#broken hearts

[lunadiluana]

“We all have one foot in a fairytale, and the other in the abyss.” Paulo Coelho

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

𝔩𝔶𝔬𝔫𝔨𝔦𝔡.𝔞𝔯𝔱

[rosemary-morgan]

Javier Escuella X F.Reader - It's never to late to repent (Part 4) 18+

(Pictures found on pinterest/google. That one with Javier is mine. Collage made by me 🌺)

Many thanks to @fangirl-ramblings 🖤 she has been beta reading for me 🌹

The 4 Part is online 🥰 thanks to all who read and like my story 🐝🌺 I hope you will enjoy the this chapter too!

Tag list: @fangirl-ramblings @rose-of-black-blood @livingdeadgirly @coaxium-captain-rex @12timetraveler @butterballchannie @charlesjaviersimp @ashethesimp @planetahmane @snoowply @sylum @noodle-tm @karmashatty @nadnad09 @lill2350 @slightlyexpiredyogurt8 @natnuszsstuff @boniscute @books-arebetterthan-boys @pedropascalluvr69 @blackrosegarden6 @sie-werden-nie-vergessen @inlovewithjavierescuella

If anyone of you want to be tagged to not miss the newest chapter, please let me know 🙏 If you want me to take you off the list, please tell me

And sorry if there are errors with the Spanish words. Please tell me if so. Thanks 🖤

👉Read part 1 / part 2 / part 3

Warning: Nsfw 18+! Very erotic stuff y'all, trigger moments, angst

Summary: The love between you had never stopped and your nights are now again marked by passion. But there is a dark secret that you can not tell Javier. Not yet, for it would break his heart. Now that you had found each other again, you didn't want to risk it all. But he has a right to know…

Javier Escuella X F.Reader - It's never to late to repent (Part 4) 18+

You still couldn't believe that Javier was standing in front of you. Just when you were about to throw all your hopes overboard, a small miracle happened. Javier's eyes sought your gaze and you could clearly see that he was afraid of your reaction. He was very tense, but how could you refuse him now? After you had so ardently wished that he would come and see you?

"I… um, Y/N, listen, I know… this…"

The words were stuck in his throat, because he really didn't know what to say. How was he supposed to find the right words either?

"I needed to see you, Y/N… But… I understand if you have finally lost your patience with me. I understand if…"

You approached him without words and the next moment you threw yourself into his arms. Full of relief, he closed his eyes, his arms immediately wrapped around your body and he hugged you tightly. He immediately buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply. God, how he had missed your lovely scent!

"Javier…"

Your voice trembled as you whispered his name. Your hands clawed desperately at his raven black hair as your tears ran unstoppably down your face. You heard Javier sigh softly, followed by a quiet sob before he swallowed.

"Y/N… I'm sorry…" he whispered against your neck and you could feel his tears wetting your skin. His warm, strong body nestled against yours made you feel safe and secure.

You looked straight into his eyes as he took hold of your tender face and begged you again to forgive him.

"Lo siento mucho, Y/N!"

His cheeks grew quite warm, the tears ran inexorably down his face. So much pain, so much sorrow and regrets were on his face. Too many emotions to cope with.

"I have caused you so much grief."

But instead of facing him with anger and hatred, you just smiled through tears. The time for scorn was long gone and everything you wanted, you now had. Your dearest Javier had returned.

Gently you placed your hands on his, your lips were so close, you could feel each other's warm breath.

"I've only ever thought of you, Javier. All these years…"

And that was when Javier couldn't take it anymore and without warning, he kissed her. Instantly, your knees went all soft, blissful lap through your whole body.

"How could I ever forget you?" whispered Javier, before kissing you longingly again, brushing the strands of your hair from your face.

Words of love filled your house and every single word came from the depths of your soul. From two people who had suffered immensely without the other. Neither of you ever wanted to be apart again.

"Te quiero! Te quiero mucho, Y/N! Yo nunca dejé de amarte!"

And you had never stopped loving him either. This moment seemed like a beautiful dream and you were so afraid of letting go of Javier. You were afraid that this beautiful moment could burst like a soap bubble. It wouldn't be bearable for you a second time.

"I love you, Javier."

Desperately you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and Javier held you tightly, enveloping you with his arms like the wings of an angel.

Suddenly he knelt in front of you, wrapped his arms around your middle and he pressed his face against your stomach, sighing heavily and you could feel that he was trembling. Javier could do nothing, his tears would not end. You lovingly stroked his black hair. Good God, how much time you had lost… how much had been taken from you…

When Javier looked up to you, his eyes were filled with warmth and trust. As his warm hands laid on your tender arms, you suddenly felt hot and deepest excitement shot through your body. His touch felt so damn good and you closed your eyes for a moment, your heart pounding like crazy.

"Javier…"

"Y/N…"

Javier whispered your name, rising from his spot. He stood close to you, his warm breath brushing your cheek. His hands squeezed your arms and you gasped, closing your eyes. A lustful sigh escaped your lips as Javier gently pressed your body against his.

"The nights were so cold… so lonely without you, mi rosa…" he whispered hoarsely against your lips and you thought you would lose your mind at any moment. Between your legs was tingling like crazy and you wanted, no, you needed his touch, his lips, his body…

His lips gently brushed your cheek and you could hear how aroused he was too.

"I've dreamed of this moment so many times, Y/N," Javier groaned in your ear and he closed his eyes, breathing in your seductive scent, burying his face in the crook of your neck with a deep sigh. Carefully you wrapped your arms around his neck, letting the wave of pleasure take you for good.

"The warmth of your body, the taste of your lips… I almost went crazy without you…"

His fingers ran over your arms as he said this.

"Javier…"

As his hand gently touched your cheek, you leaned into his touch. Javier had always been tender and you had missed that feeling so much. His beautiful eyes took in every little detail of your face. Your shapely lips, the long lashes and your eyes that shimmered with tears.

"Your touches, your kisses…. I missed them so much, Javier…"

And that was never to be again, Javier had told himself. Yet when your lips met, your kiss instantly ignited like a fire. Javier reached for the hem of your dress, pushing it up, his hand roaming over your bare thigh. You were wearing long white stockings, fastened with a small bow to hold to your thigh. His fingers gently clawed into your firm flesh, full of desire for you. He had always had a weakness for long stockings and he liked the idea of stripping you down to them and making love to you.

His lips detached from yours, rather he let his mouth slide over your throat. Moaning softly, you let your head fall back, enjoying this erotic moment.

