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cod-z · 2 months

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Why do you HATE the rain, L.T?

You chose to read this, do NOT blame me if you ignore my warnings! TW: Angst, No Comfort, Death, Betrayal, Abuse, Trauma, Hint/Mention of SA on a Minor

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader

| One-shots | Pt. 2 |

A/N: Realised that I really love writing angst but hate reading it lmao

Simon, or Ghost known out in the field, knew you since you were a child, yes, both you and the reaper of death were childhood best friends, never leaving each other’s side, taking on the world even with Simon’s questionable family problems that he always covered from you.

Always protecting the things he deemed weren’t good for your mind and soul, not wanting you grow up as fast as he did, he was older in his mind and his body is taking its time to catch up.

You and Simon were inseparable that was a fact, however between you two the dynamic was rather odd.

You were the troublemaker of the duo, always jumping into danger, never considering your safety, always taking the hits whenever Simon gets bullied at school or when his father gets so drunk he doesn’t recognise you when you came to get Simon’s sleepover gear, later on hiding the bruises and scars with make-up.

However, Simon didn’t know that he wasn’t the only one with family issues.

Your parents put up a facade whenever Simon came over for a sleepover with or without his sibling, having that sweet and parental attitude around them, taking care of them as if they were their children instead of you. And once Simon leaves, your parents would relish the anger and resentment onto you, baring you with multiple, questionable damages onto your body.

Your mother made sure you could no longer fathom a word with her ‘motherly love’, as she called it, unleashing her wrath onto you while your father’s form of ‘love’ lead you to being deflowered at a young age, him being the reason why you limped walking to school and why you didn’t shine bright as you did before - always feeling like filth.

Although your attitude always changes around Simon, always giving him a smile whenever he was near you, staying strong for him as he does for you.

“That doesn’t scare you, does it?” Simon gives you a wary smile while he watches you balance on the railing of the bridge, your dress being blown gently by the wind as you stick your arms out, giggling while giving him a reassuring smile.

“What’s there to be afraid of?”

“You could fall.”

“Yeah but I’m not,” you chuckle still walking on the railing like a tightrope, Simon still being paranoid as he watches you, eventually you reach the end of the bridge. You start to laugh at Simon’s protectiveness which earned you a playful glare which causes you to laugh harder, in turn, Simon starts to laugh as well. Just two kids against the world.

That was then, this is now.

You were just a Sergeant amongst the Task Force 141, they already had two Sergeants, both, capable of completing missions as a duo or a soloist, so can you but Sim- Ghost doesn’t seem to think so.

Over the years when you both grew up, Simon wasn’t as degrading as he was now, you remember the times where he’d pick you up when you fell down.

When you were back in secondary school, you and Simon had been a main target of bullying due to rumours of you homes and family, they weren’t wrong but you both weren’t going to give them the satisfaction of letting them get under your skin nor would you allow them to shit talk about Simon and vice versa.

You both cared deeply for one another, always watching each other’s back, both in and out of school grounds, knowing bullies won’t be reprimanded once they leave school gates, sure, you could tell the teacher but you both didn’t trust any adults.

However during a chase where both of you were out numbered, Simon had accidentally caught himself on the fence when he tried to crawl underneath it, it was hooked onto his right ankle, only hooking onto the sock but you were sure he had scratches underneath, the metal wire broken the material.

He looked towards you when you grabbed his sleeves and tug on it, trying to set him free but the gang were catching up and Simon didn’t want you hurt because of the fight he had started.

“Please, let me go!”

Your panicked eyes dart to him, looking at him as if he was crazy, you shake your head defying his orders while still trying to tug him free.

“It’s you and me, Si. Us against the worl—” you were cut off when you heard fabric being ripped apart and Simon was now on top of your legs, his head rested on your laps and the sounds of rushed footsteps nears the alleyway that you had escaped.

The gang leader punches the metal wire while glaring at the two of you, cursing words at you both for hitting his mate with a branch. You both looked at each other before dashing off, the distance of cursing fading and your laughs replacing the sound.

You remember it so clearly and yet you think to yourself, was any of it real?

You stood in front of Ghost, his figure looming over yours, you eyes meeting one another as both of you know that their former, young friend no longer embodies their adult skeleton, both are grown and both are different.

The years that gapped between them were long many things had changed, Ghost lost his family while you had killed yours, you knew what happened to Ghost but he didn’t know what happened to you, you were both strangers, co-workers.

Forced, co-workers.

You had been a slave to Phillip Graves and General Shepherd, you had worked for the Shadow Company, being spared by the remorseful side of Ghost that had died or who you formally known as Simon Riley - your childhood best friend, the best friend that died along with his family, the friend that disappeared, the friend that left you to fend for your own. The man that stood in front of you, today.

You glared at him and he glared at you.

“I should’ve killed you when I had the chance,” his deep, gruff voice ring into your ear.

You don’t flinch while you both have a stand off, neither one of you backing down even with the harsh words being thrown back and forth in silence, his arms folding against his chest.

He hadn’t known why he spared you, he had his knife against your throat as you were left for dead by the Shadow Company, but he kept you alive. He doesn’t understand why he did so, you weren’t Ghost’s friend, you were Simon Riley’s best friend, the part of Ghost that died and the being of his reborn self.

However he was surprised that you hadn’t reacted out towards him from abandoning you, leaving you and not contacting you after everything he had been through, not that he couldn’t, he felt it would be best if he had left your life as he was back then. Saving you from the man he has become and known of as today, but you weren’t no different, you had changed too and not only as his enemy but as the young girl he used to love deeply.

You no longer had your enchanting smile, you no longer had the glimmer in your eyes, you no longer give that hypnotic laugh when others made jokes even with the ones he would mumble out, ones you used to laugh at.

“If you know what’s good for you ‘darlin’,” you mock his accent and the little nickname that he gave you when you first reunited while waving your hand behind you, brushing off the intense gaze he had on you. “you’ll leave me alone.”

You spat at him before brushing past him, purposely bumping his broad arms due to your height, of course it didn’t phase him but you were to petty and prideful to turn away and scowl at him more. Ghost on the other hand stared at your retreating form, his gaze solemn and softer - he missed you but you weren’t you.

“I wish you would’ve told me,” he mumbles underneath his breath, unfolding his arms as he rests them at his side.

“You don’t know what you’re asking me to admit,” the echoes of your hollow words hitting him hard.

He knows what you did to your parents, he now knows the same abuse you faced when you were kids and it pained him that he never figured it out, oblivious to all the signs. Regret that he couldn’t comfort you.

“You can’t save me and just leave me to bleed, Simon,” younger you chuckle as you play dead on the ground in your parent’s backyard with a makeshift castle out of cardboard, Simon dressed up as a knight in shining armour, defeating the dragon but it had left you falling to your doom.

Simon giggles at your silliness as you play dead, he began to tickle you until you’re both chasing one another, laughing and screaming as you take turns tickling one another. Collapsing after tiring yourselves out onto the grass while you both stared up into the sky, your hands intertwined together platonically.

“We’ll always be together, right?” you smile towards Simon while he gives you a small smile back, one of his front tooth being gone.

“Always!” he chuckles.

The innocence you both shared nothing but a faded memory as you stare up at the sky, no longer the pretty blue that you remembered all those years ago, Simon was still at your side. His body laid next to yours as you both get covered in your blood, his hand holding onto yours, his mask off his head as you both lay there on the ground.

You had been shot, a vital organ being pierced through with the bullet and there was no way to save you from your demise.

You weren’t scared, you were never scared whenever you’re with Simon Riley and that’s who Ghost was now, he was your Simon Riley and you were you, no longer hiding behind a call sign. Both of you enjoying your last moments together, him dying all over again as Simon Riley and you dying as yourself all these years ago. Finally able to join your parents in the fire down below.

