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hungermakesmonsters · 4 months

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(Once Bitten) Twice Shy

Chapter Eight

Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R Chapter Rating : R

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Mention of periods (don't worry, we're not doing Saltburn), smutty behaviour, use of toys. More sickening cuteness. All chapters will contain mentions of blood. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : 5k

A/N : It's not exactly a cliffhanger but I get the feeling people won't like where it ends... Oh also spoilers for Jane Eyre (but it's 170 years old so I'm assuming people know the twist?)

MASTER LIST

Chapter Eight

The gentle touch of his fingers on your cheek woke you and, for a few seconds, you weren’t sure where you were. Billy was crouched in front of you, smiling softly. Your eyes threatened to close again, feeling exhausted and like all of it was just a dream.

“Hey,” he muttered softly, his fingers still tenderly caressing your cheek. “Are you okay?”

Finally, you managed to wake yourself up enough to realise that you weren’t dreaming, and that you’d fallen asleep on the sofa beneath the yellow blanket Billy had bought for you.

“I’m fine, just tired,” you told him, slowly sitting up.

Billy remained crouched in front of you, tenderly cupping your cheek and looking almost concerned.

“Did you draw too much blood again?”

“No, it's not that. I did that hours ago. I'm just really tired.”

“Just tired?” He pressed the back of his cold hand to your forehead, checking your temperature.

“And my head hurts a little.”

“When is, uh -” he hesitated, almost looking uncharacteristically embarrassed, “- when is your next period due?”

Your cheeks warmed with both the realisation and the fact that Billy had figured it out before you. That was why you felt so awful. “Soon, I think? I-I lost track of the days after I moved in,” you explained, “and I've never been very, uh… regular…”

Thankfully, Billy just nodded and sat himself beside you, an arm around you pulling you into his side.

“Do you need to go lay down?”

“No I - I want to spend time with you,” you told him, resting your head on his shoulder. “We didn't really get to finish talking last night…”

“Was there something else you wanted to say or ask?” Billy asked softly, shifting a little so you could get comfortable against him.

You stayed silent for a few moments, thinking over all of the things you wanted to ask, wondering what you had the right to ask. “What causes it? What makes you feel like everything is... too much? I’ve only ever seen a vampire lose control from hunger...”

“Sometimes it’s hunger,” he offered reluctantly, “other times it’s just... I don’t know. Even before I was turned, I was never any good at controlling my emotions. And, now, I feel like I’m constantly fighting myself. When I’m with you, I feel like I’m drowning. Everything about you; your scent, the taste of your blood, the way your heart races... it’s a lot to try and ignore.”

Although the words were spoken to you, about you, you knew better than to read too much into them. It was the constant proximity, he probably felt that way around any human after enough time. It wasn’t because he felt anything for you.

“That sounds exhausting.”

“It is,” he admitted, waiting for a beat before asking; “why did you apologise? I lost control but you apologised.”

“Because I -” you stopped yourself before the lie managed to leave your lips. It hadn’t been your fault, as difficult as it was for you to accept that fact, you knew it was true. “Because I’ve always been made to feel like it’s my fault when bad things happen to me. The night we met, you asked me what I was running from, and that’s part of it; I was raised to feel ashamed and believe I deserved everything bad that happened to me.”

You heard him inhale sharply before he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. He was silent a moment before speaking again.

“Who left you?” He asked softly. You lifted your head, frowning. “Last night when you asked why I was leaving you it just… you sounded hurt, like someone had left you before…”

“My sister,” you answered, “she left home when she was eighteen and my parents disowned her because of it. She said she'd come back for me, but she never did.”

“Why did she leave?”

“My parents wanted her to marry a guy she didn’t want to marry.”

“Is that why you left?” He asked and immediately seemed to regret it when your gaze dropped. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that.”

A moment later, you snuggled back into his side and closed your eyes. “How long until you have to go to work?”

“I can stay another twenty minutes,” he told you softly, slipping his arm around you. He was silent for a few minutes, before letting out a slow exhale. “I’m not going to be able to see you for a few days, it’s not safe for me to be around you while you’re...”

He didn’t have to say it for you to understand and, as much as you wanted to argue with him, you knew it wouldn’t be fair to try and force the issue. Now that you had some idea of how he felt and how much of a struggle it was for him to be around you sometimes, you knew Billy needed space.

“It’s okay, I understand.”