"Ahh… Javier…" Your hands claw into his hair as Javier greedily tasted the skin on your throat, gently biting into your flesh…

♦♦♦♦

His beautiful, naked body resembled stunning marble; firm and strong, slender and desirous. His hands slid under the hem of your undergarment that covered your trembling body. Inch by inch he pushed it up, over your waist and stomach, until he had freed your beautiful breasts. Rosy nipples tightened under his gaze. His eyes grew dark with desire and Javier couldn't believe his luck. You lay before him, in the flesh. Beautiful and desirable!

After he had removed your undergarments, he carelessly threw it aside and you lay in the soft sheets dressed only in your white, long stockings. Biting your lips gently, you looked up at Javier, giving him a glimpse between your legs as you opened them for him. You could hear him inhale deeply, trembling with excitement.

"Oh, querida…"

Did you realize how crazy you were driving him? How much he desired you? His hands covered your tits, pressing them together. He lifted them to his lips as he lowered his head and his hair slid over your oversensitive, heated skin, while his mouth swallow one of the stiff nipples, kissing it first and then circling it with his tongue, making you moan with pleasure.

Javier continued, covering your other tit with tender bites. You squirmed helplessly, wishing he would lick your hot, throbbing pussy. To kiss it and give it the attention it needed right now. You could barely stand it anymore, so your hand slipped between your legs and you started caressing yourself. Javier noticed this immediately and he had to grin, rather he let your nipple slide out of his mouth with a smack. Slowly, he slid down on your body. Grabbing your hips, he lifted your hips to finally taste your sweet little pussy after such a long time. Completely captivated by your scent, Javier closed his eyes for a moment and breathed it in. You desperately whispered his name as you felt infinite pleasure at that moment. His tongue parted your folds, swapping between them and finding your clitoris. Slowly, ever so slowly, Javier circled the small, pulsating center of your desire. He alternated licking and sucking on you until he heard you lustfully call his name. It was like a sighing plea to finally take you.

Deeply his tongue plunged into your tight, wet opening, fucking you in a delicious way and you thought you were going to lose your mind.

"Javier…!"

Clutching at the pillow, you threw your head to the side, moaning with pleasure as your inner thighs began to quiver.

Your breasts rose and fell with each breath and Javier's dark eyes, looked up at you. He enjoyed the sight of your beautiful body, the expression of pure bliss on your face. His tongue ran in circular motions over your clit, sometimes faster and then slower. You could barely stand the feeling and you suppressed a loud moan, pressing the back of your hand to your mouth. "Oh my god… ahhh…"

"Ahh… Y/N…"

Javier encircled your swollen pearl and he started sucking on it, stroking your thighs with his hands and as you reached into his hair, a deep growl came from his throat. His cock was perfectly hard and erect, pre-cum dripping from its tip, sliding slowly down his shaft. He could hardly stand it anymore, becoming more energetic in his actions as he also slid his fingers into your opening to fuck you with his fingers.

Briefly Javier had to swallow your nectar to continue and before you could think any further you came with a lustful moan, your back arching and Javier holding you tightly to his mouth so you could ride out your orgasm.

"Mi rosa… you are so beautiful…" he whispered, breathing a kiss on your inner thigh before sliding up to you, his warm, toned body resting on yours.

Javier grabbed his cock and made circular motions with the tip on your clit.

"Look at me, sweetheart…" he whispered, gently turning your face towards him and when you opened your eyes, Javier could see the tears in them. But he could tell that you were just happy at the moment.

"I want to look at you when I make love to you…"

"Javier…"

His words were as sweet as honey, his touches and kisses gentle as a bird's wings.

As his hand sought yours to intertwine your fingers, he guided his cock to your wet opening and you instantly took him in. With a deep, lustful moan on both sides, you looked into each other's eyes, saw the lust in each other's faces. A beautiful and very intimate moment for you.

You clawed almost desperately at his masculine back, almost as if you were afraid he might be taken from you again. But Javier felt the same way. The thought of letting you go again was out of the question for him.

"Mi amor… I love you…"

Your pussy was like velvet and you were hot and so wet… Javier thought he was losing his mind. He began to thrust himself inside you. Slowly at first, for he savored being so deep inside you. His throbbing cock filled you completely. "Ahh… you are so tight and so hot…. hssst… ahhh…" he moaned against your ear and he bit your earlobe. His voice had gone a notch deeper and darker and that made your body tremble with pleasure. His lips kissed your mouth as he moved rhythmically inside you and his scent clouded your senses. He smelled of leather, spicy lavender and tobacco…

The sound of his balls smacking against your wetness filled the room. Enveloped by your scent and your husky, lustful sounds, and after more powerful thrusts from Javier, he felt that he was about to climax and you too felt yourself tingling intensely between your legs. When his hand slipped between your bodies to caress your clit, your climax overtook you. Your body arched lustfully towards Javier and you clawed at his strong arms, seeking help, driving him crazy with the sight of your beautiful body. And finally he squirted his seed deep into your soft pussy, growling lustfully and closing his eyes as he thrust into you, trembling while riding out his climax.

You clung to each other in the soft sheets of your bed, enjoying this precious moment. Panting heavily, you lay on top of each other and Javier had his arms wrapped tightly around your body. You felt so desired, so loved… you had the feeling that you would always find protection in his arms. When his eyes searched your gaze, you smiled lovingly at him and Javier covered your face with tender kisses. Gently he kissed your cheek, your chin, your nose, your eyelids and finally your seductive mouth.

The two of you stayed like that for a few moments; foreheads resting together and looking into each other's eyes, not wanting to lose the feeling of the other. This was a special moment for both of you….

♦♦♦♦

"Where have you been all these years, Javier?" you asked softly as you rested against his chest. It was such a pleasant silence that surrounded you both. The sun's rays fell directly on their naked bodies, mentioning you. The young man gently stroked your arm as he looked up at the ceiling, thinking about where best to start. He had been through a lot in the last five years, had made bad decisions. But after the decline of the gang, he too had been lost. For Javier, everything had been hopeless then.

"I was lost, mi rosa. I had made many, wrong decisions."

You listened to him, snuggling even closer to his chest, gently running your fingers over his skin.

"After the decline, I got into one shit situation after another. I didn't… didn't care about anything anymore, you know? I stole, killed to survive. I was just a shadow of my former self."

You could understand him well, and you knew Javier. He had a guilty conscience for all those things, but they were in the past now and you had to let them rest sometime. You were lucky to have Abigail and John as support. Otherwise, you would have been in a bad way after Micah and Dutch brought everyone to ruin.

"But I was given another chance. And this man is really like a father to me. He's given me a lot, shown me a lot."

He was talking about his boss, who had finally persuaded him to seek you out.

Curiously you looked up at him and when you saw Javier smile you knew everything was right. Giving you a kiss on the forehead, he sighed contentedly.

" I'm very happy that you live in this beautiful place, Y/N. I'm happy that you're doing well and living a good life."

