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just-jordie-things · 1 year

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you know you got me in your pocket - okkotsu yuuta

word count: 13k warnings: light swearing. reader has a cursed technique that has to do with healing but i don’t explain it bc i’m lazy. summary: the path from friends to lovers may take time but it is a simple, true love they share more info: ultimate friends to lovers fic this IS the template a/n: loosely based on this fanart i found on pinterest and also the song always forever by cults bcuz i love that song its so friends to lovers coded ___

[ you and me, always, forever ]

Unlike most cases of friends who harbor crushes for each other but never seemed to figure it out, (y/n) had taken a liking to Yuuta the day they met. She’d known right away that there was something about him that drew her to him like a magnet, something adorably mysterious, strangely alluring, and completely thrilling.

Seeing him on campus wasn’t a surprise. Gojo had told her about his recruitment, and upon giving her further detail she’d lovingly told him it was more of a kidnapping. He’d laughed. And since then nothing had really changed. She continued her studies with Shoko in the infirmary, only occasionally seeing the Six Eyes when he needed a new audience to bother, and in fact, she’d almost forgotten the news of a new student her age.

It’s not like there were many instances where she could be reminded. She didn’t see the other students at Jujutsu Tech often, since they spent their time training to be sorcerers, while her cursed technique was more equipped for the behind the scenes of jujutsu society.

So when she feels a heavy presence of cursed energy looming through the front gates, the hair on the back of her neck stands up, and she’s unusually drawn out of her studies to scan the area for the source of the prickle traveling down her spine.

If she didn’t know better, she might have just assumed it was just Gojo. But it only takes a split second for her to identify this as someone else entirely. She’s not sure if her shiver is due to fear or intrigue, but either way she just has to learn more, doesn’t she?

And so you could imagine her surprise when she finally catches the sight of the sorcerer carrying all of this cursed energy, dragging along the main path on his way to the main building. She can’t recall his name right away, but she assumes he’s the new kid that Gojo had told her about a week or so prior.

She’s far enough away that she doesn’t get a good look at him, but she can see enough from where she sits amongst the trees. He’s not at all what she had been expecting.

He didn’t look like the piece of shit egotistical douchebag that she had assumed he’d be when Gojo had told her about him.

And if she couldn’t feel the cursed energy radiating off of him even from this far away, she might’ve thought he was a non-sorcerer altogether.

His shoulders sagged like gravity was heavier on him than most people. He moved slowly. His sneakers scraped along the pavement. His hands were fiddling with each other anxiously, fingers catching and pulling and twisting over and over.

Perhaps she was letting her curiosity make her naive, but any fear she might have felt when he first entered the courtyard dissipated as she tracked his awkward movements towards the school. Awkward. It was the perfect way to describe her first impression of him.

He hadn’t seemed to notice her during her assessment of him. And this was proven when their paths did properly cross.

It had happened late one evening, shortly after Yuuta’s initial admittance to Jujutsu Tech. It only took one text from Shoko for her to be out of bed, in her uniform, and on her way to the infirmary. Apparently, Yuuta was also racing around campus, for whatever reason, and that’s how he (almost literally) ran into her.

“Oh!”

His greeting was just as awkward as her first impression of him. She can’t help but laugh a little bit. He’s clearly flustered, his eyes wide and his mouth not making any proper words, and the large knife in his hand looks severely out of place.

But he must see her look straight at it while he’s trying to figure out how to politely ask who the hell she was because he’s never seen her before- because suddenly he remembers how to speak.

“This isn’t mine!”

He doesn’t mean to shriek, but he feels like he should explain why he’s running around at night with a knife. It doesn’t dawn on him at all that she’s used to people casually carrying weapons around, and this little knife isn’t even close to being a concern for her.

Nonetheless, she goes along with it. She should be rushing to the infirmary, but something keeps her put before him.

“Oh?” She tries not to laugh as she takes in his heavy wince. “While I find your courage outstanding, I’m not sure this is the place you want to go stealing people’s knives,” She’s only teasing, but it does nothing to relieve the panic on his face. “You know, cause people around here don’t need knives to kill you,”

Yuuta swallows, and (y/n) finally gives him a break and shakes her head as she laughs to herself.

He expresses his anxiousness in small shuffles of his feet, and he tries to laugh along but the sound is strained and nervous. If she knew him better and understood him, she likes to think she’d tell him to lighten up, but that feels like a bold step, so she tries to ease his anxiety with more subtlety.

“You didn’t spook me with that knife,” She clarifies. “I’d be more scared of all that cursed energy you’ve got, if anything”

“O-oh”

“But I’m not,” She tells him, matter-of-factly.

He gives her a look like he’s not sure if he should believe her. With the way the other students had reacted when they first met, he’s surprised she doesn’t have him in a chokehold right now. Instead, she stands before him without a defensive stance, and she gives him a small smile.

“But… what are you doing out this late?” She can’t help but have curiosity about what he was doing there in the first place. “Aren’t you all going out on an assignment first thing in the morning?”

Normally, she didn’t listen much when Gojo rambled on about his teachings. However yesterday’s lessons with Shoko had been few and far between, so when her old friend stopped by for entertainment, she boredly listened along while he bragged about taking his class on a group outing. She supposed that little piece of information became useful for small talk now.

“Yeah, well,” Yuuta sighed, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously. “I was supposed to return this earlier, but I forgot, and now I…”

His words trail off, along with his eyes as he turns to stare at the floor out of embarrassment.

“I got lost”

“It’s Maki’s, isn’t it?” She asks knowingly, even though she’s not familiar with this knife.

Yuuta nods.

“I’ll show you the way” She says, gesturing for him to follow her, and walking off before he could really comprehend what she was offering. His sneakers squeak on the linoleum floor as he rushes after her a few seconds delayed.

He takes a minute or two before he finds the courage to say something.

“Thank you,” He settles, peeking over at her from the corner of his eye. “I’m Yuuta, by the way”

She turns to give him a beam as she replies, “I know,”

It has a lump forming in his throat, his chest filling with something warm and akin to bashfulness. He’d never seen her before, and he was certain he would have remembered if they’d met, especially since she was so pretty, but she appeared to be his age too, and he wondered why she hadn’t been around for any classes, or training sessions.

“I’m (y/n)” She introduces herself after a beat passes. Yuuta wants to say something more, but he doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t say anything at all.

He fidgets with the knife as he follows her through the corridors. It’s a large building, and the longer they walk, the more he’s grateful he hadn’t gotten more lost than he had. It takes a few minutes until she finally stops at a door, and slides it open. Yuuta recognized it as soon as it’s contents were revealed.

Every inch of the walls were filled with weapons. Racks with blades and staffs of all shapes and sizes, shelves of an assortment of more alternative weapons, he’d been in here when Gojo had given him a speedy tour on his first day. Although now that he’s not being rushed from room to room, his gaze travels around the small space, taking in every deadly tool here.

“You’ll get used to it” (y/n) speaks, and he’s drawn out of his reverie when she plucks the knife from his hands to put it back in it’s proper place.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to any of this” He mumbles back, eyes caught on a rather daunting gun propped up among other things.

Nunchucks and knives were one thing. He was pretty sure that was an AK-47. He’d only ever seen those in movies.

(y/n) chuckles softly, amused by how out of place he seemed. For a guy with more cursed energy than he knew what to do with, she found it interesting how juvenile he came across.

Not that it was a bad thing. It was sort of… refreshing, if she thought about it.

“You will,” She assured him kindly. “It’ll feel weird for a while, but, yaknow. Eventually everyone settles in, right?”

He tears his eyes away from the machine gun to see that she’s giving him a small smile, and he doesn’t know her very well, or at all, but he can tell that she’s being genuine.

“I guess”

He doesn’t know what else to say.

“Well, I have to get going to a lesson,” She explains, jerking her thumb back towards the door. “You good to get back to your dorm? I probably wouldn’t get in trouble if I explained I was just helping the new kid”

Yuuta nods, the movement awkward, and shaky.

“Yeah, I’m good, I think” He doesn’t sound so sure, but (y/n) assumes the best way for him to learn his way around is to get lost just a little.

“Alright, I’ll see ya around then,” She gives him a wave as she ducks out of the small armory. “Good luck with your assignment tomorrow!”

Her voice carries as she jogs through the corridors to quickly get to where Shoko was waiting, leaving Yuuta to linger, a bit dumbfounded and bewildered by the whole interaction.

He supposed he’d gotten her name, but he still had no clue who she was. He’d have to make a better effort to reach out next time their paths crossed. She was the first person here to give him a semi-warm welcome, after all.

When (y/n) arrived at the infirmary with a brighter-than-usual smile and the remnants of a blush on her cheeks, Shoko eyed her curiously, but didn’t outwardly call her out on the strange demeanor.

[ say you’ll stay, never be severed ]

The next time Yuuta does see (y/n), he’s sitting alone at a picnic table in the courtyard with only the company of his lunch bag. He sees her walking out of the building with a bag on her shoulder. She’s clearly on a mission, but he finds himself calling out to her and waving his hand anyways.

He assumes she’ll give him a polite nod and keep heading on her way, but she stops in her tracks to turn his way, waving back, before she’s actually walking over to him.

It’s embarrassing to admit, but Yuuta panics a bit. He had yet to form any solid enough friendships with the other students in his year, hence the lunching alone out here, and he had a worry that soon she would also see him as a loner and an outsider, and she’d avoid him too.

But as she approaches the wooden table, she gives him a smile so friendly he could never believe it was forced.

“Hey,” Even her voice sounds kind. “You eating alone?”

“Uh-” Yuuta glances around as if looking for an excuse, but the bento box in front of him and lack of any other person around is evidence enough. “Yeah” He replies sheepishly.

Here it comes, Yuuta braces himself, the beginning of her thinking he’s a loner. He shouldn’t have even held onto that scrap of hope when she’d walked this way, but here he was, holding his breath.

“Want company?”

His head turns back to her, assessing if she really meant it, and seeing that small smile still curled on her lips, he gives her a short nod.

“Yeah,” He answers. “Yeah, that’d be… nice”

Her small smile turns into a grin as she sits on the bench across from him, setting her bag on the table.

“How are you settling in?” She asks him kindly, and he gives a weak shrug of his shoulders.

“I guess… as well as I can,” He says honestly, and she nods back in understanding. He pushes past the urge to sit in silence where he knows he can’t say the wrong thing, and continue talking to her. She’s nice, he tells himself. She’s nice, and I want to make friends here. I want to be happy here. “I think everyone’s a little afraid of me, to be honest,” He admits. “Or they’re annoyed with how behind all of them that I am”

“Maki can be a little stand-offish,” (y/n) thinks aloud. “And Inumaki is hard to get to know at first. But he’s a really nice guy once you do get to know him. Just don’t be nervous when he’s silent. He’s a goofball,”

Yuuta takes her advice to heart, hoping that she could give him all the keys to friendship he’d been lacking. He nods earnestly.

“And so is Panda,” She continued. “But it’s been awhile since there’s been someone new around here. That doesn’t really happen for us”

“Really?” He asks, and she nods.

“Yeah. Most of these people have known each other since they were young. Or at least are aware of each other’s clan politics”

“I see” Yuuta mumbles, feeling yet again like an outsider. (y/n) can tell this information doesn’t sit well with him.

“I think it’s nice,” She says boldly, and truthfully. He stares at her like she just said something ridiculous. “When the only people you get to see every day are people you’ve known your whole life, it can be sorta lonely,” She admits with a small chuckle. “It’ll be nice to get to know someone new,”

She leans over the table a bit, setting her elbows down so she can rest her head in her hands.

“If that’s not too forward” She says with a bashful smile.

Yuuta blinks once, twice, before shaking his head with certainty.

“It’s not” He says, fast.

“Good,” (y/n’s) beam brightens. “Want to have lunch with me again tomorrow?”

He nods again, his nerves starting to melt away, letting him smile back at her.

“Will you be in class tomorrow?” He asks hopefully. Maybe now he’ll finally have someone he can sit with, even if he’s still too shy to strike up a conversation, at least he won’t feel so alone all the time.

“Oh,” (y/n’s) lips quickly fall to a frown. “I’m actually not one of Gojo’s students,” She tells him, and it makes her sad to see him deflate so fast. “I’m training in the infirmary, with Shoko. Have you met her?”

Yuuta shakes his head.

“I don’t think so”

“Well I’ll introduce you sometime,” She tells him. “But I don’t have a decent enough cursed technique to be a sorcerer, so I’m studying under her in order to go more into the… background things” She explains.

“I see,” Yuuta tries not to let his disappointment show, so as not to make her feel bad. He focuses instead on getting to know her better. “So you’re working in, like, the medical field then?”

(y/n) nods her head from side to side.

“Something like that,” She chuckles. “It’s mostly watching Shoko use her technique to heal injuries after rougher assignments. I don’t get to use mine too much, but I’m starting to learn how to heal myself, so that’s a start, I suppose”

“That’s cool!”

(y/n’s) eyes blink wide in surprise.

“You can heal yourself?”

“I mean, I healed a papercut once” She laughs bashfully. In comparison to Shoko’s reverse cursed technique, doing a shoddy job at patching up a small slice on her finger seemed like a joke. But Yuuta grins like he’s never heard anything more interesting.

“You’re lucky,” He tells her, and she raises a brow at him, wondering if this was all some elaborate prank where he’d wind up laughing in her face at how weak she was compared to everyone else, compared to him. “That’s a really useful ability. That’s not background at all. It’s helpful”

As she processes the kind words, (y/n) wonders if this is why she’d felt drawn to him when they met a few nights ago. Underneath the shy exterior Yuuta displayed was nothing but kindness, and warmth. She could feel it in her cheeks, and in her chest. Her heart even stuttered a little.

“I mean, I barely have a handle on it,” She admits. “I don’t think I’ve been all that helpful to anyone”

“But you’re learning, right?” Yuuta shrugs a shoulder in understanding. “I guess that’s sorta how I feel, too,” He realized, dropping his gaze to his forgotten lunch as he thought about it. “I just want to be…”

He trails off, but (y/n) waits with eager anticipation for him to continue his thought.

“Useful”

His voice is quiet, and his expression is unsure as he looks back up at her. Suddenly feeling like that was far too pathetic of a thing to say to someone that he’d like to become friends with. But before he can backtrack and supply a better word, like strong or courageous, she’s grinning.

Her face nearly splits in two as her beam stretches from ear to ear, all teeth and twinkling eyes to match. A small laugh escapes her before she starts to nod passionately.

“That’s exactly how it feels,” She agrees, filling him with relief so strong it’s visible in the way his shoulders relax. (y/n) notices, but doesn’t say anything. Something warm and fuzzy nestles in her chest, and she has a good feeling about this new friendship blossoming.

Truth was, (y/n) got along fine with the other students here, but they’d only cross paths on occasion and she couldn’t say that she was necessarily close to any of them, simply on good terms enough to catch up in brief passing with one another. The disconnect between her studies and the rest of the sorcerers-in-training around here was a trench of a gap, and if she was honest with herself, it could prove to be a little lonely.

Shoko was a great teacher, she was kind and involved, but she was still a teacher. Gojo was… about the same, with just a bit more peskiness to him when it came to involving himself. But it was all in good nature, he knew that she was a bit isolated here.

But then Yuuta came along. And even just this short interaction had her glowing with excitement at finally forming a connection with someone. He probably thought she was just being pleasant since he was the new kid and he’d been eating lunch alone, but it couldn’t be further from the truth. She had a genuine interest in him that had started innocently enough, but she had a feeling it would only blossom into something more.

“I think that we’re going to be-”

She’s about to voice this thought, about to tell him that she knows in her heart that they’ll make excellent friends, but her timing was just a tad too slow, and she was interrupted by her phone ringing.

With the intention of silencing it and ignoring the call for now, she gives him an apologetic look before pulling it out of her pocket, only to huff when she realizes it’s not a call she can just silence.

“Sorry,” She frowns. “It’s Shoko, I should take this, she’s probably got something for me back at the lab”

“It’s alright,” Yuuta smiles as he shakes his head in understanding. “I get it”

“Thanks,” (y/n) grabs her bag as she jumps up from the table, disappointed to cut their time short, but excited to see what Shoko would have in store for her today. Before she can race off, she pauses, one hand gripping the strap of her bag and the other occupied with the phone that’s still ringing. “Lunch tomorrow though, right?” She double checks.

The pink that dusts Yuuta’s cheeks is undeniable, and it makes a smile bloom on her face, too.

“Right” He says with a shy nod while he rubs his clammy hands over his knees.

“Alright,” (y/n) nods back, and she’d like to think she’s smooth, but she’s blushing just the same. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, Okkotsu”

She takes off before she can see his face turn from pink to red, his enthusiasm for having plans with a friend- a cute friend- shining in the heat of his cheeks.

He spends the rest of his lunch period trying to think of things to talk to her about tomorrow, questions to ask, stories to share. He racked his brain for fifteen minutes before going to class, where he then gets a little lost in space as he wonders about it some more.

[ you know you got me in your pocket, you don’t just have to wait around ]

When (y/n) feels that lingering fuzziness in her chest turn into something more, it was shortly after she’d spent the better half of an hour telling Shoko that her friendship with Okkotsu Yuuta was just that. Friendship.

“If you say so,” The woman shrugged a shoulder as she pulled the gloves off of her hands, getting ready to wrap up the day. “Just sayin’. You talk about him a lot”

(y/n) gave her a look, blindly tossing her own latex gloves into the trash.

“He’s my friend, I like talking about him,” She explains with nonchalance, even though her heart stuttered in her chest a little bit, as it did every time she mentioned him. “And I’m also a boring person. There’s not much to talk about”

“That’s not true, but whatever” Shoko brushes off the lame excuse, and (y/n) rejoices inwardly that the topic can be dropped before Yuuta actually shows up in a few minutes.

Like most days, they had plans to meet up for lunch, except today they’ll be spending it with the rest of the first years. After a couple of months, Yuuta finally felt like he belonged here, and had made decent friendships with his peers. This morning he had texted her to ask if it was alright if they joined them.

[yuuta] : panda offered us seats at the lunch table with inumaki and maki too. do you want to have lunch with them?

[yuuta] : ok if not!! just wanted to extend the invitation !!