“You know, I thought it was never gonna end with us together,” you glances towards him, his eyes glancing towards yours, he doesn’t respond but thinks about the situation. You chuckle weakly at his lack of response, classic Simon, which makes you cough up blood.

Seeing you in this state he lightly chuckle himself as he thinks about it as Simon, no longer Ghost as he watches his childhood friend and interest, die next to him. Another painful memory to add for his nightmares and night terrors, knowing he’ll remember your face as you fade away from him, him regretting that he didn’t seek you out, protecting you from the world like all he did when he was younger. His heart was weeping and aching while he tightly held your hand, feeling the beat of your heart diminishing and your skin slowly going cold by the second.

“Maybe it could’ve, if I wasn’t such a coward,” he covers his eyes with his arm as he hides the tears that threatened to fall, maybe things would’ve been different if he had just…

“I don’t regret meeting you,” your voice hoarse while you look back up at the sky, a small smile plastered on your lips, Simon removing his arm as he looks at your features, imbedding it into his head before he loses you. “I never did.”

His heart swelled, his eyes softening, his other hand slowly placing itself on your cheek and guides it to face him. Both of your eyes locked together, the countdown of final moments starting now, you could feel yourself slipping away, away from the cruel world that you were birthed into and away from the one person you ever dared to get close to and reunite again. Both of you knew this was the end of the troublemaker duo who both fought against the world, the world fighting back to take one of them down.

“I’m still not afraid,” you whispered out, your chest slowly lifting up and down as you get weaker. “Not when I’m with you…”

Your eyelids slowly lower themselves as you give a final delicate smile, the rain slowly inviting itself into the pity party, starting out with small raindrops landing onto their bodies. Your hand’s grip slowly loosening around Simon’s but he held on tighter, though you no longer felt the tightness as your nerves fail to respond to the pain.

Simon holds his breath as he watches you take a few more slow breathes, his heart aching at the sight of you fighting for a little bit more time to be with him, to stay with him and yet he was a coward to even think of a response to say, he needed something to say. He brushes the hair that covered your beautiful face that he adored, ignoring the blood on your lips, he grazes his lips over yours, a delicate kiss for the Princess he couldn’t protect.

“I’ll see you again, even if we’re dead…”

The faint sound of your last breath cuts the air with silence, the rain pouring down onto both of you and other corpses, the blood being merged into the dirt and mud, his hands still holding onto yours, the warmth long gone. This was the true resting ground where Simon Riley had died, next to the person who he couldn’t have and never will.

Ghost stood up as he was reborn once more, this time colder, meaner and heartless.

The one he loved had his heart in their shared grave.

A/N: hehe used all the prompts as sentences, fun.

Host(s): @xxshadowbabexx

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random0lover · 1 year

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Open Wounds and War Paint

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x GN!reader

Word Count: 1,614

Warnings: Angst/no comfort, SFW, reader death(?), proclamation of love, blood, emotional shit, reader gets called dove and love, reader calls Simon baby one time.

Things to know: Should be POC friendly! If you notice anything that makes you feel otherwise please let me know! I never want anyone to feel excluded with/in my work ♡, Also a warning to anyone that decides to follow me- if you do not have your age in your bio or a pinned post I will block you… just a fair warning.

Notes: This has been sitting in my drafts for like two months now and I’m having writer's block on the main piece I’m writing and I had motivation for this so here we are! I might write a second part to this and maybe two different types, one that continues that angst/no comfort and one that is a happy ending and fluffy. This isn’t my best work and honestly I don't know how to feel about it :/

Part 1 (You’re here!) Part 2

You’re laying with your head in Ghost’s lap just thinking about things. Letting your mind wander into some saddening thoughts.

“Ghost”

“Yeah love?”

“Sometimes I’m scared I’ll never find real love.”

He doesn’t say anything but you know he’s listening, he was always listening when you spoke.

“I know I have you and the rest of the team and that we all see each other as family and I absolutely adore that, I really do.”

You pause thinking about what you want to say.

“I want someone to love me. Not my body or who I am at work. I want them to be in love with my soul and I want to love their soul right back.”

This whole time you had been picking at a loose string on Ghost's cargo pants but finally risked looking up at him and for once he’s not looking at you instead he’s staring up at the ceiling.

You look away again.

“I want to be so comfortable with the love that we have that when we wake up in the morning my first thought isn’t about how if I look okay or if I looked like I was attacked by a pack of wild dogs,” you push air out of your nose in an attempt to laugh, “I want to make myself a cup of coffee and bring them a cup of tea exactly how they like it and there be a comfortable silence. I want to watch the sun rise with them and know that they love me as much as I love them.”

You look up to find him already staring down at you, his pupils dilated to the point of almost pushing the soft molten out completely.

His thumb drifts across your cheek gently memorizing every line from the ones around your eyes from how much you always laughed to the ones that settle between your eyebrows from the amount of time you’d stressed over everyone’s safety.

The moment is interrupted though with pain filled coughs wracking your body causing your head to jostle in his lap.

The hand that’s holding your tightens.

Once the coughing stops you wipe your loose hand across your mouth and find dark red liquid on it that almost looks black.

“Simon.”

He blinks hard.

This was the first time you had used his name during a mission.

You’d only start calling him that when you were both alone on base having early morning conversations while he drank his tea and you your coffee.

You reach a hand up and slide it underneath his mask to rest it on his cheek.

“Simon promise me you’ll find a love like that.”

His eyes search yours and all he can find is love and adoration. You had lost enough blood that you were starting to go numb, your body finally taking mercy on you in your final moments.

His hand reaches up to cover the one you still have under his mask and grips it tightly almost as if he’s trying to ground himself.

You two were not alone in the room but you had already said your goodbyes to everyone else leaving Simon for last. You were worried about what your death would bring for the team, not about the consequences of anyone’s actions but the emotional stability of everyone. They already had hard times dealing with when one of their own were taken but you had yet to see their reaction to anyone that they were close to dying but you’d always imagined that you would be there for them. You would be but they wouldn’t be able to see you, you promised that you would still watch over them in death just like you did in life. You’d become their guardian angel.

Ghost never showed any weakness, he wouldn’t allow himself to after what happened to his family but somehow you wiggled your way into the heart that he thought he had locked and thrown into the deepest darkest parts of the ocean. But Ghost wasn’t the one that was present in this situation, it was Simon.

Simon, the man who knew your exact coffee order, the one that knew how annoyed you’d get at the smallest things when you were tired but you’d never take it out on anyone, the one who knew your real past, the only one you had shown your real full self too.

He knew it was dangerous to fall in love with you. Not because of your work but because he knew if he let you in he’d never be able to let you go and he was fucking terrified of that. He didn’t know who he’d become when you died and even the rest of the team was worried about that. They’d never seen him become so vicious in the field before but once he found out that you’d been hurt, it’s like all he could see was red. He took 8 men all by himself with just a combat knife and his fists. He walked away covered in blood, none of it his.

He blinks again, focusing on you, finding you smiling softly at him.

“You think too much Simon.”

He ignores that.

“Dove,” He runs a hand-covered glove across your cheek.

You drum your fingers against his hand gently at the pet name giving a soft hum.

That was his name for you in the soft moments. He claimed that you were too good, too pure, too caring to be in this line of work.

“But I already found a love like that.”

You let out a choked laugh mixing with the sound of a sob at the same time.

“I know, baby.” Under different circumstances you would’ve never let that term of endearment slip out of your mouth but in this moment you didn’t care.

You can’t help but cough again making blood splatter onto his vest, you try to wipe it off but he just grips your hand and shakes his head gently.

