking I could live without you,” he admitted, his voice raw. “I thought it’d be easier to move on, to forget, but all I did was carry the weight of losing you everywhere I went. I don’t want to live like that anymore. I don’t want to live without you anymore.”

Her breath caught in her throat at the confession, her mind warring between the lingering hurt and the undeniable pull of the love she still felt for him. “I don’t know if I can just… jump back in,” she whispered, her eyes filled with both fear and longing. “I need to know this is real, Rafe. I need to know you mean it.”

He leaned closer, his forehead gently resting against hers. “It’s real,” he said, his voice a soft, steady promise. “I mean it with everything I have. I’ll prove it to you every day, in every way, for as long as it takes. Just… don’t give up on me. On us.”

Her tears fell freely now, but for the first time, they weren’t entirely out of pain. She didn’t know what the future held, didn’t know if they could truly rebuild what had been broken. But as she felt the warmth of his hands, the honesty in his words, and the depth of emotion in his eyes, she allowed herself to believe — if only for a moment — that maybe, just maybe, they could try.

“One step at a time,” she whispered, her voice barely steady but filled with quiet resolve.

Rafe nodded, a faint, hopeful smile tugging at his lips. “One step at a time,” he echoed, his hand lingering on hers as though he never wanted to let go.

Rafe watches her struggle to steady herself, her teeth catching her lower lip as her eyes drift downward. He can see the storm of emotions swirling within her, reflecting his own turmoil. Every fiber of him aches to close the space between them, to pull her into his arms and never let go. But he knows better — they need to tread carefully, to rebuild what was broken piece by piece.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly, his voice carrying a tenderness that makes her chest tighten.

She draws a shaky breath, lifting her gaze to meet his. A faint smile graces her lips, fragile but genuine. She nods, her fingers lightly tracing his in an effort to calm the unease. “Yeah,” she whispers, though her voice betrays her vulnerability. “I’m just… overwhelmed.” She doesn’t elaborate; she doesn’t need to. Rafe understands without her having to explain.

He nods, his focus never wavering from her face. He feels it too — this bittersweet tension, this dizzying mixture of hope and pain. The sheer weight of being in each other’s presence again. Gently, he lifts her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “It’s a lot, I know,” he murmurs against her skin. “But we’ll take it slow, okay?”

A quiet sigh escapes her as his lips brush her knuckles. It’s a touch so delicate, so thoughtful, and entirely Rafe. Her Rafe. “Okay,” she whispers, her gaze locking with his. The rawness in his eyes mirrors her own, as if the world around them has dissolved, leaving only this fragile moment between them.

Rafe’s heart flutters under the weight of her stare. He takes her hand to his chest, resting it above his pounding heart. “Feel that?” he asks, his voice low and trembling. “That’s for you, baby.”

Her breath hitches, her chest tightening at his words. She feels the steady rhythm beneath her palm, his heartbeat telling her all the things he can’t yet put into words. Tears prick her eyes, but she forces a weak smile as she leans in closer, resting her forehead gently against his.

“You can’t say stuff like that,” she murmurs, her voice laced with a desperate plea. Her palm remains pressed to his chest, feeling his warmth, his sincerity.

Rafe’s breath catches at the closeness, their noses brushing, their breaths mingling in the narrow space between them. His free hand moves to cradle her face, his thumb tracing soft circles against her cheek. “Why not?” he rasps, his voice raw. “It’s the truth.”

Her resolve falters under his touch, his tenderness breaking through her defenses. Their bodies draw closer, her knees parting instinctively as he steps between her legs, grounding them both in this moment. She lets her hands slide from his chest to his shoulders, up to his neck, and finally to the back of his head, her fingers grazing his buzzed hair with an intimacy that feels achingly familiar.

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted,” she confesses, her voice breaking. She’s raw, exposed, unable to hide the depth of her longing. “For you to hold me when it got too hard. For you to stay.”

Rafe’s heart clenches at her words, the weight of his past mistakes crushing him. His hands find her waist, pulling her closer as he buries his face into the crook of her neck. His lips brush against her skin, and his voice is a shaky whisper. “I know, baby. I know. I should’ve never left you.”

His hold tightens as his body trembles against hers. “But I won’t make that mistake again,” he promises, his voice thick with emotion. “Never again.”

A soft sound escapes her, caught between a sigh and a sob, as his desperation pulls her closer. She lets him hold her, their shared heartache intertwining in the quiet embrace. His words resonate deeply within her, but she says nothing, letting her fingers soothe the tension in his scalp, grounding him as much as he grounds her.

When he pulls back, his blue eyes meet hers, shimmering with emotion. “You’re too good to me,” he whispers, guilt and gratitude lacing every word. “I don’t deserve you.”

Her fingers trace the lines of his face, soft and reassuring. A faint giggle escapes her lips as she shakes her head. “You’re right,” she teases gently, offering a smirk to lighten the heaviness between them. “But I’m here. That has to count for something.”

Rafe chuckles softly, his heart swelling at the warmth in her words. He leans into her touch, covering her hand with his. “It counts for everything,” he murmurs. “The fact that you’re here, giving me another chance… it’s more than I could ever ask for.”

Her smile softens at his earnestness, her thumb brushing over his cheekbone. “We deserve another chance,” she says, her voice steady and filled with quiet conviction. She believes it, wholly and deeply.

His hand tightens over hers, his gaze unwavering. “We do,” he agrees, the words carrying the weight of his regret and the hope for a future that feels just within reach. This time, he wouldn’t falter. This time, he would hold onto her with everything he had.

"I should go now," she says, her voice quieter than she intended, her eyes flicking to the clock on the kitchen wall. It’s a quarter to one. She has plans to meet Kie soon, but that’s not the only reason.

Rafe’s heart drops at her words, an ache blooming in his chest. The thought of her leaving, of her walking out that door again, is almost unbearable. But he masks his disappointment with a small nod, trying to respect her space. “Yeah, of course,” he says, though there’s a faint tremor in his voice.

He steps closer to her, his hands finding her hips, his touch hesitant yet magnetic. He pulls her closer, their bodies aligning as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Just… promise me you’ll come back, okay?” His voice carries a plea, raw and vulnerable.

Her breath catches at the sudden closeness, her chest tightening as his warmth envelops her. His hands on her hips feel both comforting and terrifying, grounding her while stirring a panic she can’t quite suppress. She sighs, her body betraying her turmoil, leaning into the familiarity even as her mind screams to run.

She tries to smile, forcing her lips to curve as she meets his gaze. “We’ll talk, okay?” It’s the only answer she can give. She doesn’t know if she’ll come back — not because she doesn’t want to, but because she’s not sure she can survive being hurt again. Her heart is a mess, fragile and aching, and the weight of his presence only magnifies her confusion.

Rafe searches her face, his grip on her hips tightening ever so slightly, as if anchoring himself to her. “Yeah,” he murmurs, the uncertainty in her words echoing in his own. “We’ll talk.”

He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. It’s tender and unhurried, a quiet act of affection that sends shivers down her spine. She closes her eyes for a brief moment, letting the warmth of his lips linger, fighting the urge to lose herself in the safety of his embrace.

But when his lips leave her skin, she feels the emptiness creep back in. Her heart clenches painfully, and she pulls back, breaking the connection. “I really should go,” she says again, more firmly this time, her voice trembling despite herself.

Rafe watches her retreat, his hands slipping reluctantly from her hips. He doesn’t stop her, doesn’t push, even though everything in him wants to. Instead, he nods, a faint, bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. “Okay,” he says softly. “I’ll be here… whenever you’re ready.”

She swallows hard, her emotions threatening to spill over as she takes a step back. “Bye, Rafe,” she whispers, her voice almost inaudible.

[aklaustaleteller]

Some Invisible String

Ever since the news of Klaus' death reached her, Y/n's heart remained shattered as she happily accepted the sole purpose of her immortal life to be mourning her love. But then a looming shadow out of the Mystic Grill catches her attention and to whom is it that some invisible string had tied to her for centuries?

Warnings - a lot of grief in the beginning but it ends happily I swear!

Word Count - 1.9k

Masterlist | please reblog the fic if you like it!

And part two to 'Should've known' is here!! I don't know how the hell did I manage to involve the song Invisible String into this, but it's turned out to be quite cute in my opinion, so I hope you like it as well <3

Y/n lived on to live a life as merely a withered shell of who she used to be. That new vampire girl who had found solace in Klaus’s human arms and in art, the one who had just begun falling back in love with life was long gone, stripped off of Y/n as if she’d been skinned alive.

Doing anything sent a heartstopping wave of hurt rippling through her flesh and bones. When she breathed it felt like air burned her lungs and tried to strangle her heart, leaving her mouth as she'd wake up gasping for it to return back inside and finish the job. 

Tears pricked her eyes each night, her sniffles blocking out the air making her throat feel like it was being ripped out, her lungs and heart as if they were collapsing. That’d be, until she’d finally fall into that peaceful slumber in which she’d always return to lay in Klaus’ arms after being torutured by the grief that consumed her wholly.  

So wholly that her sole purpose for the immortal life ahead of her felt like it was to mourn and grieve her love. Something that she’d been willing to do just to preserve her love for him, for always and forever. 

But living in a world that took birth, grew old and then died, Y/n could go anywhere she wanted, anywhere but home to Klaus. She was left with no other option than to just flee before she could even mistakenly call a place her home. 

It had been three hundred years. Three hundred years of restless nights, lifeless days and a heartless blood thirst that had her leaving a trail of blood behind on her move. So many years spent hiding her face beneath cloak-hoods, running into other supernatural creatures who were immediately frightened by her post in the vampire chart, and running away from the stupidly careless killers who couldn’t wrap their heads around the fact that were she to die, every single vampire would end up dead too. 

It was rare for her to lose her patience, but it happened nonetheless – on the nights that she wanted to be wanted, to be loved and to be held so desperately that she couldn’t bear sight of a beating heart that was caged in the warmth of another’s safe hands.

No matter where she went, she couldn’t forget about him. It had taken her a while to realise that she didn’t want to forget him,  but in the meantime that she hadn’t, she had turned away from everything else that she loved. From art, to history. Everything. 

She avoided all of her dark red dresses as they reminded her of him never once failing to tell her how much he loved the colour on her, so much so that he’d bring that colour to her face while he’d slowly slip the dress off of her. So gentle was his heart that he even loved the crimson red that would slip out of the corners of her mouth when she’d feed, either off of him or anyone else – the way he’d wipe it off for her, and kiss her on the very same lips made her heart race to the point that she felt like she might just die from his touch. 

On letting another hand graze her frame, she couldn’t help but stop it before things could escalate because her heart couldn’t let her mind to just let go for a little. Looks of disappointment and calls of slurs would be thrown at her by betrayed men, smirks or sympathetic looks passed to her by women who were witnesses to the assault.

Despite the cunning shards of her broken heart cutting her on the insides, she woke up every day and went outside to explore, just so that she could tell Klaus about it on starry nights, which were getting rarer and rarer in some places, Y/n had realised. 

Just like every other morning since the past fifty or so years, she woke up and got decent before leaving her house. This day, she was walking the streets of Mystic falls, a small town that might’ve been attracting a little too much trouble than it can handle. And it was always the teenage girl with two vampires brooding over her who seemed to be the main magnetic pull, taking everyone who loved her with her into the dark pit that she’d dug herself.

Strolling inside the Mystic Grill, Y/n looked around and her eyes quickly met with the raven-haired man’s, who waved at her like he was a Villain going around toying with people like his puppets. It made her chuckle but despite that, she walked over to him and sat on one of the bar stools beside him. 

“One Old fashioned please,” she told the bartender before turning to face him with a smile on her face. “So Damon, got another deal to make this morning?” She teased him, smirking once he was rolling his eyes. 

“You know me so well,” with a sarcastic smile, Damon downed the rest of his drink. “And yes, I have got one,” he admitted, still. 

Since she’d set foot in this town, the whiny group that consisted of him and his friends had been breathing down her neck, trying to strike a deal with her left right and centre as if she was going to say yes just out of pure annoyance. 

And they should’ve caught by now, the fact that she wasn’t one to lose patience over such lousy things but she didn’t mind the constant bother, it kept her busy and a little entertainer, dare she say. 

She would even sit with them in their boarding house and point out the unimaginably huge plot holes in their plans that led Damon to slam her into a wall with his hand around her neck. “You make one for her if you’re so clever, then,” he’d snarl and before he could let her go, she’d have smashed his face right into the wall she’d been pinned to. 

“How stupid do you have to be to make such mistakes is beyond me,” she’d sighed. “One of these days you’re going to get your heart bloody ripped out,” she almost advised him, narrowing her eyes when he rolled his, holding his head in pain. 

But still, because she’d crashed into people who were somewhat similar to her and didn’t need to hide from, she found herself wanting to stay a little longer, maybe she was finally going to let it rest and begin picking up the pieces of her broken heart. She doubted she was ever going to be able to put it back together, but at least she would have them picked up. 

“What is it?” She asked Damon, knowing that even he knew that it’d be rejected the moment he’d spill it.  

“We are going to kill Katherin…” Damon trailed off, not even meeting her eyes because despite the fact that he’d convinced everyone back at the house, he knew that this was nothing but a dire call for a mess out of stupidity. 

They sat in there for a while, Y/n pointing out mistakes and Damon glaring at her before fixing the hole and moving on. The time had quickly escaped them and as their conversation neared an end, a strong force of gravity began pulling her heart down into her stomach, knowing that the restless night was finally creeping up on her, all over again.

She hugged him quite awkwardly because of Damon’s disdain regarding touch, and walked behind him as they exited the place. The sun had begun setting, causing the anxiousness inside Y/n to begin eating away at her for the night. “I hope I won’t have to see you tomorrow, you exhaust my brain,” Y/n mumbled, fishing out her car keys. 

“Oh c’mon, you know my stupidity will kill me,” he repeated her words, making her roll her eyes with a grin forming on her face. Biding their goodbyes, Damon crossed the road to walk home while Y/n went to her right, towards her car. 