Tears came to your eyes at his words. It had been half a life without him, but his words touched you. It only confirmed how much he loved you.

"Without Abigail and John, I don't think I would have made it as easily as I did."

Javier was now very curious when you mentioned their name. Javier often thought of John.

"They were supportive of me, Javier. I was with them for almost two years until finally I was able to build my own life."

But there was one thing you didn't mention. A trauma that you hadn't really dealt with until today, and if Javier found out, it would break his heart. Only Abigail, John and little Jack knew about that. Something that had shaken you all to the core. You immediately shook off that thought, because it wasn't time to tell Javier yet. Was there even a time for it?

"I'm just glad we found each other again, darling," you whispered as you nestled your face into the crook of his neck and took a deep breath of his scent.

"I love you, Y/N."

His arms wrapped protectively around you and neither of you had the intention to stand up. Time seemed to have stopped for you.

You had been stranded, left by the wayside and yet, your lives had moved forward. Javier had managed to get his life together, just like you. You both earned your money with hard work and you were proud of it. You were more grown up, had realized at some point that life as an outlaw was not a romantic affair. No one knew better than you, because you had gone through it…

♦♦♦♦

You stood in the kitchen, your thoughts giving you no peace. A bit nervously you chewed your thumb, looking out of the window, lost. Dark clouds were gathering, the thunder was already rumbling in the distance.

"Is everything all right, honey?"

You seemed a bit sad this morning and Javier wondered what the reason could be. There was indeed a reason, but you couldn't talk about it. At least not yet. You had just found each other and you didn't want a shadow to be cast over your love.

"Yes. I'm just a little sick to my stomach."

Loving as Javier was, he gently stroked your cheek and smiled encouragingly at you.

"You should lie down for a bit. Drink some chamomile tea, that will calm your stomach."

You gave him a warm smile, rather kissing him tenderly.

"Maybe you're right."

"I have to go now. My client doesn't like to wait."

"Okay, Javi. I'll see you tonight."

He gave you another deep, intimate kiss but instead of pulling away from you, he intensified the kiss, his body snuggling against yours and pressing you against the counter, making you gasp in pleasure. Instantly, you wrapped your arms around his neck, smiling into the kiss.

"Javi?"

"Mmm…"

His lips roamed over your neck, and he knew exactly where to kiss you so you'd be all his.

"Don't you have to go to work?" you asked with an amused undertone.

"Mhm… I still have a few minutes," he whispered against your skin and without giving it much thought, he grabbed your thighs and lifted you onto the counter. With a seductive smile, you pulled Javier by his collar while your beautiful legs wrapped around his waist.

"I just can't keep my hands off you," he purred low and excited as he slid his hand under your skirt to feel your skin.

"Javi…"

You became instantly wet and that was just from his voice, his touch and his closeness. There was nothing wrong with performing a quick fuck in the kitchen, was there?

But your plan was thwarted when you heard a wagon. Javier looked out the window and saw someone approaching.

"Who is that?"

It could only be John. She looked up at Javier.

"Let's go outside. That must be John."

"John?"

What was John doing here? Out of nowhere like this? Javier frowned but followed, and he was more than curious to know how these circumstances fit together.

"Hey, Y/N! I brought you some stuff from town. And…"

John's smile evaporated as Javier suddenly appeared behind you. He thought he was seeing a ghost and he had to realize Javier was really here. John shook his head barely noticeably, closing his eyes briefly and frowning.

"What are you doing here?"

"Hola, John…"

"I said, what the hell are you doing here?"

And John sounded rather irritated. Instantly, he climbed off his wagon, made his way straight to the two of you. You had guessed that this reunion wouldn't be easy. But that John would react so negatively to Javier was surprising even to you.

"I could ask you the same thing, amigo."

Javier didn't appreciate being approached without any respect. John was angry, yes, he could understand. But if he was going to act foolish, well, so could Javier.

"I'll take care of, Y/N. Unlike you, Javier!"

Javier swallowed hard. Yes, John had been right. He hadn't been there for you, but he was now, and he would stay.

"You better get out of here, Javier! You have no business being here!"

"What? Says who? You?"

"Enough!"

The whole thing was getting too silly for you. With a stern look you eyed John, standing in front of Javier.

"This is my house, my property! I decide who can come here and who can't! Is that clear, John!"

"Y/N! Do you really think you can trust that snake? After all he's done!"

"Oh, come on John! Don't act like that! You let Abigail and Jack down back then! You let us all down that time!"

Now John was the one who had nothing to say about it. The two men paused and you were glad that neither of them had anything to say at the moment.

"We all made mistakes in our past. But talking about it doesn't undo anything!"

"Y/N, you may be right, but Javier sided with Micah! He is partly to blame for Arthur's death!"

"That's enough John! You better leave now!"

But John didn't listen at all, he went straight for Javier, stood in front of him, but Javier didn't back away, nor did he let John intimidate him.

"You betrayed us all."

With his head held high, he looked John in the eye. There was something dangerous in his gaze.

"I saved your life more than once, hijo de puta!"

But John was so pissed, he wasn't even listening to what Javier had to say to him.

"When Y/N needed you the most, you weren't there! You abandoned her and your child!"

It hit Javier, but also you, like a thunderbolt when John spoke those words. And at that very moment, there was a deep and powerful clap of thunder. Within a few seconds, the first raindrops were already falling to the earth. Daughter? How? But… For Javier, a world just collapsed. He was completely confused and you could see it in his face. His eyes slid across the ground, trying to comprehend what John had just said.

"Your daughter would have needed a father! Your woman would have needed you!"

You couldn't believe John had the thoughtlessness to say such a thing to Javier. Sobbing, you put your hand to your mouth to suppress your tears as best you could. Eventually everything came to light, but it had definitely been too soon. Way too soon and you would never forgive John for that. Closing your eyes, you let the first tears run free. The rain became heavier and soon wetted your entire face, mixing with your tears.

Javier was so shocked by John's statement that he was speechless. He opened his mouth to say something, but no words passed his lips. His eyes became glassy and he cast a shocked look in your direction. When he saw your tears and your agonized expression, he was aware that John was telling the truth.

"Y/N… no…"

"Fuck you Javier! Do her a favor and fuck off again!"

Where was his child? You didn't tell him about it! Where the hell was his daughter?

[in-tenebris-et-in-solitudine]

[soulinkpoetry]

Those who go around and break hearts thinking nothing of it, end up alone.

.

.

[rainyyy-dayysss]

You'll always be the deepest scar on my heart

- Cassia Leo , The way we fall

[masterjedilenawrites]

Heyy bestie uhm I'm gonna need another part of angst especially after the cheating Ex (seriously tho what a jerk) like how would the clones and batch be like in a new relationship would they be more cautious? Skeptical of there new s/o words and assume they are lying until yhey get proof? Like would they be worried to give there heart to a new person/ s\o not sure whether to trust them or not and if there being honest

Oh boy... more angst eh? I made references to their past relationships a little more vague, so it could fit in with those cheating HCs or you could imagine different reasons as to how their hearts got broken before they put themselves out there again...