It had made (y/n) smile when that second text popped up so quickly on her phone after she’d opened the first right away. She could practically see him back pedaling just in case she wasn’t comfortable with a larger group for lunch. Of course she was, she’d typed back an agreement with a little smiley face within a few seconds of reading the texts, but it was sweet that he’d stick to their usual plan of just the two of them.

Don’t get her wrong, (y/n) had grown to really cherish the time the two of them spent together. She got to know Yuuta very well during their lunch breaks, and during a few hangouts after lessons and training, too. She was happy to see how much he opened up once you got to know him, and she loved learning more about him every day. He was kind, and funny in that nervous sort of way, and he picked up on things quickly.

The couple of times (y/n) had spent her breaks from the infirmary on the bleachers to watch him train with the other first years, she’d seen a drastic change in his abilities with each session. It wasn’t often that she was able to slip away long enough to get all the way to the bleachers, watch for a bit while having a snack or catching up on some reading, and then get back to the infirmary before Shoko called her out on trying to ditch her lessons. Still, she was always impressed with how fast of a learner Yuuta was. Whether it was with cursed energy or with a bamboo staff to practice wielding a proper katana, he seemed to be comfortable with learning how to fight.

In fact the last time she’d watched him, he looked so natural she could have assumed he’d grown up in jujutsu society just like the rest of them.

When he does make an appearance at the infirmary, Shoko notices him outside the door first. With a smirk, she nods her head to get (y/n’s) attention.

“Your friend is here,” She says with a teasing lilt in her voice, despite her face remaining as stoic as usual.

(y/n) gives her a look before turning around to see him waiting politely outside. When their eyes catch, she gives him a smile and waves at him to come in.

“Picking you up for lunch, hm?” Shoko hums. “What a little gentleman”

(y/n) shoots her another look, this time as if to say be nice when Yuuta walks in. He’s still wearing his sheath, but the awkward smile and nervous fiddling of his hands makes a sword on his back look out of place. For some reason, (y/n) has always found his simple juxtapositions adorable.

Despite having met Shoko before, a few times, actually, Yuuta always gets anxious around her. It was probably her quietly peculiar aura, something (y/n) had grown used to after so much time spent with her, but in comparison to Yuuta’s teacher who’d never learned to revel in peaceful silence, it could be intimidating.

He gave her a small wave and nod in greeting. Shoko smirked back at him before turning to (y/n).

“You two get back before too long, alright? No funny business”

Yuuta visibly paled, his mouth opening to make an explanation that wasn’t coming to mind and left him standing there gaping. (y/n) rolled her eyes as she grabbed her bag, hoisting the strap over her shoulder as she waved Shoko off.

“Bye Shoko” She said with a half-playful glare, before grabbing Yuuta by the sleeve and dragging him right back out the door before he even got the chance to say hello.

It’s not until they’re out in the hall that he finds his voice.

He tugs at his collar to relieve some of the heat from his neck.

“How were lessons today?” He settles for the safe topic of conversation. Predictably, (y/n) lets out a small laugh. She always seemed amused when he was uncomfortable. He had yet to understand why.

“Good,” She’s kind to him today, not teasing him for his flustering. At least not beyond that little smirk that makes her eyes glint when she looks at him. “You?”

He nods his head from side to side.

“Maki kicked my ass,” He said sheepishly. “But I did get a hit today” He said in a quieter voice, but there was still a hint of pride in his voice. (y/n) beamed at him. She understood this was a meaningful accomplishment.

“That’s awesome!” She cheered for him. “You’ll knock her down next time for sure,”

He thinks she could be messing with him, but when he looks over at her, her beam is nothing but genuine. He laughs quietly, not as sure as she was, but appreciative of the sentiment nonetheless.

“Just make sure to invite me next time you spar,” (y/n) continues. “I want to be there for the big day”

Sometimes, she has a way of speaking that makes Yuuta wonder why she doesn’t really hang out with anyone but him. She wasn’t exactly a soft person, he supposed it was this line of work they shared, but there was something inherently friendly about her. He’d noticed it the first time they’d met, of course, and ever since he couldn’t ignore it if he tried. For whatever reason, she seemed not only to care about him, but she actually believed in him, too. More and more, Yuuta began to wonder why.

Inumaki, Panda, and Maki are already at a table with their lunches before them when Yuuta and (y/n) arrive. Panda notices them first, grinning and waving a paw for them to join.

“(y/n)! Long time no see!” His voice holds pure joy upon her arrival, “How’s the infirmary?”

“Oh, you know,” (y/n) smiles as she shrugs her shoulders. “Blood. Bones. Repeat. I can’t complain”

Panda and Toge are sitting on one side of the table, Maki on the other, and (y/n) happily sits beside her. Yuuta follows shortly.

“Yuuta told me next time, he’s going to knock your ass out,” She says boldly. Maki raises a brow, her chopsticks stilling over her dish. “You’ll let me come watch, yeah?”

Maki’s eyes shift to Yuuta, a glare behind them that has him straightening in his seat. Maki smirks at his discomfort, and when she turns back to (y/n), she grins ear to ear.

“I do love an audience,” She agrees, her smirk stretching into a grin at the idea. She looks back to Yuuta, who’s focused intently on his rice. “You two have been gettin’ real chummy, huh?”

(y/n) simpered at the comment. Yuuta tucked his chin against his collar in hopes that they wouldn’t notice the way his face bloomed with heat.

“Tuna, tuna” Inuamki giggles as his elbow bumps into Panda’s arm, and he too begins to chuckle as they watch the pair’s reactions to Maki’s simple observation.

“(y/n’s)- uh- she’s-”

“Yuuta’s a great friend” (y/n) speaks before Yuuta’s stammering can be laughed at any further.

“Must be, to make you finally come hang out with us” Panda says as he tries to quell his amused chuckling.

“Ikura” Toge mutters.

“Yeah,” Panda nods in agreement with the cursed speech user. “We didn’t think you liked us anymore”

Yuuta peeks over at (y/n) in his peripheral vision, but she plasters on a smile and shakes her head to disagree.

“Been busy” She says simply. There is no follow up, no explanation or excuse. She pops a grape into her mouth and leaves it at that.

Their lunch continues on as expected. Catching up, teasing, swapping food. Thirty minutes seem to pass faster than ever. And despite enjoying himself amongst his friends, Yuuta can’t help but hyperfixate on that small, odd interaction.

It appeared as though (y/n) and the other first years had gotten along just fine. Even mirroring old friends. But he couldn’t help but feel like something was off, that things hadn’t always been this way, that there was a rift he hadn’t been present for. He knows better than to question it straight away, so he matches energy and remains friendly the rest of the break.

But after telling his classmates he’ll meet up with them shortly, he lingers at the table while (y/n) packs up her things.

“That was nice” His voice feels stiff. He clears his throat.

(y/n) looks up at him as she pulls the strap of her bag over her shoulder, a soft smile curling on her lips.

“It was” She affirms.

Yuuta shifts his weight from foot to foot as he tries to find the right thing to say next. (y/n) watches this, and waits, patiently, for him to continue.

“I mean I… I like having lunch just… us,” He says, slowly, afraid of sounding too forward and insinuating something that could be off putting to her. “But I’m glad you wanted to hang out with…”

He struggled to find the right thing to say. (y/n) tilted her head at him curiously, before providing the words for him.

“Your friends?” She suggests with a small smile.

Yuuta blinks, color spreading over his cheeks before his smile mirrors hers, and then he nods.

“Yeah,” He concurred.

It must have been a rush of courage that compelled him to say what he did next, because as soon as he said it out loud, blood rushed up his neck and into his cheeks.

“You’re a great friend, too, by the way. I’m glad you were here. Or, well, are here”

She laughs, not because what he was was funny, but because she was overcome by delight by his words that she simply couldn’t contain it. Her fingers curl tightly around her bag, her heart flutters with something sickeningly sweet in her chest.

This was that something more. This wasn’t just silly eagerness towards a new friend. This much more. It was heavy. It filled her heart until it burst and flooded her body with warmth, traveling down her spine in ticklish sparks, and ending in the tips of her fingers and toes. It almost felt like cursed energy, the way it buzzed through her excitedly, on it’s own accord, but she knew better.

This was infatuation. She was infatuated with Yuuta. She had feelings for Yuuta.

“I’m glad you’re here, too, Yuuta,” She speaks with every genuine bone in her body, now reinforced with that tingling feeling that has her soft smile turning into a full blown grin. “Really glad” She repeats softly.

He should feel embarrassed because he knows he’s blushing and he’s having a hard time holding eye contact with her, but for some reason, he doesn’t feel embarrassed at all. Instead he smiles, bright and beautiful.

“I- I have to-”

“You have class,” (y/n) laughs bashfully, turning away in an attempt to calm her warm cheeks and dopey grin. “You should go before you’re late- I- I should go before I’m late” She stammers over her words, which is unlike her and more like him.

“Right, yeah,” He nods in a jerky motion as he starts to turn to leave, realizing he was going to have to run now if he wanted to make it on time. “But I’ll- I’ll see you after? Maybe? Or do you have plans already we can just wait till tomor-”

“After lessons works” (y/n) agrees.

“Okay- okay, yeah,” He’s still beaming, giddy with excitement now. “After lessons” He repeats.

(y/n) giggles as she begins to make her way back towards the infirmary, in the opposite direction as him. She gives him a small wave as she takes off, and Yuuta’s stunned in place for a moment before realizing that his tardiness was going to get him into trouble.

When (y/n) bursts through the infirmary doors with a string of excuses and pink cheeks, Shoko doesn’t say a word. Not that she has to, her face says it all.

Yuuta is not spared in the same way. When Gojo asks where he’s been, Panda is happy to supply what- or who- had kept him occupied. He was teased relentlessly for the following fifteen minutes, but it didn’t bother him too much. Sure, he was a little awkward at handling it and brushing off their assumptions. He just hoped his classmates wouldn’t meddle and tell her about it later.

[ just come here and we can settle down ]

If Yuuta ever underestimated anything in his life, it was Gojo Satoru’s joy in meddling.

It’s a few weeks after the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons. Jujutsu High is still under reconstruction, but it’s getting somewhere. The gardens are being replanted, the courtyard isn’t just a pile of rubbish anymore, and slowly but surely, everyone is healing.

Especially thanks to (y/n), who had mastered her cursed technique. Just in time too, as there were a lot of people that needed help.

Maki was finally recovering after pushing herself through physical therapy at a rate faster than (y/n) had ever seen in anyone before. She was more amazed than surprised. She would never underestimate that young woman’s abilities.

Toge was just starting to use his voice again, despite all of his friends telling him to just keep his mouth shut even if he was speaking in onigiri ingredients. His sore throat still made his words sound choked and raspy, but he communicated with his friends nonetheless.

There were many other sorcerers that had gotten hurt that night, but just as her friends had, they were recovering, physically and mentally, from that horrible night.

Today the sun was shining. It was still a chilly January day, but something about the clear skies drew (y/n) to linger on the steps of the main building. She studied them beneath her boots. Now that they were clear of snow, it looked as though a different color of stone was selected for their redesign. Not too different, it was still a light brown, almost like sand, but different enough that the longer she stared at them, the more she could pick out the other differences between these and the old ones.

“Ditching lessons?”

Her eyes drag slowly away from the stone steps to see Gojo Satoru scaling them towards her. His long legs had him next to her in a matter of seconds. Truthfully, Shoko had said she needed a longer smoke break than usual today- which was only unusual because ever since christmas, she’d been taking longer smoke breaks, she’d only just mentioned it today.

“Not really. Maybe” (y/n) replied indecisively.

“I’m still a teacher you know,” Gojo laughs at her honesty. “I could get you in trouble~”

The grin on his face tells her that there was absolutely no bite to his bark. He just liked to pretend to be an adult sometimes. (y/n) gives him a half hearted smile in amusement. His grin weakens at the way hers drops as soon as she stares down at the stairs again.

He already knows what’s on her mind. He was a better teacher than even he gave himself credit for.

“So he told you about Africa, huh?”

Her head shoots back up, brows furrowed in a sad expression as she frowns at him.

Yeah, he told me about Africa, she thinks, bitterly, even the thought making her mouth go sour. She gnaws at the inside of her cheek roughly.

“I know you’re close. I’m sorry that it’s happening,” Gojo sighs. He stuffs his hands into his pockets. “Kid’s got real potential. He might even be stronger than me,”

Just like his grin, his smirk speaks volumes. (y/n’s) not sure if he really believes that, but she can tell he believes in Yuuta.

“Special Grade Sorcerers aren’t what they used to be, huh?” He asks, and she’s not sure if it’s rhetorical, so she just shrugs her shoulders, and directs her gaze downwards again.

Her throat burns. Was that tears?

“It won’t just be Africa,” Gojo says, slowly, like he’s trying to be careful. She’s never known him to tread lightly. He must really worry about her feelings. She wonders why. “Once he’s mastered his techniques, the geezers are gonna throw him at every curse they can sniff out”

“I know”

Her voice is small, but it holds enough certainty for Gojo to understand that she doesn’t need to be told what Yuuta’s future has in store.

“So,” Gojo takes a different tone as he kicks the toe of his shoe into a step. “You’re not bothered that he’s a young widow, hm?”

(y/n’s) face contorts into something strange and confused as she looks at him again. She could almost laugh, if she wasn’t so disturbed by her teacher prying into her personal life. She could tell him to buzz off, but it’d make no difference. He’d probably just pester Shoko for the details and that would be even more embarrassing.

“I don’t even know what to-”

“He cares about you a lot too,” Gojo says before she can finish. (y/n’s) features relax as her eyes widen a little. He looks out into the courtyard as if something interesting was happening over there. “But Africa will be good for him. And he’ll be back soon enough. I’ll try ‘n pull some strings to have him visit, or something”

Her impulse to say something snarky and get him to move on from the topic disappears. Instead, she gives him a small nod, before tucking her cold fingers into the pockets of her coat.

“That would be nice,” She tells him, quietly, but surely. “Thank you”

Gojo grins from ear to ear as he turns back to his. She has a feeling that under the white bandages, he’s winking dramatically.

He leaves without another word, leaving (y/n) a little bewildered by the sudden exit. But then she sees another figure ascending the steps, and suddenly the cold isn’t the only thing making her cheeks pink.

Yuuta gives her the same smile he always does when he crosses her path. Whether in passing or when he’s meeting up with her to hang out, his lips curl into the warmest smile she’s ever seen. Even as clouds creep across the sky and snow begins to fall, she starts to feel toasty in her hat and coat.

She lies and tells him she has a few minutes to spare even though she’s been gone from the infirmary for a good twenty minutes now. As they take a short walk around campus, her mood lightens up.

They don’t talk about Africa. Only good things. A funny meme she’d seen, how Toge will be by the infirmary later because he refuses to keep his mouth shut to heal properly. Maybe that wasn’t so much of a good thing, but Yuuta is laughing as he tells her about the pile of bloodied tissues accumulated at Toge’s desk. Despite the twinge of guilt for laughing at their friend’s discomfort, she can’t help it. Yuuta’s happiness is infectious.

This must be what swooning feels like, she thinks as she stares up at him while he tells her about his day. It’s a silly story, maybe even kind of boring, but she hangs onto every word with eager anticipation at what he would share next. He could read her the goddamn newspaper and she’d sit there with her head in her hands and give him her undivided attention. Yeah, this is probably swooning.

“When do you have to be back?” Yuuta cuts off his rambling about training when he realizes they’ve been walking for some time now.

“Oh,” (y/n) shrugs sheepishly. “Probably ten minutes ago”

His eyes widen and he stops in his tracks, and before he even speaks she knows he’s about to apologize for taking up her time, so with a small laugh she shakes her head at him before he says a thing.

“Don’t worry about it,” She says, urging him to keep walking with her. “Shoko needed some extra time today. I don’t mind if I’m a little late”

“You’re sure?” He double checks, because he doesn’t like being responsible for getting her behind schedule. Nonetheless, he catches up to her as she keeps walking along the path.

Little does he know, if he asked her to ditch the rest of the day with him, she would take him by the hand and sprint off campus.

“Positive” (y/n) replies.

They continue to walk in the snow and talk about anything but Africa. An unspoken agreement that it could wait.

[ oh darling, it’s alarming, to think of us apart ]

Eventually, they have to talk about Africa.

It comes up the morning Yuuta leaves.

It’s early enough in the morning that it’s still dark. Panda had helped him load his bags into Ijichi’s car, before giving him a quick goodbye so he could go back to bed. Maki and Toge lingered a little longer, even in their pajamas. But at some point Maki cursed about how early it was, gave her new friend a friendly- but not light- punch to the shoulder, and returned inside.

Toge and (y/n) were equally quiet, although for their different reasons. Eventually Yuuta couldn’t fill the silence anymore, and they were out of time to stall.

To his surprise, Toge gave him a quick hug. Just enough to give him a kind pat on the back and an eager ‘salmon!’ certainly wishing him luck on his big assignment. Yuuta thanked him with a grin, proud to understand what he really meant.

Then he turned to (y/n), who’d barely moved an inch since sleepily walking out here. He’d insisted to everyone last night that they could say their goodbyes then, but she’d stood her ground that she’d see him off today. The others agreed.

Her arms were wrapped firmly around herself, and the smile on her face was sad when his eyes met hers. Even when she tried to brighten up, to properly display her pride in him, she just couldn’t quite do it.

Toge watched as they stared at each other for a moment, neither one of them finding anything to say. For a minute he thought it might be awkward, and he figured he should probably leave now.

It only took Yuuta one step forward, his arms barely outstretched, before (y/n’s) finding the energy to leap towards him, crashing into him. Her arms are thrown around his neck as she hugs him tightly. As she tucks her chin against his shoulder she’s willing herself not to cry, because she knows it would make him feel bad, and that wouldn’t be fair. Yuuta’s surprise has him hesitating for a second before he’s hugging her back, hoping to hold on just as securely as she’d latched onto him.

“Text a lot,” When she’s certain her voice won’t crack, (y/n) finally speaks. “And call, too”

Yuuta chuckles. His eyes close as he rests his cheek against her head. She’s never hugged him before, but he’s decided from this one that she’s the best hugger in the world.

“The time difference is-”

“I don’t care” She mutters, and it’s punctuated with her arms squeezing around him a little tighter.

He returns the affection.

“Okay” He murmurs.

When they have to part, she lets out a shaky breath, and plasters on the widest smile she can. She hopes he can see the tears in her eyes. He does.