And it was then when she noticed a dark figure looming in the shadows, making her clutch her keys tighter. God, she truly wasn’t in the mood to kill today. 

“And you are?” She asked, still at the very distance that she’d stalled at, her vamp-instincts buzzing underneath her skin, preparing her to defend herself from a possible attack and to kill the darer. 

The man walked out of the shadows then, the streetlight shining down on him. He slowly raised his gaze but when it landed on her face, all arrogance and smugness dropped down from his face as he felt his breathing come to an abrupt stop.

Y/n knew she most likely had the same expression on her face as the man standing in front of her, and she began taking hindering and wobbly steps towards him. “Is that you, Nik?” She breathed, her whisper loud enough to be caught by his mystical hearing. 

When he didn’t move an inch, her hand frantically moved to place itself on his neck. “Niklaus?” She called louder this time, bringing him out of his trance as a sudden rush of air hit his lungs. 

“Y/n,” he whispered, his hand coming to hold hers and in whoosh they had their arms wrapped so tightly around each other that it was a surprise not a bone had cracked. Klaus’ body immediately came to rest as it remembered this feeling to be the very same as when Y/n used to hold him, back in the days. 

Klaus was really here and she was in his arms, and he was holding onto her with just as much desperation as she was.

She brought herself away from his neck, tears leaking out of her eyes as she scanned his face. “How?” Her question came out in a breath that Klaus immediately sucked in, pressing his lips to hers. 

Passion coursed through their bodies as Y/n’s body moulded itself around Klaus’ to grasp at every scrap of touch it could find. Her hands clutched the collars of his jacket, pulling him impossibly closer to herself while she pushed herself into him, her nose smushing against his cheek.

And Klaus’s shoulders were bunched up beside his neck as his hands cupped her cheeks, holding her still as his tongue clashed with hers, eager to claim back what's been his for a long time. 

To catch their breaths, they broke the kiss but Klaus made sure he was still holding her and he looked into her eyes when she rested her forehead against his’. 

“It was your blood,” Klaus smiled at her, watching something light up within her eyes on realisation.

“I’ve spent all these years looking for you,” he continued, pressing a quick kiss on her mouth. “It was as if there was some invisible string, tying me to you,” he looked at her so softly with tears reddening his eyes that Y/n couldn’t help but let slip a broken sob, her face wet with her own tears. 

“Isn’t it so pretty to think?” She asked him, voice barely above a whisper as her mouth brushed against his when she spoke. “That a single thread of gold tied me to you?”

[cooneyscross]

I loved you Leah Williamson fic! I was wondering if you could do a Lucy Bronze x matildas reader where reader and lucy both player for barca and then they verse each other in the world cup semi final

Don't Be Sorry - Lucy Bronze

Lucy bronze x matildas!reader

summary - the Matildas lose to England in the semi final of the womens world cup and you take the blame.

warnings - death threats and hate comments

90+ minutes of you playing your heart out, the hope of a World Cup final promised if your team could get the result you desperately wanted slipped through your fingers as the dreaded sound of the full-time whistle rang through your mind. You collapse to the floor, face buried in your hands as you feel your tears wet the floor around you. The salty taste burned your already parched throat as you sobbed into your hand.

You were never an emotional person over football, but you had the weight of an entire country resting on your shoulders and you had let them down.

This was the moment you had spent your life working towards, ever since you were 4 years old, when you first watched a game of women's football you had made it your goal to one day be like the women you had seen on your screen. You promised yourself that one day you would represent your country in a World Cup, and now that dream had become reality you had stuffed everything up.

The haunting images of the ball flying past you and into the net still haunts you. You had the chance to stop the ball from going in but stuck your leg out too far and the ball went right past.

Not only did you feel like you had let down your fans, you had let down your teammates as well. It was your job as the team's main center-back to stop the goals and you failed. It was a stupid mistake for Tony to pick you to start, even more stupid that he'd kept you on the full game.

You felt the England player's hands patting you softly on the back, but you didn't bother getting up to congratulate them on their success not feeling up to facing other people.

'Hey, it's going to be ok y/n/n.' You hear the soft, comforting whisper of your captain, whose voice makes you sob even harder. You roll over onto your back so you can see her properly, out of everyone on this pitch you knew you owed her a proper apology.

'I'm so sorry Sam.' Your voice is hoarse and it pains you to see her tear-stained cheeks 'I let the whole team down, I know how much this meant to you. I'm sorry for ruining it, you deserved the win.' You burst into tears again as your captain pulled you into a warm embrace, rubbing your back to try and calm you down.

'This is not your fault.' She says, her voice is stern but you know she's not using the tone in a mean way, 'You played your heart out. I'm not allowing you or anyone to take the blame for the result. Every single person who has pulled on the green and gold jersey this tournament needs to be proud of everything they have done. We've made history this World Cup and that can't be forgotten because of one game. We still have the bronze medal match, we need to dust ourselves off and focus on winning that.' Your breathing slows down, knowing you were overreacting and that Sam was right. You needed to concentrate on the third-place game, there was still a chance to bring home some silverware for your country.

As you rose from the ground, extending congratulations to several of the Lionesses for their victory, you found yourself mid-conversation with Kyra and Mini. Suddenly, you felt the gentle embrace of two arms encircling your waist and a head nestling into the curve of your neck.

You turn around, enveloping your girlfriend in an embrace, the silent language of your intertwined bodies speaks more than any words could in the moment. It was a relief to be in the arms that felt more like home than anywhere else, her presence was all you needed to feel slightly better. Tears trickle down your cheeks again, a release from the flood of emotions that have become too overwhelming.

After a while the silence is broken 'I'm so sorry,' Lucy whispers into your ear 'I know how much this meant to you baby, I wish it didn't have to end this way.' You shake your head at her words, not wanting to ruin the special moment that she had also worked so hard for.

'Luc, don't be sorry. I'm not hearing it. Go and make the most of this moment. You deserve it.' You say pulling out of the hug, not wanting your disappointment to ruin her occasion, you knew better than anyone how much effort Lucy put into getting here in her career.

Lucy looks at you with sincerity in her eyes, you can see how excited she is to have made it to a World Cup final, but she still stays with you instead of celebrating with her team. You know you would've done the same thing if the roles were reversed but you still feel bad for keeping her away. 'Babe, go celebrate, I know you want to.' You tell her, your tone almost demanding.

But she doesn't leave your side and for the next 15 minutes she's constantly peppering your face with kisses and expressing words of admiration and respect, acknowledging the relentless dedication you had put into getting here. You keep trying to push her away but she refuses to leave, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and keeping you tucked as close to her as she possibly could not letting you free anytime soon.

Whilst you walk around the pitch together the fact that you two are rivals dissolves, no one would know that one of you had just lost to the other in a World Cup semi-final if it wasn't for the two different jerseys the two of you were wearing.

You gaze at her, and you know that you look like the biggest simp for her as you send her a loving look. The fan's edits after this match would be crazy.

The two of you were a popular couple that the fans adored even though you two had never properly gone public with your relationship, you just weren't the best at keeping it much of a secret.

Neither of you minded though, you found both the tiktoks quite funny.

After a little more walking around with Lucy, you know you can't let her stay with you any longer. 'You've poured your heart into every match, every training session,' you murmur, your voice barely a whisper against the loud atmosphere. 'You deserve this win more than anyone. This victory is yours, you've earned it through all your determination and hard work. Now please go and celebrate, I know that you'll be greatly missed in the changing rooms. I refuse to keep you to myself anymore, we'll have so much time just the two of us back in Barca. I love you, now enjoy your win' You tell her managing to wriggle free from her tight grip and place a light kiss on her lips, which she tries to deepen before you pull away laughing lightly at her clinginess.

'I love you sunshine.' She tells you blowing you a kiss before running over to her teammates who all bring her in for a large group hug. You smile at her almost forgetting how you'd felt only a short time ago.

Seeing Lucy happy made you happy.

'Hello, Miss Bronze.' Caitlin says standing beside you and you can hear the smirk in her voice. 'Care to join your team anytime soon or are you going to keep staring at your girl like a freak for the rest of the night?' She laughs and you shove her slightly.

'I'm coming, you can piss off now.' You tell the brunette, following her towards the team huddle not too far away from where you were. Steph and Kyra wrap their arms around you as you squeeze into the team circle.

The circle is quieter than your previous huddles, the energy gone from the disappointing loss and everyone exhausted from the game you'd just played.

Tony speaks to everyone, telling us it's not over yet and we can't stop working. The talk is coming to an end when he begins to talk about how we should all be very proud of ourselves 'You girls should all be extremely proud of what you have done,' he waves his hand across the sea of fans in green and gold, still screaming and cheering despite the loss. 'Every single one of you has won the hearts of a nation, you have inspired generations to come, and have changed the future of women's football in Australia. That is an incredible achievement.' A small round of applause echoes throughout the group and Tony finishes up the talk letting everyone head off.

All the girls do one more lap of the field, thanking the fans for their support before quickly getting changed and heading back to the hotel, everyone wanting a good nights rest after the long day.

The next day, the bright sun and Kyra's snoring wakes you up. You chuck a pillow at her, laughing at her annoyed grunts and swearing before getting out of bed, showering, and getting changed. You're quick, not wanting to be late for Lucy as the two of you had planned to go out for coffee this morning. You were excited to see how hungover she would be, you'd be surprised if she even managed to get out of bed this morning.

You weren't meant to be meeting Lucy until 10 and it was only 9:15 when you got out of the shower, so you took the extra time to scroll on your phone.

You had hardly thought about the game last night, knowing it would only affect your upcoming game if you worried about that too much. But as you open your phone, which you hadn't been on since before the game, your stomach twists and you feel like you're going to be sick.

A million notifications pop up on your screen. DM's of people telling you to kill yourself and posts that tagged you showing the two goals you couldn't stop yesterday. You tried not to read them but there were too many and you couldn't stop yourself.

Y/N L/N can go fucking throw herself off the Sydney Harbor Bridge for all I care. What a fucking joke this is, I knew women's football would suck. You're telling me that a 'professional' fullback can't stop the easiest goals. hope she fucking dies, let down a whole country.

Morning Y/N, hope you slept terribly last night. Let down a whole country with your shit performance. I'm sure many people would appreciate it if you took a break from football and found a job you're good at. I don't want to see you step foot on a pitch ever again and if you do I'll make sure you're sorry for it.

L/N just proves that female athletes are all just sluts, lost her team a world cup semi-final and all she did after the game was eye fuck Lucy Bronze, what happened to being a team player?

Hi Y/N, thanks to you my daughter cried herself to sleep last night, what happened to inspiring all the young girls, get a fucking life and get back into the kitchen. women like you don't belong on a football pitch. Never touch a football again thanks.

There were so many, all saying the same kind of things that it all just blurred together. Your thoughts from yesterday returned and all you could think about was about how all these people were right. You let down your country and you were a joke.

You were so caught up in everything that you hardly noticed the time slowly tick past 10:15 and all the notifications from Lucy asking where you were. You just sat on your bed, not quite sure what to do. You'd never felt more like a failure in your life, tears poured down your face they were practically choking you but you didn't mind.

You had let down your country and thousands of people agreed with you.

When you didn't answer Lucy's fifth call she got seriously worried. You always had your phone on you and you never ignored Lucy's calls. She called you one more time and when you didn't answer, she took matters into her own hands.

As soon as the Uber arrived outside your hotel, Lucy sprinted up to your room. Until security stopped her at the front desk, demanding that she prove that she was staying at the hotel before they let her in.

She was begging them for a good five minutes until it got to the point when she was offering money for them to let her in. Fortunately, Alanna spotted Lucy at the desk and after seeing her desperate expression she decided to go over and see what was happening.

'Is everything all right?' She asked both the receptionist and Lucy.

'She's not letting me see y/n/n' Lucy snapped shooting the desk lady a dirty glare.

'I need proof, I can't just let anyone in.' She says matter-of-factly causing Lucy to roll her eyes. Alanna ignores the lady giving Lucy all her attention.

'I thought she was going out to see you?' Alanna asked confused 'That's what Kyra told everyone.'

'She was meant to, but she didn't show up and hasn't been answering my calls, I need to know if she's ok.' Lucy's forehead creased with worry, her girlfriend was never late and always picked up the phone.

'I'm sure she'll be fine, I'll take you to go and check her room and see if she's there.' Alanna tells the brunette before turning around having a quick word with the receptionist who mumbles something under her breath before turning to Lucy and allowing her to go up, apologising for the trouble.

Her words aren't heard by the English footballer who is already speed-walking up the hallway despite having no clue where she is going. Alanna jogs lightly to catch up to her grabbing her wrist to stop her from walking. At first, Lucy tries to pull her wrist away but stops when Alanna drops it.

'Her rooms the other way.' Alanna says softly, causing Lucy to turn around and start power walking in the opposite direction. Alanna laughs lightly at her. 'Slow down, you're just going to get lost. I'll take you to her.'

You're curled up under the blankets in your bed. You'd been lying there for almost an hour. Your phone was on silent so you hadn't seen all the missed calls from Lucy, you felt guilty for not showing up but surely she wouldn't care too much. No one in their right mind would want to be seen with a mess like you, especially not the Lucy Bronze.

You lay in silence for a while longer, nobody disrupting you as the do not disturb sign was up and all the girls were out for the off day. You were almost too caught up in your thoughts to hear the knocking on the door and Alanna's voice calling out your name.

'Y/N, are you in there?' She asked again 'Y/N?' You groaned pulling the blankets up so they were almost covering your head.

'Go away Lani.' You mumble only just loud enough for her to hear. You are shocked when she agrees and you hear her footsteps getting further away.

You roll further into your bed, groaning when you hear another knock on the door. 'Baby, are you alright?' Your girlfriend asks, your stomach flips with guilt.

'I don't want to talk right now Luce.' You tell her even though you know that's not going to stop her from coming to see you.

'I need to know that my girlfriends ok.' She tells you and you hear the doorknob twist, the bright light that fills your room makes your head pound and you bury your face into the pillow.