You stayed that way for another twenty-five minutes until you gently reminded Billy that he was going to be late for work. He didn’t seem to want to leave you and it made your heart ache to think about why that might be. Though, rationally, you understood that it wasn’t you; he was just tired. You were finally starting to understand just how difficult and exhausting it was for him just to get through a day.

He gave you a soft kiss and told you that he’d see you again soon.

The next morning when you woke up cramping and feeling terrible, until you found that he’d left a gift basket in your kitchen, filled with things you might need over the coming days; painkillers, chocolates, a new smart-watch with a cycle tracking app, a heating-pad, various toiletries and a large teddy bear with a note pinned to his chest.

I thought you and Bill the Beagle might want some company.

Take care of yourself. I’ll see you soon.

Butterflies filled your stomach at the thoughtfulness of the gifts and, later that afternoon, when you left blood for him, you couldn’t resist leaving him a note of your own.

Thank you for your considerate gifts. William the Bear is a wonderful addition to my growing stuffie collection and the chocolates were lovely. Hope you have a good night at work.

xoxo

The next day you felt even worse but, again, you were pleasantly surprised when you managed to drag yourself to the kitchen to get breakfast and some coffee. There was another box of chocolates and another note waiting for you.

William is a terrible name for a bear. I didn’t expect you to get through the chocolates so quickly, remind me to stock up next month. I hope you’ve not been watching Black Sails without me.

Take care

And, of course - of course - you had to reply, leaving your note with his blood again.

I happen to like the name William. I think it suits him. He looks like a William. I hope you’re not trying to shame me for enjoying the chocolates, truffles and caramels are my weakness. Don’t worry, I’ve not been watching anything without you, I’ve been reading. You were right, Jane Eyre was a very apt choice.

xoxo

His notes became your reason to get up in the morning, though they were a bittersweet reminder of his noticeable absence in your life. It filled you with a strange yearning and an uncomfortable sadness to think about him out there on his own. But that was a silly thought. You didn’t know anything about his life outside of the penthouse, about his work or his friends, maybe he wasn’t even noticing your absence.

(Or maybe he felt it just as much as you did.)

Okay, I have to ask; what does a William look like? Of course I’d never shame you for enjoying the chocolates, but now you’ve told me your weakness I might have to use it to my advantage. I hope you’re enjoying Jane Eyre more than you enjoyed Dorian Gray.

I hope you’re not feeling too bad. I miss our talks.

Your heart stuttered as you read and reread those four little words; I miss our talks. He missed you. Maybe not quite in the same way that you were missing him but, still, it made you long for him even more.

Well, in my experience Williams tend to be cute and cuddly, even though they look a little dark and brooding at first glance. Oh no! Please don’t use my weakness for chocolate truffles against me!!! (The extra exclamation marks are so you read that in a sarcastic tone.) Yes, I think I like Jane Eyre more than Dorian Gray - Mr Rochester kind of reminds me of you.

I’m feeling a bit better today, I should be fine in a couple of days. I miss spending time with you too. I hope you’re not too lonely without me around.

xoxo

You doodled a little picture of the teddy bear he’d given you on the corner of the note but gave him a grumpy looking face and a tag that read ‘my name is William’.

There was a strange feeling of embarrassment when you left the note and you almost changed your mind about it halfway back to your room, and you spent the rest of the evening wondering if it was a little too much.

So, the next morning, you felt a little reluctant to go into the kitchen, and had to take a deep breath before reading his note.

Dark and brooding?? I think you might have to elaborate, but I’ll let you save that for when I see you next. I hope that there will come a point in the book where Mr Rochester doesn’t remind you of me quite so much (I don’t know where you’re up to and I don’t want to spoil it).

I’m glad you’re feeling better. The penthouse isn’t the same without you. It’s strange, you’ve only been here a couple of months yet and it already feels empty without you. I miss you.

P.S. Is the doodle supposed to be me or the stuffie?

It felt like your head was spinning as you read, reread, and read again.

He missed you.

Billy missed you.

You spent half the day writing and rewriting your note to him, in one attempt confessing your feelings, in another acting completely blaise about his confession. Nothing you came up with felt right but the thought of not replying seemed worse.

I see what you mean about Mr Rochester... though I don’t know if I can completely rule out the possibility of you having a strange woman tucked away somewhere in the penthouse. It would certainly explain where all of the chocolates have been going.

I miss you too. I know what you mean, I feel the same way, like I’ve been here longer. But I suppose that’s how things feel when you get close to someone. Hope to see you tomorrow.

xoxo

P.S. I’ll never tell. An artist never reveals her secrets.