“I got lucky enough to find the love I was always looking for but was too chicken shit to say anything about it.” You attempt to laugh again but it only comes out in a heavy wheeze and your eyesight is starting to go slightly blurry.

You’re starting to panic. You don’t want to die. No no no no. You weren’t ready.

Another sob leaves your chest and you can see the pain in Simon’s eyes, one tear comes out sliding down his cheek and under your hand that is starting to go slightly slack.

“Simon I’m not ready,” your words are becoming slurred, “I don’t want to leave you yet.”

For once Simon didn’t know what to say, he never expected to be in this situation. You weren’t supposed to be bleeding out on a random bed in a shitty safe house waiting for evac that most likely wouldn’t make it in time. He had promised himself he would die for you, die before you. No matter what, you were supposed to be the one to outlive him, make it out of the military life to maybe one day start a family or maybe open that little bakery where you also took in cats to help them find new homes. You were supposed to make it out alive, not him. Not ghost.

He leans down pressing his forehead to yours, “It’s okay love, you don’t have to stay for me. It’s okay to let go.”

You shake your head violently trying to keep yourself awake. Keep yourself away from the warm comfort your mind was offering up to you. To focus on the man that you love.

“But Simon.”

He shushes you gently and you can feel the tears running down his cheek and under your hand. It causes the makeup around his eyes to run slowly, cleaning away the black stains, washing Ghost away and letting more of Simon be revealed.

You didn’t want to do this to him. You had finally started to see Simon come alive and you didn’t want to rip that from him.

Urgently you blink your eyes even though it’s almost like you’re staring out a foggy window and can really only see his eyes now. But that’s all that mattered, you could read everything Simon was thinking and feeling just from his eyes alone.

Pain. Anger. Sorrow.

Love.

“Simon, I need you to live for me.”

He breathes deeply, “Love—“

“No, Simon I mean it,”

“Don’t let yourself fade away.” You take a deep breath.

“I need you to find that love again.”

For some reason you remember the conversation you had only hours ago, sitting on that rooftop. Before you knew you wouldn’t make it to the next morning. You had asked him what he wanted to do after the military and at first he just shook his head. He wasn’t supposed to make it out. This was his life and it was going to be his death. You knocked shoulders with him though, you knew what he was thinking and you always threatened to kill him yourself if he ever thought of dying in the field. You told him he wasn’t allowed to die, he had to help you find the perfect spot for your coffee shop and his pub.

“Oh, and that pub you talked about opening? You should really do it.”

You smile at him gently, your eyes starting to slide shut and you can see the panic in his eyes. You didn’t want him to panic, everything was going to be okay.

You tried to tell him that, saying the words in your mind but your lips didn’t move once.

Hi my lovelies, I hope you liked this little fic! Feedback is appreciated but not necessary. Anyways I hope you all have an amazing day <3

Requests are open! I can not promise when or if I will write them but I do prefer requests that are slightly more specific as I find them a little bit easier to write but it’s not required. Thanks for reading my darlings ♡

#random0lover my writing #angst/no comfort #cod angst #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #mw2 #call of duty #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #Simon ghost Riley x GN!reader #ghost x gn reader #cod x reader #cod x gn!reader #modern warfare ii x reader #modern warefare 2 #ghost angst #hurt/no comfort

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cavinginhisfvce · 5 months

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All Things Borrowed.

A samijey drabble!

Jey knows it's selfish. He knows it's not fair to feel the way he does. He shouldn't feel like he's living on borrowed love from his boyfriend, especially not when Sami is always so willing to give Jey the affection he knows the Samoan craves.

It's selfish to take all that Sami offers, his joy, his fears, his love, and in return store those moments for when, if, that trust in Jey suddenly vanishes, instead of giving the same.

It's not fair of Jey to store the love for a later date, a day where the love has suddenly stopped flowing and he's scrambling for some semblance of things being okay. Things being right.

If Sami knew Jey was just counting down the days until the demise of their relationship, would he still bother with the man? Or would he make all of Jey's worst dreams come true and feed him to the proverbial wolves?

Wrapped up tightly in Sami's embrace, Jey can't help but feel reminded that all love is borrowed love; no matter who the love comes from.

Whether it be family or others, the boy is all too familiar with what it feels like to watch the reservoir of familial love run so dry the sight of the person makes you feel sick to your stomach.

Jey's love for Roman, for example it burned so bright, and felt reciprocated in ways that blinded him to who his cousin was becoming until it was too late, and Jey had become a person Roman held little to no love for.

Jey watched with his own eyes as the love Roman had for him ceased to exist, at least in a healthy sense.

He doesn't think he can live through a pain like that again, even if the love differs from his relationship with Roman, even if Roman went too far with his love and it cost Jey everything, seeing the way his cousin has completely done away with him and seems better for it, hurts; but the feeling pales in comparison to the mere thought that Sami could be done with him, he can't imagine who he'd become if Sami decided Jey wasn't worth the hassle. If he decided the panic attacks, and nightmares were too much to tackle, because let's face it, Jey's a handful. He knows this, and Sami, bless his heart, tries so hard with him, but he truthfully doesn't have to.

Jey knows if he shares these feelings with his boyfriend, the elder will reassure him. He knows Sami will take him in his arms and pepper his face in sweet kisses whilst he whispers all the reasons he loves Jey more than he could ever know, Sami has done as much for less.

But, there's the possibility Sami could do the exact opposite, maybe Sami just needed an out and Jey opening up would be just that. Maybe in the same breath Jey confesses his knowledge of living on borrowed love, Sami will pack his bags and leave Jey's life forever.

The likelihood seems much higher now than it did before, especially with the stolen glances from Sami and Cody, the looks they think Jey doesn't notice. He does. He noticed the lingering touches, and that Sami will seek out Cody at work, long before he finds his actual partner.

Even in his muddled mess of a mind, Jey knows he's being irrational, because just that morning Sami had woken him up by carding skilled fingers through his curls, nosing happily at the man's cheek until the latter stirred awake.

And yet, the possibility still exists.

There could come a day when Sami is no longer the glue holding Jey together, but the hammer that shatters him fully. It'd be too easy with all the cracks in the Samoan's foundation, because they're just that. Cracks in his foundation, difficult to patch up and make whole without running the risk of destroying it completely.

Jey isn't sure he'd survive that. So, he stays shut. What Sami doesn't know, won't be able to hurt Jey.

If Sami and Cody are truly falling in with one another, then Jey will pretend nothing has changed, because losing Sami? It's not an option.

He'll live on borrowed love for however long, if it means Sami stays with him.

#jey uso #sami zayn #cody rhodes #samijey #implied codysami #jey is an unreliable narrator #angst/no comfort #jey uso angst #samijey fanfiction #jey uso fanfiction #sami zayn fanfiction #jey knows all love is fleeting #he worries too much #maybe hes right to #who is to say?#jey uso drabble #sami zayn drabble #samijey drabble

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ihavenoideaz · 1 month

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somtimes I want to put tags on myself like fanfiction so people know what they're in for

#something along the lines of #---- is bad at feelings #angst/no comfort #ao3 #ao3feed #ao3 fanfic #fanfic #fan fiction #fanfic writing #fanfiction

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greykolla-art · 2 months

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My blog has become infested with angst goblins, and they must be fed with some hypothetical scenarios!🙏💚

#grey art #fan art #hazbin hotel fanart #hazbin hotel #Hazbin hotel comic #JESUS WEPT THIS FUCKING THING WAS A BEAST #BUT I LOVE IT!#hazbin charlie #hazbin alastor #Alastor #charlie morningstar #angst #hurt/comfort #whump art #I know what you people are I’m one of you!#I heard your cries for more angst and I aim to please!#also good excuse to use clip studio more #I only bust that out for something special #now let’s do something else! like eat!