When Lucy sees you lying in the darkness she immediately rushes to your side and places a hand on your forehead, probably checking to see if you had a temperature.

'What's wrong my love?' She asks sitting next to you on the bed and stroking your back. 'Are you sick? Do you need me to get anything for you?' The brunette asks the worry evident in her tone. You turn around to face her, only seeing her concerned face makes you burst out crying.

As tears streamed down your cheeks, you poured your heart out to your girlfriend, the weight of disappointment and guilt heavy on your shoulders, you couldn't not tell her about what was going on.

The two of you told each other everything.

In the quiet of the hotel room, you confessed her insecurities, voice choking with emotion. 'I'm a failure,' you whispered, hands trembling as you recounted the mistakes that haunted you from the semi-finals and all the awful messages you'd received after the game. With each word, Lucy listened intently, offering comforting words of reassurance. 'You're not a failure,' she whispered back, gently wiping away your tears. 'You're brave for putting yourself out there, for giving it your all. Football doesn't define you; your resilience does. You are the best player I know, you didn't win Player of the Year for nothing. All the girls were talking about how well you played last night, just because the result didn't go your way it doesn't mean you're a failure.' She places light kisses over your face 'The people hating are all just dickheads, I can't imagine them doing even half of what you've achieved. Don't let them get to you.' She tells you, midway through your conversation she had laid down beside you, wrapping you in her arms. You had your head lying on her chest, the beat of her heart helping calm you down.

You don't know how you got a girlfriend like Lucy. But you were undeniably grateful for her no matter what. She'd been there for you through the worst and best parts of your life.

'I'm sorry Lucy.' You whisper to her.

'Don't be sorry.' She tells you placing a light kiss on your forehead 'You've done nothing wrong.'

'You're meant to be enjoying making it to the final, but instead you're stuck looking after me.'

'Yeah, but being stuck with my favorite person in the world is my kind of heaven.' She tells you softly causing a small smile to break out on your face 'I love you y/n/n.'

'Love you more.' You say back to her.

'That's impossible baby.' A small smirk appears on her face 'I'll always love you the most.'

[httpvomitello]

could I request a George Weasley x reader where she is Harry's sister and is dating George and during the second task of the tornament he's very worried because she has disappeared and after Harry rescues her from the lake they have a date or something and is very fluffy?

Hello, hello! Hope you like it ~ ♡

Underwater and Above *⁠.⁠✧

george weasley x f!reader

Summary: You’re Harry Potter’s sister, and while everyone else is focused on the Triwizard Tournament, your boyfriend George Weasley can’t help but worry about you when you disappear during the second task. After Harry rescues you, George takes you on a special date, and the two of you finally get to unwind together.

The second task was an absolute spectacle. You stood on the edge of the Black Lake, feeling the crisp air brush against your skin, your nerves buzzing in excitement and a hint of fear. You weren’t competing, but as Harry’s sister, you were part of this strange, dangerous event. The task was straightforward: the champions had to retrieve something precious from the bottom of the lake. The catch? You, along with the other champions’ loved ones, would be submerged in the lake, frozen in place until the champions came to save you.

You’d been warned about the effects of the gillyweed, how it would allow you to breathe underwater, but there were still uncertainties. You never imagined, however, how terrifying it would feel when the spell took hold, your body stiffening, your mind swimming in a trance-like haze.

The moment you hit the water, your limbs went numb, your mind went blank, and before you knew it, you felt yourself sinking. But you couldn’t move, couldn't scream. The world above you seemed so distant, blurry, like a dream. You were trapped, frozen in place by whatever strange magic held you there, and even though you could feel the cold of the water seeping into your bones, your body refused to respond.

"She’ll be fine, George," Fred said, slapping him on the back, but George didn’t hear him. His gaze was too intense, his worry too overwhelming.

"She will appear soon." Fred added, glancing at the others. "The champions are probably just—"

But George’s frustration boiled over. "She should already be here," he muttered, his voice tight with panic. "I haven't seen her since yesterday afternoon."

Fred furrowed his brow. "It’s only been a day. Relax."

George shook his head, unwilling to let go of his worry. "No, Fred. Something’s wrong."

But just as he said that, he saw it—Harry—emerging from the water, his face grim, and with you in his arms.

George’s heart nearly stopped as Harry dragged you toward the shore. You were pale, your hair floating around your face like seaweed, and your eyes were closed. It didn’t look like you were breathing, and every single nerve in George’s body went ice-cold.

"Is she alright?" he asked, his voice hoarse, his words barely audible over the ringing in his ears.

Harry nodded, but the look in his eyes was troubled. "She was stuck down there—couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. I—I think she’s just in shock."

George rushed to your side, his hands trembling as he carefully reached down to touch your cold face. His heart hammered in his chest as his thumb brushed over your cheek, and when you finally stirred, he nearly collapsed with relief.

"Y/N?" he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Can you hear me?"

You blinked, your vision blurry as you tried to take in your surroundings. When your eyes locked on your boyfriend, you smiled faintly, though it was weak. "George…?" you croaked, your voice hoarse from the water. "What happened?"

"You’re okay now," George said, his voice thick with relief, his hands gently cupping your face. "I thought I was going to lose you…"

"I—I’m fine," you whispered, trying to sit up but still feeling disoriented. "Really, I’m fine."

George’s breath caught in his chest as he looked down at you, his eyes full of gratitude. "You scared the hell out of me," he admitted, voice unsteady.

You smiled weakly. "I didn’t mean to," you murmured.

Harry, still beside you, looked relieved but exhausted. "You’re going to be fine, Y/N," he said, helping you sit up more comfortably. "Just—let’s get you warm."

But George didn’t leave your side. He sat beside you, never letting go of your hand.

After you were wrapped in a warm blanket and taken to a secluded corner of the castle grounds to recover, George was still hovering, unwilling to let you out of his sight for even a second. He kept glancing at you, as if making sure you were still there, still alive, still with him.

He sat next to you, the two of you leaning against the stone wall as the sky began to darken, and a calm quiet settled between you.

"I—I’m sorry," you said softly, breaking the silence. "I didn’t mean to scare you, George. I—I just… I couldn’t move. It was Professor Dumbledore who called me yesterday, asking me to go into the lake and be the person Harry would rescue. Unfortunately, I couldn't tell anything..."

George let out a breath, his hand squeezing yours. "You don’t need to apologize," he said gently. "I’m just glad you’re okay."

There was a long pause, and then he added, "I’ve never been so terrified in my life."

You smiled faintly, reaching up to rest your head on his shoulder. "I guess that makes two of us," you said quietly.

He laughed softly, a sound full of relief. "Don’t ever scare me like that again, yeah?"

You nodded, closing your eyes. "I’ll try my best, I promise."

For a long moment, the two of you sat in silence, the soft evening breeze rustling the leaves around you. George’s arm was draped around your shoulders, and despite everything that had happened, there was a sense of peace in the air now.

Later that evening, once you were fully recovered, George insisted on taking you to the Three Broomsticks, away from the chaos of the Triwizard Tournament. He was still a little shaken, but he was determined to give you a sense of normalcy, to take a breath and finally be together.

The two of you found a quiet corner, and George, despite his nervousness, gave you that mischievous grin you adored.

"So…" he started, raising his Butterbeer to you, "I think you deserve something for surviving that underwater mess."

You grinned. "I don’t think it’s me who needs rewarding, George."

He winked at you. "Oh, trust me, love, you’ve earned it."

You both chuckled, enjoying the warmth of the fire and the quiet comfort of being with each other after such an intense day.

"You’re the best," you said softly, leaning closer to him. "I can’t imagine going through that without you by my side."

He smiled, his fingers brushing against yours. "Well, you’ll never have to. I’m not going anywhere."

As you shared a quiet laugh and a few more Butterbeers, the night stretched on. The fear of the lake, of the task, melted away, and in its place was a sense of peace that only came when you were with him.

[ellamuffin97]

You are mine 💚

Pairing : Loki x Fem!Reader

Rating:E

Warnings : spice , sexy flashbacks, jealousy, possessive behaviour, alcohol, cursing

💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚

You sat at the bar and swirled around the watery remains of your drink. You stared at the melting ice at the bottom of your glass, totally wrapped up in your thoughts.

His voice got so damn rough and low when he was inside you. It was coarse, like shrapnel—it bit into your skin and stayed there, embedded and scarred over, whether you liked it or not.

“Fuck, just like that, kærasta . You feel so good.”

Loki’s hands gripped your ass, guiding your movements as you rode him, your palms resting heavy on his pecs.

“Mmmm, are you going to cum for me? That’s it, make yourself cum on my cock.”

You collapsed forward, forearms landing on either side of his head, hands tangled in his hair, lips pressed to his corded neck. He bent his knees to brace for leverage and started fucking up into you, holding you tight against him as you fell apart.

“Shit, yes, cum for me—I can feel it.”

The loud scrape of a barstool ripped you back to the present moment, and you looked around quickly, hoping your face hadn’t betrayed your filthy thoughts. You’d come here to not think about him.

Needless to say, it wasn’t working.

You were starting to forget why you’d told Loki so many months ago that your relationship was purely casual and would never be anything more. Only fucking him after you had missions together meant seeing him sporadically at best—a few days at a time, maybe a blissful week if you were lucky and the mission needed more time or if the target that you’d follow was far away. Then you’d go your separate ways, not seeing him for weeks or sometimes months, until Stark needs him and Thor again so they have to come back from Asgard .

The last mission you’d had together was three weeks ago. You didn’t like to admit it (even to yourself), but you’d asked him for help when you really didn’t need it. You could have easily catch the target alone… but the job required so much damn time in another country that you couldn’t fathom wasting all that valuable time without him. You weren’t going to not take advantage of six long days London with nothing to do but fuck. You had no regrets about the white lie.

And to your relief, neither Loki didn’t say anything when the target was suspiciously simple to catch.

But if you were at the point of lying about anything just to see him, why did you have this stupid rule in the first place? He had made it clear on several occasions that he wanted your partnership to be more than just about work.

“Stay with me. I want you here.”

No, no. You knew why you drew that line in the sand. You kept him at arm’s length because it was safe. This arrangement was simple. Straightforward. Smart. No strings or complications. After all, his invitation to stay with him wasn’t a promise—it didn’t ensure loyalty or preclude loss. Nothing did. Sooner or later, he’d get tired of you, or you’d get tired of him. Someone would end up too attached and heartbroken.

You couldn’t lose someone who wasn’t yours.

Living by that truth made things easy. Right? Yes. Yes, it did.

…Then why didn’t it feel easy anymore? Why did it hurt so fucking much every time he left Midgard straight after every single mission ?

That wasn’t a question you were ready to unpack at the moment. You signalled to the bartender for another drink, just as a man slid onto the stool next to you. You turned to look at him, and the corners of your mouth turned up in a smile.

Alright, he’d be a sexy enough distraction. If you couldn’t excise the shards of Loki that had worked their way under your skin, the least you could do was find a fun way to ignore them.

Authors pov :

She was here. Of course, she was here.

Seeing her was the last thing he needed. He was here to distract himself, to buy a bottle of something strong and escape to the solitude he finds his peace in . And once he was there, he would not think about her and her soft lips. No, he wasn’t going to think about how beautiful she looked splayed out in his bed , sweaty and wild and his.

*****

“Are you going to join me in here or are you just going to stand there and look at me?” she teased.

She sat up with a wicked smile on her lips and crawled to the end of the bed . She knelt at the edge, reaching out to grasp his shirt and tug him forward. He happily complied, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“Speaking of nice views,” she purred. “I love when you wear those leather trousers .”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah… now let’s get them off.”

She bowed her head and pressed her lips to the side of his neck, and he tipped his head to the side to give her better access, a quiet moan escaping through his lips. Before he even knew what was happening, she had curled her fingers around the black elastic of his boxers, extended them toward her, and let them snap back . He grunted in surprise, but his playful words of protest died on his tongue when she set her teeth against his skin. She slid her hand in his trousers , rubbing and playing with his dick while her free palm wandered up over the taut muscles of his biceps.

*****

“Excuse me.” The bite of an irritated voice cut through his moment of reminiscence, loud enough to jolt him out of one of his favorite memories.

Loki looked around as a woman pushed past him. He stepped out of the way and muttered an apology. He hadn’t realized he was frozen in the doorway, completely blocking the exit.

He looked back over at the bar. His heart dropped.

No, she wasn’t his. She was definitely not his.

The proof was right in front of his fucking face. There she was, chatting up some handsome man who’d just sat down beside her, her hand playfully swatting his forearm—not that he even needed proof to know she wasn’t his. From the very beginning, she was crystal clear that all he’d ever be to her was an occasional mission partner and casual fuck. And he accepted her boundaries because as much as it hurt to watch her locking inside her room after every job, he’d rather give up his room in the tower and go back with his brother in Asgard .

He would rather have a piece of her than nothing at all .

Loki knew he should go. The smart thing to do would be to turn around right now and head back to Asgard. Staying and watching this unfold would just add more weight to the heavy feeling in his chest—the feeling that settled there months ago, after the first time you’d had sex and she left the next morning, the feeling that only relented when she was by his side once again.

But… if he stayed, he would get to see her for a little while. And… who knows? Maybe she’d see him too, come over, and stop talking to that asshole?

Could that man be considered an asshole for doing nothing wrong? The worst crime he had committed was choosing the most beautiful woman to talk to.

Yes, Loki decided. He was an asshole.

He moved further into the pub , making a beeline for the bar. He stopped at the far end, hand balled into a fist on the wooden counter. He didn’t even notice when the bartender came up and asked him if he wanted anything.

He was too preoccupied watching her. She was largely faced away from him, her body angled toward the idiot she was shamelessly flirting with. For a moment, though, she turned slightly, and the look on her face broke something inside him .It was a look—open and wanting, soft around the edges—that he thought she reserved only for him.

He also watched her smile at him, and an ugly feeling rippled through him—anger, craving, possession. It unfurled through his body like tendrils of smoke, filling up every inch of him until he felt like he was going to choke.