There was no end to your relief the next morning when you woke up finally feeling better, knowing that you’d be able to see Billy again. Part of you expected not to find a note, but there it was, waiting for you on your kitchen table, just like the others had been.

I can think of a less mysterious explanation for the disappearance of your chocolates, little hummingbird.

I’m not used to missing people. I’m not used to being close to them either. Some days I feel like my whole life has turned upside down since I met you. I can’t wait to see you again.

P.S. I think it’s magicians that never reveal their secrets, not artists.

Again, he left you searching for deeper meaning in every word, your heart aching for a man who seemed so lonely and alone, a man who didn’t deserve that life at all.

After breakfast you showered and washed your hair, wanting to look your best when you saw him again.

Slowly but surely, over the course of the day, your nerves started to eat away at you; what were you going to say to him? Were you going to pretend that the notes hadn’t happened and that their contents was just idle talk to help the other feel less alone?

You couldn’t sit still as you waited, counting down the hours before sunset, perched on the edge of the sofa and watching his door. The moment it started to open, you were on your feet.

Before he had the chance to even realise that you were there, you’d cleared the distance between you, throwing your arms around his waist and pressing your face against his chest. Billy let out a breath but, for the life of you, you couldn’t tell if it was a sigh of relief or simply because you were squeezing the air from his lungs.

“Hey,” he muttered, his arm slipping around you and holding you almost as tight as you were holding him.

A minute or two passed, neither of you moving or saying anything, until he pressed a kiss to the top of your head and your grip on him started to loosen. You didn’t pull away, but gave yourself enough space to look up at him, smiling shyly as your cheeks started to warm.

“Hi.”

“Hi, hummingbird.”

Neither of you seemed to know what to do or where you were supposed to go from there so, again, you both fell silent, still holding each other. Finally, you dared to reach for him, placing your hand on his cheek. His eyes closed and he leaned into your touch, and butterflies began to swarm in your stomach. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you lifted onto your tiptoes and pressed your lips to his.

It was a soft, chaste kiss, nothing at all compared to some of the kisses that you’d shared, but you felt his lips pull into a smile against yours before his eyes finally opened again.

“I missed you,” he admitted in little more than a whisper.

His hand moved to rest on your neck and you found yourself glad of his cold touch after what seemed like so long without it.

“I missed you too,” you confessed, “I - I missed you more than I probably should have.”

If Billy understood what you were trying to tell him, he didn’t show it. Instead, he just shook his head and smiled before kissing you again.

You sank against him letting him deepen the kiss and turn it into something else, something new. Normally when he kissed you it felt explosive and desperate, like he was laying claim to you, but this kiss was tender and filled with longing, like he was savouring being with you again. It stole the breath from your lungs.

“I missed you,” he muttered again.

“You already said that.”

“I know, I just -” his head shook, and he let out a huffed laugh, “- this has felt like one of the longest weeks of my life.”

“Have you been okay? Was it -” you hesitated, not sure you wanted to ask the question, “- was it easier without me around?”

Billy pulled back a little, frowning. “Why would it be easier?”

“The other night, you said you feel like you’re drowning when you’re with me,” you shrugged a little, letting your gaze drop for a moment.

Before the notes, you’d assumed that everyone made him feel that way, that it was just part of being a vampire for him. But, now, after his last note and after that kiss, part of you longed for him to admit that it was more, that it was you, that he felt something for you, that he cared.

“I was wrong,” he told you, waiting until you looked up again to continue, “I feel like I’m drowning without you.”

“Oh.” Whatever you’d expected, it hadn’t been that.

“It’s a lot. I know it’s a lot -”

“No,” you shook your head, “no, it’s not.”

“I wish I could’ve met you in another life. I wish it wasn’t like this.”

The words caused your chest to ache, understand what he was saying and why because you felt the same way; the situation was a mess and all either of you could do was make the best of it.

There was more you could say - more you wanted to say - but it didn’t feel like the right time, and it wasn’t fair for you to try and push anything when you had every intention of leaving him once you’d finished your year. So, instead, you pressed yourself against him and hugged him tight.

Once you’d managed to pull away from each other, you spent the next hour sitting with him on the sofa, talking while he drank, trading gentle touches and kisses until he needed to leave. You followed him to the elevator, not sure if he was keeping hold of your hand or if it was the other way around.

It took a couple of weeks for things to start to return to some sort of normal between you.

Karen noticed the first time she saw you, mentioning that you seemed distracted as you walked through Central Park together (thankfully with no sign of Madani in sight), but she didn’t bring it up until you were sitting together a week later, having lunch in a little coffee shop.