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candaru · 6 months

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no no. you don't get it. the reason I injure my blorbos until they can't walk is because that's the only way they'll ever let someone else carry them. the reason I curse them to be sick and feverish is so that they'll finally open up about their emotions while delirious. the reason I force them to overexert themselves to the point of exhaustion is so that when they pass out they can finally rest.

I'm doing this for their own good.

#angst #whump #writeblr #hurt/comfort #does anybody hear me. hello #it's about forcibly stripping a character of the pride that keeps them from letting themselves be human

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allthingswhumpyandangsty · 2 months

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have you ever read a fanfic so good that you wanted to write a fanfic about that fanfic, but was too shy / too intimidated to ask for the author’s permission and too afraid that your writing wouldn’t be half as good as theirs and that it would be an insult to their work that was basically a literal masterpiece, so you just sat there fantasizing about their work and how beautiful it was and how you wished you could just eat it and how you wished canon could write your blorbos half as good as this writer did and how you just wanted to cry because you just loved that fic so much????

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maccreadysbaby · 10 months

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Some of my favorite words and phrases to describe a character in pain

coiling (up in a ball, in on themselves, against something, etc)

panting (there’s a slew of adjectives you can put after this, my favorites are shakily, weakly, etc)

keeling over (synonyms are words like collapsing, which is equally as good but overused in media)

trembling/shivering (additional adjectives could be violently, uncontrollably, etc)

sobbing (weeping is a synonym but i’ve never liked that word. also love using sob by itself, as a noun, like “he let out a quiet sob”)

whimpering (love hitting the wips with this word when a character is weak, especially when the pain is subsiding. also love using it for nightmares/attacks and things like that)

clinging (to someone or something, maybe even to themselves or their own clothes)

writhing/thrashing (maybe someone’s holding them down, or maybe they’re in bed alone)

crying (not actual tears. cry as in a shrill, sudden shout)

dazed (usually after the pain has subsided, or when adrenaline is still flowing)

wincing (probably overused but i love this word. synonym could be grimacing)

doubling-over (kinda close to keeling over but they don’t actually hit the ground, just kinda fold in on themselves)

heaving (i like to use it for describing the way someone’s breathing, ex. “heaving breaths” but can also be used for the nasty stuff like dry heaving or vomiting)

gasping/sucking/drawing in a breath (or any other words and phrases that mean a sharp intake of breath, that shite is gold)

murmuring/muttering/whispering (or other quiet forms of speaking after enduring intense pain)

hiccuping/spluttering/sniffling (words that generally imply crying without saying crying. the word crying is used so much it kinda loses its appeal, that’s why i like to mix other words like these in)

stuttering (or other general terms that show an impaired ability to speak — when someone’s in intense pain, it gets hard to talk)

staggering/stumbling (there is a difference between pain that makes you not want to stand, and pain that makes it impossible to stand. explore that!)

recoiling/shrinking away (from either the threat or someone trying to help)

pleading/begging (again, to the threat, someone trying to help, or just begging the pain to stop)

Feel free to add your favorites or most used in the comments/reblogs!

#fanfiction writer #writing angst #creative writing #writers #writing #hurt/comfort #writing tips

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cod-z · 2 months

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What Could've Been

Sadness is pouring onto me and one of the people I'm following answered a question and just said that if Price gets a canon wife, it'll break them... I- same? Like with all 141- and the others, like they're my boys...

Probably will re-write it (it was a bit rushed/is rushed)

TW: Angst/No Comfort, Mentions of being kidnapped, Ex-Poly Relationship (if you squint your eyes enough)

| One-shots |

Reblog & Likes are appreciated 🥀

Standing at the doors of the base that hid from society yet near to it that you watch, your team, your friends, your boys leave the through the doors and into their cars, half getting lifts and exiting the base. You lean against the door frame as you watch them show their cards to the guards, your hand clenching the frame tighter as they drive off into different directions, a small smile plastering your face as you heart clenches it pain and jealousy.

How you envy...

How you envy the people that they've married.

How you envy the mothers that had birthed their children.

How you envy their partners that stays with them... forever.

You leave door frame, a single, warm tear roll down your cheek as your smile flatters as you walk through the barracks, heading towards the offices of your team, peeking into their now empty rooms and reminiscing the special moments you had shared with each of them.

You heart aches.

You enter the office of Price.

It had changed over the years that you had gone missing, kidnapped by a cartel.

You entered his room with the spares keys, grazing your hands against the dark oak of his desk, tracing the small nooks and crannies, the dents, the small burnt circles from his cigars, rounding the table until your stood behind it. Taking his scent that seemed to have fade already even when he had just left with the others, you solemnly give a small smile as you look at a picture frame.

You and the squad, gathered with Los Vaqueros, smiling like idiots before you all parted ways.

That was the last you had seen them before everything had went to a spiral.

You touch the edge of the frame before seeing another one next to it, it was a picture of Price, his wife and his little girl, Vivian. Your heart clenched tightly in your chest as you bite back a sob, eyeing the picture, seeing his gentle, reassuring smile that he held towards you all your time in 141. His arm wrapping around his wife's waist while she carried their... his daughter with a bright smile. All of them smiling at you as if mocking you of what could have been.

That could've... should've been you.

You looked down at his... your, desk.

Blinking away the tears, your visions clears as only the frame of your old team sat in front of you, you clocked your eyes around the room seeing your things in there rather than Price's. Right.

It's been 3 years since they have retired to their families, you grab out your phone and checked your social media, scrolling through their posts, carefully trying not to accidentally like any of them. Checking your messages and personal direct messages, you have yet to read or reply, completely cutting them off ever since they had told you what had happened.

What could've been...

Laughs echoed round the table in the bar as you tell a joke, even getting Simon to give a deep chuckle from his chest.

Price patting your back while giving you that charming smile he always held towards you four, making you feel proud that you had made them happy within your presence and humour that you don't pay attention to what Price had to say or Soap's flirtation towards you.

You just smile at your team, your boys.

Yeah, your boys, you thought to yourself, always will be.

A/N: Bit rushed, just didn't want to cry is all XD

Divider Credit(s): @saradika

#cod-z #141 x reader #call of duty fanfiction #task force 141 x reader #call of duty x reader #cod mw x reader #cod x reader #cod x you #modern warfare x reader #Angst #no comfort #angst/no comfort #task force 141 #call of duty fanfic #cod fanfic

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h2llish · 5 months

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【╰ヾ❝ TO FALL IN LOVE ✧„

SILVER ━━━ you never knew what it was like to fall in love, until they came along. but with them, also came the new feeing of heartbreak. ☆ heavily self-indulgent, hurt/no comfort, lowercase intended, gender-neutral

there was always a part of you that made you think love, romantic love, wasn’t real, at least not for you. you believed that you couldn’t possibly love someone in the way all your friends were falling in love. it’s not like you wanted to fall in love, anyways. you were quite fine as you were, making friends and platonically loving all of them.

you remember listening to your friends' rant about their relationships, trying to understand the way they explained the moment when they noticed their feelings. you found the very topic odd, listening because you cared for them, but having no real interest in the topic at all. somehow, it always switched to the topic of how you still had yet to be in a relationship, and you always shrugged nonchalantly, and said you had never felt the pull towards anyone. it was true, you had never held feelings of romance towards anyone; not even a simple school crush like your friends have talked.

you always had to come up with some excuse or find a way to change the subject when you were a kid. now, it was easier to mention how you never felt a sort of romance toward anyone; your friends were a lot more accepting, reassuring you that they understood.

some of your friends ━ mainly one, related to you. he too, had never felt romance towards another person. you guys bonded over that, growing closer than you were with your other friends. it took you a long time, but you noticed the differences in the way you acted towards him, and the rest of your friends.