He gives her and Toge a wave before finally opening the door to the backseat. He doesn’t say goodbye. Instead he settles for, “See you later”

(y/n) manages a little wave back. It’s not until the car pulls away and is out of sight before a tear falls. She’s quick to wipe it away.

Her and the cursed speech user walk back towards the main building together. He gives her a sympathetic look. She gives him a weak smile.

“Yeah, I know,” She sighs, drying her eyes once more and taking a deep breath in the hopes of not crying again.

He smiles back, but unlike hers, it’s bright, and cheeky. He draws a heart in the air with his fingers. She wants to roll her eyes, but she lets out a watery laugh at the action, and she knows her face is heating up with evidence of the truth.

“Something like that” She mumbles. They don’t say anything else before parting ways to go back to their rooms.

By the time she collapses back in bed, she’s too awake to think about sleeping a little longer before her lesson with Shoko. Pulling out her phone for a source of entertainment, she finds she already has a notification at this ungodly hour.

[yuuta] : try not to miss me too much :) i’ll be back before you know it

Tucking the blankets up to her chin, (y/n) settles into bed with a small smile. Yuuta wasn’t often cheeky. And when he was, it was always followed by a nervous laugh and bright pink cheeks. Behind the shield of his phone he clearly has a leap in confidence. She even laughs a little as she types back her response.

[ you and me, always, forever ]

Yuuta had some mixed feelings about going to Africa.

On the one hand, he was ecstatic. He had finally climbed the ranks in this new life that he thinks could make everything make sense. He felt a new sense of responsibility along with his new sense of self, and he knows that this debut of his in Africa was the next big step forwards. He’d prove himself, he’d push himself, and he’d come home stronger than before. He’d make his friends, and his teachers, proud of taking a chance on him.

On the other hand, his new purpose, this new sense of self that he was still discovering, felt so much more worth exploring when she was there too. Yuuta wasn’t as naive as some may make him out to be. He knew what love felt like. He recognized that the ticklish feeling in his chest when she laughed, he was familiar with the buzz in his fingertips when she walked too close and her hand brushed over his. He knows when he’s lying awake at night and she’s the one who crosses his mind that it’s no coincidence.

Yuuta knows that his heart holds much more than platonic regards for one (y/n) (y/l/n). He knows that he adores her. He knows that his heart longs for her in a way that couldn’t possibly be platonic. The fact that they’ll have to be apart for some time makes him sad. It makes him lonely.

Even now, after seeing her twenty minutes ago when they said their goodbyes, he already missed her. He couldn’t help but text her right away, the desperation for keeping in contact pumping through him like ice, making him feel wide awake even at five in the morning. The thought of losing touch over the next few months of him being away makes him sweat.

He’d have to make sure to keep in touch, he makes a mental plan to always text her first thing in the morning, and last thing before he goes to sleep. That way, even if he got busy throughout his day, he’d always have the time for her. He wanted her to know that he’d always make the time for her.

Yuuta’s heart is racing, the adrenaline a toxic mix of excitement and anxiety. Had he eaten a proper meal this morning he might’ve thrown up.

Just as he’s contemplating rolling down the window for some fresh air, his phone pings.

[(y/n/n)]: i take it you miss me already, yuuta?

It’s a silly little emoji, but he swears she’s sent him her heart in digital form and it leaps right from the screen and into his open palms. He's smiling at the screen and responding with a reaction image he’d snagged from Toge just a few days ago.

[ you and me, always, forever ]

Gojo follows through on his promise. Yuuta comes back to Jujutsu Tech for a small break after two months in Africa.

He gets to campus earlier than expected, surprising his classmates in the middle of a lesson. Luckily today the lesson was rating the different flavors of kikufuku from a new shop Gojo had found, so he hadn’t interrupted anything too pressing.

It’s shortly after his early arrival that he asks the question that his friends think they should have placed money on him asking. Maki mutters something to Toge about how she would’ve won had they done so.

“Where’s (y/n)?”

While he stares at them with a dumbfounded expression, his friends laugh. Loud cackling that’s intended to make him feel embarrassed, but he’s more confused than anything. Even Gojo joins in once he’s not distracted by his leftover treats and Panda merrily tells their teacher that Yuuta’s already sick of them.

“That’s not it!” The poor boy puts his hands up in mock defense as he jumps to explain himself. “I just want to tell her I’m back-”

“She’s in the infirmary, genius” Maki crosses her arms, but her displeased attitude crumbles when a smirk tugs on her lips. Yuuta forces a smile, but it’s awkward. His nervous energy begins to shine through his excitement about returning home.

It’s not long after this that he’s delivering a string of excuses before darting out of the classroom and running to the infirmary. Was it a little embarrassing to race towards her like this? Yeah, but there was barely anyone on campus right now anyways, so no one had to know just how eager he was to see her again.

Even though every bone in his body was practically vibrating by the time he made it there.

He peers through the small windows on the heavy doors outside the hospital classroom, making sure it was safe to enter before he barged in. As soon as he looks inside he sees Shoko leaning against the cabinets. (y/n) was standing in front of her, her back to the door, but she was easily recognizable to him. Before he can knock to make himself known, Shoko catches him in her line of sight, and gives him an uncharacteristically wide grin.

In fact it’s so unusual on her face, that (y/n) perks up in the midst of whatever conversation they were having, curious to see what could've caught her interest so much.

Okkotsu Yuuta was not at all what she might have expected.

He gets to watch her light up in real time. He hears her excitedly squealing from the other side of the door. And somehow, even though it’s been a whole two months since he’s seen her, the ten seconds it takes for her to fly through the doors and into his arms seems to take too long.

She crashes into him so hard he stumbles to balance his footing. She’s laughing and bouncing and rambling on, ‘I’m so happy you’re here! You’re early! I would’ve helped you with your things! Have you settled in? Have you eaten? Should we go get some food? I’ll order food! And we can stay in!’ She’s talking so fast that he catches about half of what she’s saying. He only chuckles, not having the heart to tell her he can barely understand her.

Her arms squeeze tight around his neck before she finally lets him go. With twinkling eyes and a smile so wide it must be sore on her cheeks, Yuuta’s slowly melting heart completely dissolves.

“Your hair’s different” She tilts her head at him while she admires the way his slightly longer hair is styled around his face. She lets her curiosity get the best of her, reaching a hand out to gently push a strand away from his forehead.

Yuuta hadn’t really given any thought to his hair. He can’t remember when exactly it had gotten too long, when he’d parted it differently so it wasn’t a hindrance, but now he’s second guessing the change in style as if that change had been a conscious choice.

“Bad different?”

There’s a small giggle in the back of her throat that she can’t help when his brows furrow at her. He’s so cute, she thinks her heart could melt right here.

She shakes her head at him in a small motion.

“No,” She assured him. “Good different”

A small smile tugs at the corners of his lips, a proud little smile, like he’d gotten her to admit her deepest, most well kept secret.

“Good different?” He repeats, his voice dripping with mirth.

She rolls her eyes and crinkles her nose, but there’s no hiding the warmth in her cheeks and the way her dimples show when she smiles, even when she ducks her head from him.

“Shut up, Yuuta,” She pushes his shoulder but just as quickly grabs him by the elbow. “Now come on! The day’s almost over already and we have so much we need to catch up on!”

She forgets her bag in the infirmary as they wander campus together for a while, making pitstops to get him unpacked for his short visit and to snack up before they make their simple plans for the evening. Conversation never ceases, even when she’s trying to place a takeout order over the phone, she finds herself remembering various little stories and jokes that she’d tucked away in her memory to share with him.

There’s been a change in him. It wasn’t just the training that treated him well with lean muscle, it wasn’t just the haircut, or the way he’d learned to wield his katana like it was an extension of him. It was confidence. It was happiness. He didn’t stutter over his words nearly as often. When he spoke he was sure of the things he said. He would still blush when she got close enough or whispered something exceptionally sweet to him, but he was better at holding eye contact, and grew quite comfortable with reciprocating the small affections. Maybe that was just it, he was finally comfortable here, and with himself.

Time flies faster than it had when they were apart. The afternoon turns to evening which turns to the middle of the night. They’re still sitting on the common room couch, side by side, lost in their own little world as a forgotten movie plays in the background. Some of it had been watched when they’d eaten, but the takeout boxes on the coffee table are empty now. Yuuta’s yawning and (y/n’s) eyelids are heavy as she tries to keep her attention on him while he tells a story, his voice getting lower and his words coming out slower the later it gets. It’s not until he’s slumping into the uncomfortable cushions of the old couch that they even think to check the time.

When they do decide they’ve been up for too long, they make their way sneakily back to their rooms, hoping to remain as silent as possible. But anyone who was up at this hour would hear their hushed laughter and aggressive shushing. Yuuta bids her goodnight with the promise of taking everyone out for breakfast in the morning, but before he drops her off at her door, they share one more embrace.

She means to keep it quick, she really does. She knows he’s tired, and maybe a little annoyed with all of the affection today, but she was so happy to have him back that she couldn’t help but want to keep him close forever.

Yuuta doesn’t seem annoyed in the slightest. He hugs her back tightly, and makes no move to let her go anytime soon, so she doesn’t, either. They stand that way at her door for an unknown amount of time, each waiting for the other to pull away first.

It takes some time, but eventually she shuffles out of his hold and gives him a bashful little smile followed by, “I’m really glad you’re home, Yuuta”

The tension lays itself on thick, making sure to smother Yuuta until the back of his neck feels hot and his heart beats so hard in his chest he’s certain she’s going to notice and tease him for it.

“Me too” He manages to murmur back.

He’s lucky he’s able to return her sweet ‘goodnight!’ too, because his throat is tightening on itself and he thinks he could start choking just standing there.

When he drags himself back to his own room and his heart calms down- just a little bit- Yuuta decides he’s going to have to do something about that tension before it kills him.

[ you and me, always, forever ]

“This is getting ridiculous,” Maki declares before kicking open the classroom door. Her two friends follow in behind her. “It’s actually going to make me sick. I think we should just say something already”

“Don’t kick doors down Maki” Panda sighs, but his warning goes ignored.

“Salmon,” Toge shrugs his shoulders, raising his hands to be palms up, as though indicating what else is there to do?

“Well for starters, we get the idiots to talk to each other,” Maki states, picking up the notebook off her usual desk.

It was the whole reason they came back to class so late in the day, seeing as this particular notebook had the notes from their lesson earlier. It was important she made the trip back for it before they started their study session. She did take the better notes of the three of them.

“Apparently all their time together isn’t getting anywhere,” She huffs. “I swear, all he does is talk about her. He’s bound to have something good enough to confess already, right?”

Toge giggles into his collar.

“Ease up a bit, they’ll come around to it when they’re ready, won’t they?” Panda tries to be the voice of reason.

There’s a pause for silence. And then Toge and Maki are cackling so hard they have to hold their stomachs to relieve the twisting knots of their muscles.

“It’s been months!” Maki hollers through her mania.

“Salmon!”

“I mean, how much more of this can you guys take?” She doesn’t give them the time to answer her question. “I can’t stand listening to him ramble on and on about her. Did you know the one phone call I got, he talked about her the whole time?”

“You’ve mentioned” Panda mumbles, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head.

“Tuna tuna” Toge agreed, before making a crude motion with his hands that had Maki bursting into laughter again.

Maki rolls her eyes, before grabbing her missing notebook from her desk and stuffing it into her backpack. She’d been holding back on intervening on these two for months now. At first, she didn’t care enough. If (y/n) and Yuuta wanted to dance around each other like children with crushes then that was their business. But now the romantic tension was so thick it choked her up to be in a room with them. The lingering stares, the flirty giggles, the blushing- gah- she couldn’t stand it.

Don’t get her wrong, she didn’t hate love, and she didn’t hate either of them for being in love. She hated wimps. And these two were being the wimpiest people she’s ever seen for not fessing up already.

Also, wasn’t she just being a good friend for getting two dumbasses in love to admit they’re in love with each other? She did want them to be together after all, they were good for each other.

“I think it’s sweet that he loves her so much!” Panda argues. “I don’t mind listening to it. (y/n’s) really nice. They deserve each other”

“Oh, yeah, they deserve each other,” Maki agrees but her tone drips with something hostile. “No shit, do you not see how much she stares at him?”

Toge’s snickering gets louder. It wasn’t often there was gossip among the small group, there wasn’t exactly time for it. But this was rather entertaining, and watching two of his friends trip over themselves with how hard they’d been crushing on each other had been the cherry on top.

“Well, yeah,” Panda finally lets out a small laugh. “Actually, the other day I was talking to her, and I don’t think she heard a word I said,” He chuckles as he recalls the way her eyes glazed over and a dopey little smile took over her face. “I don’t know how he hasn’t noticed it”

“Salmon” Toge scoffs.

“Yeah, he’s more oblivious than she is” Maki agrees.

“But I don’t think we should do anything about it” Panda tries to reason.

“They’re never going to make a move if we don’t say something,” Maki huffs. “Can’t they just get it over with already? How hard is a confession anyways?”

“Like you’ve ever confessed to anyone” Panda throws back at her with a proud grin.

Toge makes a sound of delight to see the gossiping turning into something much more interesting.

Maki glares at the both of them before snarling.

“That’s it!” She declares, throwing her bag over her shoulder. “I’m going to go tell them right now. Whoever I find first is going to hear great news today!”

“Maki don’t!” Panda hollers, marching after her out the door. “It’s not our place! That’s an invasion of privacy!”

Toge’s enthusiastic babbling of rice ball ingredients follows them out into the hall, eager to see where this was going to go.

The classroom door slides shut behind him, and the sounds of their heavy, quick footsteps drones on until they’re too far to be heard. It’s not until the room is completely silent that a small exhale of relief is heard, under the large desk that Gojo pretended to use during his lessons.

“I think we’re in the clear” Yuuta whispers, once he’s absolutely certain that no one is left in the room.

He drops his hand from over (y/n’s) mouth, where she’s been gnawing on her bottom lip for the last six minutes in fear that their classmates were going to notice them hiding under there.

“Really?” She asks in a teasing tone of voice. “Because it sounds like they’re looking for us”

Yuuta huffs in defeat, a look on his face that completely contrasts her own. (y/n’s) brightened, grinning from ear to ear and giggling under her breath.

They’re squished into the small space so when she giggles he can feel her breath fanning over his neck, and even though he wants to grab her by the shoulders and make her come back to reality- which is that their friends are on a rampage right now to get them to confess to each other, something they’d just done minutes before they’d stormed into this very classroom- but he can’t. He takes one look at her, with her starry eyes and cute smile and he accepts whatever fate has in store for him.

(y/n) had surprised him here, happily announcing she wrapped up her lessons early so that they could spend the afternoon together. He only had a few days left until he’d be shipped off to Africa again, so she’d worked diligently today to be sure she could give him every spare minute of her free time. Somehow they’d wound up in the classroom alone.

One minute Yuuta’s going on about how excited he was to hang out with her and the next thing he knows he’s accidentally letting it slip that he’d like to have her all to himself all the time. He realized instantly that he’d said something a little too romantically charged because suddenly she’s staring up at him with those damn wide eyes and a smile full of secrets.

He must’ve said something right though, because one thing led to another and she had an iron grip on his collar while her strawberry gloss smeared all over his mouth.

(y/n) smirks now as she reaches her thumb up to his lips now, wiping away a subtle speck of pink glitter that had been left behind there. Her face heats up as she recalls how carried away she’d gotten just minutes ago. Until their friends showed up and nearly caught them in the act.

Had Maki kicked down that door just a minute earlier, they surely would’ve been caught in their scrambling. More specifically, they would’ve caught the awkward way Yuuta had lifted (y/n) off the desk he’d just set her on, only to hustle them both under the desk, the only half-decent hiding place in this whole room.

“You’re kidding,” She’d mumbled when he drew his knees to his chest and beckoned her to duck under with him. She crowds into the space, but not without scolding him. “They’re definitely going to-” He covers her mouth with his large palm, effectively quieting her, just as the door slams open.

Now she knows they should be scrambling out of here, before they were eventually caught- again- but she stays put in the tiny space where their legs are sore and cramped together.

“So you talk about me to all your friends, hm?” She muses, leaning in impossibly closer to give him her best shit eating grin. It easily has Yuuta blushing from his neck to his ears as he turns his head to relieve himself from the heavy eye contact.

“Yeah yeah,” He mumbles, tugging at his collar in an attempt to soothe the heat. Just as the embarrassment settles in, he whips his head back to meet her stare with a wild look in his eye that actually catches her off guard. “But you’ve been staring at me!” He says.

She opens her mouth to defend herself, but the proof had been hollering in this very room just moments ago during Maki’s fit. Panda had happily supplied the damn evidence.

So she shuts her mouth, and now Yuuta’s beaming at her with victorious pride.

“So it’s true!?” He asks excitedly.

“You already know that, jerk,” She rolls her eyes at him, but it’s filled with affection. “You’re the one who’s in love with me!” She says with a jab to his chest.

Yuuta catches her hand with his before she can pull it away, making her pleased little grin fall to something softer. He’s able to watch in real time as her eyelashes flutter when her glance darts down to his lips, and when she looks up at him again, it’s with color in her cheeks and a sweetness in her gaze that has him turning to putty.

What was meant to be a half-hearted jest based on something Panda had said that she wasn’t exactly meant to hear now hangs in the air between them so heavy it feels like gravity grows in strength. Her heart is pounding in her chest. Her hand feels hot in his. And now she sits with baited breath and wide eyes as she waits for him to say something.

Yuuta’s smiling, his free hand coming up to the nape of her neck, sweeping her hair away before pulling her closer. She tilts her head towards him, but he stops just before their lips could graze over one another.

“You love me too?” He whispers.

He phrases it like a question, but he already knows it to be true. He just wants to hear her say it.

Her lips quirk into a sweet smile as her eyes flicker between his, lashes heavy, pupils blown wide in her irises. She’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, and the thought of getting to love her and be loved by her has his heart racing so fast he’s almost forgetting that he’s asked her a question because all he wants is to kiss her.

“Of course I do,” She murmurs, her soft lips ghosting over his, eager to feel them against hers again. “Think I’ve always loved you, Yuuta,” She adds in a quieter voice. A carefully protected deep adoration in her heart, now bestowed upon his. “Think it’s always been you and me” She hums softly, taken away by the warmth in her chest and the butterflies in her tummy.