“Is everything alright with you and Billy?” She asked, deciding to just go for it.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” you answered. And it was fine. You were happy. You just could stop thinking about what he’d said to you and how you wished that things could be just a little bit different so you could both be happy.

“I know Billy’s my friend and you don’t really know me all that well, but you can talk to me if something’s bothering you. Or if he’s done something to bother you.”

There was something in her voice, something knowing that you really didn’t like. But how could she know what was going on with you and Billy, when you didn’t even know yourself?

“Everything’s fine, honestly. It’s great, actually. We’ve been really getting on lately; we’ve been hanging out talking about books and I’ve been making him watch Black Sail on Netflix,” you told her.

Karen nodded, though it didn’t look like she believed you, but she let it drop, leaving you with the sneaking suspicion that she knew a little more about the way Billy was than she wanted to let on.

Your quiet evenings with Billy slowly started to become a little more physical again, though neither of you seemed in a rush to try and push for sex again. Instead, most evenings he’d end up with his head between your thighs, or you’d slip your hand into his pants while you made out. And, even though you found yourself longing for more, you didn’t want to push him. No, you wanted to take things slowly, wanted to make sure that he wouldn’t get overwhelmed again before you took that next step.

Time seemed to fly by and it wasn’t long before the whole penthouse was being turned upside down in anticipation of Billy’s big party; live music, caterers, decorators and, of course, more blood than you felt comfortable seeing in one place. The whole place was transformed over the course of three days and, when the night finally came, you felt almost sick with nerves.

Even Billy had a strange energy about him, checking and double checking every little thing, including a security team from his company whose presence he seemed reluctant to explain to you. You watched from the sofa as he led them around the apartment, explaining where he wanted them and which areas of the penthouse were off-limits. He introduced you to one of them, a human man called Curtis who would be spending the night near the door to your quarters if you needed any help during the night (and, again, Billy didn’t explain what that meant).

A couple of hours before the guests were due to arrive, you went to shower and draw blood before doing your hair and makeup, and getting changed into your dress and shoes. For a few minutes you found yourself staring at your reflection, hoping to find some of the confidence you’d had that night in the dressing room with Billy.

When you stepped out into the penthouse, it only took a moment for his eyes to find you, his jaw threatening to drop as he took in the sight of you. His appearance had the same effect on you; his well tailored tux had you biting your lip.

“Wow, Russo, you really know how to pick them,” Curtis called across the penthouse, earning himself a withering look from Billy and causing your cheeks to heat.

Billy made his way towards you, not bothering to hide the way his eyes were taking in every inch of you. When he reached you, he placed a hand on your hip and kissed your cheek.

“I got you a present,” he told you, using his hand to start guiding you towards the library, pausing momentarily to tell Curtis and his team that they could go take a break before the party started.

Your heart was hammering in your chest as he led you into the library and towards the seldom used desk by the window. Waiting for you were three boxes, each beautifully wrapped in silver paper and tied with black ribbon. Without thought, you found yourself gripping Billy’s arm as your legs threatened to turn to jello beneath you.

He smiled softly, picking up the first box and handing it to you.

“Open it,” he instructed, managing to sound as excited as you felt about this whole exchange.

It felt wrong to destroy the immaculate wrapping, so you took your time, carefully untying the ribbon and peeling open the paper to get at the box. You removed the lid and there, in amongst black tissue paper was an ornate black and silver mask.

“It’s for the party tonight,” he told you when you looked at him for clarification, “we wear the masks until midnight and then take them off. It’s supposed to symbolise vampires being seen by society, but really it’s just an excuse to have fun while no one knows who you are.”

You laughed, head shaking. “Thank you, it’s beautiful.”

But he didn’t give you time to linger, gently taking the box and mask from your hand before offering you the next present, seeming to get more eager with each passing second. He was practically vibrating with excitement.

Your breath caught as you opened the second box. It was a beautiful choker style necklace with diamanté detailing - at least, you assumed that it was diamanté because you couldn’t even start to imagine how much it would have cost if they were real diamonds. For a few seconds you were lost for words.

“Here, let me,” he offered, pulling the necklace from the box before you even had the chance to answer him. Billy stepped behind you, gently draping it around your neck and fastening it for you.

Your fingers immediately reached up to touch it; it felt a little heavy around your neck and you’d never had a choker style necklace before, but the feel of it would be a constant reminder of Billy and you loved that.