She turned just far enough to meet his gaze, and his feet were moving before he knew what he was going to do.

Enough.

***

Apparently, this stranger was not a good enough distraction. You were talking with him, doing some of your best flirting—despite how eye-wateringly strong his cologne was—and all you could think about was Loki. The man prattled on, not noticing that you weren’t listening to him at all as you slipped right back to a fonder memory.

You were tucked against Loki’s chest in the dark haven of his room, and he was nuzzling his jaw against the side of your neck. He breathed you in.

“You smell good.” He hummed thoughtfully. “Like flowers… and vanilla and a little bit like smoke.”

You smiled against him and leaned up to press your nose to his neck, inhaling.

“You smell good too. Like whisky and something warm… I can’t put my finger on it.”

“Sweat,” he offered.

“No,” you laughed, “Like cinnamon or pine trees… and maybe a light hint of sweat.”

Loki growled and flipped you on your back, bracing himself over you. “Told you,” he teased, dipping down to kiss a line along your collarbone.

“I still like it,” you whispered.

When you realized you were smiling in a slightly dazed, lovesick way, you glanced away from the man in front of you, turning your head to hide your expression. You didn’t want him to think you were looking at him that way.

And when you turned, you caught a familiar gleam of blue eyes in your periphery. As if you’d summoned him straight out of your daydream, Loki was standing at the far end of the bar, his eyes fixed on your face. You smiled at him, and the corners of your mouth turned up even more when he started to make his way around the bar, heading in your direction.

Yes.

You watched him as he walked over, wondering if he’d be open to heading straight to the tower .

And when he reached you… he didn’t so much as pause—you couldn’t detect even the smallest hitch in his step. He walked right on by, tossing a curt nod of acknowledgement in your direction. You didn’t even have the chance to reciprocate his nod before he’d passed.

You were too shocked to even be offended; you were just… crushed.

No, not crushed. Just surprised.

Your gaze followed his back as he wove through the tables. You expected him to find an empty one, to seek the solitude that he so often preferred over the company of most, but instead, he stopped in front of a round booth in the back corner where a beautiful woman was sitting alone. You watched in shock as he said something inaudible to her, and she beamed up at him, sliding over on the bench so he could sit beside her.

What the fuck.

“You okay?”

You snapped your attention back to the man in front of you. He’d finally noticed that you weren’t paying him the slightest bit of attention anymore.

“Uh, yeah sorry… I, uh, have to go.”

“Oh, okay.” The disappointment in his voice was palpable.

He’d recover.

“Have a good night,” you said, absentmindedly patting his arm as you got to your feet.

For a few stunned moments, you stood there by the bar and watched Loki blatantly flirt with this random woman. You couldn’t hear what he was saying from there, but it was clearly… effective. Before they’d exchanged more than a few sentences, she had a hand on his fucking knee.

Your brain stalled.

Normally , Loki terrified everyone he came into contact with. And you didn’t blame them—he wanted to take over the whole planet and caused disaster . You’d seen bigger men than himself flinch when he scratched his arm… and yet, this woman was completely comfortable with him right off the bat, positively swooning.

What the fuck was he saying to her?

He braced an arm on the back of the booth, around her shoulders, and she fluttered her lashes up at him. You could tell from the way his head was tilted towards her that she had his complete, undivided attention. You knew that look well.

Jealousy blazed hot and urgent inside you.

He was putting on a show for you, baiting you. He had to be. He was usually awkward and monosyllabic around strangers. You prided yourself on how talkative and warm he had become around you—only with you. Or at least, you thought he was only like that with you.

The woman slid her hand up a few inches on his thigh . That got your feet moving.

You stalked over to where he was sitting, faced away from you, his body fully angled toward the woman. To your absolute horror, as you moved closer, you started to catch their conversation.

“—you look so strong” the woman giggled, reaching out to grip his bicep.

Loki just hummed his agreement and fucking flexed his arm under her fingers.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

She oooo-ed at the show of muscle, and your fists clenched almost as tightly as your jaw.

He leaned toward her even more, his huge frame dwarfing her. “Can I get you a drink, sweetheart?”

SWEETHEART.

Your vision flashed crimson, the edges burned black.

Before she could answer, you slapped a palm down on their table to make your presence known. The woman looked up at you with wide, confused eyes, immediately retracting her hand from Loki’s thigh. Good.

He turned his head slowly, his eyes trained on you over his shoulder.

“Yes?” he asked, his voice calm and even.

“Can I talk to you for a moment?” you gritted out.

He didn’t move. “What do you need?”

You let out an exasperated sigh. “To talk to you.”

“Well, we were about to—” the woman started to protest then caught the threatening look on your face and recoiled, scooting backward on the bench.

Something primal in your chest purred in satisfaction every time she drew away from Loki in response to your presence. You wanted to chase that feeling.

Before you could stop yourself, you moved in even more. You stood right behind where he sat on the edge of the bench, and leaned over him, one of your hands finding a home on his knee, the other draped possessively around his shoulders.

His eyes were still turned toward you, but he didn’t move. You fixed the woman with a searing gaze.

She scrunched her eyebrows, her eyes flicking between where your hands were resting on Loki’s body and up to his unmoving face, which was glued to your own face. She no longer had his attention. It was all on you.

As it should be.

“Would you give us a minute?” you asked, your lips pursed tightly in a fake smile.

The woman let out an awkward, disbelieving laugh—which was fair, you were kicking her out of her own table after all—and shuffled around the booth, getting to her feet. “Yeah, okay, I guess I’ll let you two talk.”

“Thanks so much.”

When she was gone, Loki slid along the bench, making room for you to sit. When he turned toward you, your face was set in anger again, hand still clutching his knee.

He reclined against the seat, calm as can be. “What was it you wanted to talk about?”

You scoffed at him. “Uh, what the fuck was that?”

He cocked his head the tiniest bit. “What was what?”

“That little performance? That flirting? What the fuck was that?”

“It was flirting,” he deadpanned. “Well spotted.”

Your jaw fell open, and you sputtered for a moment. “You-you were just doing it to get under my skin—it was so obvious. You’re not acting like yourself at all.”

He chuckled. “If I was doing it to get under your skin, I’d say it’s working.”

You let go of his knee to cross your arms over your chest defensively. “I mean—yeah, it was pretty painful to watch you throw yourself at her like that… though that tactic seemed to work on her,” you conceded, looking away from him for a moment.

Suddenly Loki thawed, dropping his nonchalant facade and leaning toward you to rest a hand on your thigh.

“You can just say you were jealous.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, ignoring the way his touch lit up all the nerves in your body.

He shrugged and continued:”You know I’d rather flirt with you, but we’re not on a mission together right now, so…”

“Yeah, well, you know what? I’m starting to rethink my policy,” you huffed.

He squeezed your thigh. “Good.”

You rolled your eyes at his smug reply. “You could have just told me that you wanted more, you know.”

“I have told you that. Many times.”

Suddenly, you felt silly. The anger that had flared so hot and bright faded, leaving you feeling exposed. You dropped your arms and sighed. He was right. This whole situation had been orchestrated by… you.

“Yeah, okay, you have.”

He crowded your space suddenly, draping his arm around your shoulder and dipping his lips down to your ear.

“And I’ll tell you again if it helps,” he growled, his voice dipping an octave

“I want you to be mine and only mine … all the time , forever kærasta”

His words sent a shiver down your spine.

He drew back, settling into a relaxed position.

“now , what is it exactly what you wanted from me? Voice it out babe”

You knew exactly what you wanted. You’d known from the beginning. That possessive feeling in your chest stirred again.

You rested your hand on his knee again and looked up in his eyes. “I want that too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You smiled up at him.

Loki stiffened, his back straightening, as your hand wandered up his thigh, settling brazenly between his legs. He was still as a statue, his breath suddenly shallow as he hardened under your touch.

“Mine,” you breathed, squeezing him lightly.

“You and that delicious dick of yours “

[animehideout]

LOVE IS THE MOST TWISTED CURSE OF THEM ALL

PART 11

Check out part 12 here

Gojo Satoru X Fem! Reader

warnings ⚠️: not proofread / abuse / SA just something vague not detailed.

a/n : I truly apologize for this late update, I was really unmotivated to rewrite it and I was struggling to find inspiration again, I'm sorry if this part didn't live up to your expectations but I read hope you like it though, I tried to make it longer but I ran out of ideas 🥹.

Music Suggestion 🎧

Satoru stood tall, alone in the balcony, his gaze fixated on the sky, lost in the depth if his own thoughts. The weight of regret hung heavy upon his shoulders, a burden he could no longer bear.

His mind played your last fight that night on loop, making him hate himself even more. He remembered his harsh words, actions and disrespect towards you. Forcefully shutting his eyes to make those images and voices that's been haunting him go away.

Unwelcomed thoughts yet impossible to ignore. Blaming himself over and over again for what happened to you, torturing himself to madness.

"It's my fucking fault" he muttered,

In all that darkness, the image of your face in his mind was the only source of light. The delicate curve of your smile whenever you were around your students etched in his memory. He remembered the way you slept, features softened by the gentle embrace of your slumber, your passion for teaching and your daily excitement to show your students a new weapon and new technique.

You were a vision of peace amidst the chaos he was living. He realized then how life became emptier after your disappearance, the void your absence had left in every bit of his life. He realized how much he fell for you, he realized that hatred was deeply buried by the birth of his love for you.

With a heavy heart, he bowed his head, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. For three days, his eyes wide open, unable to sleep without you under the same roof as him, cuddling a piece of your clothing every single night to take into your scent, to pretend that you were there, next to him.

Clutching his fists, his knuckles turned white , whispering a plea for forgiveness, a forgiveness he might never receive.

"I'm sorry Y/n.."

. ..

"Satoru?"

"Y-yaga sensei?" said Gojo wiping his tears away,

"Can I join you?"

"Y-yeah sure"

"What's on your mind? Still blaming yourself?"

"Do I have anything else to do except blaming myself?"

"I'm sorry for your loss Satoru" said Principal Yaga apologetically,

"I didn't lose her, she's still out there, somewhere! I know it, I'm sure of it, I can feel it"

"Pain is eating you up Satoru, you know you should let go already–"

"Let go? Easier said than done. How can all of you let go so fast as if she never existed?" he said in annoyance

"The higher ups orders, to not distract the sorcerers' focus from their daily tasks"

"Bullshit, –"

"Satoru I understand your pain"

"No you don't, none of you does! I did this to her, I built the wall between both of us brick by brick till it collapsed on both of us, she got abducted by Toji and here I am suffering everyday.. I just wish I can turn back time and undo the damage I had done"

"Is this because of regret or something else?" asked Principal Yaga

Gojo looked down, not sure of what to say, mastering the courage he finally spoke,

"I– I love her, sensei! I love Y/n so much, I just hope it's not too late to realize this because I really want to fix everything–"

Yaga sensei looked at Gojo with a reassuring yet sad smile, deep down, everyone accepted that you died except Gojo., and he didn't want him to hang on fake hope.

"Satoru–"

"I know what you're about to say, but I won't let go, I won't give up even if the higher ups chain me down.... I thought she was a curse when we got married but I think I am her curse, I was her curse while she was my blessing–"

"I hope you're right Satoru, I hope she's still out there as you said, I hope you get a second chance to be a real family"

...

*In Mei Mei's room*

"Look at this" said Maki her eyebrows frowning in confusion,

"Who's that in the picture?" asked Nobara as confused as Maki,

Both of them examined the photograph, their eyes flickered between the picture and each other in silence. In the picture a woman smiled serenely as she cradled a baby in her embrace.

Maki shrugged equally perplexed,

"I have no idea, do you think it's a family member?"

Their senses were on high alert as they scanned every corner of her room for any sign of wrongdoing, something out of the ordinary. They found that picture tucked under her bed after they flipped the mattress while searching for anything suspicious.

"And this stack of money? Didn't know she's got all of this cash here" added Nobara.

"And this box as well"

Intrigued, they opened it. As they lifted the lid of the box, a firegun revealed itself, its metallic surface gleaming ominously in the dim light.

"A g-gun?" started Nobara as she looked at Maki in shock, "what would she use it for?"

"Definitely not hers, why would a sorcerer with a jujutsu technique depend on a gun" she pointed out.

"Good point, so if its not hers then to whom does it belong to?" asked Nobara

"There's only one way to figure it out, but now let's take the gun, the damn photograph and get out of here" said Maki as she put he mattress in its place again.

.....

"GOJO-SENSEI" called Nobara out as she caught a glimpse of Gojo in the balcony "Sensei you need to see this"

"Hm? Nobara? Maki?"

"Gojo" said Maki as she saw Gojo with principal Yaga in the balcony "We found something–"

but before she could finish her sentence,

"Any news?" interrupted Mei Mei as she stepped in the balcony out of nowhere..

Maki and Nobara exchanged quick nervous glances, their eyes darting between each other as they attempt to maintain composure. Hiding what they took from her room behind their backs. Their expressions strain with the effort to appear nonchalant, but a subtle tension lingers in the air. Lips pressed into strained smiles,

"Nah nothing new" said Maki while Nobara nodded in agreement.

"Hm you sure about that? I thought I heard you said you found something, is it about Y/n? " asked Mei raising her eyebrows,

"What if we did? Is it really your concern?" exclaimed Maki offensively, only to get elbowed softly by Nobara,

"We found nothing important Mei Mei sensei, of course if we did we'd tell you" exclaimed Nobara, chuckling awkwardly.