Kix, Jesse, and Hunter are calm, cool, and collected... on the outside. Inside, they are stressed the heck out when they start going on dates again. Don't get them wrong, they do very much want to try again. They believe in soulmates and can't wait to find theirs. But there is definitely a lot of internal monologuing. They question everything, including their own feelings... Is that a red flag? Am I comparing them too much to my ex? They don't share any of their insecurities until the new relationship is stable.

Dogma, Tech, and Crosshair would be more adverse to starting a new relationship after having their heart broken. It would take a long, long time for them to be interested in someone new. For them, it's not about trust so much as investment. To commit to the time it takes to get to know someone, the energy it takes to build emotional connections, is very daunting, and they now have firsthand experience that it doesn't always work out. It would take someone truly special for them to risk giving love a second chance.

Fox, Hardcase, and Echo hide the scars on their heart very well. For the most part. By the time they meet someone new they're wanting to pursue, they'll have made peace with a lot of their past and will give the new relationship an honest chance, letting things unfold in their own way and not comparing or worrying about repeating history. But every once in a while, something will happen that'll trigger old wounds quite unexpectedly. They'll be moody and even fearful and they won't know why until someone helps them connect the dots.

Cody, Wolffe, and Tup are cautious. They go on a few dates here and there, acting polite and having an okay time. But they never commit, never take things further. They're not sure why. What are they waiting for? What do they even want in a partner now? They sort of go through the motions without feeling much. It would take someone becoming their friend first to break through whatever apathy they had, and then they'll have a real chance at creating a solid, meaningful, romantic relationship that actually makes them feel good.

Rex, Fives, and Wrecker are total messes. Someone please keep an eye on these poor boys if they choose to re-enter the dating pool again, they'll need all the support they can get so they don't a) emotionally fall apart and/or b) end up in another unhealthy arrangement. Either or both scenarios are likely. Any potential new partners need to be patient and understanding. They'll share their tragic romantic history on the first date and be open throughout the relationship in how they feel about everything, for better or worse.

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[starstruckunknown-princess]

Bruises That Won’t Heal - Black Rose Part 2

Summary: Rhysand returns from Under the Mountain with an announcement that Niamh desperately wishes wasn’t true. Black Rose Part 2, can be read as a standalone but it’s better with Part 1!

Pairing: Rhysand x OC (Niamh, pronounced ‘Neev,’ no physical descriptions)

Warnings: ANGST, allusions to sex, UtM happenings, PTSD, depression, aggressive behavior

Word Count: 3166

A/N: So I wasn’t going to post this but I’m on a hot writing streak right now and have issues with impulse control so here ya go! Also, the title is a lyric from ‘No Surprises’ by Radiohead, which I think goes with the angsty feel of this chapter. Also, did I mention there’s angst ahead? Cuz there is. 

Thank you for reading! Like/Reblog/Comments always appreciated!

Banner by yours truly, dividers by firefly-graphics

Mother above, Niamh thought to herself. 

The chair she sat in became impossibly uncomfortable despite its plushness. Rhys kept talking to the four other members of his inner circle but it sounded far away and dulled, like he was shouting at her from underwater. Her cheeks were hot and all she could hear was her own pulse in her ears. 

“Excuse me,” she said, rising and heading for the nearest balcony. She didn’t notice or care if anyone tried to stop her, she needed air. Rhys paused and she vaguely heard him call her name but she was already out the door, trying to remember how to breathe properly. 

From the balcony she looked out over Velaris sparkling below. The lights started to blur together as tears welled in her eyes. His announcement was a punch in the gut. Her chest felt like it was imploding when a mere twenty-four hours ago it felt like it was full to bursting. Her breathing was shallow, shaking fists shut so tight her nails were cutting into her palms. 

This couldn’t be happening. He had a mate, a gods-be-damned mate! That was what his strange dreams had meant.

She should’ve known. 

How could she have been so naive? 

The wind whipped past her form, invisible hands grabbing at her clothing and hair. For a moment she wished those hands were real, grasping small parts of her and tearing her apart — a thousand different pieces of Niamh drifting through the night sky. That would be preferable to the swirling heartbreak that had found a home in her chest. 

The potted rose bushes on either side of her grew rapidly into a thick hedge behind her, thorns growing sharper, a wall between her and the source of her pain. Braced against the wide railing, she looked down at her ring. 

The ring he’d given her when he promised her forever after she’d abandoned her brother in the Spring Court. With a shaking hand, she slipped the ring off. It was meaningless now, and she wouldn’t be the selfish one who refused to let him be with his mate. 

Even if it felt like her insides were shriveling, wilting, dying within her. 

She placed the ring on the railing, knowing he would find it. Hoping he would understand.

“Niamh?” a male voice called through the hedge. 

Cassian.

“I just need a minute, Cass,” she lied. Though it was a small consolation, she was relieved her voice didn’t break under the weight of a lie. She needed a lot longer than a minute to process exactly what Rhys had said. 

When he’d winnowed to the House of Wind, they’d run at each other after the moment of shock. Her broken, joyful cry alerted Mor in the other room. The three of them had collapsed on each other, she and Mor clinging to Rhys and him clinging to them just the same. Tears were shed, happy ones, and Niamh assumed he ducked her kisses because of his urgency to reunite with his family. 

They were all so elated to be together again that the full debrief of his time Under the Mountain was pushed until the next night. They drank and feasted and danced like it was Starfall and they were rowdy hundred-somethings again. Instead of everyone heading to their rooms, they all passed out where they dropped. 

Niamh hadn’t given much thought to his lack of physical affection toward her. He’d placed quick pecks on everyone’s cheeks, hugged each member of his family for minutes at a time (except Amren, who only managed fifteen seconds). 

“Do you, um…do you want me to take you home?” Cass asked quietly. She shut her eyes tight, chest constricting. Of course, he was ducking her affection because he had a mate. The tears leaked down her face and she nodded.

“Yes,” she whispered, remembering that he couldn’t see her through the rose hedge. Black roses. Her favorite.

She receded the hedge with her powers, just as she had built it. Cassian looked at her and she could see the secondhand pain written across his handsome face. It was more sympathetic than pitying, which she was thankful for as she crossed to him. He folded her into a tight embrace and she pressed herself into his leathers. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” he murmured to her, rubbing circles on her upper back as she tried to rein in the tears.

From inside the house she could hear Mor calling her name, but she didn’t have the strength to deal with her right now. Sensing this, Cassian lifted her into his arms and, with a gust of wind, lifted them both into the air and flew her home.