“Thank you, Billy,” you finally managed, turning and wrapping your arms around him before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“There’s one more.” He reached for the last present but seemed a little more reluctant to hand it to you.

And once you’d opened it, you understood why.

“Oh...” said somewhere between shock and confusion.

You weren’t sure what you’d been expecting, especially not after the mask and the choker, but a new sex toy certainly wasn’t it. Your cheeks heated as you looked at the box, trying to make sense of it, the words discreet and remote play only confused you more.

“I want you to wear this for the party,” he told you, a hint of nervousness in his voice, “if you want to, I mean. If it’s too much, I get it. I just - I thought we could have some fun. And there’s going to be so many people, I guess I want to know you’ll spend the night thinking about me...”

Your cheeks continued to burn, part horrified by the notion, but a much larger part couldn’t help but find the idea interesting, arousing even. And, after everything that had happened between you, part of you was still longing for more.

“You want me to spend the night thinking about you?” You asked quietly.

“More than anything,” he answered in little more than a whisper, like he knew it was something he shouldn’t say.

It felt like your heart leapt into your throat for a few seconds and you struggled to swallow around it. All you could think about was that night a couple of weeks ago, how he told you it felt like he was drowning when he wasn’t with you, and you knew that you couldn’t say no to him. (You didn’t want to say no to him.)

“Okay,” you finally answered, “how do I...?”

“Let me,” he offered, perhaps a little too eagerly, taking the box from your hand, muttering something about how he’d cleaned it and charged it ready before wrapping it.

You bit your lip, watching as he pulled the purple silicone toy out of the box, knowing that he could hear your heart pounding. Then he kissed you, slipping his tongue between your lips and enjoying you for a few moments. When he pulled back he began to trace your lips with the tip of the toy before slipping it into your mouth, causing your cheeks to burn hotter.

You watched him suck his fingers, leaving them glistening with saliva before dropping to his knees and slipping them beneath your dress and into your panties. His free hand nudged your knee and you parted your trembling legs a little further while his fingers stirred between your folds, wetting you before slowly slipping into you.

You moaned softly as his fingers slowly started to pump inside you, twisting and bending, easily finding that special spot.

Your hands gripped his shoulders, feeling like your legs were going to give out. Another soft moan escaped you when he looked up at you, holding your gaze as his fingers filled you, over and over. You clenched around him as he licked his lips, knowing that he was imagining the taste of your arousal on his tongue.

“You can come whenever you need to,” he told you, smiling up at you like he was in awe of you.

“Billy...” you moaned, your voice muffled by the toy in your mouth, hating how close you were to falling apart.

Your walls clenched and tightened around his fingers again, but you were already so wet that you couldn’t hold onto him or make him slow. There was something about all of this that seemed so obscene, so dirty, and it just made you want it ever more. His fingers hit that sweet spot one more time and it was enough to push you over the edge. Your legs started to tremble and your thighs pressed together, trying to keep his fingers inside you.

And, all the while, Billy smiled up at you.

A needy whine slipped out when he pulled away his hand, but you soon fell silent when he took the toy from your mouth. Your eyes fixed on the bookshelf behind Billy as he inserted the toy, suddenly feeling embarrassed despite everything you’d just let him do. Once he was done, he straightened your panties and made sure your dress was perfect.

Shifting your weight between your legs, you tried to get used to the feeling of the toy while Billy stood up and took out his phone.

“Let’s give it a little test,” he said with an almost mischievous grin on his lips that caused you thighs to clench. Something told you he was going to enjoy this. A lot.

A sudden whimper was pulled from you as the toy started to vibrate.

Billy’s grin grew as his finger swiped on his phone, causing the vibrations to intensify. As good as it felt, a mixture of shame and concern threatened to ruin the moment.

“What?” Billy asked, stopping the vibrations the moment he noticed your discomfort. “If it’s too much, you don’t have to do this.”

“I want to,” you answered shyly, a little embarrassed by just how much you wanted to, “It’s just... what if someone realises?”

He offered a soft smile, placing a hand on your cheek.

“They won’t,” he told you with confidence. “It’ll be too noisy for anyone to hear it, and you’ll be good; you won’t come until we’re alone together and I give you permission.”

His thumb tenderly caressed your cheek as he leaned in to kiss you, his tongue slipping between your lips and wiping away any misgivings you might have had. You wanted to do this. You wanted to give Billy the comfort of knowing that you were thinking about him all night. And you wanted to do it for yourself too. You’d wanted to have new experiences and this was definitely new for you.