"Oh alright then girls," she said luckily not giving too much important to the girls, then paused and drifted her gaze towards Gojo, "how are you holding up Gojo? I hope you're in the process of moving on" she added

Gojo's eyes burned holes in her soul, but he tried to remain calm,

"I'm fine"

"That's what all of us would like to hear, glad you let go" she said and then excused herself to go to her room,

Then moment she left, Maki ran towards Gojo and Yaga, showing them what they found,

"We found these–"

"WHERE THE HELL DID YOU GET THESE FROM?" snapped Gojo unexpectedly, his eyes widened as he snatched the gun and photograph form Maki's hands,

"Damn Satoru what's got into you, relax!" exclaimed Yaga-sensei,

"W-we.." stuttered Nobara

"How did you get these? they were well hidden"

"Well hidden under Mei Mei's bed?" asked Maki in confusion

"What? what did you just say?" said Gojo and Yaga in union

"We found these under Mei Mei's bed, the gun hidden in a box , tucked beside that photograph and a pile of cash, do you possibly know to whom it belongs?"

"These belong to Toji Zenin" said Satoru

Maki and Nobara froze in place, trying to process what Gojo just said,

"T-toji?" they said in disbelief,

"This gun was used by Toji to murder Riko Amanai, and these in the picture are Megumi and his mother–" explained Yaga sensei

"It can only be one thing" expressed Gojo through gritted teeth, "She must be behind it" he added and started walking away, thinking about confronting her,

"GOJO STOP!" yelled Yaga sensei, holding Gojo in place, "What's happened to your common sense? vanished?"

"We can't assume anything now sensei!" said Nobara

"So all of this isn't enough to assume that she's got some dirty work with Toji Zenin going on behind our backs?" said Gojo aggressively

"Okay you're right, it is suspicious but we need a plan! a proper plan, do you think she'll admit it if you confront her? she'll find a lie and you'll never find the truth, not out of her! We need to know more about her first" explained Maki

"Know what?" asked Gojo impatiently

"I mean, Toji has nothing right? not even a house, do you think if he'd take Y/n to a hotel room after abducting her? Mei Mei must have provided a place for him" she added

"So if we can't ask her, how would we know?" asked Nobara,

"We ask her best friend" Suggest Maki shrugging,

....

"Is it ringing?" asked Yaga sensei,

"Yeah shh it is" said Gojo waiting for her to pick up the phone, "–Oh hello" he said through the phone

"Gojo? Hi what's up calling me late at night, is everything okay?"

"Utahime, yeah everything is fine, we just need you here, if it's possible can you make here in one hour at least?"

"Well I can, but is it an emergency?"

"Um it's– it's about Mei Mei, we're preparing a party for her and we need your help"

"A party? It's not even her birthday yet–"

"It's for her service, it's a habit here in Jujutsu High to hold a party for a teacher to honor them, and this time it's Mei Mei, she did a lot for us and for the school, besides it's the higher ups orders so..."

"Oh the higher ups? sure then I'll be there in an hour"

"Don't tell Mei Mei that you're coming though, it must remain a surprise, now we don't wanna spoil it"

"So should be meet outside the school?"

"Sure yeah, you can come to my house?!"

"Oh alright then, I'll be there"

With that they hung up the phone,

"She'll be here in one hour, I hope we can get her to talk"

"I hope she's not part of Mei Mei's plan though" Said Nobara.

"Don't you think we must tell the others? Maybe we need some backup?" suggested Maki

"Yeah, but some of them need to stay here to keep an eye on Mei Mei" said principal Yaga

"Alright, I'll go and tell them then,"

*Time skip, at Gojo's house*

They sat there, Gojo, Nanami, Maki and Megumi waiting for Utahime's arrival.

"You've got a nice and big house" pointed Maki

"Yeah but never a happy house" mumbled Gojo to himself,

"Do you think she'll tell us more about her?" asked Megumi and suddenly the bell rang,

"I guess we'll find out now!" said Nanami,

...

"So Utahime, I hope you corporate!" started Gojo not wasting any precious second,

"Corporate? you make it sound like if we're discussing business, and not preparing for a surprise party! it's a p-party right?"

she chuckled nervously,

"Not really! you need to tell us more about Mei Mei, some information that we don't know about"

"wait? what?" she asked nervously

"Is she meeting someone? did she tell you about something?"

"Gojo wait! why are you asking about this? I mean she lives there in the school dorms as well, so I guess you know more than I do"

"I don't think so, she's you're best friend she must have told you something about her plan?" said Maki

"Plan? what plan?"

"Ah come on Utahime dont play dumb"

"No for real! what plan, I thought you had a plan with her , Gojo to push Y/n away!"

"What? NO. I'm talking about her dirty plan with Toji"

"Toji? wait what's going on?" she said truly confused

"STOP LYING AND ANSWER THE DAMN QUESTION, IF YOU'RE PART OF HER DIRTY GAME I'LL END BOTH OF YOU" exclaimed Gojo angrily, making Utahime step back, growing more and more impatient.

"Hey hey Gojo calm down, what's wrong with you? I understand you're frustrated but that's not the right way to find answers!" said Maki and the others nodded in agreement,

"Megumi please take him to the balcony while me and Maki handle this, he needs to calm down" suggest Nanami,

Megumi did as he said and took Gojo to get some fresh night air,

"Geez, you really developed anger issues, you were more laid back even in risky situations Gojo" started Megumi

"Not anymore, people change and I've changed"

"Y/n sensei is dear to all of us, so I am eager too to know where she is, and I truly understand how you feel"

"No Gumi, you don't, you don't understand because I'm not just sad, I'm feeling extremely guilty, because it's my damn fault"

"I'm feeling guilty too" said Megumi lowering his head,

"Hm? what for ? you're pretty close to Y/n and you're good friends not only a student and his teacher–"

"It's my father, he's the one who abducted her and only God knows what he's doing to her, I don't wanna even think about it. Is there any greater shame than this?" he said his voice cracking,

"Hey Megumi! look at me, your father's actions has nothing to do with you, he's the one who abducted her not you! you've always been nice and kind to Y/n. Sometimes family does things that we are ashamed of and completely in opposition of it but it doesn't mean we're like them just because we're related by blood, you are what you're truly in here" he said and pointed at Megumi's heart "And I know well what's in there Megumi! I raised you and I've seen you grow up to be a loyal, strong and kind hearted man! you're the complete opposite of your father so don't ever compare yourself to him again" said Gojo with a smile,

"If it's his fault, then why are you blaming yourself Gojo?"

"Because I'm the reason she left that night! I've said too many hurtful words, no one can handle to hear, no one deserves to hear but I was too agitated, too overwhelmed by my mixed feelings, trying to push her away from me over and over again–"

"Why? why'd you push her away from you? couldn't you have tried at least? maybe after what you've been through you were destined to finally find happiness with her! "

"My heart was a messy place to make it a comfortable place for her!"

"Was? so what changed now?"

"I want to try to make it comfortable for both of us, I want t-t to– nevermind! I have to find her, I have to make it up for her"

"I understand and we will find her, Y/n is strong I'm sure she's safe wherever she is" reassured Megumi, trying to lift Gojo's spirit again,

....

"So Utahime, we really need you to corporate so you better put that bestie thing with Mei Mei aside cuz this is a life or death matter!" begun Maki,

"D-death?"

"Toji escaped and we think that Mei Mei had a hand in this" added Nanami

"No way! Why would Mei Mei do that? I mean you know what Toji had done to the Jujutsu world!"

"We know, but we know that when people are full of hate are full of unexpected things!"

"Nanami what's wrong? what happened?"

"It's Y/n! Toji abducted her, and we found Toji's gun under Mei Mei's bed, even though it was well hidden.. do you still think she's got nothing to do with that?"

Her eyes wide open in shock and disbelief, her mouth hanging open, sad expressions drawn on her face,

"W-what? I didn't know I swear to God! I've – I've never thought it will go that way, I've never thought she could fall this far" she expressed her feelings, her heart crushing, she's never expected her long time best friend would do or be part of such thing, to betray the Jujutsu community.

"That's why we need your help! You know how important Y/n is to our world! we can't lose her" said Nanami "So please if you know anything, any place she owns, any small details tell us, we really need to know"

With a deep breath, she started thinking, trying to remember if Mei Mei told her anything,

"I remember she bought a house! but that was weeks ago!!"

"A house?"

"Yeah, she said she might settle in Tokyo if things went well between her and Gojo–"

"She's truly delusion" interrupted Maki rolling her eyes,

"Where is this house?" asked Nanami

"I'll take you there" said Utahime determined to help.

Despite being best friends with Mei Mei, her morals were more important! she's too loyal to the Jujutsu World and committed to the greater good, she knows about the prophecy and she can't afford to witness another loss on the Jujutsu community part.

"I'll go and tell Gojo and Megumi then– maybe Y/n is there"

.......

[ Kill her, and I'll bring your cash tomorrow when I see her lifeless body ]

Read Toji through the message that he received,

"See! I'm ordered to kill you now! How much trouble did you cause her for her to free me from the prison just to torture you and kill you" he said with a smirk

"F-fuck you and fuck her" you said through gritted teeth as you were thrown on the floor, your body hurting from the chains that were tied around your wrists and feet.

your lips and nose bleeding after hours of tortures,

"And you still got that attitude, after being beaten up? If I were you I wouldn't act so brave.."

"You'll never be me Toji! we're both considered inferior in the Jujutsu world but I learned how to be the real me and not what others want me to be, I didn't let others to order me around and kill people–"

"Are you trying to save yourself? and convince me to not kill you"

"no, I know I can't be saved, not just now but for a long time ago, but you know the funny thing is that we actually have something else in common beside being monkeys" you joked offensively trying to get on his nerves, you're going to die anyway so why'd you not offend him, you were tired if being stepped on so why not talk back.

"what?" he said in anticipation as he kneeled down,

"Both our families are disappointed in us, I disappointed my parents and you disappointed your son, Megumi, nice kid he's nothing like you–"

"M-megumi?"

And you struck a sensitive nerve in him,

You started laughing when you saw his face dropped and his expressions changed, your stomach hurts whenever you laughed he probably had broken some of yours ribs.

The you paused,

"Do it Toji. Do what you were assigned for, no one will come to my rescue anyway, do it, kill me" you said in a serious tone,

"Change in plan, let me have my fun with you before I take the light out of your eyes"

"You still have time for fun? the dawn will break soon–"

"Oh I know princess, don't you worry about it, I know I can't delay the sunlight but I know how to make the night even more darker... and you were right, Megumi's probably disappointed in me but lemme tell you something–" he paused and leaned forward, his face a few inches away from yours "That's who I truly am, a beast that preys on the weak, and you are weak Y/n no matter how hard you try to come off as strong"

he said and he reached to take off your shirt,

Your heart beats quickened, you thought he'd torture you in another way, and not attempt to do something filthy to you,

"No -no! I'd rather die" you said trying your best to break free from his grasp, but his huge body got you pinned down,

"What? you're not a fan of big guys? or your pathetic ass is loyal to a husband who's never paid attention to your existence?" he said looking you deep in the eyes, his huge hands circling around your neck, posing pressure on it,

You couldn't deny the pain and disappointment you felt. You really hoped Gojo would appear and save you, you wished he cared for you. You couldn't deny that you wanted Gojo; your husband to be your first time and not with someone who would brutally kill you after taking what he wants.

You'd die even before he kills you.

"no don't " you whispered, loosing your voice as his grip around your neck tightened, making it hard to breathe.

....

"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HER"

All what you can feel is the weight of Toji's body being removed from on top of you.

Toji's body forcefully thrown on the ground, your blurry eyes trying to focus on the figure standing right in front of you, slowly approaching you,

"Damn baby what did he do to you?" he said softly, softly brushing his finger over your bleeding lip.

"S-satoru, y-you came!" you whispered, your vision darkening and ears ringing,

"Of course I'm here with you, Y/n! Y/N !!!!!no no Y/N WAKE UP" he yelled as he held you in his arms.

....

Your eyes slowly fluttered opened, your surroundings sharpening into details again, gulping with difficulty.

A serum attached to your vein,

"Sensei" said Yuji "Guys she's awake"

With that all of them circled around the bed you were laying on, their eyes look directly at you, greeting you with sincere smiles.

"How are you feeling?" asked Megumi.

You tried to leave the bed but they forced you to lay back. You looked around scanning the place, you were in the hospital, Shoko must have treated your wounds, everyone was there except your husband, Satoru.

Tag list ✨

@smolbeanzzz @khaleesihavilliard @tqd4455 @black-swan-blog27 @certainduckanchor @haitanibros0007 @goldenjoyboyy @lorako123 @kunikuzushisbeloved @saiyara05 @numblytemporary @soulofendlessbook @bookswillfindyouaway @sukunasleftkneecap @ryumurin @twitabread @f1uveryysblog @sleepyyammy @olivianyx @animechick555 @allofffmypeaches @inlovewithlondonn @tw0fvced @markleeisdabestdrug @blvckxb3vutii @bol0-de-morang0 @ghostfacefricker6969

@luna-lunique

@shervinss

@eolivy

@caycaysblogg

@butterskyy

@myloveforharrystylesneverenough

@sanriosatoru

@ioriorigami

@kiki17483

@maskedpacific

@iantheandmargaux

@ssetsuka

@sm3156

@hermitkerm

@itzmartuuwu

@username23345

@kendall0111

@thoughfullovercreator

@oinixd

@ropickle

@cre8inghavoc

@realveryreal5875

@nikkimvriee

@olivianyx

[according2thelore]

No thoughts, just mpreg dean/dean with a baby dealing with soulless sam, who suddenly has stopped caring about their child(when he couldn't shut up about how much he loved the kid before)

hi, ari!!!! my head hit the wall and i passed out. this idea is so FUN!!

my mind went immediately to three places so let's discuss them unendingly starting riiiiiiiiiiiight now!

i. dean is pregnant when sam jumps into the pit, the baby is 6+ months old when soulless!sam comes to get him

it's a miracle lisa even let him through the front door. in an omegaverse world, his mating bond has literally just fucking shattered so he's a wreck in every single sense of the word, and he's pregnant with some other alpha's baby. in a non-a/b/o world, he's literally still pregnant by some other person.

it's only through her intervention that the baby gets born at all, really. she takes him to his appointments (first contact at 28 weeks is pretty unusual, and the nurses all look at each other with raised brows), shoves prenatal vitamins down his throat, and slaps bottles of whiskey out of his hands.

it's only when she grabs him by the shoulders and says, you are going to kill sam's baby, that dean finally locks the fuck in. he insists on going to the ER at every twitch of the baby, at every morning the baby doesn't move for a few hours, every time his back hurts or his stomach cramps. this baby is the last piece of sam he will ever get, so he is not going to lose it because he's too weak to keep it.

the baby is born. when she opens her eyes, they're hazel. dean cries, and cries, and cries. he names her samantha, a tongue-in-cheek nod he hopes sam would approve of. it gives him an excuse to put sam's name in his mouth again. he barely lets baby sammy out of his sight for the first six months.

dean puts the baby down for a nap before he gets knocked out in his garage. soulless!sam forgot dean was even pregnant, so after dean collapses in his arms and kisses him stupid then freaks out and asks where the baby is, sam is like?? baby?? oh shit yeah. you give birth to it? or give it up?

now, before sam jumped into the pit, he'd lay with his head on dean's stomach for hours. dean would wake up more than once in the middle of the night to find sam yapping away to dean's baby bump. his hands would never be far from it, until dean snapped at him that it was still his damn body, hands off. sam was so crestfallen that dean let him have at it again.

sam spent his last night before the cage carving protection sigils into a thin, small metal loop. a bracelet. for when they're old enough, sam said. he loved that bump more than life itself, so when sam is so blasé, dean doesn't know what to do.

he takes sam back to meet his daughter, and sam clearly doesn't want to hold her.