Three weeks passed and Niamh hadn’t seen any of the Inner Circle. She put up wards to prevent winnowing into her home and didn’t answer the persistent knocks at the door. She ignored the letters that showed up at least once a day. Even after almost fifty years she knew the handwriting on the envelopes. 

Her time was spent in her rooftop greenhouse, cultivating her various plant species and growing flowers to sell to local florists. It kept her hands and mind busy. Besides, she already knew exactly what Rhys would say to her so why bother reopening the wound? 

She was sitting against the arm of her couch in the living room, a book propped open on her legs when Mor appeared in front of her unlit fireplace. 

“Where the hell have you been?” the blonde goddess demanded, hands on her hips. 

“Huh, my wards must be down.” Niamh looked up from her book and shrugged. “Here.”

“Why haven’t you answered any of Rhys’s letters?” Mor gestured to the coffee table in front of them which was blanketed in the folded parchment. All the seals were intact. 

She turned her attention back to her book, not wanting her friend to see the flash of anguish in her eyes. “I’ve been busy.” 

“Bullshit. Why have you been ignoring us?”

“Because all of you are going to tell me I need to talk to Rhys or read his letters and I don’t want to hear it!” Niamh threw her book aside and rose to her feet, stalking into her kitchen. “He’s mated, Mor. Mated! After I waited for him for fifty years. I know what he’s going to say and I just…don’t see the point. We’re obviously over, I might as well move on.” 

“Honey,” Mor said as she followed her into the kitchen, “Don’t you want some sense of closure? An apology? To let him know how you’re feeling?” 

Niamh filled her kettle and set about making tea. She had to do something with her hands to stop the prickling feeling inside them. “No.” 

“So you’d rather ignore your entire family than have one uncomfortable conversation?” Mor scoffed, indignant. “Real mature, Niamh.” 

Niamh slammed the kettle onto the stove, denting the surface and startling Mor. She knew what Mor said was true — she was being childish by not facing her problems and having the conversation with Rhys. But she couldn’t help it. After fifty years of holding him together in his dreams, he’d come back to her in love with someone else. “Fuck off and let me grieve, Mor.” 

“Is that what you’ve been doing for the last few weeks? Grieving?” She could hear Mor approach, then felt a warm hand on her shoulder. Niamh nodded, not facing the other female. “But we got him back, he came home to us…”

“And immediately broke my heart. I’ve lost him twice now, Mor, and I just…I need time.” 

Mor’s warm hand moved and Mor embraced her from behind, her head coming to rest on Niamh’s shoulder. “Okay, okay. I’ll call off the Illyrians. But can you promise me something?” 

“What?” 

“That you won’t shut yourself off from us like that again. I understand you don’t want to see Rhys, but I miss my best friend.” Mor half-smiled and Niamh promised the two of them would go shopping soon. Satisfied with that promise, Morrigan moved onto lighter topics and sipped the tea Niamh made. 

Despite the undercurrent of despair, it was a pretty pleasant afternoon. 

Mor winnowed back to the House of Wind and found a despondent Rhys sitting in the same chair she’d left him in. Hands white-knuckle grasped in front of him, head bowed to the marble floor, as if he was praying to the Mother. For all she knew, that’s exactly what he was doing. 

He looked up when she entered the room, violet eyes wide and eager. “How’d it go? Is she okay?” 

Mor sighed long and deep, “She’s hurt, Rhys. She needs time.” 

“She’s had three fucking weeks,” he said, standing and beginning to pace. “And she needs more time?” 

“Turn the situation around, Rhys, how do you think you’d feel if you came back and she found her mate while you were…away.” Mor posited. 

The last few weeks had been difficult on her cousin as he resumed his post as High Lord. Long days and nights reacquainting himself with his court, his people, and what issues had arisen in the last fifty years that required his attention had left him exhausted. Today was the first time he’d had a chance to bring up Niamh, mentioning to his cousin that she wasn’t responding to his letters and asking if she’d heard anything from the Spring Court convert. 

Then, upon hearing that no one in the Inner Circle had seen or heard from her, he’d frantically ordered Mor to check up on Niamh and report back. His nerves were frayed from fatigue. Mor could see his mind spinning through every horrible thing that could’ve happened to Niamh, and she had to admit that she was also concerned, so she’d agreed. 

Rhys paused his pacing and ran a hand through his dark hair. “Awful. I’d feel…awful. Crushed. Obliterated.” 

Mor approached her cousin as gently as she’d approached Niamh earlier, like approaching a cornered wildcat. “So maybe ease up on her. She just needs time, okay? She’ll come back, but we need to give her space for now.” 

Rhys’s shoulders slumped when she placed a hand between them. He spun and pulled her close to him, his wet tears dampening the shoulder of her dress. She didn’t mind. 

“I missed her…so much. I survived, clawed my way through every awful thing so I could see her when she dreamwalked to me. She kept me sane, Mor. I owe her everything, and she won’t even be in the same room as me.” 

“She’ll come around,” Mor comforted him. “I know she will.” 

His voice sounded so pained when he said, “I loved her. I…I wanted to marry her.” 

Mor stroked his hair, her own eyes misting over, “I know you did.” 

One Week Later

Simply to torture himself, Rhys found the secret compartment in the headboard of his bed at the townhouse and pulled the velvet box out from inside it. With a deep breath, he opened it. 

The ring inside was slightly worn, but beautiful. He could still remember the day he’d bought it from a jeweler in the Rainbow, practically giddy with excitement to ask Niamh to marry him. A band of intricate silver vines, small clusters of diamonds framed a rare black emerald. 

He’d proposed that night, about twenty years after she became a permanent fixture in his court. They’d never gotten around to the actual marriage ceremony due to one thing or another, High Lord business or her work with his spymaster demanding too much attention to plan a wedding. Hell, forget a wedding, he would’ve happily sworn their vows in front of a city clerk, but for whatever reason they never had.

He’d found the ring on the railing at the House of Wind. While recounting his years under the mountain and revealing the news of his mate, he’d watched Niamh’s expression falter. The light behind her eyes dimmed and she’d drawn into herself before exiting the room. He wanted to go after her, but Amren’s questions had stopped him. A few minutes later, he watched from the balcony as Cassian flew her toward the Rainbow. 

Probably for the best that they’d never married, he thought bitterly. He’d be in an even more impossible situation now. Feyre would still be his mate but he would be married to Niamh. 

Feyre was his mate.

He couldn’t help the tingle of excitement that ran up his spine whenever he thought of her, but it was followed by a sickening wave of nausea that he suspected wouldn’t go away until things were right with Niamh. Whenever that would be. She was stubborn and could hold a grudge, just like her brother.