She could sit here and whisper sweet things to him for hours, maybe even forever.

His thumb strokes under her jaw in a gentle motion, caressing the junction at her jawline and neck. He looks radiant, smiling down at her like nothing’s ever made him so happy. This spurs her into wanting to say more sweet things, but before she gets the chance, he’s slanting his lips over hers.

She melts into him in every sense of the word. Her free hand reaches for his shoulder, before sliding around his neck so she could lean into him further. The small space they’re still hiding in only shrinks as she tries to get closer to him. Both pairs of their legs are too long to keep bent under the desk, so she sticks one leg out, accidentally kicking the chair in front of them but she pays it no mind. She just focuses on getting closer to him, hooking her other leg underneath herself to give her better leverage and a tiny bit more space to scoot closer.

Her hands are on his collar again as soon as he grabs her by the hips. He gives them a gentle squeeze and she giggles softly into his mouth, breaking their kiss for only a moment. They share wide smiles and lovesick eyes before leaning into each other again and sealing their lips in a heated and much more passionate kiss.

They don’t think at all about the noise of the chair clattering across the floor or the distinct sound of their giggling as they get swept away with one another. In fact they completely forget that they’re only in this position because they’d been trying to keep hidden. Both too consumed with memorizing the feeling of each other’s lips.

It’s a sweet moment, really, the first time young lovers get to explore the way the other kisses. Gently, with timid, inexperienced brushes. Or hungrily, with eager, heated desire. Taking their time was a luxury they’d thought they could finally afford.

But this time when the door opens it’s with stealth. It slides in silence, and the steps that creep in are also with slow precision, so as not to make even a creak in the floorboards.

All that can be seen by the three intruders are the three legs jutting out from under the desk. A familiar pair of Converse and one familiar Mary Jane with a heart shaped buckle kicking gently about on the floorboards, rocking with delight.

The hushed sound of lips smacking only ceased when there was a giggle, one of them or both of them, murmuring between kisses and giggles like a pair of school children.

There’s a few things that are audible, murmurs of ‘I love you so much’ or ‘you’re so pretty’ repeated between them like mantras. This continues for a minute until one of the three takes a heavier step than he means to with his paw, and the room goes completely silent- save for the lewd ‘smack!’ of a pair of lips seizing upon hearing the tell-tale sign of a lurker.

Maki and Toge glare back at Panda, who sheepishly grins and shrugs his shoulders.

(y/n) and Yuuta stare at each other in horrified shock. They don’t get the chance to come up with a plan of attack before someone is on top of the desk with a squeak of sneakers. And then Toge is bending over the surface, staring wide eyes at the two in a rather compromising position- (y/n’s) leg is thrown over Yuuta’s lap and being kept there by a firm hand, her hands are still balled up in his unbuttoned collar, their lips are thoroughly swollen she’s effectively transferred most of her lip gloss onto his mouth, and chin and neck- there’s nothing innocent about them. Toge stares between them both before he lets out a whistle, giggling as he hops off the desk again.

Yuuta winces as he quickly releases his grip on (y/n’s) leg so they can both scramble out from under the desk and up to their feet. It’s ungraceful, uncoordinated as they awkwardly untangle to clamber upwards. Yuuta hits his head on the hard oak loud enough that they both wince, (y/n) quickly inspecting the instant bump that forms at the occiput of his skull.

“No way!” Maki breaks the tension first, her jaw hanging open as she grins in amusement at having caught the two of them here. “You were hiding out in here the whole time!?”

“Tuna!” Toge shoves his finger in their direction in accusation.

“Kissing!” Panda gasps, his paws over his face.

“Why didn’t you just say something,” Maki huffed. “Walked around for ten minutes for no reason. Waste of my time” She grumbles as she crosses her arms.

“Uh, sorry” (y/n) said sheepishly.

“Yeah, sorry,” Yuuta pipes up. “It was just… uh… awkward”

“You’re awkward!” Maki barks back with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Jeez, glad you got it over with finally” She bids them her blessing with rough words before spinning around and leaving the room without saying anything else.

Panda gives them a bright smile and nod of his head, his own friendly way of telling them he was happy for them.

“Hope you’re happy” He tells them out of the kindness of his soul before excusing himself as well.

“Salmon!” Toge agrees with a grin and friendly wave before also leaving.

All the lurking around they’d done, only to give them space as soon as they caught what they needed to.

The remaining pair turned to each other, gaping mouths turning into shy smiles as they slowly burst into laughter together. What was supposed to be a slow introduction of new feelings to explore had now been on display to pretty much everyone they knew. Shyness began to wash away as there was no more use for it. Yuuta reaches for his hand and (y/n’s) fingers intertwined with his as though they’d familiarized themselves there before. She smiles as he uses her hand to pull her closer to him, until the toes of her shoes barely bump into his.

They don’t say anything, they don’t need to. (y/n) knows what he means when he cradles her face in his palm and smiles down at her. He knows what she means when her nose crinkles and her free hand reaches to hold onto his collar once more. Their ‘i love yous’ had almost always been silent, and they would forever understand it in its unspoken form.

this is for @staygoldsquatchling02 for being excited about my rotting brain full of yuuta fluff a/n: y’all i got soo carried away with this-

xoxo ~ jordie

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reidmarieprentiss · 1 month

Text

Wasteland, Baby!

Summary: We learn a little about reader's past, Spencer tries (and succeeds) to get back in her good graces. Happy ending!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: angst, fluff

Warnings/Includes: bad past relationships, past cheating, pregnancy (not reader), getting broken up with, divorced parents, past hooking up with strangers, alcohol consumption, mentions of being drunk, mild depression, time jumps, penelope garcia being the best person alive, derek morgan saving the day

Word count: 10.3k

a/n: final installment of Too Sweet!! i know they're a mess but i love these twooo might give them some blurbs in the future <33 thank you so much to everyone reading! your comments and interactions seriously motivate me to write sooo much faster and make my heart burst!!

main masterlist

part one part two

Flashback…

You sat there, the rim of your glass resting against your lips as you drained the last of your drink. The burn of the alcohol was distant, almost nonexistent—just like everything else these days. The numbness had long since taken over, seeping into every part of your life, leaving you cold and detached. You chased sensations, tried to force yourself to feel something, anything, but nothing worked. Not the new piercings that adorned your skin, not the tattoo etched into your flesh, not even the alcohol that should have brought warmth, or the rage rooms where you shattered objects in a futile attempt to break through the void.

Work had once been your refuge, a security blanket that made you feel capable and strong. Military intelligence had given you purpose, a clear path forward. But now even that had become a nightmare, as Jackson had managed to ruin yet another thing you loved. The betrayal cut deep, but even that pain had dulled, leaving only a hollow ache in its place.

“Y/N… you should go home,” the bartender, Drew, said with a shake of their head. They had seen you here night after night, watching as you spiraled deeper into whatever darkness had taken hold of you.

“I don’t have a home anymore,” you slurred, the words bitter on your tongue. The thought of the apartment you had shared with Jackson twisted like a knife in your gut. He was there right now, with his fiance—your replacement. All your things were still there while you slept in a cheap motel that barely felt real. He got the apartment, the girl, the job, and all you got was a long bar tab.

Drew’s expression softened with pity, but before they could say anything, a deep, smooth voice cut through the haze.

“Hey, beautiful, you can come home with me,” the stranger called out, his tone dripping with confidence. His voice was like honey, dark and rich, promising the kind of escape you craved.

You looked up, eyes narrowing as you focused on him—tall, broad shoulders, a chiseled jawline, and eyes that gleamed with something dangerous, something alluring. He was exactly what you needed: a distraction, a thrill, something to make you forget for just a little while.

And thus began the one thing that finally brought feeling back into your world.

You pushed the glass aside and slid off the barstool, unsteady but determined. The stranger’s smirk grew as you approached him, his hand reaching out to guide you out of the bar. The warmth of his touch was electric, a spark in the darkness that reminded you that you were still alive, still capable of feeling—if only for tonight.

You didn’t know his name, and you didn’t care. All that mattered was the fire he ignited within you, the way his presence chased away the numbness that had plagued you for so long. It was reckless, it was dangerous, but it was exactly what you needed. The emptiness was too much to bear, and if he could fill it, even for just a moment, you were willing to take that chance.

As you left the bar, wrapped in the stranger’s arm, the world blurred around you. For the first time in what felt like forever, you weren’t consumed by the void. The thrill, the anticipation—it was enough to make you feel alive again, even if it was fleeting.

—

Present

The team was gathered around the round table, JJ had just finished briefing everyone, her voice steady as she laid out the grim details. As the discussion continued, Emily’s brow furrowed as she reviewed the case file in front of her, something sparking a memory.

“This reminds me of the Atlanta case… Hotch, do you know what department Y/N is in? I want to ask her a question about that case file,” Emily said, her eyes still scanning the paperwork.

Hotch’s expression remained neutral as he answered. “She’s not here right now. You can get the file from the archives if you need.”

Penelope immediately picked up on the shift in tone. Her concern was evident as she asked, “Where is she?”

Hotch didn’t hesitate, his response professional and matter-of-fact. “I wasn’t made aware of the specifics. She’s on a leave of absence.”

Emily looked up, her curiosity piqued. “Do you know how long she’ll be gone?”

Hotch’s gaze was steady as he replied, “I do not. Why don’t you call her if you’re concerned? But let’s stay focused. This isn’t pertinent to the case at hand.”

The room fell into a brief, awkward silence, the unspoken questions lingering in the air. The team exchanged glances, sensing that there was more to the story, but knowing better than to press further. Hotch’s tone made it clear that they needed to get back to the task at hand, and so they did, though the concern for your absence lingered in the back of their minds.

—

“Spencer,” Penelope’s voice cut through the quiet hum of the break room, startling him.

“Ah! You scared me, Garcia,” Spencer exclaimed, nearly dropping his mug.

She didn’t smile or laugh at his reaction, her expression unusually serious as she approached him. “How did it feel?” she asked pointedly, her voice carrying a sharp edge.

Spencer blinked, confused. “What?”

“Hurts, doesn’t it?” she taunted, using the same words he had cruelly thrown at you.

Realization dawned on Spencer, and a wave of anxiety washed over him. “Penelope, what are you talking about?” he stammered, already dreading where this conversation was headed.

Penelope’s eyes narrowed, her tone full of disappointment. “I heard you, Spencer. I held Y/N as she cried. I don’t know what happened between the two of you, but that was a nasty scene. And I am seriously disappointed in you.”

Spencer winced, guilt twisting his insides. “I know… I messed up.”

“No kidding,” Penelope shot back, crossing her arms. “What are you going to do about it?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. The truth was, he hadn’t thought that far ahead. He had been so caught up in his own anger and hurt that he hadn’t considered the consequences of his actions.

“Well, you’d better figure it out,” Penelope said firmly. “Because this isn’t like you, Spencer. You’re better than this, and she deserves better than what you did.”

Spencer nodded, feeling the weight of her words. He knew she was right, and the guilt gnawed at him, but he was at a loss for how to make things right. As Penelope turned to leave, he was left standing there, staring into his now-cold cup of coffee, wondering how he could possibly begin to fix the mess he had made.

—

Flashback…

“Hey, hey, are you alright?” an unfamiliar voice asked, cutting through the quiet of your tearful moment.

You sniffled, wiping your nose before looking up to see a stranger standing in front of you. “Yeah, thanks,” you mumbled, trying to pull yourself together.

“I’m Jackson,” the man introduced himself with a soft smile, gesturing toward the bench you were sitting on. “Can I sit?”

You hesitated for a moment, but then shrugged, scooting over slightly. “I guess.”

Jackson took a seat beside you, giving you space but not too much. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked gently.

You eyed him suspiciously, your guard still up. “Is this a thing for you? Talking to crying girls on benches?”

He looked genuinely taken aback, holding up his hands defensively. “What? No, of course not. You just… you’re so pretty, too pretty to cry.”

You shot him a skeptical look, raising an eyebrow. He laughed, the sound warm and easy. “That was really bad, huh?”

“Yeah, it was really bad.” You deadpanned, expression unchanging.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make it worse.” Jackson cringed, his face morphing into one of mild embarrassment and regret.

Despite yourself, you couldn’t help but giggle a little. “No, no. It’s… it’s fine.” You heaved a big sigh, the weight of your emotions still heavy on your chest. “My, um, my partner… they just dumped me.”

Jackson’s expression softened with sympathy. “Oh, I’m so sorry. How long were you together?”

“Three years,” you replied, your voice shaky. “We started dating right out of high school.”

“Wow,” he said, clearly surprised. “And they just… ended it?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, the pain of the breakup still fresh.

Jackson hesitated for a moment before offering, “Do you need a hug?”

You narrowed your eyes playfully, trying to lighten the mood despite your sadness. “Depends… are you going to kill me?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Promise I won’t hurt you.”

You gave a small nod, and before you knew it, Jackson wrapped his arms around you in a comforting embrace. It was unexpected, but in that moment, it was exactly what you needed.

—

Present

“Hey, Hotch,” Spencer called out, picking up his pace to catch up to his unit chief as they walked through the hallway.

Hotch turned his head slightly, acknowledging Spencer as he fell in step beside him. “What’s up?”

“Do you happen to know when Agent Y/L/N will be back?” Spencer asked, trying to keep his tone casual.

Hotch glanced at him, his expression unreadable. “No, I don’t.”

“Alright, thanks,” Spencer replied, nodding as he looked down, feeling a bit deflated.

But Hotch wasn’t one to let things go so easily. “Why are you asking?” he inquired, his tone measured.

Spencer hesitated, searching for a reasonable explanation. “Just… have a question for her.”

Hotch gave him a considering look. “Get her number from Penelope. I’m sure she can answer any question you have that way.”

“Yeah…” Spencer trailed off, clearly not thrilled with the suggestion. He knew he could easily get your contact information, but after everything that had happened, the idea of reaching out to you directly felt daunting. Still, he gave Hotch a small nod of acknowledgment before the unit chief walked away, leaving Spencer to wrestle with the uncertainty gnawing at him.

—

Spencer knocked lightly on Penelope’s door frame, his nerves evident in the way he hesitated before speaking. “Garcia, can I come in?”

“I’m mad at you,” Penelope replied, not looking up from her computer, her tone sharp. “Enter at your own risk.”

Spencer nodded but stepped inside anyway, taking a cautious seat across from her desk. “Could you give me Y/N’s number?”

“Absolutely not,” Penelope said immediately, her voice firm. “You’ve done enough to that poor girl.”

Spencer shifted uncomfortably. “I thought you wanted me to fix things?”

“I do,” Penelope said, finally turning to face him. “But getting her number from someone else is tacky.”

“What should I do then?” Spencer asked, genuinely at a loss.

Penelope eyed him for a moment, considering. “I don’t know, Spencer. You could go to her apartment, make a grand gesture.”

“Okay… but why would I make a grand gesture? Can’t I just say sorry?”

Penelope sighed, her frustration clear. “Did you see the same woman I did? She was broken, Spencer. Whatever is going on between you two cannot be solved by a simple ‘sorry.’”

Spencer sighed deeply, rubbing the back of his neck. “Can I tell you something in confidence, Garcia?”

Penelope narrowed her eyes but nodded. Despite her anger, she would never betray his trust. “I suppose.”

Spencer took a deep breath, the words coming out more slowly than he intended. “Y/N and I… well, we were intimate after the Doctor Who convention.”

“I knew it!” Penelope exclaimed, her eyes widening.

“What? How?” Spencer asked, startled.

“Doesn’t matter,” she said, waving off his question. “Continue.”

“Alright… Well, it was an amazing night. The whole day, really. We got along so well. But then when I woke up, in her apartment, mind you, I was alone with just a note asking me to lock the door. And then she showed up here acting like she didn’t know who I was.”

Penelope’s expression softened slightly, her earlier anger giving way to understanding. “Spencer… that explains a lot.”

“I don’t know what I did wrong,” Spencer admitted, his voice quiet. “I don’t know why she left or why she’s been avoiding me. And then I just got so angry, and I took it out on her… I know I shouldn’t have, but I was hurt.”

Penelope leaned back in her chair, considering his words. “Spencer, it sounds like you both have a lot of unresolved feelings. But if you want to fix this, you need to do more than just apologize. You need to show her that you care, that you’re willing to put in the effort to make things right.”

Spencer nodded slowly, taking in her advice. “I just… I don’t know where to start.”

Penelope offered him a small, sympathetic smile. “Start by being honest with her. Tell her how you feel, what you’ve been going through. And if you really want to make it right, maybe that grand gesture isn’t such a bad idea after all.”

Spencer nodded again, this time with more determination. “Okay. I’ll figure something out.”

Penelope watched him leave, a hint of hope in her heart that maybe, just maybe, Spencer could make things right with you—if he was willing to put in the effort.

—

You were curled up on your couch, surrounded by a sea of crumpled tissues, the remnants of countless tearful nights. Your eyes were puffy and red, evidence of the endless crying sessions that had consumed your days since you took a leave of absence from work. In your hands, you held a photo album, the pages heavy with memories that now felt more like burdens than treasures.

The album had been a gift from Jackson’s mom for your fifth anniversary, a thoughtful compilation of your relationship’s most cherished moments. At the time, you had been so sure it was a precursor to something bigger, something life-changing. You had even found the ring hidden away in Jackson’s things, and your heart had soared with the hope that he was going to propose. But that hope had been cruelly dashed when you learned the truth—that ring wasn’t for you. It was for Jessica, the girl he’d been sleeping with on the side, the girl who had taken your place in his life.

The betrayal was like a knife in your chest, twisting deeper with every memory you revisited. Each photo, each smiling face, felt like a lie now. You had loved him, trusted him, and in return, he had shattered you. It wasn’t just the loss of Jackson that haunted you, though. There was Margo too, the one who had left you first, making you doubt your worth, your ability to be loved, leading you into the arms of Jackson. Literally. And then there was Spencer.

You had tried so hard to keep Spencer at arm’s length, to protect yourself from another heartbreak. But despite your best efforts, he had weaseled his way into your heart. You had let your guard down, just a little, and in return, he had crushed you, just like everyone else. At least Spencer had been quick about it, you thought bitterly. Over and done with in a single, devastating blow.