"she looks like me," sam says, like he found an interesting fact in a book, and not holding a squirming infant that's trying to grab at his long hair.

dean's last straw is when sam tells him, "we can't take it with us!" when dean starts packing his and samantha's bags. dean blows up. he's been fighting tooth and nail not to put a bullet in his brain for over a year so she could be born and have a dad for the first few months of her life. "it" is their daughter, sam's daughter, and sam--who's catching onto the fact that he's going to have to pretend to care about this thing to get dean to go with him, immediately sobers.

"i'm sorry. i didn't mean that. i can't--i can't. it's an adjustment. i'm...overwhelmed. but i love you both." and since they don't throw the "L" bomb around a lot, dean immediately shuts up. he probably just overreacted, right? sam didn't mean it like that. sam loves this kid.

but sam never really steps up. he changes diapers and feeds formula and buys diaper cream, but he doesn't talk to the baby. not once. he moves in efficient silence. since he doesn't sleep, dean wakes up and finds sam staring down at her in her pop-up crib like he's trying to solve a calculus problem. eyes narrowed, mouth thin. something's wrong with sam, something major, but dean doesn't know what it is.

ii. ignoring regular physiology, dean finds out he's pregnant after sam jumps into the pit, and is still pregnant when soulless!sam comes to get him.

even though this one is impossible, this one is very fun to me because sam immediately is like "😮 you let someone get you pregnant! wow! whose is it?" like they're old high school friends instead of pretty committed enmeshed weirdos.

and when dean says, "it's yours?? wtf?" sam is visibly disappointed, because he's thinking, well shit now we gotta take the damn thing with us.

for this one, sam just straight up does not care that dean is being safe or healthy. dean is expecting something--sam to insist on dean not lifting heavy shit since he's clearly about to pop, dean to eat his daily dose of nutrients, something--but sam can't be bothered.

he even suggests dean be bait a few times, because no one will suspect a pregnant person. dean is kind of agog, and feels stupid for expecting sam to fuss over and/or pamper him a little bit. dean says he has to piss because the baby is using his bladder like a speed bag, and sam insists dean hold it for a few more miles (fifty more miles, to be exact) because they're almost to their destination.

when dean's water breaks, and he waddles into the motel room from the bathroom, covered in sweat and freaking out, sam only barely looks up from his laptop. "you sure?" he asks. he goes and gets dinner in the middle of the birth, and justifies it to dean when he brings him back a wrapped ham sandwich like, "hey man you looked hungry too."

iii. the baby is born right before sam jumps into the pit, and is an actual walking/toddling one-year-old when soulless!sam comes to get him. or them, in this case.

asm doesn't sleep at all the night before the pit, instead laying on his side and letting the baby wrap his little fist around sam's finger. he watches his little chest rise and fall all night, tears in his eyes that don't fall. he holds little john until the last possible second, until castiel passes him his first gallon jug of demon blood. he kisses his little head, wispy with barely-there brown hair, and gently hands him to bobby like he's the most fragile thing in the entire world.

bobby's the godfather (and gets the middle name, robert), and castiel is the godmother. when dean gave him the title with a snort, castiel didn't get why it was funny. is it because i have a penis? he asked. i am the closest thing to a godmother that exists in this state. the next angel is three states over.

sam tells dean before he starts drinking that his first word better be 'daddy,' or he'll haunt his ass. dean doesn't even crack a smile, and says "yeah," unblinking.

sam jumps, and dean doesn't know it, but one of the things he sees before he does is dean passed out on a motel bed, baby john sleeping on his chest, both of them dappled in light from the slatted windows.

dean goes to lisa, hollow-eyed and empty, a baby in his arms, who cries and cries and cries and cries and cries, because the one person that can calm him down in the middle of the night is being ripped apart for eternity at this exact moment.

ben adores the baby. he picks him up and takes to being a big brother like a duck to water. when the baby starts saying "ba," ben insists john's saying his name.

sam comes to get him. he asks if they can leave the baby with lisa. dean thinks he's being protective, but considering dean spent a few months literally sleeping on the floor in front of the baby's crib because he'd panic if he couldn't hear him breathing immediately shuts it down. john was his tie to sanity. not happening.

john, despite only being a month or two old when sam jumped, immediately becomes obsessed with him again. he picks up sam's fingers to chew on them. he won't go to bed until sam talks to him, low and quiet. sam hates it.

sam goes on a solo hunt for a few days and comes back to dean sleeping with john in the impala because they got kicked out of the motel for the noise complaint of baby john crying himself to sleep the entire time sam was gone. i can't be expected to handcuff us together, can i? sam asks, genuinely baffled.

dean feels like he's nineteen again, having to play referee between dad and sam constantly butting heads. except it's sam and his child that wants to be picked up by daddy.

when they drop john off at bobby's for the night, dean can see sam actually exhale in relief as they leave his house in the rearview. it sits in his stomach like rot.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS ASK OH MY GODDDDDDDDD i had SO MUCH FUN THINKING ABOUT IT AHHHH

-lizzy

[true-blue-sonic]