Her brother, whom his mate was currently planning on marrying. 

“Mother above, what a mess,” he said out loud to no one, falling back on the bed. He raised the ring box above him and snapped it closed. 

He couldn’t do anything about having a mate. Whatever forces of the universe deemed that he belonged with Feyre and nothing could sever that tie. 

But he loved Niamh deeply, truly, and a not-insignificant part of him still did. What was he supposed to do with that love? Especially since the object of that love wouldn't come within a hundred feet of him, wouldn’t respond to the numerous letters he sent, who told Mor that she needed “time.”

And even when “time” was up, what then? They would never be the same. Within the first two weeks of his return, he’d settled back into his friendships with everyone else but Niamh. Cassian’s inappropriate jokes, Azriel’s dark sarcasm, Mor’s sharp tongue, Amren’s deep wisdom, it all came back to him. It all welcomed him home like a warm blanket that, unfortunately, was a few inches too short. 

He needed Niamh’s curios intelligence, her open smile, her quick wit. The way her eyes would light up when he brought her rare seeds or specimens, how her hair would fall in her face while she was deep into research. 

The little noises she made when he kissed her just right. How her body responded so deliciously to him. How safe and loved she’d made him feel all those years when she would visit him in his dreams.

His heart fractured at the reality that he might not get those things back. In all likelihood, he would never see those parts of her again. 

As happy as he was to have found his mate (even if she was engaged to a shitbag), he was equally as devastated to lose Niamh. His own heart was broken, and Niamh didn’t know that. He couldn’t blame her for not wanting to see him, but it was taking all of his self-control to stay away. 

A knock sounded at his door and he bid whoever it was to enter. Azriel and Cassian entered the room, but Rhys didn’t move from his splayed-out position on the bed. 

“You okay, boss?” Cassian asked. 

“No,” he answered, “What is it?” 

Azriel approached him and held out a sealed envelope. “It’s from Niamh.” 

Rhys sat bolt upright and snatched the letter from Az’s hands. He recognized her handwriting and the green rose wax seal on the back. 

“Did she say anything to you? Does she want me to respond?” 

Azriel shook his head slightly, “It’s all in the letter. We’ll be outside if you need us.” 

“And by that he means we’ll run to the liquor store so you can drown your sorrows once you’ve finished it,” Cassian joked, earning him a punch in the chest from Azriel as they walked out and shut the door behind them. 

With shaking hands, Rhys broke the seal and extracted the letter. 

‘Rhysand, 

I don’t even know where to begin but Amren said she wouldn’t stop knocking my plants over until I wrote you something, so here I am. 

I’m devastated, Rhys. Like the rug has been pulled out from under me and then a piano was dropped on my head. I’ve been avoiding you because I know what you’ll say. It’s not your fault, you didn’t plan for this to happen, you’re so, so sorry. While I don’t doubt the truth behind these sentiments, actually hearing them from your lips would only serve to devastate me further. 

We just got you back and I’m losing you all over again. Only this time you’ll still be around, deeply in mating-love with someone who isn’t me. When you were gone it was like a part of myself was missing. I searched hundreds of dreams for you, and when I found you I couldn’t bear the waking world. I wanted to live in our dreams forever. I know you did too. Maybe you still do.

Which brings me to my announcement; I’m leaving the Night Court. I’ve taken a job in another court with an old friend. By the time you’re reading this, I’ve already left. Please, Rhys, don’t come looking for me. I am safe.

Just know that I hold no ill feeling toward you or your mate. I love you, Rhys, and I always will. And that’s why it’s better if I leave. You and your mate will have a better start if you have nothing holding you back. 

I wish you all the best, and I hope someday we can meet again as friends. 

All My Love,

Niamh’ 

Rhys was shaking with rage as he finished the letter. He sprang to his feet and rushed downstairs to where his brothers were waiting, each with a drink in hand. Cassian offered him a glass with a generous pour of whiskey in it, but Rhys slapped it away and pinned Cassian to the wall with his forearm on the Illyrian’s windpipe.

“Did you know about this?” he shouted, inches from his brother’s face, pressing his weight onto his brother’s neck. “Did you know she was leaving?” 

“Yes, we did,” Azriel answered calmly from behind him, “She gave us the letter yesterday, then I flew her to the border.” 

Rhys dropped Cassian, who gasped for air. He turned his attention to the shadowsinger, shoulders hunched with tension, fully intending on leveling the spymaster with his bare hands. 

“Rhys, think about this rationally for a second,” Azriel said, holding up his hands. “How is your mate going to react to another female you used to be in love with — betrothed to — hanging around?”

His shoulders sagged. Az had a point. The Mating Bond made both mates possessive to the point of danger, especially in the early days. And Rhys was already keeping Feyre in the dark about more than he’d like. 

“I just…wish I got to say goodbye. It’s like I’ve lost her again.” 

Cassian had poured him a new drink, and Rhys accepted it as he fell back into a plush chair, exhausted and boneless. 

It was the first of many, many drinks that night. And most of the nights to come.

Part 3

[louudthoughts]

blood clots.

if i let you into my heart, it’s because i made room for you.

but if you break it, there will be no more excuses to hide what you’ve done.

you will be cut off, taking a piece of my heart with you.

[altoordine]

[seaweedstarshine]

the fruits of my Eleventh Doctor Chronicles: Broken Hearts-fueled obsession

[princessmisery666]

Broken Promises - Part 4 - All Or Nothing Mini Series

Summary: The broken promises have a devastating effect, causing painful decisions.

Warnings: angst, not everyone gets a happy ending, end of a friendship, self loathing. 

W/C: 2.8k

Rating: E (explicit - 18+)

Characters: Jake “Hangman” Seresin, Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw. 

Pairing: Rooster x fem!reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).

A/N: I’m sorry. That’s all I have, an apology. That being said, I love this chapter.

Graphics: dividers @writercole // title card made by me.

Catch Up Here: All Or Nothing

Master Lists: Top Gun Maverick // All The Fandoms

Betas: @deanwinchesterswitch // all mistakes are my own.

Broken Promises

It feels like emotional suicide. Jake knows no good will come of him scrolling your Instagram feed. Seeing your content smile next to Bradley’s beaming love-filled grin makes his heart sick. Yet his thumb continues, the pictures get older, and he replaces Bradley at your side.

Photos of your life together assault the tenuous state of his sanity — a holiday to Mexico, crystal clear water up to your knees, fruity, bright cocktails in hand, Jake’s arm around your waist. The Christmas you went with his family to Lapland, you sitting on Santa’s lap while Jake pointed an accusing finger as if Santa had been naughty. A picture of Jake sleeping, head in your lap with the caption - “He’s cute when he’s sleeping.” Another on his graduation day, your beyond proud smile grinning back at him. It seems like a lifetime ago, a time when the world made sense. 