Your chief had been kind enough to grant you a leave of absence, requiring little explanation. You were a diligent worker, always going above and beyond, and in their words, you deserved a break. But this break had turned into something else—a time to mourn, to dissect everything that had gone wrong in your life. You replayed every failed relationship in your mind, trying to figure out where you had gone wrong, why you were always the one left behind.

But the answers didn’t come, only more tears and more heartache. The memories in the photo album blurred as your eyes filled with fresh tears. You had thought Jackson was the one, that you were finally going to have the life you’d always dreamed of. But now, that dream was gone, replaced by the harsh reality that you were alone, yet again.

And Spencer… you couldn’t deny the sting of that particular wound. You had pushed him away, trying to protect yourself, but in the end, it hadn’t mattered. He had hurt you anyway, and now you were left wondering if you would ever truly be able to trust someone again.

As you sat there on your couch, surrounded by the remnants of your broken heart, you couldn’t help but wonder if things would ever get better. Or if this was just the way it would always be—endlessly hoping, endlessly disappointed.

—

A knock on the door pulled you from the haze of your crying-induced slumber. You blinked, disoriented and groggy, not expecting anyone. At first, you tried to ignore it, assuming it was just a delivery person or maybe a neighbor. But the knocking persisted, growing more insistent. With a groan, you rolled off the couch, reluctantly dragging yourself to the door. You swung it open, puffy face and all, prepared to shoo away whoever was there.

Instead, you were met with the concerned face of Penelope Garcia. “Oh honey, come here,” she said, her voice soft and full of warmth as she immediately pulled you into a much-needed hug.

The floodgates opened again, and you found yourself crying into her shoulder, the weight of everything pouring out of you. Penelope held you tightly, rubbing your back and murmuring soothing words as you let it all out. Once you had cried yourself dry, she gently guided you back to the couch, making sure you were comfortable before she began tidying up the mess of tissues and empty mugs scattered around.

Penelope busied herself in the kitchen, making you a cup of tea, the comforting sounds of her movements a balm to your frayed nerves. When she returned, she handed you the warm mug and sat beside you, her hand resting on your knee in a gesture of quiet support.

“Pen… you really didn’t have to do all of this,” you said, your voice hoarse from all the crying.

“I know I don’t have to,” she replied, her tone firm but kind. “I want to.”

You managed a small, grateful smile. “Thank you. You’re a really good friend.”

Penelope smiled back, squeezing your knee. “I’m always here for you, sweetie. Do you want to tell me what’s got you in such a mess?”

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “Me,” you said, the words tinged with self-deprecation. “I’m the problem.”

“I know that’s not true,” Penelope countered gently. She picked up the photo album from the coffee table, the one you had been staring at for hours. “Who is this?”

And so, for the next few hours, you told Penelope everything. You started from the beginning, recounting the pain of your parents’ divorce and how it had shaped your views on love and trust. You told her about your first relationship with Margo, how it had ended so abruptly and left you feeling lost. You explained how Jackson had swooped in that same day, picking up the pieces, only to shatter you even more five years later when he cheated on you and ruined the life you had built together.

You confessed how, after Jackson, you had spiraled, sleeping with random people just to feel something, anything. The emptiness had consumed you until you met Spencer, and for the first time in a long while, you had actually felt something real. But even that had ended in heartbreak, leaving you more confused and hurt than ever before.

Penelope listened intently, never interrupting, just letting you get it all out. When you finally finished, you felt drained but also a little lighter, as if sharing your burden had eased some of the weight on your shoulders.

Penelope looked at you with compassion in her eyes. “You’ve been through so much, Y/N. It’s no wonder you’re feeling like this. But you’re not alone, okay? You have people who care about you, who want to help you through this.”

You nodded, feeling the truth in her words. For the first time in a while, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, things could get better. And with Penelope by your side, you knew you didn’t have to face it all alone.

—

Spencer was struggling, caught in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions that he couldn’t quite reconcile. He knew what he had done wasn’t okay—it was uncalled for, cruel even. But despite that knowledge, there was a part of him that felt vindicated. After all, you had hurt him first. In his mind, that gave him a reason, however flimsy, to lash out.

He knew it was an extremely childish and lame excuse, but he was grasping for straws, trying to justify his actions to himself. The rational part of him recognized that his behavior had been immature and unprofessional, but the wounded part of him clung to the idea that you deserved it. You had made him feel abandoned and discarded, so why shouldn’t he make you feel the same?

But as much as he tried to convince himself that he was in the right, the guilt lingered. Spencer had always prided himself on being better than this—better than petty revenge, better than letting his emotions get the best of him. And yet, here he was, refusing to apologize, holding onto his hurt like a shield to protect himself from the vulnerability that had already been exposed.

The truth was, Spencer didn’t want to apologize. Not yet. Because apologizing meant admitting that he had overreacted, that he had let his feelings dictate his actions in a way that was unbecoming of him. It meant acknowledging that he had hurt you, just as you had hurt him, and that scared him. It was easier to stay angry, to keep the wall up between you, than to face the messy emotions lying beneath the surface.

But deep down, he knew that this wasn’t sustainable. He couldn’t keep holding onto his grudge, not if he wanted to move forward. The tension was eating away at him, and no matter how much he tried to justify his actions, the truth was undeniable: you both had hurt each other, and the only way to heal was to confront it head-on.

Yet, for now, Spencer was stuck in limbo, torn between the desire to hold onto his pride and the nagging realization that he needed to make things right.

—

The atmosphere on the jet was warm and filled with camaraderie as the team reminisced about their time together, particularly the time they had spent with you while JJ was on maternity leave.

“JJ, you would have loved her,” Derek said, a nostalgic smile on his face as he recalled your time on the team.

“I did get to meet her briefly before I went on leave!” JJ replied happily. “She was so sweet. I’m glad she was a good fit while I was gone.”

“Yeah, of course, we’re all so happy you’re back,” Emily added, gazing lovingly at JJ. “But if you need a break, you know who to send!”

Spencer sat quietly at the back of the jet, watching his teammates share fond memories of you as they traveled home from their first case with JJ back on the team. Everyone seemed to miss your positive attitude and bright presence—especially Spencer. Not that he was going to admit that, not even to himself.

During a video chat with Penelope, Derek’s curiosity got the better of him. “Garcia, you went and saw her this week, right?” he asked.

“Yeah, I did,” Penelope confirmed, though her voice held a note of hesitation.

“Oh! How is she?” Emily asked excitedly.

Penelope paused, trying to tread carefully. “Um, she’s holding up,” she said, not wanting to give too much away but also not wanting to lie.

“Did something happen?” Derek asked, concern etched on his face. He had grown to care about you and was worried about what might be going on.

“Just some… personal things. She’ll be okay,” Penelope assured them, though her words did little to ease the tension.

Hotch, always the pragmatist, jumped in. “Did she say when she’ll be back? Emily and Spencer expressed interest in her help on previous cases.”

Everyone’s attention shifted to Spencer at that remark, surprised by Hotch’s comment. As far as they knew, Spencer wasn’t exactly your biggest fan. What they didn’t realize was that Spencer had asked Hotch about you in private, hoping for answers he didn’t want to admit he was seeking.

“No, she didn’t mention when she’ll be back to work,” Penelope replied, trying to sound casual.

The conversation eventually moved on, but Spencer stayed quiet, lost in his own thoughts. The knowledge that you weren’t doing well gnawed at him. Guilt tightened its grip on his heart. God, I’m an asshole, he thought bitterly.

Back at Quantico, Derek wasted no time. He cornered Spencer as soon as they got off the jet. “Reid, can I talk to you for a sec?” Derek’s tone left no room for refusal.

“Yeah, what’s up, Morgan?” Spencer replied, trying to keep his voice steady.

“Walk with me,” Derek said, leading the way to the break room, which was thankfully empty at that time of the evening. Once they were inside, Derek didn’t waste any time. “Do you remember telling me nothing was going on between you and Y/N?”

Spencer gulped, his throat suddenly dry as he realized where this conversation was headed. He could feel Derek’s eyes boring into him, the weight of his scrutiny heavy. “Uh-huh,” Spencer managed to get out, his voice tense.

Derek didn’t miss a beat, his expression unwavering as he leaned in slightly, his tone flat and unyielding. “I call bullshit.”

Spencer’s heart rate kicked up a notch, his mind scrambling for a way out of this. “Wh—what do you mean?” he stammered, trying to keep his composure even as his anxiety began to spike.

Derek crossed his arms, his gaze steady and unflinching. “You’re being weird, Reid. More so than usual.”

Spencer could feel the heat rising in his face, a flush of embarrassment mixed with frustration. He rolled his eyes, attempting to deflect with a weak jab. “Thanks,” he muttered, though he knew it wouldn’t be enough to throw Derek off the scent.

But Derek wasn’t letting it go, and Spencer knew he was cornered. The truth was about to come out, whether he was ready for it or not.

“I just mean that you’ve been moody, distant, grumpy. You snap at people, question Hotch. Anytime Y/N’s name is brought up, you get all twitchy, and you think we don’t notice, but we do. What happened, man?”

Spencer sighed, knowing he was caught. Stupid profilers. He realized there was no use trying to hide it anymore. Maybe if he confided in someone else, he could get some advice. Garcia was too biased, after all.

“Well, uh… we slept together before she started.”

“Whoa. Didn’t see that coming,” Derek admitted, clearly taken aback.

“Yeah. And she… she ditched me in the morning. In her own apartment. Never heard from her again until she showed up here.”

“Shit, man, really?”

“Mhm. I was so mad at her. She was acting like nothing happened, like she didn’t know me. So when we got that assignment in the club, I saw my opportunity, and I took it.”

Derek’s expression grew serious. “What did you do, Reid?”

“I… I used her,” Spencer confessed, his voice small.

Derek’s eyes widened in shock as he processed what Spencer had just revealed. “What? How?” Derek asked, his voice laced with disbelief, as if he couldn’t quite comprehend that Spencer, of all people, had done something so out of character.

Spencer swallowed hard, the weight of his actions pressing down on him. “That night… after the club… I went to her hotel room, and we… slept together. Again,” he admitted, his voice faltering slightly. “But this time… I left her.”

Derek stared at Spencer, the silence heavy between them. When he finally spoke, his tone was filled with disappointment. “That’s cold, man,” Derek said, shaking his head slowly, the disapproval clear in his voice. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing—this wasn’t the Spencer Reid he knew.

“I know,” Spencer replied quietly, his guilt evident. He looked down, unable to meet Derek’s gaze, the shame of his actions gnawing at him. He had crossed a line, and he knew it.

“There’s more, isn’t there?” Derek pressed.

Spencer nodded, his shame overwhelming. “When we got back here, everyone was gone—at least, I thought they were—except Y/N. And I—I went up to her and said some nasty things. Letting her know I did it on purpose.”

“Reid… who are you?” Derek asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

“I don’t know!” Spencer admitted, tears welling up in his eyes. “I’ve never felt like this before, and I feel so terrible. I don’t know how to fix it.”

Derek stared at Spencer, disbelief etched across his features. "Can you fix it? That’s fucked up, man."

Spencer’s shoulders slumped, the weight of his actions pressing down on him. “Yeah, I’m not sure,” he whispered, his voice thick with regret and self-loathing. He couldn’t meet Derek’s gaze, the shame too overwhelming.

Derek sighed, his mind working to piece together the situation. “You said someone else was there?” he asked, his tone cautious as he tried to understand the full scope of what had happened.

“Penelope,” Spencer confirmed, the word coming out almost as a sigh.

Derek’s eyes widened slightly. “And she didn’t tell me? I’m gonna have to spank her,” he muttered, shaking his head, though his voice lacked its usual playfulness.

“She told me to fix things,” Spencer continued, his voice trembling slightly. “I guess Y/N was a mess.”

“I bet she was,” Derek said, his tone softening with a mixture of sympathy for you and disappointment in Spencer.

“But I don’t know how,” Spencer admitted, his frustration evident. He was desperate to make things right, but he was lost, unsure of where to even begin.

Derek’s expression grew stern, his disappointment clear. “Honestly, Reid, you’re on your own with this one. I’d love to help, but… I’m really disappointed in you.” His words were blunt, but they needed to be. Spencer had crossed a line, and Derek wasn’t going to sugarcoat that.

Spencer nodded, tears finally spilling over as he realized just how badly he had screwed things up.

Derek’s expression softened slightly. “I still love you, and I want you to make it better, but I wouldn’t blame her for not forgiving you.”

“I know,” Spencer whispered, his voice barely audible as he grappled with the weight of his actions.

—

After Penelope’s visit, you really tried to pull yourself together. Knowing that you had a friend who was willing to show up, help, and listen just because they cared was enough to get you off the couch. It was a reminder that you weren’t as alone as you felt, that there were people who genuinely cared about your well-being. That realization gave you the strength to take the first steps toward healing.

You began by slowly cleaning your apartment, reclaiming your space from the chaos that had taken over. The simple act of tidying up felt like a small victory, a sign that you were starting to regain control. You indulged in some much-needed self-care—long baths, good food, and moments of quiet reflection. It was during these moments of solitude that you finally allowed yourself to confront the emotions you had been avoiding.

In the end, you came to a few important realizations. Yes, you did like Spencer more than you had anticipated, more than you had wanted to admit to yourself. But he had hurt you, and that pain couldn’t be ignored. You wondered if you could ever trust him again, and whether you were willing to take that risk. After much contemplation, you decided that it was time to be the bigger person. You needed to apologize to Spencer, to acknowledge your part in the situation, and to put it all behind you so that you could move forward—both professionally and personally.

However, the thought of facing Spencer in person was daunting. It felt like too much, too fast. You had already done more personal growth in the past few days than you had in years, and you weren’t quite ready for that kind of confrontation. So, you chose the next best route: writing a letter. It was a way to express yourself honestly without the pressure of a face-to-face conversation.

You took a deep breath and began to write.

Spencer—

Clearly, we have let things get too far, and we are both to blame for that. I’m sorry that I initially approached you and started things up between us. And I am sorry for leaving you that morning; I was so used to avoiding intimacy that when I felt a spark with you, I ran instead of confronting it. That was my mistake, and you did not deserve that.

I was unaware that you had felt something as well. Had I known, I would have talked to you sooner instead of facing you with pure professionalism.

As for our last case, let’s just forget about it and put it behind us. I want to be able to work together in the future and not hold any grudges if that is okay with you.

I hope you can forgive me. I’m sorry, Spencer.

Y/N

You read the letter over a few times, making sure it said everything you needed it to. It wasn’t perfect, but it was honest, and that was what mattered. You hoped that by reaching out, you could begin to mend the rift between you and Spencer, even if it was just enough to work together without the weight of the past hanging over you.

With the letter finished, you carefully folded it and placed it in an envelope. As you sealed it, you felt a small sense of relief. Whatever happened next, at least you had taken the first step. The rest was up to Spencer.

—

Returning to work the next week, you felt a renewed sense of purpose. The time off had done you some good, giving you the space to process everything that had happened and to refocus on what mattered. You were ready to dive back into the work that you loved, ready to face whatever challenges came your way—bad guys and all.

But before you could truly settle in, there was one task you needed to take care of. You arrived at the office extra early, the halls still quiet and the lights dim. You moved through the bullpen with a sense of stealth, hoping to avoid any of your early-rising colleagues. The letter to Spencer was safely tucked into your bag, and you were determined to drop it off on his desk without anyone noticing.

You approached his workspace, heart pounding slightly as you pulled the envelope out and set it down. You took a moment to look around, ensuring you were alone, before placing it neatly on top of the stack of papers already waiting for him. The envelope stood out against the manila folders, a small but significant gesture.

You didn’t know how or if you’d hear back from Spencer. Part of you wondered if he’d read it and simply brush it aside, or if he’d respond in some way. But regardless of the outcome, you felt a sense of closure just knowing that you had reached out, that you had done your part to clear the air. Whatever happened next was in his hands.

With the letter delivered, you headed to your own desk, ready to start the day. There was work to be done, cases to solve, and while the tension with Spencer might still linger, you were determined not to let it hold you back. For now, you would focus on what you did best—being a valuable member of the team and making a difference in the world.

—

Spencer walked into work as usual, his routine in full swing as he slung his bag over the back of his chair. But something on his desk caught his eye—a white envelope with his name written on it in a familiar handwriting. He froze, recognition dawning on him. It looked just like the writing on the note you’d left him that morning at your apartment.

His heart pounded as he quickly opened the envelope, unfolding the letter inside. As he read your words, a sinking feeling settled in his stomach. You thought you were to blame? Spencer’s guilt surged, hitting him like a tidal wave. He had been angry and hurt when you left him, but now, realizing how much pain he had caused you in return, he felt even more like an asshole than before. This wouldn’t do at all. Spencer couldn’t stand the thought of you carrying the blame for what had happened between you two.

He knew he had to find you—now. He needed to make things right.

Without wasting another second, Spencer made a beeline for Penelope’s lair. He found her surrounded by her monitors, fingers flying over the keys.

“Garcia,” he began, trying to catch his breath, “do you know what department Y/N is in? I need to talk to her, apologize.”

Penelope turned to him, eyebrows raised skeptically. “Counterterrorism.”

“Thank you!” Spencer replied, already turning on his heel to head toward the elevator.

He punched the button for your floor, his nerves growing with each passing second. The setup was similar to their own, and it didn’t take him long to find the cluster of desks where you were stationed. He spotted someone he recognized—Jordan—and hurried over.

“Jordan, is Y/N here?” Spencer asked, trying not to sound too frantic.

“Uh, hello to you too, Spencer. Yeah, she’s in her office,” Jordan replied with a bemused smile.

“Thanks!” Spencer said quickly, making his way to the office with your name on the door. He paused outside, taking a deep breath to steady himself before knocking.

“Come in,” he heard your voice call from inside.

He pushed the door open and stepped inside, feeling a rush of emotions as you looked up from your desk. Your eyes widened slightly in surprise before your expression quickly shifted to one of neutral professionalism.

“Hello, Doctor Reid. Can I help you?” you asked kindly, though there was a distance in your tone that made Spencer’s heart sink.

“You should have never apologized to me,” Spencer blurted out, unable to hold back.

You blinked, confused. “I’m sorry?”