it didn't come to you in a dream. it didn't come to you in the feelings of what many had explained as butterflies in their stomach. and it didn't come to you in a flushed face and stuttered words.

it was simple, really. on a date important to people in relationships, a day spent giving chocolates to the ones you loved. a day in which you jokingly asked him to be your other half for the day. and when he accepted with noticeably pink cheeks and a soft smile, it caused you to pause and quickly pull out your phone. you remember speaking to a few friends, those who you were close to and understood you, almost, as much as he did. they helped you slowly come to terms with the fact that, yes, you were romantically attracted to him, and that it was okay to feel a little scared at the sudden realization that you could feel what everyone else can; if maybe a little differently.

it was terrifying, really, suddenly realizing that you had been harboring feelings for him. and you weren't even sure for how long. and it was just as terrifying when your friends urged you to tell him. and it was even more terrifying when you agreed. why'd you agree?

perhaps it was all your fault; you rushed too quickly to tell him about the sudden feelings you only just realized. feelings you were still questioning and trying to come to terms with. perhaps it was your fault, for how overbearing you were; you realized during your time with him, that your love was a suffocating love. perhaps it was your fault, for how hard you found it difficult to openly love someone, fearing that you would make a mistake; that you would turn out like some people in your life you'd rather not talk about.

you weren't ready to love someone, that much was obvious. and so, it must've been your fault.

you were sitting at your desk in your room, fingers tapping against the wood and twirling your pen on your finger. you were focusing on a difficult equation when your phone went off, buzzing against your desk and startling you.

you grabbed it, unlocking it to check, when a grin spread across your face, and you quickly disregarded your pen to speak to your boyfriend, who had been the one to interrupt your study time.

[name]?

hi, my love

are you busy?

you frowned, suddenly feeling a heavy feeling weigh on your chest. but you chose to shake it off; it was nothing. everything is fine.

not rlly. just studying. is everything okay?

i want to talk, but if you're busy i don't want to distract you.

it's alright. i can take a break.

are you sure?

yup!

so we can talk? we need to.

oh, you really didn't like that.

of course. you okay?

i'm outside.

you quickly stood from your desk, rushing over to your window far quicker than you intended to, tripping over your feet before you clumsily pulled the curtains back to glance outside. and true to his word, your boyfriend was standing outside, gripping his phone and looking the slightest bit uncomfortable. you blinked, a bit shocked to see him; he lived quite far, so you suspected he didn't take into account that you might've been busy with anything.

whatever it was he needed to talk to you about must be too important to say over text.

you shook your head rather harshly, trying to fight off the thoughts that began to eat at you. no, everything is fine.

you quickly made your way out of your room and to the front door, not wanting him to wait any longer than he already had. you opened the door, to be met with your boyfriend waiting almost anxiously ━ how odd, he was never anxious, at least not enough to be noticeable.

"silver?" you called, and he nodded at you in greeting, "come in━"

"no, it's fine." silver shook his head, bowing it soon after, "you'll probably want me to leave after this, anyway."

oh.

"what do you mean?" you voice came out shockingly steady despite the way your heart began to race, and your palms began to sweat. there was no denying it, you knew exactly where this was going. so this is how it feels.

"listen [name], i know i should've told you sooner. but i was confused. i wanted to understand before i came to you."

great start; the voice in your head snarked.

"i know how random this must be for you, i'm sorry." he looked at you and you wondered what you looked like to him; did you look cold? you felt cold. "i like you, i do. but i don't think it's romantic anymore. i think that went away a while ago, but i was just trying to convince myself that the feelings were still there because i didn't want to hurt you. but i realize i'm only hurting you even more by staying in this relationship. i think you're amazing, and i want to stay friends, but a relationship just isn't for us, for me."

you remember reading so many things about situations like this. how the character always cried, or chokingly asked why. but you didn't feel anything, you were just numb; your heart was no longer racing, and your eyes were dry. you just stared at him for a moment, taking in his words.

perhaps he was expecting a more memorable breakup, one where you started to tear up and question continuously about when and why. and a part of you did to, you expected to feel your heart physically break in your chest (and maybe it did, and you just hadn't felt it). you expected your eyes to start a never-ending stream of tears, but that never happened.

you nodded and hummed. calm? maybe. it seemed like it. but you couldn't even tell yourself.

"i understand." you said, and silver stared at you, eyebrows furrowed, "thank you for telling me." you grabbed the door handle and closed the front door halfway, "we can stay friends. i'm okay with that." ━ (are you, though?) "i just ask that you give me some space for now."

how are you doing this? aren't you supposed to be hurt? why aren't you acting like you weren't just panicking after he asked you to talk? why aren't you showing how worried you were when you realized where he was going with his words the moment you answered the door? why do you feel so numb?

"of course." silver nodded.

"thank you." you whispered, nodding at him again, "bye." you didn't even give him a chance to return it before you were shutting the door.

you stood there for a moment, hand on the doorknob and eyes narrowed. why aren't you crying? isn't that the normal response to something like this?

but maybe it's because you expected it far before this moment; you weren't a person someone could love. you know that. you knew that the moment you and him started your relationship.

you didn't cry, but you think your heart did break; just like the books would say. except it was silent, unnoticeable.

you really did love him. your first love; one you loved hard. and you guys hadn't even been together that long.

ah, of course this was the outcome. it was your fault. maybe being in love just wasn't for you.

this shit is heavily self-indulgent. idk why i chose him, he just seemed to fit my ex's role ig. unlike reader though, i didn't get to see them in person. screw long distance relationships.

do not repost, translate, copy or run my writing through an ai

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imfinereallyy · 8 months

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you can pry happy endings from my cold-dead hands. It can be the most heart stopping, gut wrenching fic that has every existed and I will read every drop of it if I get my happy ending. I have had enough painful endings in real life, give me happy in my fantasy world. It can be at the last second, it can be a single sentence, even a single word. Give me all the angst and hurt in the world for 500,000 words, but please give me the comfort I need in the ending. please and thank you.

#do I love angst? yes. but also need to be happy in my delulu world for five seconds #sometimes you need domestic fluff to soothe the burn #fan fiction #ao3 #hurt/comfort #steddie #stranger things #lumax #byler #ronance #steve harrington #Eddie Munson #archive of our own #wattpad #robin buckley #steve x eddie #happy endings

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yawnderu · 3 months

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Simon lets out a deep chuckle as he sees your daughter pick flowers from the light, clean grass, her tiny hands barely even managing to gather enough strength to get the stems out of the ground.

“C'mon, that's enough.” His voice is patient, calloused hands picking his daughter up as he brings her up to his chest, a small smile when he sees her holding onto the flowers for dear life, giggles leaving her lips as he starts bouncing her while they walk.

It became a routine, in a way, for Simon to bring his daughter whenever he visits his family. She's too young to understand, so pure, so untainted from the dangers of the world, always kept safe by Simon and you, yet he can't fight off the urge to make his family see her.

He walks for a few minutes, enjoying the chilly air while his daughter cuddles up to him, one of her tiny hands gripping his jacket, while the other one is still holding onto the flowers. He stops in front of a set of four graves, the familiar pit of dread setting deep within him starts to come out, shaky hands managing to gently put the little girl down on the cold ceramic.

Mrs. Riley.

If love could have saved you, you would have lived forever.

Simon was hiding his hurt quite well, managing to sit down next to his little girl, one hand on her back as she started crawling around, finally setting the flowers down.

“Mum?” His voice is quiet, almost cracking, as if he was the scared little boy his mother defended with her life. His daughter looks up at him with curious brown eyes, sitting down and entertaining herself with her own onesie.