It’s been four days… four days of radio silence.

Jake’s sent you messages and left voicemails, but it’s like screaming into the void. Or maybe it’s because he only ever finds the words at the bottom of a hundred proof at stupid o’clock when he’s missing you and grieving. 

I’m sorry. Please can we talk about this? I didn’t mean to hurt you. I love you, and I’m sorry for not figuring it out sooner.

Bradley has been absent from Top Gun. Phoenix reluctantly told Jake that Rooster was taking some personal time. No one asked about his busted-up face, so he assumes they’ve all been given a rundown of the events.

He steers clear of the Hard Deck, does his work, eats his meals alone, and returns to his apartment as soon as the work day ends. 

He resents the apartment. He only bought it because you convinced him to. You moved to San Diego when he knew he was to be stationed there. There were two apartments available, one across the hall from the other. — “Come on, Jake, it’ll be like our very own version of Friends.” He's never been able to resist your elated smile, and even though he didn’t particularly like the studio layout, he brought it to be close to you. 

But now, knowing you're not across the hall, his apartment feels cold and too big. 

The soft knock on the door makes him nauseous. He knows it's you. He contemplates not answering. You don’t know that he’s home. There’s no tv or radio playing, so there’s no sound to give him up.

He quietly walks to the door and rests his hand against the wood. You're on the other side; he can feel you. If he closes his eyes, he knows he’ll be able to feel the embrace you won’t give him.

He hasn’t let himself contemplate that the outcome could be positive. He expects the worst; it’s a fantasy to believe anything else.

You knock again, softer than the first. He imagines you are struggling with what's to come, should he let you in, as much as he is. He holds his breath, lungs beginning to burn by the time you knock a third time, gingerly calling out his name.

He unlatches the lock and walks further into the apartment. You take the unlocked door as an invitation to let yourself in.

He crosses the open plan space to the kitchen. Grabbing a cold beer from the fridge, he pops the cap off as he spins to face you. You stand so far back you may as well be on another planet.

He hates himself so much he can barely stomach the feel of his tongue as he licks away the drop of froth from his lips.

There’s no greeting or other pleasantries as you face each other. Your eyes scan the bruises that stain his face before finally dropping your gaze and shuffling your feet as if you feel guilty for the blemishes on his skin. 

“How’s your face?”

“Fine,” he says, shrugging, “Bradshaw hits like a girl.”

You shake your head, and he can see how done you are with his shit in the way you don’t even crack a hint of a smile. He strides to the other side of the breakfast bar, closer to you but still an ocean of distance. “Shall we get this over with?” he asks. 

You nod and use the motion to find the courage to look at him. “I need you to stay away from me.”

“You came over here to tell me to stay away from you?” 

“Jake, please,” your voice quivers, but you contain the emotion. “Don’t make this any harder than it has to be.”

“So it is hard for you too?”

“Yes!” you snap. “This is hard for me, Jake. It’s fucking devastating. It’s crushing me to do this, and there’s no way to make it easier on either of us. I want to hug you and tell you it’s all going to be okay, but I don’t know that it is. And that physically hurts,” you cry, balled fists digging into your breast bone as if to try dislodging the pain you claim.

“I’m sorry,” he says, walking around the island between you. He’s approaching but nowhere close when you back up a step, anticipating his actions. “Are you afraid of me?” 

“No, I’m not afraid of you, Jake,” you sigh. “I know you didn’t mean to hurt me, and I never thought for a second that you did. I just…If you touch me, it means something more to you than it does to me.”

“I’m sorry that I did hurt you,” he explains, and his stomach knots with nausea at the reminder he marred your skin.

There’s a heavy silence, weighted with anxiety and unease as you stifle your tears as best you can. Jake hates that he’s the cause of the wet tracks on your cheeks, and he’s dangerously close to shedding some tears of his own.

“I'm gonna need to hear you say it.”

“Say what?”

He cautiously moves closer to you as if you're a skittish animal that he’s afraid of scaring away. You don’t bolt, but he respects your need for space by stopping a few feet away. 

He holds your eyes with a firm plea. “Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t love me.” Your chest inflates to reply, but Jake quickly corrects himself to ensure there are no misunderstandings. “Tell me you’re not in love with me.”

You swipe at the tears on your cheeks and snatch the beer from his hand, downing half the contents, gasping for breath when you hand it back. 

The smile tugs on his lips; he can’t fight the glimmer of hope at your lack of denial. “You can’t, can you? I know you feel the same. You’ve just been ignoring it like I was. I was afraid to love you and leave you behind. You deserved better than that. You deserve better than that. You should be kissed and held and cherished every goddamn day, not every couple of months or when deployments allow it. But seeing you with Bradshaw made me see that it would have made it all the sweeter when we were together.”

His name comes out as a choked whisper, and he doesn’t know how to interrupt it. A warning to stop, an affirmation that he’s right? Regardless, he’s not done. 

“You said it, you said it to my parents, you said you thought about being Y/N Seresin, and I know that hasn’t just disappeared. You moved to San Diego for me; you came here for me. You still feel it.”

You shake your head, and he’s not sure if you’re trying to convince yourself or him. You speak to your feet when you beg, “Please just leave me alone.”

“Is that Bradshaw talking or you?”

“It’s me.” 

“I don’t believe you. You promised me,” he says, tone rife with injustice. “You promised me you and Bradshaw wouldn’t come between us.” 

“Don’t put this on Bradley!” you yell, and the fire behind your eyes burns bright. “You promised me, at your sister’s wedding, hell, way back in high school, that you’d never let me drown. Well, here I am, Jake. I’m drowning in the broken promises we both made to each other, and I don’t know which way is up anymore.”

“So we’ll figure it out,” Jake beseeches, reaching for your hands. 

“No,” you say firmly, snatching your hands out of his reach. “I'm asking you to leave me alone, stop calling, don’t text, and if you see me in the street, act like you don’t know me.”

“For how long?”

“Jake!” you yell frustratingly. He can see the agony it’s causing you, but he needs to know.

“We live in the same building. How am I supposed to stay away from you?”

Finally, you meet his eyes again, and he wonders if it’s to drive the point home or hurt him the same way he’s hurt you because it feels like a gut punch when you tell him. “I’m moving in with Bradley.”

He tips the bottle to his lips, gulping the remaining liquid to stop himself from breaking down. He did this. He pushed you into Bradley’s arms. He introduced you, gave you his blessing, and his latest actions have sent you scurrying deeper into Bradley’s safety net.

“We’ll stay away from the Hard Deck,” you explain while he’s unable to talk. “Let you have your hunting grounds.”