“No, no, I mean—I should be the one apologizing,” Spencer clarified, his words tumbling out in a rush. “I was the jerk. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Spencer…” you began, but he could see the weariness in your eyes. “It’s over. Let’s let the past be the past.”

“No!” Spencer’s voice was more forceful than he intended, and he took a step closer to your desk. “I don’t want to push it aside. I want to talk about it. I want to fix things between us.”

You seemed taken aback by his intensity. “Why?”

“Because I care about you. I like you,” Spencer admitted, his voice softening as he finally voiced what he had been keeping inside.

“Oh,” was all you managed to say, your own emotions conflicting.

“Yeah,” Spencer let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I was kind of hoping you’d say you liked me too.”

You hesitated, glancing down at the papers on your desk before looking back up at him. “Oh, well, um, can we talk? After work? I’m really busy right now,” you said, your tone apologetic.

Spencer felt a pang of defeat, the familiar sting of rejection threatening to surface again. But he nodded, trying to keep his voice steady. “Yeah, do you want to come to mine?”

“No,” you shook your head gently. “How about we just talk here? Can you come back around 6?”

“Okay,” Spencer agreed, though the sinking feeling in his chest didn’t quite go away as he turned to leave your office.

As he walked back to his own floor, he couldn’t help but worry about what the conversation would bring. But he knew one thing for certain—he wasn’t going to let this chance to fix things between you slip through his fingers. Not again.

—

When Spencer returned to the bullpen, he immediately noticed Derek standing in the doorway to Penelope’s office. The two of them seemed deep in conversation, their body language tense. Spencer’s gut told him they were talking about him—he could feel it. The atmosphere had shifted, and when Derek glanced over his shoulder and caught sight of Spencer, his suspicions were confirmed.

Spencer knew he couldn’t avoid this, so he gathered what little pride he had left and walked over to them, trying to appear more composed than he felt.

“Baby girl here tells me you went to see Y/N?” Derek asked the moment Spencer stepped inside the office, his tone a mix of curiosity and concern.

“Yeah, I tried to apologize,” Spencer admitted, his voice lacking its usual confidence.

“Tried?” Penelope’s voice was softer than it had been earlier, her concern for both of you evident.

Spencer sighed, running a hand through his hair. “She left me a note this morning. It was on my desk when I got here. She took responsibility for everything that happened, asked if we could forgive and forget. I felt so awful because I’m the one who made a mess of everything. So I went to go tell her that, but she asked me to come back after work because she’s busy.”

Penelope exchanged a glance with Derek, her expression softening further. “And how did that make you feel?” she asked gently.

“Defeated, I guess,” Spencer replied, his shoulders slumping slightly. “I wanted to fix things right away, but it feels like I just keep making things worse.”

Derek crossed his arms, his gaze steady on Spencer. “You’ve got to understand, man, she’s probably just as conflicted as you are. Maybe even more. This isn’t going to be a quick fix.”

Penelope nodded in agreement. “She’s trying to process everything too, Spencer. Give her the time she needs, and don’t push too hard. But don’t give up either. If you really want to make things right, show her that you’re willing to do the work.”

Spencer nodded slowly, taking in their advice. He knew they were right, but the waiting, the uncertainty—it was eating at him. Still, he couldn’t force this. He had to be patient, had to respect your boundaries. He just hoped that when the time came, you’d be willing to let him in again.

—

The clock felt like it was crawling at a snail's pace to Spencer. He watched as the seconds ticked by for what felt like hours—though it was really just minutes, probably. To you, though, time was slipping away faster than it ever had before. You were dreading this conversation. You had hoped the two of you could put this all behind you, maybe be friends one day, and then, maybe—just maybe—something more. But you knew that if you talked to him right now, one look into those big, beautiful brown eyes and you’d melt faster than Derek when Penelope called his name.

But alas, you had already agreed to talk, and those puppy eyes had already got you. Honestly, you were just proud of yourself for having the resolve to ask him to come back later instead of jumping over the desk and into his arms the second he said he liked you.

Your thoughts were still spiraling when that much-anticipated knock on your office door came. You cleared your throat, trying to steady yourself, before calling out, “Come in.”

—

Flashback…

“Come in,” you called out, your voice light and unassuming as a knock sounded on your office door.

“Hey,” Jackson’s head appeared in the doorway, his expression hesitant.

“Oh, hey babe,” you perked up at the sight of him, but something about his demeanor immediately put you on edge.

“Can we talk?” he asked, stepping inside with an uneasy shift in his posture.

“Uh, yeah,” you replied, your smile fading as you sensed that something was off. “What’s up?”

“Uh, so there’s not a great way to tell you this…” he started, his voice trailing off, filled with uncertainty.

Your stomach twisted with sudden anxiety. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. For now,” he answered, but there was no comfort in his tone.

“Jackson, spit it out,” you demanded, losing patience as the tension built.

“I got someone pregnant.”

Your entire world stopped. The air around you seemed to thicken, your ears buzzing like they were filled with water, your lungs constricting as if you were drowning on dry land. The words didn’t make sense, not at first. Not until they slammed into you with full force.

“Who?” you managed to choke out, though a part of you already feared the answer.

“Jessica.”

“My best friend, Jessica?” The disbelief in your voice was palpable, a desperate hope clinging to the idea that this might be some horrible joke.

“That one, yup,” he confirmed, his voice lacking any hint of remorse.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Please tell me this is a joke and you’re going to propose instead,” you pleaded, your voice rising as anger and heartbreak collided.

“What? No, Y/N, I’m being serious.”

“Then why did I find a fucking engagement ring in your sock drawer?” you demanded, your anger boiling over as your heart cracked in two.

“Why were you in my sock drawer?” he deflected, his tone defensive.

“I was doing laundry! Answer me, Jackson!”

“I’m going to ask Jessica to marry me,” he said, his words hitting you like a sledgehammer.

Your mind raced, trying to make sense of the betrayal. “Is it because she’s pregnant… or do you love her?” you asked, your voice trembling. You weren’t sure you wanted to know, but you needed the truth.

“I—I love her,” he admitted, his voice weak.

“How long?” you asked, your voice eerily calm as the tears began to stream down your face. The numbness was already setting in, the shock taking over, leaving your gaze blank and distant. Jackson had never seen you like this in all the years you’d been together, not even when he first found you on that bench.

“What?” he stammered, thrown by your sudden composure.

“How long have you been sleeping with her?” you repeated, the question sharp and cold.

“A few months,” he confessed, his voice barely audible.

“Get out,” you ordered, your voice devoid of emotion.

“Y/N—”

“Get the fuck out, Jackson!” you shouted, the rage finally breaking through the numbness.

Jackson hesitated, guilt flashing in his eyes. “Um, before I go—and I will—you need to move out.”

The final blow. The nail in the coffin. You couldn’t believe the audacity, the cruelty. “I hope you both live a very unhappy and unfulfilling life,” you spat, your voice dripping with venom.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he offered weakly, but the apology was hollow, meaningless.

You turned away from him, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing any more of your pain. Jackson left without another word, leaving you alone with the shattered remnants of what you thought was your future.

—

Present

Spencer walked in, closing the door softly behind him before turning to face you. “Hi,” he breathed out, his voice carrying a mix of nervousness and resolve.

“Hi, Spencer,” you replied, your tone equally cautious but warm.

“How was your day?” he asked, clearly trying to ease into the conversation that both of you knew was coming.

“Agonizing, thanks. And yours?” you responded, a hint of humor lacing your words despite the tension.

“Just about the same,” he admitted with a small, rueful smile. “I’m sorry about that too. Should we just lay it all out? No more tiptoeing around?”

“Probably,” you agreed, feeling the weight of the conversation ahead settle in your chest.

“Okay,” Spencer said, taking a deep breath as he prepared to speak. “I can go first if it’s easier.” You nodded, gesturing for him to continue.

“Um, I don’t date much. Or sleep around, ever, really. So spending that night with you was important to me. Especially because it was with you,” he said earnestly, his eyes meeting yours with sincerity. “I really enjoyed the time we spent together—the convention, the bar, your place, all of it. I was so, so hurt when you were gone the next morning. It took me weeks to make peace with the fact that you’d left without a word. And then you showed up to my work, the new girl, and acted like nothing ever happened. While I understand now why you did that, it still stung—a lot.”

Spencer paused, taking a breath as if to steady himself. You opened your mouth to respond, but he shook his head, signaling that he wasn’t finished yet.

“But even when you were pushing our time together aside, you were so kind and helpful, so good at your job… it sucked,” he laughed lightly, though there was an edge of bitterness to it. “Because I wanted to hate you so badly, but I don’t know how anyone ever could hate you.” Your eyes welled up with tears at his words—he had no idea how much that simple sentence meant to you.

“Then you noticed little things about me,” Spencer continued, his voice softer now. “You drove when we were paired, you never grabbed my hands, you didn’t force me to talk to you… you were so considerate. When we had that assignment to play a couple at the club, I was so upset because that’s all I wanted—I wanted you to be my girlfriend, I wanted it to be real. But it wasn’t,” he smiled sadly, his eyes reflecting the regret he felt. “And afterwards, when I was feeling sorry for myself, I decided it was your fault we weren’t together, and that I wanted to hurt you back.”

Spencer looked down, fidgeting with his hands as he searched for the right words. You waited, sensing that this was the hardest part for him to admit.

“That was the meanest, cruelest, most immature thing I have ever done. And I am so, so sorry,” he said, his voice trembling with genuine remorse. “I understand if you don’t forgive me, but I just need you to know how amazing you are, and how none of my actions are at all a reflection of you or how I feel about you.”

His words hung in the air between you, heavy with the weight of everything unsaid. You could see how much it had taken for him to come here and lay it all out, to admit his wrongs and ask for forgiveness. And as much as the hurt still lingered, you could see that he was sincere, that he truly regretted what he had done.

—

Flashback…

“Y/N! Y/N, please! Just hear me out!” Jackson’s voice was desperate as he called after you, his footsteps quickening as he tried to catch up.

You stopped in your tracks, spinning around to face him, your glare so hot it could have burned him alive. “Jackson! Enough!” you seethed, the fury in your voice cutting through the air like a knife.

“Please… I need to explain,” he pleaded, his eyes wide with panic.

“Explain what?” you snapped. “You cheated with my best friend, got her pregnant, and dumped me. What more is there?”

His face crumpled as he tried to find the right words. “I still love you,” he blurted out, his voice trembling with emotion.

“Go fuck yourself. Or Jessica. I really don’t care,” you retorted, your voice dripping with disdain.

“No, baby, please—”

“Do not call me that,” you cut him off, your tone icy.

“Okay,” he muttered, stepping back with his hands up in surrender. “Just, please?”

You crossed your arms, staring him down. “Fine. Two minutes.”

Jackson blinked, caught off guard by the time limit. “How am I supposed to tell you everything in two minutes?” he asked, panic rising in his voice.

“Time’s ticking, troglodyte,” you shot back, your patience wearing thin.

“What’s that? Wait, no, don’t answer that,” he stammered, realizing he was wasting precious seconds. “Okay, well, I just… I’m so insecure, and I was worried you didn’t like me anymore, and Jessica made me feel good about myself—”

“Bullshit,” you interrupted, your eyes narrowing.

“No, no, it’s true,” he insisted, his voice wavering.

“You’re saying it’s my fault you cheated?” you asked, your voice deadly calm.

“No! You were so busy, and I needed attention,” he said, his words tumbling out in a rush.

“So it’s my fault,” you repeated, your anger simmering beneath the surface.

“That’s not what I meant,” he said quickly, his voice rising in desperation. “Please, stop interrupting me. We got into this routine that made every day feel so mundane. We never did anything exciting anymore, and Jessica was new and thrilling, and—”

“Time’s up,” you interrupted, your voice cold and final. “Bye.”

“Y/N—” he started, reaching out as if to stop you, but you were already walking away, your footsteps resolute as you disappeared down the crowded sidewalk.

Jackson stood there, his hand falling limply to his side as he watched you vanish into the throng of people. He knew, in that moment, that he had lost you for good.

—

Present

“You wanted me to be your girlfriend?” you asked, your voice small and uncertain.

Spencer looked up, startled by the calmness in your tone. There was no anger, no bitterness—just a quiet curiosity. “Yeah, I really did,” he admitted, his heart racing.

“You don’t anymore?” you asked, your eyes searching his face for an answer.

“Huh?” Spencer blinked, caught off guard by the question.

“You said ‘wanted’ and ‘did,’” you explained, your voice wavering slightly. “I’m just wondering if the feelings stopped.”

Realization dawned on him, and he quickly shook his head. “No, they didn’t.” Spencer’s heart pounded in his chest as he took a bold leap, hoping it was worth the risk.

You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts as Spencer watched you, his nerves on edge. “Listen, Spencer…” you began, and his heart sank as he braced himself for the rejection he feared was coming. He dropped his gaze, the weight of your words pressing down on him. “I have a lot of baggage. I’m basically damaged goods,” you laughed sadly, the sound tinged with self-doubt. “I haven’t been someone’s girlfriend in a long time. I don’t know that I would be any good at it.”

Spencer nodded, feeling the final sting of rejection sink in. He understood, or at least he thought he did. But then your words started to process, and something didn’t add up. “Wait,” he said, his head snapping up as he noticed the small smile playing on your lips. “What are you saying?”

You met his gaze, the warmth in your eyes catching him off guard. “I’m saying, if you’re willing to be patient with me, I’d love to be your girlfriend.”

Spencer’s breath caught in his throat, disbelief and joy swirling together as he processed what you were saying. A smile slowly spread across his face, the weight he’d been carrying for weeks suddenly lifting. “Are you serious?” he asked, his voice filled with hope.

You nodded, your smile widening. “Yeah, I’m serious.”

In that moment, Spencer felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time—pure, unfiltered happiness. He reached out, his hand trembling slightly as it found yours. “I’ll be patient,” he promised, his voice soft but firm. “I’ll be whatever you need.”

You squeezed his hand, a sense of relief washing over you as the tension between you finally began to melt away. For the first time in a long while, you felt like maybe, just maybe, this could work.

“What if all my baggage is too heavy?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly with lingering doubts.

Spencer’s expression softened as he looked at you, his eyes filled with understanding. “Y/N, I’ve been kidnapped, drugged, addicted to said drugs, and tortured. I don’t think anything you say will scare me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh through the mild tears that had formed over the course of the conversation. His words, though dark, were comforting in their own way. “Thank you, Spencer.”

“Are you sure you can handle me?” he teased, a playful glint in his eyes.

“Not at all,” you shook your head, your laughter mixing with his. “But I’d rather be with you than without.”

Spencer’s heart swelled at your words, and without thinking, he leaned over your desk and kissed you. This kiss was different from all the ones you’d shared before—it wasn’t driven by lust or desperation, but by care, passion, and something that felt a lot like love.

When he finally pulled back, he couldn’t help but smile at the dazed look on your face, your lips still parted slightly in surprise. “One more thing,” he added, his voice light but a little sheepish.

“Mhm,” you managed, still a bit breathless as you looked up at him.

“Penelope and Derek know everything… sorry. They’re pissed at me.” Spencer laughed a bit at himself.

You blinked, then smiled. “Penelope already knew, babe,” you reassured him. “I’ll make sure they know everything’s good.”

Spencer let out a relieved sigh, grateful for your understanding. “Thank you,” he said softly, his hand gently brushing your cheek.

You leaned into his touch, the weight of your worries finally beginning to lift. Whatever challenges lay ahead, you knew you wouldn’t have to face them alone—not anymore.

—

Three years later

“Y/N?” The sound of your name caused you to spin around from where you were examining flowers with Spencer.

“Jackson?” The shock in your voice was unmistakable as you registered the familiar face.

“Oh my god, wow!” Jackson exclaimed, stepping closer with a broad smile. “It’s so good to see you! How have you been?” He moved in for a hug, but you kept your hands on the flowers, avoiding the embrace.

He quickly took the hint, stepping back awkwardly. “Uh, good. You?” you asked, your tone polite but distant.

“I’m great, yeah! Still working on base. What are you up to?” Jackson’s voice held a note of forced cheerfulness, as if trying to bridge the years that had passed.

“FBI,” you replied simply.

“Wow! That’s amazing! What do you do—” Jackson began, but his question was abruptly cut off as Spencer approached, holding a different set of flowers and unaware of who Jackson was.

“Darling, what do you think of these?” Spencer asked, holding up the bouquet for you to see, his tone casual and affectionate.

“Those are beautiful, baby,” you replied with a warm smile, feeling a sense of calm wash over you as you turned your attention back to Spencer.

Jackson cleared his throat, drawing your focus back to him. “Who’s this?” he asked, clearly caught off guard by the presence of another man.

“Oh!” You had honestly forgotten he was still there. “This is my fiancé,” you said, a note of pride in your voice as you gestured to Spencer.

“Doctor Spencer Reid,” Spencer introduced himself, nodding politely but with a friendly demeanor.

“Oh, hi. Uh, Jackson,” he replied, awkwardly extending his hand, which Spencer smiled at and lifted his in a wave as a response.

There was a tense silence, filled only by the ambient noise of the flower shop. Jackson looked like he had more to say, but the words seemed to elude him. Meanwhile, you felt nothing but gratitude for the life you had built with Spencer—one filled with love, trust, and a future that Jackson no longer had any part of.

“Are you guys, uh, looking at flowers for your wedding?” Jackson asked, his voice a little hesitant as he glanced between you and Spencer.

“Yeah, we wanted to pick everything together,” you replied, smiling up at your very handsome fiancé. The warmth in your voice was undeniable, and it wasn’t lost on Jackson.

“And you?” Spencer asked politely, still unsure of who this man was but trying to be courteous.

“Oh, uh, these are ‘I’m sorry’ flowers for my girlfriend,” Jackson laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.

“Jessica?” you asked before you could stop yourself. At the mention of her name, Spencer’s expression shifted, finally catching on to who Jackson was.

“No, hah, we broke up a long time ago,” Jackson admitted, the awkwardness between the three of you growing palpable.

“Ah, well, I hope your child is doing well,” you said, your tone polite but distant. You nodded to Jackson before turning back to Spencer, gently tugging him by your laced fingers as you both walked away, trying to stifle the giggles that threatened to escape.

Once you were out of earshot, Spencer leaned in, a mischievous grin on his face. “Was that your ex?”

“Mhm,” you confirmed, grinning back at him.