“I remember telling you I'd never settle down because I could never get as lucky as Tommy and Beth...” He dragged out, gaze going down to the ring on his finger, the physical representation of your union.

“You've met my wife before, and now I want you to see my kid too.” He's barely managing to speak, words coming out rough and choked up as his hand caresses his daughter's thin hair, making him pause just to examine her features. She's a tiny carbon copy of him, a lovely nose and a set of brown eyes that will never see the horrors he lived.

“She's a proper daddy's girl, but you would've loved each other.” He's sure of it. His mum was always so lovely, so nurturing. A true angel on earth with way too much forgiveness and patience for her own good.

He picks his daughter up, planting a soft kiss on her forehead. Simon thought he cried all his tears when he was a little boy, yet his nose is starting to sting, vision getting blurry for a few seconds until a choked sob manages to escape his lips. He's quick to wipe any tears away, simply trying to focus on the peace and quiet the cemetery offers, his hand running up and down his daughter's back, patting it softly just to hear that little giggle that seems to always repair his broken soul.

“All of you would've loved her, shy little thing she is.” He sniffles again before a quiet laugh leaves his lips, smiling despite the way his eyes are still filled with tears threatening to spill at any moment.

“I'm quittin' the SAS soon, don't want her to grow up without a father. The wife's happy about it, too.” Simon lets out a small sigh, looking down at the graves of his family, all buried next to each other. He shakes his head softly, his free hand quickly wiping off his tears before he goes back to holding his daughter, rocking her with care.

“I'll come back with her next time, jus' wanted to talk to you today. Let you meet this lovely girl.” Big brown eyes meet his gaze, instantly cheering him up despite everything. He pinches his cheek softly only for the little girl to smack his hand away with a giggle, only making his smile grow wider at how hot-heated she is. Just like her mother.

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chuluoyi · 7 months

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fear

- gojo satoru x reader

his best friend’s defection is still a hard topic for him to swallow, and it leads into an unexpected argument that spurs you to leave, only to unlock a new fear in him when you get into an unfortunate accident afterwards.

genre/warnings: angst, gojo being mean, one scene with a worried nanami *wink*, injured reader, hurt/comfort, fluff in the end

notes: *sigh* my coping mechanism is still gojo’s past arc, which is why this piece takes place on that timeline. just a little context: reader is in the same class with nanami & haibara and was in the same mission that took haibara's life. this is probably the longest oneshot i've written so far sooo… enjoy! :)

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

A year and a half had passed since Suguru embarked on his path as a curse user. In that one year and a half, Satoru had finished his last year at Jujutsu High, and now was in the halls of his alma mater, speaking to the newly appointed headmaster who was none other than his teacher.

"You're applying to become a teacher?" Yaga asked again with a frown. He still couldn't wrap his head around it. Granted, he was his most troublesome pupil. "Why, Satoru?"

"If I said it's because I want to train young sorcerers to be strong, would you believe me?"

That was not a lie. It was actually 50% of his main reasons anyway. The other 50% was to repent what he missed with Suguru when he chose his dark path—his contempt with the current system of this jujutsu world.

"I would," Yaga responded gruffly. To him, Satoru was irritating, but he also knew that he was also extremely capable, and thus everything he did wasn't just out of nowhere. "But you still have to submit your applications. We can't make an exception even if you come from a prestigious clan."

"That's fine with me," he grinned. "Thanks, sensei."

On summer days, he'd get reminded of Suguru and silly things they had done together. Eating shaved ice, cycling together, driving either you, Shoko or Nanami mad. Satoru missed those days, it hadn't been the same ever since. Not knowing if his best friend was alright—if he was still alive at all—was exhausting.

Sometimes, he felt like he was the only one who was affected by his departure, the only one who stayed right where Suguru left him. Shoko didn't seem ruffled, if anything she just went to more bars and pachinko parlors as of late. Nanami was always a recluse, he never disclosed his feelings. You mourned him, but it was clear that most part of you would always be more focused on Haibara's death.

Satoru understood that he couldn't force anyone to feel what he felt, and he had no right to. But sometimes, he just wanted someone to connect with at his level. Someone to get him just like Suguru did.

And so when he got back to his condo that night—just right next to the one he rented for Megumi and Tsumiki, since he had moved out of his dorm—to find his girlfriend there with a big smile and a tray of cupcakes, unaware of everything and anything, he merely scoffed to himself.

"Satoru, you're back," you acknowledged, beaming like the sunshine you were. "I just baked these for the kids. Do you want some?"

Usually he'd smother you, throw some pickup lines here and there and say yes, but today, he just felt drained. "No." And with that, he stalked away to the bathroom, not glancing back at you.

It was wrong. But tonight he just wanted some peace and quiet, and so keeping his silence seemed to be the best choice as he didn't want to start a pointless argument with you. But you weren’t anything but observant, and definitely noticed that something was amiss with him.

"Are you... alright?" You approached him warily after he came out of the bathroom with wet hair. "Where were you today?"

"Just somewhere," he replied curtly. Afterwards he turned on the hairdryer, drowning the whole place with the noise even as you stood behind him with a visible question mark.

But you were still there after he dried his hair. "Is something bothering you?" you asked with a tilt of your head, concerned. By all means, you mean well. You just wanted to know if he could use your help at all.

When you pulled that expression, he couldn't help feeling annoyed, like he wanted you to take a hint, but you just didn't. "If you know, then just shut it."

It was probably the first time since the two of you got together that Satoru actually said something harsh. But you still tried to be reasonable though, bless you.

"Satoru, I don't know what got into your nerves like this, but I think sleeping through it might help. Have a rest."

"Why are you talking as if you know it?" he snapped, finally turning to you with his cold gaze. "You might not know anything, so don't be a know-it-all. Just mind your own business."

Now you were frustrated with his reply. "Once again, I don't know what happened to you. But if you're taking it out on me because I'm the closest you have—"

"Who said that?" Satoru didn't know where he got all this venom from. It was just at the forefront of his mind and he just got the urge to spew it. "You're considering yourself closest to me? Where did you get that big head from?"

You were aghast, and you blinked a few times to get your bearings. "Let me guess, it's about Geto-san, isn't it? Or the higher ups. Either of that must be what causing you to blindly place your anger on me."

"So what if it was? It isn't like you'll understand anyway."

"Satoru," you started, trying to even your breathing. "What happened to Geto-san isn't your fault. I've been telling you this. It can't be helped—"

"Can't be helped?" he jeered. "Do you know why it has come to this?" his tone took a dangerous edge as he stepped closer. He reached for you, grasping your wrist.

"Maybe because I was too blind back then. If it weren't for you—if only I didn't spend that much time on you, maybe he would still be here."

Did he just say that? Did he just imply that he had regretted the two of you getting together?

You felt your lower lip start to tremble and something seemed to obscure and blur your vision, making it hard to see him clearly. "You... don't mean that."

"Really?" the corner of his lips curled into a disparaging smile. "You never know. Before you know it, this can be over already. After all, I could have anyone out there that I want. Maybe someone less nosey than—”

That did it. You wrenched your arm out of his grip violently, as your first tear fell. His smirk vanished too, replaced with a total stillness to cover his sudden panic that was followed by a sudden sinking feeling at the pit of his stomach.

"You selfish, self-obsessed jerk," you hissed through watery eyes. He was taken aback, even amidst your anger and possible fear of him, your still managed to throw daggers at him. "Fine. You have it. I'll see myself out."

Satoru never wanted you to leave. Honestly, he would've made you stay. But he wasn't in the right state of mind and it was too late to take back what he said. He didn't want to mess this up even further.

You left the cupcakes, even throwing it away just to spite him. Driven by pain and humiliation, you choked back your sob and didn't spare a glance at him as you shut the door.