“So this is it?” he asks, breath catching in his throat. “We’re done? We can’t even be friends. The last twenty years have just been forgotten, gone, just like that?” he snaps his fingers.

“Yes,” you say with a tune of finality, squaring your shoulders. 

“Y/N, please,” he begs. “I’m so fucking sorry. I fucked up. I know how bad I screwed up. I should have told you everything when I was close to you. I shouldn’t have been so pacified being your friend. I should have said it all when I had the chance. I shouldn’t have waited.”

“It doesn’t matter!” you yell, silencing him. “You said it yourself, Jake. It’s all or nothing with me. We had it all. We were friends, and it worked. We can’t go back to that. So please, I’m asking you to stay away from me and out of Bradley’s face. If you care about me the way you say, you’ll do that for me. It’s the least you owe me.”

“If?” he questions, raising his voice as you head toward the door. “If I care about you? Are you questioning that? Is that the problem? You don’t believe me?”

You stop, half out of the door, looking at him over your shoulder. “I believe you. It just doesn’t change anything,” you admit. 

It breaks him. He drops to his knees, chin resting on his chest, heaving deep breaths to stop from roaring like a feral animal.

You let yourself into Bradley’s apartment with the key he gave you. Standing in the hallway, you feel the metal grow warm in your palm, and it’s symbolic poetry that the key represents everything Bradley makes you feel; strong, warm, safe, loved, home.

You just hope your absence and lack of communication haven’t caused a rift between you. 

You stroll to the kitchen, and Bradley’s sitting at the breakfast bar, hugging a mug of coffee that looks as if it went cold a while ago. “Hey,” he whispers, a catch of emotion in his voice. 

“Hey,” you reply, pressing your shoulder into the door frame, uncertainty causing you to hesitate in approaching him.

“You’ve been gone a while,” he notes.

“Needed to clear my head,” you explain, “I’ve been staying with Natasha.”

“She said,” he nods, shrugging lightly. “I wanted to come see you, but I wasn’t sure you wanted me to.” 

You can’t bear the desolation in his eyes, so you look down at the floor. He sounds a little heartbroken, and you know it’s all for you. He was most likely confused, worried, and hurt by your temporary abandonment, but he looks crushed, and you know him well enough to know it’s because he couldn’t comfort you when you needed it most.

“I wouldn't have turned you away if you had.”

“Does that mean I can come over there?” he asks with such hopeful despair it makes you want to cry.

The toe of your sneakers squeaks on the linoleum floor with the speed at which you stand straighter and rush toward him. He twists on the barstool, and you plant yourself between his legs, crushing yourself against his chest hard enough that a whoosh of air escapes him. But he wraps his arms around your waist and holds you tightly, arms encasing your hips. 

“I missed you,” he says, and you can feel how much he means it when his fingers squeeze your frame.

“I missed you too,” you confess, breathing him in, placing a featherlight kiss against his skin. 

He hums low in his chest, and it vibrates through you, spreading warm gratification. This is where you belong. You’re sure of it, but it doesn’t lessen the pain of losing Jake. It somehow makes it worse. When you know your best friend is hurting, the conflict of being happy and content with Rooster makes you nauseous with guilt. 

You sigh heavily, and it’s as if you pressed a button inside Bradley. He tightens his grip and whispers, “I love you.” 

The pain ebbs, if only momentarily, and you know in time, he will banish it to the deep depths of your mind, and you’ll rarely think of it, maybe someday, even forget.

“I love you too, and I’m sorry for disappearing.” 

“Don’t be,” Bradley begins, leaning back to look you in the eyes. “I know this can’t be easy for you. Hell, I’d be concerned if it was. Hey, no,” he coaxes your head back up to meet his eyes with a gentle hold of your chin when you try to shy away. “Don’t do that,” he admonishes with a slight aching frown. “You never have to hide with me.”

You still feel guilty, as if Jake’s actions resulted from yours. Had you led him on somehow, making him think you were more than friends? The thoughts swirl around your mind, a tornado ripping up the foundations of your beliefs, and you worry Bradley thinks the same.

“I’m sorry.” 

“You have nothing to be sorry for, not for what Jake did and not for taking some time to figure stuff out. I’m just glad you’re home.” A flare of doubt widens his eyes. “You are home, right?”

“Yes, I’m home,” you say and peck his lips quickly. Your kiss seems to have stolen his doubts, and you take on the anxiety as your own, worrying, “if that’s what you want still?”

“Yes, oh god, yes!” he assures. You feel the tension leave his body as he kisses you breathless, excitement replacing the moment’s anxiety. Bradley breaks the kiss but reestablishes the connection, resting his forehead against yours, and you both linger in the moment. “I want you to know I’d understand if you chose to forgive him. I can’t. But I won’t stop you if that’s what you want.” He shrugs and dazzles you with a slight jesting smile. “I mean, I'd like you to make him suffer a little before you forgive him.”

“It’s not what I want,” you say and feel the tears prick your eyes. “I can’t forgive him. I went to see him, to clarify that, and asked him to stay away from us.”

His eyes dart back and forth between yours, and apprehension shimmers in his. Your tears fall, and he interrupts their path with the pad of his thumb swiping over your cheeks. “If that’s what you want, then I respect it, but please,” he implores, “please, don’t do it on my behalf. You’ve been friends forever, and I’d never want to come between you. Even if you change your mind, in a week, a month, a year, whatever, I won’t stand between you two. This isn’t ‘a him or me’ type situation.”

“I know. Kinda wish it was,” you admit, “it might have made it easier.”

“Okay,” Bradley says and looks dead serious as he stares into your eyes, “It’s him or me.” He can't hold the sedate expression for long, and his kind smile breaks the mask. “But only if you choose me.”

“Always,” you confess. 

“I can’t tell you how much I needed to hear that. I was damn near terrified this conversation wouldn’t end well for me.” He smiles, so endearing it makes your heart skip a beat, and again you know you’ve made the right choice. “When I’m with you, it feels like the future, and I’m not ready to give that up.”

“You never have to.”

You seal the promise with a kiss. It’s firm but sweet and tender, and it feels as if he’s breathing in your troubles, taking them away with every sweep of his tongue. It lasts so long you feel a little lightheaded, but you don’t want to come up for air. He makes you feel like you're flying, and you’ll continue to soar as long as you have him.

End.

Master Lists: Top Gun Maverick // All The Fandoms

[ablatheringblatherskite]

Seemingly similar moments

With very different outcomes

[heartofmuse]

You come and ask me to love you again.

How can I tell you that I never stopped?

e.v.e. (That was never the problem)

[soulinkpoetry]

People don’t need therapy or drugs to mend their broken hearts. They need a long hug and someone to hold their hand. They can fix themselves with time as long as they feel understood by someone.

.

.

[where-our-stories-start]