Got an idea for an Espilver fic taking place during Forces from an ask, so enjoy ^-^

~~~~

“WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?!?!”

Sonic shoots right up. The walls of the infirmary shake, the sweet nurse tending to him and Silver loses all colour in her face, and the door to outside heaves a deafening creak as Espio hurls it open and slams it against the wall.

“Hey, Espio,” Silver purrs from one bed over.

“Um,” the nurse brings out in a squeak. “Uh, Mister Espio…!”

Espio does not listen from where he comes storming inside. And it has been six months, and as much as Sonic hates it, that long stretch of time has been enough to make most memories of his dearest friends just a bit dulled at the edges and muted as a whole.

But he’s never seen the chameleon looking this frantic before, of that he is certain.

“Are you okay?!” is the next thing that gets yelled out, luckily at a more manageable volume. Probably because a handful of manic paces has put Espio right next to Silver’s twitching ears… and Sonic stares, just a bit dumbfounded, as purple arms fling themselves over a grey chest and the duo becomes one.

“Help,” the nurse mouths to Sonic from where she stands frozen in a corner, her eyes wide and terrified. He doesn’t really know either, the speedster shrugs back. Heck, as far as he knew, both Silver and Espio aren’t exactly fond of being touched… yet that idea couldn’t fit more poorly with the hug they’re both in now, considering how Espio all but lays half on Silver’s chest and Silver presses their heads together as if to merge them both into a single being of fright and affection. When Sonic strains his ears he can hear Silver’s murmurs that it’s okay, and Espio’s that it’s very much not, and the speedster slowly sinks down into the pillows again. Not that he wants to listen in or anything, but this nurse is both sweet and very good at insisting he and Silver stay here to rest and recover. Getting up now will only draw his friends’ attention in all the wrong ways. Thus he waits, gaze flicking over the two bodies so tautly pressed against each other until finally, slowly, chameleon pulls away.

“I’m okay. Really,” Silver whispers, fingers curling around Espio’s hand. It gets tugged up to a pale peach muzzle, that gets cupped ever so tenderly for a moment while the two seem to drown in each other’s eyes.

Sonic cannot place the look on Espio’s face, not exactly. Anger, sure; relief, certainly. But also something else…?

“That… that’s good,” the other shakily nods back. Purple shoulders sink down, the noise from a chair scraping over the ground making Sonic grimace as psychokinesis pulls it closer and Espio collapses on top of it. Silence stretches out afterwards, in which Silver expectantly studies Espio and Sonic does too… until the chameleon’s face of relief shifts and tenses. “Because what were you thinking. Have you lost your mind?!” follows, much more heatedly. “You can’t just- You didn’t even-!”

“I told you I was going to fight him. The soldiers needed hope,” Silver shrugs, altogether callously.

“You can’t just say that to me and then just leave!”

Silver smiles; half guiltily, half cheekily. “I did give you a kiss. That very much did happen.”

“Yes,” Espio huffs back, yet the way his hand tenses around Silver’s does not match the irate lashing of his tail or the unwavering eye contact between two golden gazes. Which is lucky for Sonic, whose own eyes have widened to plates as he hears that confession.

Kissed?

...But he knows better than to speak up now, what with the way Espio is fretting. “And then you ran off,” the chameleon adds with just the smallest of wavering cracks in his voice, “and you nearly-!”

“Nearly dying isn’t actually dying," the absolutely incorrigible response comes, and that at least is a normal Silver thing to say amidst some others Sonic would never, ever have expected to hear from him.

“…No. No, it is not.” Face souring Espio holds Silver close still, Sonic grimacing at the look of deeply concerned anger twisting his features. He knows well enough that Espio feels strongly about the protection of Charmy especially and also Vector…

But apparently, in the past six months Silver had been added to that as well.

“And besides,” the hedgehog in question continues, “Amy called Sonic in for me immediately. Even if we lost, it was a sign for the people that it’s not hopeless and our foe not invincible.”

“That- Maybe, but- You…!” are the approximate sputters filling the air, Espio shifting and fussing. “I don’t… Don’t you dare do that ever again! Next time this happens, I’m going with you!”

“Ooh. A date,” Silver grins… and Sonic cannot muffle a surprised snort this time.

Two sets of golden eyes shoot over in an instant, equally narrowed and peeved. “Sonic. It is rude to listen in on others’ conversations,” Espio speaks up first, a veneer of threatening politeness in his voice.

“Yes! This isn’t your business,” Silver nods, though his lips twitch up more amusedly and a discreet wink follows as well. Shifting himself upwards with a quiet groan the hedgehog rolls his eyes as gloved hands grasp and tug at him to push him down, his head altogether leaning into Espio’s chest with how he’s sitting. “Perhaps you should leave Espio and me to discuss this in private, hmm?”

“Woops! Sorry,” Sonic retorts, weighing his options with especially Espio glaring a hole in him. Silver clearly wants him to leave… and, coincidentally, he himself would rather be out and about as well, and staying in stuffy infirmaries doesn’t exactly fit with that. Besides, relationships aren’t his thing; nor is he one for lovey-dovey discussions and flirting or relationship arguments, or whatever it is Silver and Espio are doing now. None of his business.

Stifling a sigh of relief despite the aching and complaining in his legs Sonic pushes himself onto the ground, giving the nurse shooting over with a protesting noise an assuring smile. Laying still isn’t his thing either; going on a walk sounds exactly like what he needs, after everything. “I’ll be going on a short trip around the Resistance,” the speedster decrees, gratefully wrapping an arm around the nurse’s shoulder to stabilise himself. She probably also shouldn’t stay here if Silver and Espio are going to have a heated argument or apparently make out; Sonic can’t exactly tell which one if more likely with how the two are acting. Shuffling to the door with her help the speedster shoots them a wink. “Have fun.”

“We will,” Silver begins to agree-

Except Espio leans over, tail lashing and the hedgehog’s face grabbed firmly.

“After I’m done scolding you.”

“Espio,” Silver grouses back, floundering in his grasp, and that is the last Sonic sees of what they’re doing as he limps through the cracked door into the hallway. It’s not the last he hears: that would be what he suspects is a kiss, if Espio’s surprised noise followed by a soft sigh and Silver’s happy hum within a suspicious stretch of silence is any indication.

…And after that, it’s Espio, in an endless ramble about responsibility and not being reckless and being careful on the battlefield.

“…Romantic?” the nurse whispers as if she’s scared Espio will overhear, Sonic laughing at that. He can only hope for Silver the other can sneak in some more kisses to quiet Espio down if that’s what they’re doing with each other these days. Well, things can change in six months, that much is obvious. And why would love be unfindable in times of war?

“That’s who Espio and Silver are,” he assures his current companion. “Headstrong, the both of them.”

Pulling a scolding face herself the nurse shakes her head. “As are you, Mister Sonic. Sit down. You must rest,” the speedster gets ordered, the nurse all but pushing him onto the first seat they come across in some quiet area with a few couches and chairs. Sonic lets her, gesturing for her to sit down as well and humming sympathetically at her sigh as she collapses into the cushions as well. “I… I hope those two will be alright,” follows slowly. “Mister Espio seems… upset. I think.”

A smile forms on Sonic’s face before he can help it. “I know them well enough. They will be, I promise.”

Alright and dating and in love with each other, apparently.

Well, Sonic tells himself as he makes himself comfortable for the coming few hours, any sign that love and faith and hope persevere even in the darkest of times is one the Resistance can use to keep their heads up, and one that proves wrong their adversary on top. And when Espio’s voice in the distance has finally quieted down again and Sonic has limped his way back to the infirmary to get some shuteye, the speedster can only smile at the both of them:

Espio laying on the blankets with Silver underneath, snuggled in his embrace, and both as closely held together as possible.

Seems like they’ll have a few things to celebrate once this war is over, Sonic smiles to himself; a comforting thought that lulls him into a gentle sleep himself.

[imamotherfuckingstar-lord]

look at me, part 12

Sanji x Reader (eventual), slow burn Warning: slow burn, pining, drinking, eventual smut in later chapters. 18&older. a/n: Comment below if you want to be tagged in this series. Summary:  After joining the Straw Hats after leaving Fish-Man island, reader is using the time between islands to get to know her new crewmates. Well, except for one. Sanji’s fawning and cooing over the opposite sex drives reader crazy - how can she get him to see past her looks? And does she even want him to notice her? masterlist

The dress shop was filled to brim with dresses for any occasion; Robin held out a sleeveless short black dress while Nami glanced over the prices of nearby dresses. Shaking your head, you continued to look through the racks. The crew had docked at Nabala, the island Sanji had picked out with Nami two weeks ago. It was a small but quaint island with a lively bustling city. Shops galore with several cafés and taverns that were bound to entertain all the Straw Hats. Sanji had asked for you to meet him back at Sunny at sunset and suggested you go shopping with the girls.

“Sanji would like this one.” Nami pulled out a revealing red sparkling dress and you gagged.

“Yeah. No.”

Robin laughed. “Not very ladylike.”

“Right, I forgot we’re in the presence of a princess.”

Giving the navigator an unfriendly hand gesture, you studied all the dresses around you before collapsing on the small loveseat next to Robin. Her head turned to you and a hand appeared above your head to give you a pat. Laughing, you thanked her but confessed you had something to tell them. Nami immediately moved away from the clothing rack and asked if something was wrong.

“It’s about Sanji and I.”

“Oh,” Robin smiled. “Do you need the talk?”

Her motherly reaction and the shocked expression you sent to Nami had the three of you roaring in laughter. Holding your side, you promised her you didn’t need that talk. “I’ve been around. Not a lot, but enough to know. Remember the arranged marriage I was born into?”

Nerves rattled your body; it wasn’t like Sanji and you wanted to hide this revelation. The two of you had decided eventually to come clean about your entangled past and now it seemed the time to tell your friends. “Well, that night Sanji walked me to my room after drinking too much…”

“He touched you.”

“Nami!”

She grinned. “I’m kidding, I know he would never.”

“He’s not like that,” you agreed, ignoring the stare Robin and Nami were giving you. You knew exactly what they were thinking. “Yes. I did shoot him once for being an idiot, but I’ve realized he’s just harmless. Plus, we’ve gotten to really know each other, in fact, we discovered our families knew one another.”

Nami’s face fell in thought and it took Robin a whole two seconds before she let out a soft “oh”. It clicked for Nami then and you fell silent, staring out the shop’s window at the people walking by. Every single person looked content, and you wondered if people thought the same when they looked at you. When they looked at Sanji and you, together.

“So…Sanji and you were supposed to be married?”

“Yes. Our families had arranged the marriage when I was born, and Sanji was a small child. There’s more to the story but I…I can’t relive the pain of losing my sisters when I left. So, yes, we both ran away from our families, but we never met until now.”

The two women stood silent, and you hoped the explanation was enough; Sanji had told you all the gruesome details of his childhood. You sat up all night with him weeks ago, exchanging stories and when he talked about his mother – all you could see was a child in Sanji’s eyes. A sweet child and you held him tight when he cried in your arms under the stars. You understood him more after that night and you weren’t going to tell his story to anyone. He would be the one and you would be more than willing to keep quiet.

“That’s amazing.” Robin’s voice was quiet, and you looked at her. “What an interesting world we live in, huh?”

“Crazy, you would have been Sanji’s wife!” Nami’s smile fell when Robin pointed out if that had happened, neither Sanji nor you would have ever joined the crew. “Right…well I’m glad it never happened then. Although, who knows what lies in the future.”

Nami’s teasing tone had your body warm with embarrassment, but it was a shy embarrassment that tingled down to your toes. “Well. You better find a cute dress for your betrothed and a good one at that.”

Robin got up from her seat and began scouring through the racks of dresses, while Nami pointed out the ones that were on sale, but you just sat on the couch and watched them for a moment. Then it hit you – the perfect dress wasn’t anywhere in the shop. It was on the Sunny, in your closet.

….

The cobblestone’s clicked under your boots, which were hidden under the purple dress that once belonged to your mother. The one you stole before running away from a life that never felt like your own. The last thing you owned represented where you had come from – your family and memories were sewn into the hem of the dress. The fabric was soft cotton, light purple with small cap sleeves. Nami was able to let it out a bit – it had been your mother’s dress from her youth, and you hadn’t been as tiny as she was. After a few quick alterations, Nami had made it fit like a glove. It was a simple dress, but you loved it the moment your mother showed it to you.

“It wasn’t the most extravagant thing I owned back then but I was wearing this when I met your father.”

An aching emerged that hadn’t shown in a long time – you wondered how your parents were and if they missed you.

“I don’t know why I had to come bring you here.”

Zoro grumbled next to you but when you offered to release him from the duties Nami bestowed on him, he refused. He didn’t want to hear Nami complaining but you suspected she had paid him to come bring you to the restaurant Sanji had made a reservation at. It wasn’t like you couldn’t have walked through the city yourself – it wasn’t like you didn’t have your pistols holstered at your thighs, but Nami insisted. “Can’t let the princess walk around by herself.”

“This princess thing is never going to stop, is it?” She had answered your question with a smirk and shooed you off the Sunny. Now, Zoro was taking you to the restaurant and after a few minutes, you realized he was lost.  He cursed when the two of you stopped in front of a restaurant and he scratched the back of his head. “She said it was next to a bar, see, there’s a bar right there.”

He pointed at the tavern next to the café and you sighed. “Well, I guess I can go in and see if Sanji’s in there.”

“Why didn’t the cook just come get you from the ship! Idiot.”

“Because Mosshead, I needed to make sure the restaurant was up to par.”

Looking to your left, Sanji stood there in a new black suit with a light blue button up. He looked handsome as always, but he just stared at Zoro. “You can leave now.”

“Whatever,” he muttered, looking at me with dull eyes. “You can do better.”

Sanji yelled at him before relaxing once he disappeared into the bar, turning his attention to you. His eyes took in the dress, and he felt his heart aching with adoration, sympathy. He knew what your family meant to you – even if you acted like it wasn’t a big deal. The love he saw in your eyes every time you mentioned your sisters – his heart ached for you but God, you looked so beautiful. He walked over to you, touching your chin with his hand.  Sanji kissed you softly on the lips and asked if you were ready for dinner.

“It took all morning to find the perfect restaurant on this island and I found it. Are you ready for our first date?” Heart pounding like drums, you said yes and reached down for his hand. He took it delicately and felt relief sizzle throughout his body. It hit him then, more than it ever had, that he could never look at another woman in his life and experience the feeling he did every time he looked at you. Every time you walked into the kitchen, seeking him out.

Looking for him on the ship, just to see what he was doing.

Just to occupy space in his life.

Happy to just be at his side.

Sanji was overwhelmed with the way you were making him feel and he wondered if the thing he was feeling, right as you stood in front of him, hand in his, was love.

....

short chapter but next will include date and them going to their shared hotel.....

sorry this took so long. more parts to come soon!

Wanna be tagged? Leave comment below.

@akfonkin​ @blackray2 

@leslievinsmoke​ @fandomtrash100​ 

@eternalsong513​ @zoro0stan @erensjuicytitancock 

@its-not-too-late-for-coffee @rhys-cosmos 

@bucciaratizippers @maria-chwan @youtubequeens 

@fandomtrash100 @gojutsu 

@my-veiled-romance

@spamhanjispet 

@leo-heart  

@toruchqn @alphaash99

 @ashbash2403 @katsujordan 

@utauchiha @mei-mei01  @iceviolet11 

@icunee @somekale08 @fandomhoe101 @tgthgal 

@audreys-works

@okaruen @mmeerraa @utakamo @the-one-and-only-toru

people who liked the last part - let me know if you want off this list!

@sweetlychaotic @justheretbf @milk-quiem @buddha-for-mery @tra-guys @afrillisdark @kira12457 @yourfavoritecitrusfruuit @aschisanerd @modernmoony @lineelilii @esnowzinhozinho

@elitesanjisimp @iceviolet11 @creamy-dreamy-69 @ashbash2403

@mellowkryptonitecloud

[redistrictgirl]

The Big Gut Check - Presidency

Disclaimer: This is NOT my model and this is NOT statistics-focused.

We’re in the final countdown to the second wacky federal election in a row. I have all the information I want to set some personal expectations, and a LOT of you wanted to see my hunch, so here it is. I disagree with my model.

I think Vice President Harris is in a very good position heading into Election Day. I’m not saying that as a left-leaning hack, I’m saying this from the same place that made me predict the winners of 49 out of 50 states correctly in 2020. I’m also hopeful that, after four years of studying the intricacies of electoral politics in my free time, those feelings are even sharper. I doubt I’m going to bat .980 again, to be clear, but I think I can at least provide more insight than the people who just say “it’s close, IDK” or “Harris is gonna win South Carolina” or “New Hampshire is a tossup!”

Let’s break down what I expect to be the closest states as well as some of my hot takes, including my reasoning. Margin predictions will be within two points, because a four-point range tells us nothing and trying to call it within a single point is like trying to hit a dartboard bullseye with a giant Sharpie. My favorite points of consideration included:

My hypothesis of modern political gravity, where elections center around a D+3 margin (+/- 1) in the popular vote on presidential years.

Nate Silver’s, Nate Cohn’s, and Ettingermentum’s analyses of pollster herding (or adjusting of results excessively to match the consensus).

The final Selzer, Siena, and Marist polls, parsed with an understanding of them as snapshots and not predictions.

A few smart peoples’ analyses of early voting in Pennsylvania. (Ralston would have made it too if he didn’t drag his feet.)

General Thoughts: I think Ms. Harris is being underestimated, both because her national polling average has fallen substantially below the D+2 to D+4 range we would expect from our highly polarized electorate and because her statewide polling is atrocious compared to even that. Herding might be contributing here. Mr. Trump’s campaign, meanwhile, is incredibly nervous, to the point where THEY LEAKED AN INTERNAL THAT STILL SHOWED HIM LOSING GROUND FROM 2020. I’m also seeing a high enthusiasm factor from Democrats, not just in opinion polling, but on the ground compared to what I saw in the heart of Atlanta in Fall 2020 (to be fair, enthusiasm among the GOP is also clearly substantial!) I was real about Ms. Harris’ collapse in October, but I think she’s bouncing back at the perfect time and polls are missing it (similarly to Mr. Trump in 2016, some might argue.)