“What a charmer,” he teased, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

You laughed, the tension from the unexpected encounter melting away. “You know, I’m really glad it’s you I’m marrying.”

“Me too,” Spencer replied, squeezing your hand affectionately as you both walked out of the shop, leaving the past firmly behind you.

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enreveriee · 7 days

Text

. , lilac , p.js (☂️)

IN WHICH: you liked jay a lot, but your innocent crush soon spiraled into an obsession, blurring the line between fantasy and reality, as your thoughts twisted into something darker than you expected. GENRE: fluff, slightly dark (?). WARNING(S): obsession, stalking, mentions of accident, kissing, not proofread, lmk if I missed anything. WORD COUNT: 7.8k

LIKE THE FLOATING CLOUD — Changing schools wasn’t on your wishlist, but here you were. It had been a long time since you’d recovered from the accident, and life had thrown you yet another curveball—starting over in a new place. Just weeks ago, you'd woken up from a coma, expecting some form of respite from life’s relentless challenges. But the world doesn’t pause, does it? You were thrust into yet another whirlwind, this time, school. New faces, new halls, and new pressures to bear.

The morning sunlight gleamed off the freshly polished windows of the sprawling campus, casting reflections that danced across the pavement. The building loomed before you—its modern glass façade glimmering in stark contrast to the worn, familiar bricks of your old school. You stopped for a moment, taking in its sheer size. “Damn,” you muttered under your breath, barely aware of the words slipping from your mouth. “They have a better infrastructure than my previous school.”

Stepping inside, the scent of fresh paint and newly waxed floors hit you, a stark reminder of just how new everything was. The halls were alive with the buzz of students rushing to get to their first classes. Lockers slammed, sneakers squeaked against the tile floors, and the faint hum of conversation filled the air. You watched them—groups of friends laughing, others buried in their phones or textbooks, weaving through the maze of hallways like they’d been doing it forever.

It felt strange, seeing all this after months confined to the stillness of a hospital bed. A stark contrast to the sterile walls and cold, white lights you had grown so familiar with. The vibrant chaos of school was both overwhelming and comforting in a way. You stood there for a moment, just observing, soaking in the life you’d almost forgotten. The sight of students hurrying to their classes, backpacks bouncing against their shoulders, gave you a sense of normalcy. The halls were bright, lined with posters of school events, sports team victories, and upcoming dances—everything you’d missed out on for what felt like a lifetime.

You clutched the straps of your bag a little tighter, pulling it further up your shoulder, almost as if it would anchor you in this unfamiliar place. You could feel the faintest bit of nervous energy rising within you, the kind that makes your heart beat just a little faster. But you weren’t going to let it overwhelm you. Not today.

As you passed by a few students gathered in the corridor, you could hear bits of their conversation. “Did you finish the homework for Mr. Park's class?” one asked, flipping through her notebook. The other girl nodded, her head buried in a thick textbook. You glanced at them, envy prickling the edges of your mind. They belonged here, and you… well, you were still finding your place.

“Alright,” you whispered to yourself, straightening up and taking a deep breath. “New school, new start.” With one last glance at the crowded hallway, you made your way toward your first class, determined to make this day yours, no matter how alien everything felt.

HELLO, HELLO LIKE A PETAL — Not even a week into your new school, you saw him for the first time—the class president. You didn’t know his name yet, but something about him drew your attention. He moved with quiet confidence, guiding students through their doubts with ease, his voice calm, yet commanding. His presence was magnetic, the way he gestured with his hands as he explained a complex problem, or the soft smile he gave when someone finally understood.

“Do you like him?” Semi, the girl sitting next to you, nudged your arm gently, her teasing grin barely concealed behind her hand. You rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the heat creeping up your neck. How could you like someone this early? It was ridiculous.

“I’ve never even seen him before today,” you muttered, pretending to focus on the scribbles in your notebook, though the lines blurred together as your thoughts wandered. “I don’t like him… not yet, at least.” You added a nervous chuckle, but your eyes refused to stray from him.

It wasn’t until he glanced back—straight at you—that your heart betrayed you, hammering against your chest as if it had been caught in the act. He walked over, each step deliberate, his posture straight and assured. You could feel Semi's gaze burning into the side of your face, her amusement at your sudden silence barely restrained.

“You haven’t submitted your assignment yet,” he said, his tone polite but firm, snapping you out of your daze. His eyes were kind, though, like he didn’t even notice the way your hands fumbled nervously with your pen as you nodded, barely able to form words.

“I’ll, uh, get that to you… soon,” you stammered, mentally kicking yourself. Of course, a guy like him wouldn’t even blink in your direction beyond official school matters. He was the class president, for crying out loud—probably too busy managing a thousand other things to even notice you.

As he turned to walk away, Semi was quick to jump in with a teasing whisper, “Girl, you’re down bad.” She let out a soft snicker as you glared at her, your heart still racing from the brief encounter.

Your eyes followed him despite yourself, as if they couldn’t tear away from the sight of him—his tall figure moving with that same effortless grace. It was just a simple conversation, nothing more than a sentence or two exchanged. But it left a mark, one that you knew would linger. Something about him seemed like a beacon, and you weren’t ready to look away.

“Well, that’s one way to make an impression,” you murmured to yourself, sighing quietly. It was ridiculous how so little could feel like so much.

LIKE THE SPRING BREEZE — You were still new at school, trying to adjust to the routine, but at least you had made one friend—Semi. She was your lifeline in this sea of unfamiliar faces, and with her by your side, school didn’t seem as daunting anymore. And then, there was Jay. You’d finally learned his name, not that it had been hard. He was popular, almost too popular.

One search of his Instagram, and you were greeted with hundreds of likes and comments from not just your school but people outside as well. He had that effortless charm, the kind that made people gravitate toward him. Maybe that was why you were crushing on him so hard—or maybe it was the way his smile seemed to light up the hallway whenever he passed by.

You found yourself scrolling through his feed late at night, learning everything you could without actually knowing him. You knew when his birthday was, how he liked his coffee, and what his favorite band was. And today, you decided to make a move, something small but hopefully memorable. You bought him a pastry, a cute little cupcake from the bakery down the street, wrapped it in a box with a neat little bow, and headed straight for his locker before school started.

Standing in front of his locker, you took a deep breath, placing the box inside. The nerves were eating you alive, but you didn’t want to back out now. Just as you turned around to leave, you froze. There he was. Jay, standing right behind you, his expression a mix of curiosity and confusion.

His voice broke the silence. “What are you doing?” He asked, his hand brushing against yours as he reached for the box. The contact sent a jolt up your spine, making your heart race even faster.

Your mouth went dry, but you managed to stammer out, “It’s your birthday, right? I, uh... got you these.” You held out the cupcake, your smile shaky as you tried to mask how flustered you were.

Jay blinked, glancing between you and the cupcake before offering a polite smile. “Thanks, but... do I know you?”

The words hit harder than they should have. You felt your heart drop into your stomach, the awkwardness thick in the air. He didn’t even know you? All this time, you’d been working up the courage to talk to him, and he didn’t even recognize you. Ouch. You forced a smile, trying to save face, but the sting of embarrassment was hard to shake off.

“We’re in the same class. I’m the new student,” you muttered, your voice a little quieter, hoping this wouldn’t be as humiliating as it felt.

Jay’s eyes widened slightly, realization dawning. “Oh, right. I must’ve forgotten. Sorry about that.” He gave you another smile, the kind that was polite but distant. “Thanks for this.” He held up the box, gave you a nod, and with that, he walked away, leaving you standing there with your pride in pieces.

You couldn’t help the frustrated sigh that escaped your lips as you watched him go. “Such a bastard,” you mumbled under your breath, though there wasn’t any real anger behind it. Just exasperation. Despite the awkwardness, you still found yourself drawn to him. How could you not? The way he walked, the way his shoulders moved with an effortless swagger—there was something about him that just pulled you in.

But then again, you weren’t the only one. You’d seen the way other girls looked at him, the way they’d flock to him like moths to a flame. You were just another admirer in a sea of them. And yet, here you were, feeling like this tiny interaction, awkward as it was, was something special. Maybe it was your first real conversation with him, but it was something.

LOVE RESEMBLES MISTY DREAMS — Love, for you, felt like one of those foggy dreams you have just before waking up—the kind where everything is hazy, but you can still remember the emotions. It was no longer just a feeling but a reality you crafted for yourself. Everything was deliberate, including the way you “accidentally” bumped into Jay in the hallways or “coincidentally” ended up in places where he usually went after school. Some might call it stalking, but you thought of it as strategic planning. After all, you just wanted to talk to him—get to know him.

And then, one day, you got your golden opportunity. How? You joined the History Club. You absolutely loathed history. Memorizing dates, names, and ancient events was the last thing you wanted to do, but none of that mattered when Jay was the club leader. You’d force yourself to endure it, just for a few moments with him.

Today was one of those long club meetings, the kind that dragged on forever as Jay led the discussion while you sat across the room, your eyes barely leaving him. The topic was something about ancient dynasties—honestly, you weren’t paying attention. Instead, you had focused on making your notes look as neat and perfect as possible, hoping to catch his eye with the colorful highlighters and meticulous doodles. When you finished, you slid over to where he was sitting, your heart hammering in your chest.

“Jay, how does this look?” you asked, handing over your notebook with a hopeful smile.

Jay barely glanced at the notes before his brows furrowed in confusion. “It’s... nice. But, um, you shouldn’t have used so many highlighters. It’s kinda hard to read with all the colors.” His tone was polite, but it still stung a little. Semi, who was sitting beside you, covered her mouth to hide her laughter, shaking her head as she continued working on her own notes.

“Oh... okay.” You tried not to let your disappointment show, but it was hard. Your enthusiasm had deflated like a balloon, and the frown tugging at your lips was a clear giveaway. Trying to keep your cool, you casually pulled out a small, wrapped box from your bag and slid it toward him, as if this were a completely normal thing to do.

Semi’s eyes widened, her shock evident. She was always amused by how bold you were when it came to Jay, but this—this was a new level. Jay blinked in confusion, his gaze flickering between you and the box now in front of him.

“What’s this for?” he asked, a small crease forming on his forehead. He picked up the box, turning it over in his hands as if trying to figure out why you’d given it to him.

You swallowed nervously. “I, uh, made some cookies for you.”

There. You said it. No going back now. You could practically hear Semi holding back her laugh, but you didn’t dare look at her. Your eyes were glued to Jay, waiting for his reaction. He stared at the box for a moment, looking almost... awkward. His smile was tight, as if he didn’t quite know how to handle the situation.

“Oh... thanks,” he said, his voice uncertain, like he was trying to be nice but wasn’t sure how to accept this gesture. He shifted his weight, glancing around the room as if searching for an escape route, and that small gesture hit you harder than you expected.

Your heart sank. The realization washed over you like a cold wave—he wasn’t interested. He probably had girls giving him gifts all the time, and you were just another admirer in the crowd. The worst part? He was too polite to brush you off outright, which only made you feel worse. The room began to clear out, and soon, it was just the two of you left, the silence hanging heavy between you.

You fiddled with the edge of your notebook, finally breaking the quiet with a question you dreaded asking but couldn’t keep inside any longer. “Do I... do I annoy you?”

Jay’s head snapped up at your words, his eyes wide with surprise. “What? No! Of course not.”

But you could tell from the way his smile didn’t reach his eyes that he wasn’t telling the whole truth. He was trying to be kind, but his discomfort was impossible to ignore. You forced a smile, but the hurt still crept into your voice.

“It’s fine,” you muttered, waving it off as if it didn’t matter. As if your heart wasn’t breaking a little.

Jay hesitated, his fingers tightening around the box of cookies you had given him. He looked almost guilty now, as if he knew how much his reaction had affected you. Without saying anything, he opened the box and took one of the heart-shaped cookies, biting into it quietly. You watched as he chewed slowly, his gaze drifting to the floor.

The silence that followed felt heavy, awkward, and filled with all the unsaid things that lingered in the air between you. It wasn’t much, but seeing him eat the cookies you made—even though you knew they weren’t going to change anything—was enough to make you feel a small flicker of hope again, even if just for a moment.

I LIKE THE SCENT OF TODAY — As if life had its own twisted way of pulling strings, you eventually grew closer to Jay—or at least, that’s what you told yourself. Bonding over history wasn’t something you ever anticipated, but somehow, there you were. It had been five months. Five months of stolen glances, hushed conversations, and countless moments where you felt your heart skip a beat just from being near him.

Five months of wondering why Jay didn’t push you away. Despite knowing your feelings, he had never told you to stop. Sure, you had followed him home once or twice—okay, maybe more than once. But the strange thing was, he noticed. He noticed and he never did anything to stop you. Instead, he fed your one-sided affection with smiles that lingered a bit too long and conversations that bordered on intimate. It confused you. Sometimes you wondered why he acted as if he was leading you on, yet at other times, it felt like he was just being kind out of some sort of obligation.

You remembered one afternoon clearly. It was just the two of you in the History Club room. The other members had gone out for a break, and the quiet settled between you like a soft, suffocating blanket. Jay was engrossed in some text about ancient civilizations, flipping through the pages with a look of calm concentration. You, on the other hand, couldn’t focus. Your eyes kept drifting toward him, your mind racing with the questions you had been holding in for weeks.

“Jay? Stop talking about historical monuments,” you muttered softly, breaking the silence. You’d lost track of how long he’d been going on about some ancient ruin. Normally, you’d let him talk—it was one of the things you liked about him. But today was different. There was something bubbling inside you, a feeling that couldn’t be ignored any longer.

Jay blinked, startled by your interruption. He looked up from his book, his dark eyes meeting yours with a curious glint. “Oh?” he asked, his voice tinged with confusion. He set the book aside, leaning back in his chair, and raised an eyebrow. “Then, what do you want to talk about?”

Before you could respond, he casually reached out, gripping the arm of your chair and pulling it closer to his. The sudden movement caught you off guard, and now your knees almost brushed his. You felt a blush creeping up your neck, your heart fluttering in your chest as you looked down, avoiding his gaze.

But you had to ask. You had to know. Swallowing your nerves, you looked back up at him, eyes searching his for some kind of answer. “Jay? Why are you doing this?”

He frowned, clearly not understanding what you meant. “Doing what?” he asked, his tone casual, but you could tell he was puzzled. His gaze flickered to the small, wrapped gift boxes and notes that littered his desk—tokens of affection from his admirers, yourself included. You watched his eyes settle on the trinkets, as if they might hold the answer.

You followed his gaze, feeling a knot of frustration tightening in your chest. “Accepting my gifts, I mean… and talking to me,” you clarified, your voice quieter now, but firm. You hated the way your heart felt heavy, as if you were bracing for a truth you didn’t want to hear. “Why do you talk to me like this? Why do you make me feel like there’s something between us?”

Jay seemed taken aback by your bluntness. He glanced back at you, a small, almost imperceptible sigh escaping his lips as he looked away again, his fingers tracing the edge of the nearest gift box. “Oh, that… they were nice,” he muttered after a moment, his tone flat.

Nice? That was it? You felt the sting of his words, the casual way he dismissed what meant so much to you. “That’s the only reason?” you asked, frowning as you leaned back slightly, feeling the weight of disappointment settle in.

“Yeah.” His response came without hesitation, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Your frustration simmered, but more than that, there was a growing ache in your chest. How could he be so oblivious? You stood up, pushing your chair back with a scrape that echoed through the empty room. “Jay, don’t you think someone might not give this kind of stuff to just a friend?” You didn’t care if you sounded angry now—hell, you were angry. Angry, hurt, and confused.

Jay met your gaze, his expression unreadable. He didn’t flinch. “I know.”

You blinked, your frown deepening. “You know?” The words felt like a punch, your hands balling into fists at your sides. “Then why are you leading me on?”

Jay lowered his head, his hair falling slightly over his eyes as he let out another sigh. His voice was quieter when he spoke, tinged with something that almost sounded like regret. “I know that you like me,” he admitted. “But… I don’t think I want to love anyone anytime soon.”

You froze, the air between you thick with unsaid words. The way he said it was like a door closing—a gentle but firm rejection. He wasn’t even trying to keep you there, to stop you from walking out. He just sat there, looking down, his hands resting on the table as if he didn’t know what to do with them.

Your heart squeezed painfully in your chest, but then curiosity took over. “Why not?” you asked, stepping closer. The hurt was still there, but now there was something else—an ache to understand. “Why don’t you want to love someone?”

Jay looked up, his eyes meeting yours for just a moment before they darted away again. He hesitated, his voice barely above a whisper when he finally spoke. “I’m afraid of loving someone… and getting hurt.”

His words hung in the air, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say. There was a vulnerability in his tone that made you hesitate, but you pushed that aside. Instead, you took a deep breath, letting the silence stretch for a moment before you stepped even closer, a sudden idea forming in your mind.

“Then…” You paused, feeling the weight of your words. “How about you date me until graduation? And once the spring comes, we’ll part ways.” You smiled softly, the sadness lingering behind it as you met his eyes again. “Love me only until this spring.”

Jay’s eyes widened slightly, surprised by your proposal. You could see the conflict in his gaze, the way he wanted to say no but hesitated. He looked down at the pile of gifts again, his fingers brushing the edge of one of the boxes before he finally sighed, shaking his head softly.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he murmured, his voice unsure.

You bit your lip, stepping even closer. “Oh, c’mon! Please?” You knew how desperate you sounded, how much like a lovestruck fool you must’ve appeared. But you didn’t care. You couldn’t let this chance slip away—not when you were this close.

Jay looked up at you, really looked at you this time. His eyes searched yours for something, and after a long pause, he let out a resigned sigh. “Fine,” he muttered, his voice soft but clear. “I’ll love you… only until this spring.”

And as he spoke, he gazed at you, his expression unreadable as his eyes flickered to the gifts on his desk—reminders of the fleeting nature of the affection people offered him. You couldn’t help but wonder if, just maybe, this was the start of something that could last longer than a single season.

LOVE ME ONLY ‘TIL THIS SPRING — Spring had barely begun to unfurl its vibrant colors, but you already felt the weight of an unspoken clock ticking down. Two months remained until graduation, and with it, the end of your deal with Jay—no strings, no lasting attachments, just a fleeting experience of dating. But for you, it was never just that. You had been attached long before this "spring romance" ever started, yet here you were, clinging to his arm like a lifeline, trying to savor each moment despite the cold reality of an expiration date.