“Come on,” he said, slipping his hand into yours, “let’s go have a glass of wine and wait for the guests to arrive. It’s going to be a long night...”

Chapter Nine

End Note : So, originally, this chapter and the party were going all be one chapter, but then I got carried away with the cute notes between reader and Billy. That means next week will be a whole chapter of party shenanigans.

As always, thanks for reading/commenting/liking/reblogging, hope you're enjoying this as much as I'm enjoying writing it! Have a great weekend!

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters! If tagging doesn't work for some reason (aka Tumblr being dumb) I post most Fridays around 7:30 gmt.

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144 notes · View notes

redr0sewrites · 6 months

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I don't usually see him in that light but the fluffy vox headcannon was absolutely adorable and definitely a pleasant read. I'm not one to steal ideas but any chance of some Charlie comforting fluff at some point? Time with that cinnamon roll just seems perfect after a bad day.

ADJDHSHE TYYYYY!!! i had a bit of a shitty day today myself and i love charlie sooo yea ♥️

🥀Cw: none really, fluff, lil bit of angst to comfort

how does it feel to have the sweetest gf in the world?

seriously though, charlie cares about you so, so much. she's also pretty perceptive, maybe not incredible at reading people but emotionally intelligent enough to be able to tell when your upset. charlie is definitely very empathetic and once she knows someone well, she can tell how they feel very quickly. sometimes you won't even realize how upset you are until she asks you if you're okay, and the weight of the past day or so comes crashing down around you as you finally feel genuine comfort.

charlie is very cuddly, and when you're feeling down she's always willing to offer some hugs or affection of any kind. however, she's also very understanding in the case of you not wanting to be touched, and will offer to get some snacks and blankets and just sit together!

charlie is an amazing listener, always providing great advice and sweet solutions. you'll be laying with your head in her lap as she plays with your hair, rambling about your shitty day while she listens carefully, occasionally pausing to press a soft kiss to your forehead before you continue

charlie, like vox, would also be the type to sing to you when you're tired, or even dance with you after a long day. you both are definitely the type of couple to dance in the kitchen to soft music, and this often occurs unprompted. you'll be sitting, looking miserable and tried and charlie will scoop you up and pull you along until your both swaying to the rythm, and she'll twirl you and dance with you until giggles fill the room and a smile is on your face

YOU TWO DEFINITELY HAVE SPA DAYS TOGETHER!!! when you're overworked and exhausted she pleads with you to take the day off and you indulge, allowing yourself to be pampered by her. you guys will do facemasks, paint eachothers nails, do full skincare and haircare routines, everything! she'll even give you a massage, forcing you to relax. she truly does care about you more than anything

she def likes to talk to you about her day when you're too tired to rant, and she stays close to you when she knows that you're not feeling great. she doesn't want to be irritating, but she wants to let you know that she's there if you need her ♥️

overall, charlie is very caring and a TOTAL sweetheart when it comes toy our wellbeing. she genuinely cares so much about your feelings and you matter to her a lot, so she always wants to make sure your happy and content

"hey baby!! how are youuuu?" charlie grinned, opening her arms as you stepped inside the hotel. your smile didn't meet your eyes as you stepped into her embrace, leaning against her as she ran her hands through your hair. "m' fine," you murmur, pressing a kiss to her cheek as you pull away. charlie arches a brow, not pausing for a second before scooping you up into her arms. "you don't look fine," she hums, carrying you towards your shared bedroom. "you need rest! you look exhausted- what did i say about pushing yourself too hard?"

you chuckle at her endearing tone, her nose always scrunched up when she ranted and you can't help but kiss her again. charlie flushes, entering your bedroom and dropping you unceremoniously onto the mattress. you grumble for a second as she joins you, wrapping herself in a blanket and grabbing some snacks from her nightstand. "lets just chill, we can watch a movie!" charlie offers excitedly, and you nod, relaxing against her. soon, you feel your eyelids start to droop as exhaustion takes over.

i am so tired and i feel like shit but i love herrrrrrrr!!! i need more reqs for the fem characters fr‼️ sorry this is so short i am very tired and i cant breathe through my nose and my throat and head hurts and i am Trying My Best

#charlie x reader #hasbin hotel #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel charlie x reader #charlie morningstar #charlie morningstar x reader #charlie morningstar hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar headcanon #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x oc #hazbin hote fluff #hazbin hotel headcanon #charlie magne x reader #charlie magne

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tmpestuous · 2 years

Text

Like I Want You

part one.

summary: you and bucky have been best friends your entire life and it’s never been anything but platonic. so why do things get so bad when he gets a new girlfriend?

pairing: college!bucky x reader

word count: 4.4k

warnings: fluff, angst, childhood friends to lovers, female!oc, sexual references, mentions of grief and accidents, mentions of dead parents, bucky is down horrendous

a/n: here is me trying to convince myself not to only write avenger!reader fics that i have too many ideas for… i kinda hate this but it’s okay

"sometimes i wish you knew,

but i disguise the truth.

i say i'm happy, but i'm still stuck on us."