Peace and quiet. There he had it, he thought as he clenched his fists, at the cost of everything else.

Leaving that condo, every step you took felt like needles piercing your shattered heart. You wiped your tears roughly. No, you refused to cry over such asshole. He made it clear, didn't he? Whatever it was that you two shared, it was at the cost of his best friend leaving him. So now the blame was on you.

If you were thinking clearly, you would've understood that his words were likely a result of his own pent-up pain and frustration that he had kept to himself for some while. But you had no patience for that or even pinpoint what you felt right now—anger, disappointment or dread, or perhaps all three. You just felt wrongly accused.

Your feet brought you back to your dorm in the school. Now it wasn't as bustling as it once were. After Satoru and Shoko's graduation, you didn't really get close to anyone. There was Ichiji, but he treated you more like a mentor rather than a classmate.

As you sank into the comforts of your bed, You replayed the events, trying to find where it went wrong—and found nothing. After all, you had already said all that could be said. It wasn't just him who lost Geto, but you, Shoko and Nanami did too, but it was more convenient for Satoru to blame everyone else rather than trying to understand that they too shared this pain.

Nevertheless, you were disappointed. You didn't expect half of what he spouted, and it got you doubting everything you had.

"You've royally fucked up."

Satoru exhaled, glaring at Shoko through the corner of his eyes. "Yeah, maybe."

The reverse cursed technique user threw him a blank stare, taking in everything from his disheveled hair to his wrinkled trousers. "Gojo, as much as I can’t care less about your sorry ass, I'm saying this not out of concern for you, but rather for Y/N. You are an asshole."

The puff of smoke she blew expanded to create a cloud-like shape. "Yaga-sensei was our teacher. His student is now a mass murderer and wanted dead. Can you even imagine how he feels? And I can't believe I'm saying this—but weren't there three of us?"

A week had gone by and instead of doing the right thing like trying to get into your good graces, Satoru was in Shoko's infirmary in the headquarters instead. He didn't exactly know what he was looking for by going here. Maybe some lingering taste of his happier student days, and Shoko was the only one remaining.

Three of us, huh... she was right. That was precisely why he came here after all.

"You're just sulking because it seems no one cares about your best friend being the best there is. But have you thought about how our juniors also lost Haibara? Right in front of their eyes? Haibara was our friend too."

He was wrong, of course he was. Satoru realized that now. But it felt wrong to ask for your forgiveness now, not to mention the disrupting thought he had—should he let you go for good altogether?

The phone suddenly rang with such fervor that made Shoko utter a swear word. She was on call duty for the rescue team today, and it was supposedly a peaceful day until Satoru decided to barge in to become her company. "Hello? Ichiji? What—speak clearly, I can't hear you."

She switched it to loudspeaker. "...iri-san! Ieiri-san—h-help—please—"

It was noisy, and blaring at the same time, and Ichiji was... Sobbing? Choking? His voice was terribly muffled and—

"L/N-san!" he cried, and Satoru remembered at that moment that you should be in a mission with Ichiji, he remembered you telling him before.

"Hic—s-she fell... hic—she fell! B-blood! She i-is bleeding so much! I-Ieiri-san—hic—s-send help! Please!"

"Hey, stay awake. Breathe. Just breathe."

Everything hurt. Most notably, your head. You could hardly think straight when all you felt was blinding pain and how your breaths came in short wheezes.

Your vision was blurry. The numbness had started to set in and chills ran up and down your spine. You couldn't make out who in front of you was. Was it Ichiji, who went with you in this mission? The only thing that glared was blue.

"You can't sleep, you hear me?" the voice was commanding, willing you to do his bidding. It was familiar, but usually his tone of voice was much lighter, happier.

Satoru.

But why was he here? He wasn't in this mission. It was supposed to be a mission for you and Ichiji.

You remembered getting the cursed spirit after manifesting your domain expansion, until in its last ditch attempt, it went after Ichiji. You had no choice—even when your cursed energy had burned out, you still shoved him away at the cost of being flung from the top of a building.

Not again. Not after Haibara. You’d gladly pay the price if it meant you didn't have to see anyone die in front of you again.

"I..." You managed to croak out—breathing hurt, and you felt your hands being grasped tightly.

"Hey, just breathe. Y/N. Look at me.” Through your blurry haze, you focused on that cold blue, and you saw him. Satoru's sharp eyes, pursed lips and frown. He's really here.

Satoru always said that if there was a cursed spirit apocalypse, then Ichiji would be the first to die. You used to scold him for that, but now as you a laid here possibly dying in your own pool of blood, you found it to be true.

Yet at the same time you knew that with him here, Ichiji must be safe already, and it gave you reassurance so great even when you were on the verge of dying. "I... can't..."

"Yes, you can. Just look at me," he firmly rebuked, his voice came out in a hiss. For all the time you had been with him, you had never heard him so forceful. "If you close your eyes now, I won't forgive you. So please, just hang in there."

It was a struggle to take in any air and darkness encroached on your vision as your consciousness began slipping away.

And everything faded to nothingness.

Satoru honestly thought he had no fears. His worst fear had fully realized after all—Suguru going away into the darkness. What more could he possibly fear?

But when he heard Ichiji's distress call for rescue team, about how you fell from a rooftop of a building and unconscious, he realized that it was a fear he didn't know existed. His mind got disoriented and he teleported to the scene on impulse. He just had to see it for himself. With their petty argument still lacking closure, he felt even worse.

And the sight before him gave him so much fright he never thought was possible.

It was a mistake, he should have brought Shoko along.

You had laid there like a broken doll, your eyes dimmed, and not been able to breathe. He desperately tried to keep you awake, his presence beside you, yet it didn't seem to matter. He watched helplessly as you passed out in his arms.

Satoru felt nothing. The panic that had set in was suddenly gone as your limp body slumped against him, replaced by incessant ringing in his ears and tremor wracking his nervous system. It wasn't long until the rescue team came to retrieve you and even then he still felt numb. He rejected the idea that you might possibly die on him.

That went on until Shoko, who assisted in the emergency treatment, came out of the surgery, sweat on her forehead.

"It's even worse than the aftermath of the guardian deity mission last year," Shoko explained with a grim expression. "Her brain has sustained damage and it affects everything. It may take her quite a while before she can go back to the field."

When she said that, Satoru felt terror washed over him again. You almost died—was all he perceived.

The two of you had no contact for a week just because of his ego. He could still recall that day with vivid clarity, feeling a burning ache in his chest. If someone were to ask him what heartbreak was like, now he certainly would he able the to tell them the two instances in which he experienced them. What he felt now mirrored the same stinging sensation he had felt when Suguru left him.

He visited you when he was allowed to, and you were still unconscious, with many machines connected to your body. It was a sight he still couldn’t bring himself to get used to. He had seen you injured before, but never seen you in your own pool of blood, so this made him feel sick to his stomach.

"Stupid," he whispered, gently rubbing your forehead. His eyes remained fixated on you as you rested, his insides still churning with emotions. "You're not weak, and you're not hopeless." Once upon a time, Satoru might have thought of you as weak, but now he knew better.

"So why you always pick the worst decision?" The more he thought this could've been avoided, the more irked he was. The thought that he could have done something to prevent it intensified the sting of guilt, and he continued to punish himself with it.

And the more he dwelled on the idea that he had hurt you prior to this, the tighter his breath became.

But that was who you were. Self-sacrificing to a fault. And he loved you for that. There was no way of him letting you go now.

It astonished even himself—that he was capable of this love thing. At first it was an attraction, but now that you had been going on for more than a year, it felt like it was no longer a silly infatuation after all.