Walking down the crowded hallway, your grip on his arm tightened. The judgmental glances from other students followed you both, sharp and filled with disdain, as though they couldn't understand why Jay, the untouchable, mysterious boy, was with you. You knew the looks well—they stung, but they didn’t surprise you. This whole thing was supposed to be temporary, just a silly experiment. Yet, the knot in your chest told a different story. You were already in too deep.

Jay, on the other hand, remained indifferent. His usual stoic expression hadn't changed much since the two of you began this strange arrangement. He didn't stop you from holding his hand, from clinging to his arm, but he didn’t make any gestures that suggested anything deeper. He had agreed to this—dating until spring, no more, no less—but you couldn’t help but wonder: Was this all just a façade?

“Don’t you dare hurt her.” Semi, your friend, shot Jay a warning glance as the two of you passed by her near the lockers. The sharpness in her voice cut through the haze of your thoughts, bringing you back to reality. You almost winced at her words, remembering how you’d bragged about dating Jay. What would she say if she knew this was all temporary?

Jay glanced down at you, sensing your discomfort, and squeezed your hand gently. It was a small gesture, but one that momentarily eased your embarrassment. For a second, you allowed yourself to imagine that this wasn’t just for show, that maybe—just maybe—he felt something too.

The walk home after school was quiet, as usual. Jay walked beside you, his hands in his pockets, while you clutched your bag, the silence between you growing heavier with each step. Even though you had been dating for a month, it was nothing like the relationships you’d imagined. There were no sweet goodnight texts, no surprise visits, no real affection beyond holding hands. He never let you into his world—into his home or his heart.

Finally, when you reached the school gates, you couldn’t hold it in any longer. The words spilled out before you could stop them.

“Jay...” You called his name softly, biting your lip, your hand clutching your bag tighter.

He turned to you, his expression unreadable. “Mm?” was all he hummed in response, his voice low and casual.

You felt your heart race, unsure if you were being too bold or foolish, but you pressed on. “Can you kiss me?” The words came out rushed, your face heating up instantly. You almost couldn’t believe what you’d just said. “I mean—I'm your girlfriend, right... So, can you kiss me? A peck is fine too.”

Jay froze, blinking in surprise. His eyes widened slightly as if he hadn’t expected such a request from you. “Huh?” He coughed, nearly choking on his breath, clearly caught off guard by your sudden boldness. The corner of his lips twitched as though he wasn’t sure if he should laugh or be serious.

You immediately regretted it, feeling your face burn even more. The silence that followed felt agonizing. You could practically hear your own heart pounding in your chest. “Nevermind,” you mumbled, waving it off as you turned away, your shoulders slumping in defeat. Why did I say that? Embarrassment flooded through you, and you started to walk ahead, putting distance between the two of you.

But then, before you could take more than two steps, you felt a sudden tug on your wrist. Jay had grabbed you from behind, his hand firm yet gentle as he pulled you back toward him. You barely had time to turn around before he was there—his lips crashing onto yours.

The kiss was sudden, forceful, and filled with an intensity you hadn’t anticipated. His lips were soft, warm against yours, but there was something almost desperate in the way he kissed you, as if he was letting out something he had been holding back for too long. You were momentarily stunned, eyes wide in shock, but your body responded instinctively, your hands coming up to gently hold onto his shirt for support.

Jay's other hand slid to the back of your neck, his touch delicate but firm, pulling you closer as though he needed to feel your presence, to make the moment real. The world around you seemed to blur, the whispers of students, the hum of cars in the distance—all of it faded as the kiss deepened. You could feel your heartbeat hammering in your chest, but it wasn’t just because of the kiss—it was the realization that, in this brief moment, something shifted. This wasn’t the kiss of someone merely fulfilling a temporary deal.

After what felt like an eternity, Jay slowly pulled back, his breath warm against your lips. He gazed down at you, his usual calm demeanor replaced by something softer, more vulnerable. His hand lingered on your wrist for a second longer, as if he wasn’t quite ready to let go.

“I... I didn’t expect that,” you breathed out, still dazed from the kiss, your cheeks flushed as you stared up at him.

Jay didn’t say anything for a moment, his eyes searching yours, as if debating whether to speak or to leave things unsaid. Finally, he muttered, “You asked for it.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “I didn’t think you’d actually do it.”

He shrugged, his lips quirking up in a faint smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Maybe I wanted to.” His voice was low, almost as if he hadn’t meant for you to hear it.

For a moment, you stood there, staring at each other, the weight of the unspoken emotions between you heavy in the air. Maybe this spring wasn’t just a fleeting experience. Maybe, just maybe, something real was growing between the two of you. But neither of you dared to say it aloud.

THE DAY THE LILAC FLOWERS FALL — The weekend sun shone brightly, casting a golden hue over the bustling streets as you wandered aimlessly with Semi by your side. It was a rare day of freedom, a chance to escape from the chaos of school and simply relax. Laughter filled the air as the two of you shared stories and jokes, weaving through the crowd in search of the next spot to explore.

But then, everything shifted in an instant.

Distracted by Semi's teasing, you hadn’t noticed the tall figure walking toward you until it was too late. Your shoulder brushed against his, and before you knew it, the man was glaring down at you with a look that sent a shiver down your spine. “Sorry,” you muttered quickly, lowering your head in hopes that your apology would be enough to diffuse the situation.

It wasn’t.

“Girls like you always do this.” His voice was a low, menacing growl, filled with disdain. His eyes narrowed dangerously as he suddenly reached out, grabbing your wrists with a force that made you wince. The sudden, painful grip startled you, your breath catching in your throat as fear surged through your veins.

Semi, ever the protective friend, immediately rushed forward. “Hey, let go of her!” she demanded, her voice firm despite the obvious tension. But even she hesitated slightly, clearly aware of how much stronger the guy was.

You struggled against his hold, trying to pull away, but his grip only tightened, making you feel more trapped with each passing second. Panic set in, and just as you were about to call out for help, a blur of movement caught your eye.

A sharp, powerful punch connected with the man’s face, and the sound echoed in your ears, causing everyone around to freeze. You gasped as you realized who had thrown the punch—Jay.

Your eyes widened as you watched in stunned silence. Jay had appeared out of nowhere, and now, he was standing protectively in front of you, his fists clenched and his expression dark, far more intense than you’d ever seen before. The guy stumbled back, groaning in pain, but Jay wasn’t done. He lunged forward, landing another punch, and then another, each hit more brutal than the last.

“Jay, stop!” you cried out, rushing toward him, your heart pounding wildly in your chest. You had never seen him like this before, this fierce and angry. He was relentless, and the guy, now bleeding and terrified, tried to shield himself, but Jay didn’t let up.

You reached out, grabbing onto Jay’s arm from behind, desperately trying to pull him away. “Jay, please!” you pleaded, your voice shaky. “That’s enough. Please…”

At your touch, Jay finally froze. His body stiffened as if suddenly aware of what he had done. The guy on the receiving end of his punches scrambled to his feet and fled, not daring to look back, his face bloodied and bruised. You stood there, still gripping Jay’s arm, your breath shaky as you tried to process what had just happened.

Before you could say anything else, Jay turned toward you. In an instant, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest. The suddenness of it made your heart skip a beat. His embrace was tight, protective, almost as if he was trying to shield you from the world. One of his hands gently stroked your hair, his touch surprisingly tender considering the fury that had consumed him moments before.

“You could’ve gotten hurt,” he muttered, his voice low and filled with concern as he buried his face into your hair, breathing deeply as if needing to calm himself down.

You stood there in his arms, completely speechless. This wasn’t the Jay you were used to—the distant, indifferent guy who rarely showed emotion. This was different. The way he held you, the way he had rushed to your side without hesitation… it felt real, it felt genuine. For the first time, he felt like a real boyfriend, and the warmth that spread through you at that realization was almost overwhelming.

Your heart pounded in your chest, and you couldn’t help but smile as you wrapped your arms around him in return, hugging him tightly. His scent, the warmth of his body pressed against yours, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat—it all made you feel safe, like nothing in the world could hurt you as long as he was there. You wanted to stay in that moment forever.

But then, of course, Semi broke the silence with a loud, exaggerated cough. You could hear the barely-contained giggles bubbling up in her throat, and when you looked over, she was smirking, clearly enjoying the display of "live romance" that had unfolded before her eyes.

You felt a rush of embarrassment flood through you, your cheeks heating up as you quickly pulled away from Jay’s embrace, though part of you didn’t really want to let go. Jay cleared his throat, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck as he glanced between you and Semi.

“Um…” you started, but you weren’t even sure what to say. How could you even begin to explain all of this?

Semi, however, wasn’t going to let you off that easily. She raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a mischievous grin. “Well, that was… something,” she teased, folding her arms across her chest. “Didn’t know Jay had it in him to be a knight in shining armor.”

Jay rolled his eyes, though there was a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I wasn’t trying to be anything,” he muttered under his breath, but his hand found its way to yours again, fingers intertwining with yours in a gesture that felt so natural, it made your heart flutter.

“You definitely looked the part,” Semi added, winking at you. “Seriously though, you okay? That guy was a creep.”

You nodded, still a little shaken but grateful. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks to Jay.” You glanced up at him, unable to hide the soft smile on your face. He looked down at you, his expression unreadable for a moment before he gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

“Good,” he said quietly, his eyes lingering on you for just a second longer. There was something in his gaze, something unspoken that made you wonder if this moment had changed things between you two—if maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t just for show anymore.

CLIMAX OF OUR WHITE SPRING DAYS — Graduation day had arrived like a ticking clock you couldn’t silence. The weight of finality pressed down on you, making it hard to breathe. You stood in the sea of students, watching the world pass by in slow motion as the sun bathed everything in warm light, but inside, you felt cold.

Your fingers fidgeted with the edge of your gown as you glanced over at him—Jay—standing with his friends, laughing about something that seemed distant and unreachable. The end of your three-month dating experiment loomed over you like a dark cloud. It wasn’t just the end of school. It was the end of him, of being close to him, even if it was just pretend.

“Go talk to him.” Semi’s voice broke through the haze as she nudged you, her eyes filled with that encouraging spark she always had. But you didn’t move. How could you? You weren’t his girlfriend anymore, not even in the superficial way you'd been for these past few months.

You had no right to approach him.

Your chest tightened as you tried to steady your breath, but your eyes betrayed you, drifting back to him once more. The laughter, the movement, the noise—it all blurred, dimming around the edges until it seemed like everyone was fading away, disappearing like smoke in the wind. And then there was just him.

Only him.

The background turned white, stark and empty. The vividness of the graduation, the bright colors of everyone’s robes and caps, the cheerful chaos—all of it vanished, leaving you standing in this surreal silence.

Jay stood alone now, the only one left in this strange world that suddenly felt more dream than reality. He started walking toward you, every step deliberate, but there was something different—something ethereal.

You blinked, unsure of what you were seeing. There was a faint shimmer behind him, something soft and luminous, like wings. Wings? You blinked again, and there they were, delicate and translucent, fluttering gently with each step he took. His face was calm, serene, almost unrecognizable from the boy you'd dated. He was... otherworldly.

Your heart pounded in your chest, confusion twisting through you. “What…?” you muttered to yourself, trying to make sense of it, but nothing made sense anymore.

Jay stopped in front of you, his gaze soft and yet so intense, locking onto yours with an emotion you couldn’t place. Slowly, as if afraid he might shatter the moment, he reached up and grazed his fingers across your cheek, his touch light as a feather.

“You need to wake up now,” he whispered, his voice deeper, gentler than you'd ever heard before. “It’s been too long since you’ve been in the dark.”

His words cut through you, leaving you more confused than ever. Wake up? What did that mean? What darkness was he talking about?

You flinched at his touch, stepping back as your breath hitched. “What are you saying?” The tremor in your voice betrayed your panic. You looked around, desperate to find something familiar, something to cling to. But all you could see was the white, stretching endlessly around you. You couldn’t make sense of anything. Nothing was real.

Your hands flew to your head as a sudden pain pulsed in your temples. Flashes of light blinked before your eyes—images you couldn’t fully grasp, memories or maybe dreams, flashing too fast for you to catch. You dropped to your knees, the weight of it all crashing down on you, confusion and frustration mixing until you couldn’t breathe.

“I don’t—” Your voice cracked as you clawed at the air, scratching your head as if trying to tear away the confusion. “What’s happening?”

The ground felt soft beneath you, like clouds, but the pressure in your chest grew tighter, heavier, as if the world itself was closing in.

Jay knelt down beside you, his movements slow and calm, his eyes filled with something deep, something almost tender. He reached for you again, but you flinched, not wanting to feel the foreignness of his touch.

“Shhh,” he whispered softly, his voice like a lullaby, as his hand hovered over your head. He didn't push. He simply waited, his presence both grounding and terrifying at once. You wanted to push him away, to demand answers, but at the same time, a strange comfort wrapped around you, like a blanket in the middle of a storm.

The world flickered around you, the white light growing brighter, almost blinding.

Jay leaned closer, his face inches from yours. “It’s time to say goodnight,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. Before you could protest, before you could even think, he pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead, his lips gentle and reassuring.

And then, just as quickly as he had appeared, the world around you shifted. The soft white light began to darken, curling at the edges, growing darker and darker until it swallowed everything whole. The last thing you felt was Jay’s warmth before it, too, faded into the blackness. You were alone.

Your breath hitched, and you closed your eyes as the darkness wrapped around you like a heavy blanket, pulling you under.

THE END OF LILAC SPRING — The world felt like it was spinning, even though you were lying still. Blinding light from the overhead lamp above your hospital bed seeped into your barely-open eyes, burning your retinas. The persistent beep of a heart monitor echoed in the room, in time with the erratic pounding of your heart. But the voice that broke through it all— Semi's voice—was frantic, pulling you back to the surface.

“Wake up! Wake up!”

Your eyelids fluttered open fully, only to meet the concerned face of your best friend, Semi. Her hands hovered just above your blanket-covered arms, as if afraid to touch you. Her wide eyes, framed by disheveled strands of hair, looked both relieved and shaken. This wasn’t the Semi you’d known for years. There was something different about her—something less familiar, almost like she was a stranger. And that strange feeling twisted in your chest like a knife.

You blinked, trying to adjust to the light, to the sudden rush of sensations hitting you all at once—the smell of antiseptic, the sound of footsteps outside the door, the faint chatter of doctors and nurses.

But none of that mattered. Where was Jay?

“W-where’s Jay?” you gasped out, sitting up too quickly, causing a sharp tug on the tubes attached to your arms. You barely registered the IV drip dangling beside you or the oxygen clip on your finger. Your mind was racing, your heart thundering against your ribcage as you searched the sterile, white room. He had to be here. He always was.

Semi blinked, her brows knitting together in confusion. “Jay?” she echoed, her voice hesitant as she sat down on the chair beside your hospital bed, shifting uncomfortably. You could see the confusion written all over her face, like she was trying to solve a puzzle but missing the pieces.

Your heart lurched. Why wasn’t she answering? Why wasn’t he here?

“Jay!” you nearly shouted this time, the panic rising in your throat, making your voice crack. “The class leader! He was in the history club too—he was my boyfriend!” Your words tumbled out, desperate, almost pleading with her to remember.

But Semi’s expression only grew more puzzled, her lips parting slightly as if trying to find the right words. She didn’t know him.

“There’s no Jay,” she said, her voice flat, her eyes searching yours as if waiting for a reaction. “What are you even talking about? You’ve been in a coma for almost a year, and the first thing you ask about is some guy?”

Her words hit you like a punch to the gut. No Jay? No Jay?! You stared at her, wide-eyed, the room tilting dangerously around you. Your breath caught in your throat, and you glanced around again, your head pounding as if your brain couldn’t process what she was saying. You could barely hear the doctors' voices outside, your parents’ relieved murmurs from the corner of the room.

“I—I don’t understand.” Your voice trembled, and your fingers clutched the thin hospital blanket in a white-knuckled grip. How could Jay not exist? How could she not know him when every single day had been filled with him? “We were together, Semi. He was real. He was real!”

But Semi wasn’t budging. She leaned back, crossing her arms, frustration flickering in her eyes. “You were in a car accident. Do you remember that?” she asked, her voice softening slightly, though there was still a hint of disbelief. “A car crash. Blood everywhere. That’s why you’ve been in a coma.” Her voice dropped to a whisper as her eyes flickered to the tubes attached to your body. “That’s why you’re here.”

Your body went cold. A coma? Blood? The words bounced around in your head, but they didn’t stick. Your hands trembled as they reached for the bed’s railing, trying to anchor yourself. You could still feel Jay’s presence, still remember his smile, his touch, the way he’d whispered goodnight to you... before everything went dark.

A cold shiver ran down your spine, and your throat tightened as you managed to ask, “W-what date is it?”

“September 20, 2024,” Semi replied, her voice barely audible, but it hit you like a tidal wave. September.

Your eyes widened as the pieces began to fall apart in your mind, crumbling like ash in your hands. The school year, the three months with Jay, the spring—none of it had been real. None of it.

Tears welled up in your eyes as the weight of it all settled in your chest like a boulder, pressing down, squeezing the air from your lungs. A quiet tear slipped down your cheek, and you quickly wiped it away, turning to look out the window as if the outside world could give you some semblance of reality.

Beyond the glass, the sky was painted in soft shades of pink and orange, the setting sun casting a warm glow over everything. Lilac flowers fluttered from a nearby tree, caught in the gentle breeze. They swirled in the air, delicate and fleeting, just like the memories of Jay.

You watched them fall, your heart aching with a bittersweet pang. Was it all just a dream? Had Jay been nothing more than a figment of your comatose mind, created to fill the emptiness while you lay in the dark? The thought was unbearable, but the more you tried to hold onto him, the more he slipped away—like the lilac petals, fading from your reach.

But somewhere deep inside, beneath the confusion and pain, a small part of you hoped—hoped that he was real. That maybe, somewhere, in some other world, Jay existed, waiting with that final page of your story. And though you couldn’t be sure, you held onto that hope, because the goodbye—his goodnight—had been too sweet, too tender to be nothing at all.

With trembling hands, you let the last tear fall, watching as the petals danced in the wind, disappearing into the horizon. Even if it was just a dream, you wished for one more chapter—one more part in the story that had been left unfinished.

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