After a long and exhausting week, you were more than grateful that it was finally the weekend. Midterms during the Fall were always the worst–you felt they might have been even worse than finals week with how drained you were and no short vacation in your near future.

All you wanted to do was head back to your dorm, lay down, and relax. But it seemed like the universe always had different plans for you than you expected. A quick six knocks on your door and you knew it was Bucky. Though you were always excited to see him, you didn’t plan on seeing him so soon after a midterm that felt like it drained your entire soul away.

Nonetheless, you eagerly made your way to the door. Bucky always knew how to lift your spirits and you were sure this time would be no different.

You and Bucky had been destined to become best friends since before either of you were born. Your parents were very close to each other and having kids the same age only meant they made sure your friendship was in your cards.

What they hadn’t anticipated is just how close you and Bucky would be. You did just about everything together. When you were kids, you’d be in the same clubs. In elementary school, you both went to swimming classes together. In middle school, you’d joined the debate club while Bucky started participating in sports and you’d be right there to support him. He’d support you in your debate competitions. The same routine continued in high school, and now college.

Bucky was your support system and you were his. Of course, you both had your families who were just as supportive in everything you both desired to participate in, but nobody understood you both like you understood each other. When Bucky first woke up after his accident that resulted in him losing his left arm, you were the first person he asked for. You stayed with him throughout his entire recovery process and getting used to his prosthetic. He was there for you when your dad died and you had a rough grieving process. He was sympathetic to your loss, having lost his own dad, and helped you through every step of it all.

Nobody had you like Bucky had you. You were like each other’s lifeline, and nothing was gonna change that.

You and Bucky were both very comfortable with each other; you’ve slept in the same bed, given each other forehead and cheek kisses plenty of times, and you both even decided to be each other’s first kiss to somehow avoid heartbreak and embarrassment. However, you never attributed it to romance and you were sure Bucky didn’t either. You’ve had your fair share of relationships and so had he.

So why was it so shocking to open the door and see Bucky with his arm around a girl?

“Hey, bunny,” he said with a grin on his face, but you were more centered on the girl leaning her head on his shoulder and how you were usually the one doing so.

“Y/n?” Bucky said in a concerned tone, snapping you out of the weird trance you put yourself in. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you said confidently, though your head was very much in a daze. “I’m okay. Hi, honey. I wasn’t expecting you so early.” You said, not directly addressing the girl under his arm.

“I had class and was walking this way anyway since Alina, here, lives in this building,” he said as he smiled down at the girl next to him. “Alina, this is Y/n, my best friend.”

“Hi, it’s so nice to finally meet you,” she said while shifting her gaze to look at you, extending her hand for a shake that you politely participated in. “James has told me so much about you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too,” you said, though you were still slightly confused about the current situation. “Are you Bucky’s… girlfriend? Friend?”

Bucky eyed you with furrowed brows and widened eyes like you had embarrassed the living shit out of him. Alina shrugged her shoulders playfully.

“I guess you could say I’m his girlfriend,” she replied, though you could tell from her tone that she definitely wasn’t sure. “James and I have been seeing each other for a few months now, maybe it’s time to make it official.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” you said, crossing your arms across your chest. “Maybe I’ll see you around the building more often now that you’re a familiar face?”

You were definitely trying to be friendly, though all of the questions you were about to ask Bucky were floating through your mind like letters in some alphabet soup. She seemed nice, but there was something weirdly off about how you felt about her and Bucky. You were a bit hurt that after “a few months”, this was the first you were hearing of her. Not to mention Bucky’s metal arm, the one he held so much disdain for, was wrapped around her like it was second nature to him.

“Yeah, definitely!” Alina responded to your suggestion with a smile. “I should probably head back to my suite now, I have a lot of work to catch up on.” She turned to Bucky and gave him a long hug, but Bucky was staring right at you in confusion. After she pulled away, she interchanged glances between you and your friend with the brooding stare. “I’ll see you tomorrow, James. It was really nice meeting you, Y/n.”