Wisconsin: Yes, this is probably going to be the tipping point state again. I don’t care that Pennsylvania is supposedly closer in the polls, this happened in 2020 too. That said, we have a very good poll for Ms. Harris here from Marist and the state shares a border with Iowa (more on that later). Harris +0 to +2

Pennsylvania: 2022 repeat. Early vote has been exactly what Democrats need and hedging has been berserk in this state. The only thing that makes me hesitate on this is an even poll from Siena, even if the Marist one was rough for Mr. Trump. Harris +1 to +3

North Carolina: This might be a little bit of a surprise given my… other Sun Belt takes. But there’s a fantastic poll for Ms. Harris here from Siena and I think an overall slightly bluer environment than polls indicate will also make this closer than the current data suggest. Though it could be a “Dewey Defeats Truman” situation, Marist’s poll last week is a bright spot for Mr. Trump. Gun to my head, Harris, but this is still my pick for the closest state presidentially. Trump +1 to Harris +1

Nevada: In the absence of Ralston’s guidance, I feel like there’s a lot of split signs between polling and demographics, but this feels like a state Mr. Trump wins in a squeaker. Trump +1 to Harris +1

Georgia: Say what you will about him, but the Georgia GOP is building momentum under Governor Brian Kemp. The top pollsters have broken a bit from the riffraff, being nicer to Democrats, but I don’t think it will be quite enough. Trump +2 to +0

Arizona: If you said this would be Mr. Trump’s best swing state two years ago, I would have laughed in your face. But the polling is undeniable at this point - the former President is approaching 50% in the averages and top pollsters have been even more impressive for him. The crank in me blames Katie Hobbes for being forgettable. Trump +4 to +2

Iowa: I think Ann Selzer might have her first genuine miss on her hands - it’s just too hard to construct a presidential-year environment where Ms. Harris wins the state or keeps it as close as The Big Seven. At the same time, unless she’s comically wrong (and I would never bet that hard against her), there’s almost certainly going to be very real, very substantial movement away from Republicans in the Hawkeye State. Trump +5 to +3

Maine’s Second Congressional District: I’ve been bearish on Mr. Trump here all cycle thanks to a poor showing for the GOP in 2022, and our very limited polling here seems to line up with that. Trump +4 to +2

Kansas: Very demographically similar to Iowa, it was zooming left even before this cycle, and the lone recent poll I believe we have from this state was almost as shocking as Selzer’s, only having the Vice President trailing by 5%. Trump +10 to +8

New Jersey: It would be strange for every non-giant state to trend left or mostly stagnate, and the Garden State seems like a prime candidate to move in Mr. Trump’s direction given its proximity to New York and high nonwhite and (to a lesser extent) Orthodox Jewish population. This is a very wild guess, but hey, no polling to contradict me. Harris +8 to +10

Texas: A rare example where I think pollsters might be herding in favor of Ms. Harris, considering the border (again), nonwhite population (again), and the fact that Siena’s most recent poll, despite being nearly ten days old, had Mr. Trump gaining in the state. Trump +7 to +5

[spinchip]

Idk if you’re still taking prompts but maybe some nice emperor au stuff? Freaking love the au.as for the actual prompt uhhh…. Zanes first year vs his last year in the never realm maybe? Or ooooh some angsty post-staff collapse when he lost the staff and started falling apart

“The Emperor is a good man,” Sorla says, voice heavy with respect, “If your friend has come through his halls, he will have surely fed and housed him. And if he has not visited the Emperor then I'm certain he would do his best to help you find him.”

They’re sat around a large, crackling fire in Sorlas home, nursing tea and a modest dinner she’d prepared herself as they’d all warmed up in her living room. Akita and Kataru had delivered the letter they’d been sent with once Sorla had finished her own plate, and she was reading over the official document with wise eyes even as she spoke. The envelope had been sealed with dark blue wax, the emblem a simple snow flake, and the siblings that had found the ninja had been taking their duty to deliver it extremely seriously.

“What’s it say?” Kataru asks, trying not to peer over he shoulder to read along. Akita peers over her shoulder to read along.

“My presence is requested at the palace. He needs to put his affairs in order for an upcoming visit.” Sorla hums.

“Oh, who’s coming? The dignitaries from the Western Archipelago? The Emperor and I were discussing the trade offer they had sent us not too long ago, perhaps they've decided to come negotiate in person.” Kataru ruminates, “Or maybe it’ll be Lord Haoran.”

“Ugh, I hope it’s not King Desperate.” Akita throws herself back in her chair, “He needs to get the hint- Emp’s not interested! Move on!” she makes a shooing motion with her hand.

“He didn’t specify.” Sorla hums, “So I suppose I will be accompanying you all on your journey to the palace.”

The Ninja all exchange a glance before Lloyd starts slowly, “Listen, about that… it’s not that we don’t trust you, of course, and thank you for taking us in and for dinner but… it just seems…”

“Too good to be true.” Nya finishes with a wince.

Sorla laughs kindly, “Ah, I understand that. When he first appeared in our lands many years ago, i believed the same thing. A ronin with no lord to promise his honor... I was skeptical of his motives, but I assure you the Emperor has proven himself a thousand times over. He is a good man, and a steady one.”

Akita leans over the table into Lloyd face, “Want to hear how we met?”

Closing his eyes, Kataru grimaces at the memory, “Our clan had been displaced in territorial skirmishes with Vex around this period, chased off our land and living in temporary settlements. We were originally based in a village further north, but we chose to retreat past Mala-Wojira for the safety it offered-”

“We were Attacked!” Akita launches into the juicy part of the story, cutting her brother off mid sentence. “Vex sent the Krag out to destroy us! The were 20 feet tall, ready to wipe us out or force us to comply-”

“They were not- they get taller every time you tell the story!” Kataru claps a hand over his sisters mouth, “Krag are typically 9 to twelve feet tall, twenty is ridiculous- and it wasn’t just Krag, but also some of Vex’s loyalists who set fire to our tents and attempted to destroy our rations- EW don’t lick my hand!”

Akita takes advantage of Katarus disgust to pick up the story, “It was looking bleak until… the Emperor swept in! With a sweep of his cape he extinguished the fire completely! before chasing off Vex’s cronies with just a single, sharp look!”

They blink at Akita, the story sounding… less than plausible.

“We were just young kids at the time, and we thought we could help. We ended up getting caught in a really bad spot.”

“...Between a rock and a massive burning wall of fire,” Akita agrees, losing some of her bravado at the memory.

“The Emperor walked through fire to get to us. He saved our lives.” Katarus' voice goes light with awe and reverence, “He is amazing, okay? He’ll help you.”

The ninja exchanged another glance, “You’ve convinced me.” Cole says for the whole of them, cracking a smile, “Maybe he really can help…”

“You wont regret it!”

“We’ll set off on the journey back tomorrow morning, once it has stopped snowing. For now, we should rest.” Sorla offers them each a blanket and pillow, and the ninja settle down quietly. Akita and Kataru apparently have a personal room here they typically use, but the rest of the guests are regulated to the admittedly soft carpet.

“Do you really think he’ll be a good guy?”

“With our track record? Probably not.” Jay comments dryly.

“We’ll just have to keep our guard up… remember, this is for Zane.” Lloyd laces his fingers worriedly over his chest.

Cole nods along with the others, “For Zane.” They all agree softly, before the night falls silent.

[devilsvenom]

@nolanxthatcher - What Was I Made For? by Billie Eilish

I used to float, now I just fall down...

Feet controlled her instead of the other way around, didn't know where she was going until she was there. Annalise blinked once, twice, as if blinking herself awake; faltering when she realised whose door she found herself in front of. The smart thing would be to turn around, leave. He didn't give a single shit about her, and in fact she truly believed she could count on one hand the people that did. He used to be on that list, didn't he? She couldn't remember now.

I used to know, but I'm not so sure now...

Battling with herself, but did she really have the energy to go elsewhere? She felt like she could collapse right here and sleep through the night. Hand lifted of it's own accord, knuckles rapping at the door. She stood, waiting for him to answer, practically swaying on the spot. Things had gotten so messed up; how had they gotten so messed up? Brothers best friend, a friend, a lover, an enemy. Familiarity. Something she was desperate for. Couldn't get it from her parents, for fear she may kill them if she saw them again. Didn't want to bother her sister, who already had far too much on her plate. One more addition and it might shatter, then that would be two siblings lost. Parents, siblings, friends, enemies... Where had they all gone? Did she do this? Did she get so scared to lose people that she pushed them before they could leap?

What was I made for?

Annalise felt like she had been stood there for an eternity, though she wasn't sure Nolan would ever trust her enough to open the door and let her into his home, not now. Not after everything he'd done to make her hate him, despise him, plot her revenge. Revenge. God, that was a long time ago, wasn't it? Did she even want it anymore? Her brain so foggy, so dampened with everything she couldn't think about what she wanted.

Looked so alive, turns out I'm not real...

"Nolan, please." She called out, trying to keep the break in her voice hidden, unknowing if someone was even on the other side. Voice was hoarse, raspy, from being out searching for her brother. She had been out for hours - days? - and when she couldn't find him, after all that research and nothing showing up, she had resorted to screaming his name until her throat was so raw it hurt to even breathe. "Just today, lets go back a few years. Please. Open the door." Tears pricked at bloodshot eyes, staring at the closed door that she didn't even have the hope to think would open. "I need my big brothers best friend." And yet, he didn't exist anymore.

I'm sad again.

[intimidating-fettuccine]

okay, I think this would finally end the series right?

Could I request Kate and Nina with a reader who is dying in their arms?

This does end the series! We've got all of the creeps with a dying partner now :) I would say I'd do a platonic sibling one for Sally, but quite honestly that's a bit too much angst for even me and I don't think she needs that level of trauma.

Thank you to everyone that sent in requests to get this series written!

Kate:

She can't hear anything. The blood flowing through her body as her heart relentlessly pounds away in fear and confusion overtakes her as all she can hear is her heart hammering away in her ears. She feels as though she's going to pass out, until she feels your hand tenderly grasp her face, her eyes overflowing with tears looking down at you. Her face scrunches up immediately at the look of sheer adoration and love you give her, and she starts wailing out above you as she clutches onto you and holds you tight. Kate has always been the one that gets scared the easiest in the mansion. The dark, crowds of people, loud noises, such common things that most could handle so easily, but she'd always melt into anxiety and fear around them, although her biggest fear over the last few years had changed. It had changed into losing you. Now, here she was, weeping like an infant as she clutched onto your weakening body, living out her biggest fear in real time. She could feel your arms wrapping around her, feel your soothing kisses on her temple, but all she could do was hold you and shake and cry, unsure of what to do or how to help you. Eventually, you calm her down enough to look at you again, and you speak to her, and while she can hear you, her brain is just so foggy it's almost hard to process the things you're saying. 'It'll be okay. You'll make it out of here safe, and you'll come back for me. I want you to be happy, for both of us. I love you.' She shakes her head in denial as she presses emotional kisses to your lips, clinging onto you as you cling to her too. When your grip goes weaker and your lips pressing into hers get less force, she just holds you, rocking back and forth as she tells you how much she loves you and how much she'll miss you. She tries to stay calm now for you, but once that small, broken smile blooms on your lips and your last breath pushes out, that's all she needs to break down in screams again. She doesn't care if someone hears or sees her, she doesn't care about anything anymore. What is there to care about, when the one single shining light in her life has now been extinguished?

Nina:

Everybody knew Nina was capable. She had risen to the top of Zalgo's ranks within a couple of years of being hired by him, proving herself to be a determined leader, one that cared for her fellow teammates and always looked out for them, one that was incredibly skilled and efficient in all of her missions, one that never left anybody behind. That's why, with all of her might, she tries. She tries to carry you, with her own incredibly bruised and battered body, to carry you home. If she wasn't injured she could do it, she tells herself, so she has to force herself to do it now, however, despite her best efforts, she collapses once more, turning to cradle your body so it's her that hits the ground and not you. She's tired. There were more enemies than expected, and the two of you had been taken by surprise. She tried her best to stay close to you, but in a moment of distraction and a shift of focus, you'd taken a deadly blow to the abdomen, one that sent her into a rage as she took out all remaining targets. She had checked on you afterward, and despite trying to hold out hope, she knew the two of you wouldn't make it home, at least not both alive. She had tried to contact someone for help, for backup, but without realizing it her communicator had been broken at some point in the battle. She had been so focused on you that she hadn't even noticed her tears, her sobs, her choked breaths shaking her body, her weakness, she hadn't noticed it until she heard your voice telling her it would be okay. Nina was known for being the happy one, but beneath that happiness was a bitter, unending sadness. She had her family taken from her, and now she was losing you, the most important thing in her life. How cruel. She could tell your end was coming, so she got you both comfortable, and she just held you. You both confessed your final feelings, reminisced about your relationship and your would-have-been future, you cried, you kissed, you held each other, and then... Nina was left alone, all by herself, to cry and mourn another heavy loss, all over again.

[iyliss]

FFIV Job swap AU list, in case i don't draw anything else and forget what's in it. For the record there is no difference in roles nor plot, only in what job they have and the surrounding aesthetics. Everyone switch with someone else ~

Mage!Cecil: blessed in magical arts since he was a little kid, Cecil was strongly encouraged by the king to study magic. However as he grew he was pushed more and more toward black magic and completely dropped any healing. He ended up losing hope his powers could be used for anything but pain and destruction. Once he reached mount ordeal, a gentle light reminded him he also had white magic in him and he began using both.

Knight!Kain: last son of a long line of legendary knights of Baron, Kain was raised in defiance of magic. He has ambivalent feelings toward it, mostly a strong insecurity from his inability to cast a single spell. Golbez promised him access to the forbidden magic of dark knights and, when they face each other again, Cecil begs him to stop destroying his body for the sake of power. (I don't know yet if afterward he should remain a dark knight, turn paladin, or become just a magicless knight).

Dragoon!Rosa: having loved the sky and winds since her youth, Rosa caused much worries to her mother when she decided to walk in her parents' footstep and become a dragoon. Always seeking freedom, he jumped out of the highest tower's window to find Cecil when she didn't see him return from Mist. Her imprisonment by Barbariccia involves numerous metaphor on "clipping her wing" and "keeping the little bird in cage".

The rest will be hidden because I'm afraid it'll be long.

Ninja!Rydia: from the hidden underground ninja village of Myst, Rydia was taught how to hide in the fog and use ninjutsu by her mother. When Cecil led the village to collapse on itself, she found herself trapped underground and was saved by him. Afterward, at mount hobs, she has to face her fear and crawl in a way too small for anyone else to find a way through the mountain. She later felled down in the sylph's realm and, adopted by them, learned even more tricks.

Summoner!Edge: isolated from other human countries, Eblan found connection with the eidolon. They felt closer to them through the tower of Babil, extending from the dephts to the sky. The royal family traditionaly carried a special bond with eidolons and could summon them to protect their people. Having only recently received this power from his parents - before they were captured by the enemy- Edge swore to use all his magic to avenge them.

For the last four playable characters, I was hesitating between switching yang-edward and edward-tellah or yang-cid and tellah-edward. given how little a bard yang works, i'll go with the second.

Sage!Edward: A huge bookworm, Edward often dress as a student in magic to travel around Damcyan and learn from what he sees. However he fears take over whenever he has to fight and he forgets all his spells. He is far stronger when he can remain calm.

Bard!Tellah: A travelling singer with a deadly way with words. He can break anyone's confidence with a few blunt lines. (Also just imagine the scene where he hits Edward but he does so with his lute). Once he sets out to kill Golbez, he finds the ancient song meant to break the soul of anyone who hears it.

Engineer!Yang: Fabul has recently become one of the most technologically advanced kingdom of the blue planet, in most part thanks to Yang. He manage an army of mechanicians helping him build all kind of invention. His wife is not quite pleased to see him return home late and covered in soot.

Monk!Cid: The excentric man in charge of training the youth of Baron. He spends all his days training, meditating, then training some more. He spent a lot of time with Cecil and Rosa when they were kids, helping them improve their body and concentration.

White Mage!Palom: A mischievious white mage who loves to be begged and pleaded and praised for the smallest healing spells. He greatly enjoy the power he has on people.

Black Mage!Porom: A studious black mage who is very interested in the world around her and how elements work together. She loves learning and giving lesson on everything she sees.

I didn't know what to make of Golbez, at first I considered switching him from black to white mage but the idea of reverting light and darkness through FFIV is so cool I think is worth its own AU (Cecil starts as a paladin, zemus being light-themed...). Instead I guess he should be more of a swordsman/knight? Which. I guess. you can just see ffxiv for the visual of it. HOWEVER FOR THE FOUR FIENDS-

Scarmiglione, will-o'-the-wisp themed: many lost traveled found their end on mount ordeal and their soul's fire, never finding peace, joined Scarmiglione's army. Instead of zombies he has spirits.

Cagnazzo, fortress themed: he seeks the strenght and power of castles made of stone. He means to make Baron into he's untouchable fortress.

Barbariccia, sea themed: empress of the ocean, the tower of zot is an ancient ruin at the bottom of the sea. Her hair are made of waves that are sometimes peaceful and sometimes violent.

Rubicante, storm themed: he looked to the sky as something beautiful and wonder if humans and their airship will one day conquer it. His cloak is made of wind carrying away any magic