"Hurry and wake up, will you?" Satoru gently brushed your hair aside, his eyes fixed on you. He didn't know it even as his gut twisted, his frown deepened and his touch quivered, that he was worried sick. "I have a lot to make up for."

And he left you with a tender brush of his lips against your forehead.

Nanami Kento was the first person you saw when you awoke from coma.

You struggled to regain your senses, still feeling absolutely broken. The dull throb on the back of your head was still there, and as if you had found yourself trapped in a fog, you were only able to move sluggishly.

"You're awake?" his gruff voice greeted, laced with concern. In his hand were a bucket of fresh flowers and fruits basket, which he soon placed at the table next to your bed.

It was unexpected, because ever since the tragedy that costed Haibara's life, the two of you had been drifting apart.

You nodded, and let out a hum in response—all you could manage at the moment.

"Thank God." Nanami sounded relieved as he pinched the bridge between his eyes, and you were moved that he had shown this degree of concern.

Your remaining classmate, who suffered the burden of Haibara's life just like you. He was always quiet or brooding somewhere, hiding his own feelings.

You felt tears pricking the corner of your eyes. The fact that he visited you meant that he hadn't decided to cut you out of his life yet.

"Gojo-san is out today, but he'll be back by afternoon," he said, mistranslating your tears as some sort of a want to have your annoying—ex?—boyfriend at your side.

The two of you were still not on talking terms, weren’t you?

You so badly wanted to say thank you to him—and tell him that no, you weren't looking for Satoru—but it came out hoarse and barely above a whisper.

"Huh?" Nanami then realized what you were trying to say, and a faint smile graced his lips. "Just... get well soon, L/N. Have a good rest."

Just before you drifted back to sleep, you could hear him sigh and mutter, "Hello, Gojo-san? L/N has awakened. Just letting you know is all.”

You weren't sure how much time had passed when you woke up the second time, but the curtains were already drawn and only darkness came from the window. Your body felt lighter, but you still felt like a mess and and couldn't help but groan in discomfort.

Satoru was there, he perked up at the noise you made. And you realized that it was the first time in about a week that he faced you after that disasterous almost-breakup.

He walked up to you, his expression was more hopeful than you had ever seen him before, like a kid whose wish had been granted. He slowly shifted to sit beside you.

"Hey, welcome back." His voice was soft. It was a change of pace for him, as you were used to seeing him all loud and silly.

Now your voice no longer sounds like a lead. "Hey."

"How are you feeling?" he asked and you took a moment to look at him. He was smiling, but exhaustion reached his bright eyes, dimming them. "You know, with the whole you passing out and almost dying thing?"

His words were almost humorous as he spoke, like he didn't know what else to say except try to lighten the mood, but there was also a strain on his tone, like he was holding back.

"I'm quite fine now, I suppose..." You still felt the lingering pain and dizziness as you slowly sat up. Satoru reached out to steady you—and you realized how his fingers trembled when they made contact with your body—as his brows furrowed with worry when you winced.

"You don't look like it though." His voice dropped and the humor was gone, replaced by this haunted look. You blinked. It was probably the first time you had seem him this ruffled.

He immediately pulled you into a hug, cradling your head to his neck gently, as if to protect and shield you from the world altogether. Exhaling heavily, he leaned on you. "You scared me, you know that?"

You wondered out loud if you really had that hold over him. "Did I?"

"You can't do that to me, you hear?" Satoru stroked your hair, nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck. His voice quivered. “Don't ever do that again.”

He pulled you tighter against him, but still careful not to crush you.

You let out a snicker, letting go of everything you felt during this horrible week. "Heh, afraid to lose me, huh?"

"Shut up,” he grumbled. “What were you thinking anyway? How did you calculate that freefalling is better than letting that cursed spirit attack Ichiji?”

"He was defenseless. He could die, you know that."

"And you also can," he quipped, upset, pulling away enough to look you squarely in the eyes, his eyes devoid of any expression, yet filled with a raging wave that you could only interpret as undiluted concern.

The emphasis in his tone made you recoil and feel guilty. If you were in his shoes, you probably would've said the same thing and so you had nothing to say to that.

But the more pressing agenda in the list was the unspoken silent treatment the two of you saw fit to use against each other for the last few days. Satoru was the one who decided to address it first.

"About that night..." he faltered, looking away. "I didn't mean what I said. I'm sorry."

Satoru always had trouble processing emotions. This time too. He must've a hard time dealing with the anxiety caused by the possibility of him losing you for good, no matter how much he tried to be unaware of it.

"..." You wanted to respond, to make him understand your point, but somehow right now you were just too weary. And he sensed your reluctance. So you blurted the first thing that gnawed at your mind.

“You said you could have any other women out there—”

"No, really—" he started to panic, and it was blatantly too, which surprised you. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Us. I don't regret anything. I’m not breaking up with you. Being with you is the happiest I've been ever since Suguru left."

“That's...” you blinked, before letting out a small sigh. “Okay. Fine then. Let's just put it behind us for now.”

“I—” he almost wheezed, his bright blue eyes were overtaken with sheer urgency to explain how wrong everything had been that night. “You must know that I didn’t mean any of it. And that I hate hurting you the way I did. I won’t—”

"Satoru, I understand," you let out another sigh, fidgeting with your fingers. "Sometimes when I’m reminded of Haibara, I also get sad. I don't want to presume but I think I know how you feel. Just next time, maybe," you shifted your gaze on him, seeing how you had his attention fully. Gojo Satoru, the strongest now, was looking at you as if you had his fate in your hands. "Just tell me if you need space and I would have understood."

"Yeah, okay, sure," he responded immediately, relieved, before a lopsided grin appeared on his face, turning him back into your dork slash boyfriend. "So, am I forgiven now?"

"A thank you would be nice."

In the end, he chuckled, seemingly resigned. "You should sleep more."

He positioned himself into bed next to you, and you let him pull you into his chest again. You could feel how his taut back started to relax upon the contact. He pressed his lips on your forehead in a fleeting kiss.

"Promise me you won't pull that stunt again.”

You smirked. "I can't. What if Ichiji—"

"Then just let him die."

You swatted his arm playfully, pressing your head to his chest as he continued to run his fingers on your hair. He cushioned you carefully, and you felt the tension in him slowly melt away with each breath you took. In your mind, you figured he needed this closeness more than you did, if anything, for the sake of his sanity.

“I love you,” he whispered by your ear, kissing it lightly.

“Mmhm.”

As you felt Satoru's calming presence, it helped ease you into slumber. You soon found yourself in a deep sleep, comfortably held in his embrace.

Epilogue

Ichiji gulped as Satoru stared him down, sizing him up as if he was the most despicable creature on this planet.

Okay, he might be. He was a coward, all he could do was trembling in the face of evil. But he had come in peace, even bringing fruits as an offering! He felt bad too that he was the partial cause for you to be this injured.

He was used to Satoru terrorizing him—calling him names, slapping him, and whatnot—and he could take it. Just this time, he really looked like he could murder him on the spot if he wanted to. A small part of Ichiji mourned that you were his girlfriend, because that pretty much sealed his fate that Gojo Satoru could indeed murder him on the spot because he had a valid enough reason to.

"You are—"

"No! I'm sorry, Gojo-san! I'm sorry for my incompetence!"

"Hah?"

If he was mildly irked before, now Satoru was visibly irritated.

"You're not cut out to be a jujutsu sorcerer," he started. "You're useless. You just get in the way most of the time."

Ichiji kept his head down. No, no. He can't cry!

"Get your driving license or I'll slap the shit out of you."

"Oh?" and before he knew it, Satoru had stalked away, leaving him in the dust. How rude! But...

Get a driver license? Quit the jujutsu work?

Hey, that sounds like something I can do!