After he said his goodbye and Alina walked down the hallway towards the elevator, Bucky made his way inside your suite behind you, shutting your front door.

“What was that all about, Y/n?” he asked hesitantly, not exactly sure of your feelings.

“I don’t know, James,” you emphasized on his name. He hated being called that. By anyone and everyone. You don’t even remember the last time his mother uttered his name with the exception of scolding him over doing something wrong. “You were seeing someone for a few months and didn’t even decide to mention it to me, which you’ve never done before, and then didn’t even give me a heads up before introducing her to me.”

“I didn’t know where I was going with her until recently, Y/n,” he said softly. “I think I might have feelings for her. We’ve hooked up a few times but you know I’ve never been tied down to the same person for a few months. I’m trying to find someone to be serious with.”

For some reason, in the back of your mind, you had wondered, Why not me? But you quickly shoved the thought aside. Bucky was your best friend, nothing more and nothing less.

“Okay, Jamie,” you said. “I trust you. I’m happy for you. I just wished you had told me sooner.”

You weren’t really upset with him. You honestly weren’t even that upset that he didn’t tell you. Something just felt off, but you wanted to be supportive of your best friend. It was the least you could do.

Bucky stepped toward you and cupped your face. “I know, bunny,” he said remorsefully. “I’m sorry. I was nervous things wouldn’t work out and I really wanted you to like her. I won’t keep anything from you again, okay?”

You smiled slightly as you nodded, looking up into his pretty, blue eyes. They were a lot more blue than you’d realized before and you found yourself weirdly getting lost in them. Your thoughts got interrupted by Bucky kissing your forehead three times and pulling you into a hug.

“I love you, bunny, so much,” he said before pulling away and looking in your eyes again. “Forgive me and watch a movie with me? I’ll let you pick this time.”

“You say you’ll let me pick every time and then deny every suggestion I make, Buck,” you said as you furrowed your eyebrows playfully.

“I mean it this time,” he fought back, sticking his pinky out in front of you. “Pinky promise.”

You intertwined your pinky with his, “Okay, honey, I forgive you.”

He smiled wide at you before grabbing your arm and dragging you to the living room. You were at least glad you were back to your normal banter and hoped it’d stay for longer than usual.

On the contrary, though, you were seeing less and less of Bucky as the weeks went by. You’d make plans and somehow, he’d always end up flaking for some obnoxious and random reason. The common denominator in almost every excuse? Alina.

First, it was when you were going to have your weekly study-dinner date together.

Hey, bunny. Alina’s taking me to her favorite food spot today and I totally double-scheduled the same day of our date by accident. Raincheck until tomorrow?

Then it was when you were both supposed to go back home for the weekend for a family event.

I won’t be able to go back home this weekend actually, bunny. Ma’s really upset with me but Alina and I are studying for a big exam together and I could use the help.

Then it was another study-dinner date. A movie night. Even just a regular hangout day.

You hadn’t seen Bucky for more than an hour at a time in the last week and a half. It was not only frustrating but hurt your feelings. You had always come first in Bucky’s life after his family, so to feel replaced was something you’ve never had to face nor address before. It also felt like Bucky didn’t care, which confused you even more.

One day, you had gone to a party with your suitemates when Bucky and Alina had caught your eye.

Bucky wasn’t one for big parties, he’d usually be off in the corner somewhere circling a drink in his cup after being dragged to said party by Steve and Sam.

But this time, he was in the middle of the crowd, dancing with Alina without a care in the world. He didn’t look the most comfortable doing it, but he was doing it for her. That was all you picked up on. Bucky caught a glimpse of you as he danced before whispering in Alina’s ear and making his way over to you.

“Hi, bunny,” he said with a slight slur in his voice. He wasn’t drunk but he certainly wasn’t sober either.

The stench of alcohol on his breath also smacked you right in the face like it had a tangible hand.

“Hi, Bucky,” you said, more concerned about his inebriated state that he’s rarely ever in without his buddies around. “Where are Sam and Steve?”

“They were acting lame and didn’t wanna come with me,” he said with a pout. “I don’t think they like Alina, they immediately said no after I said she had invited me. You like Alina, don’t you, bunny?”

Even though he had a few drinks in his system, you could tell Bucky was being mostly sincere. He valued your opinion a lot, and he also valued Sam’s and Steve’s. You noticed how upset he was and cupped his face to look at him.

“Yeah, yeah, of course I do, honey,” you reassured, though not totally sincere. You didn’t want to upset him any further and you didn’t have any other reason to dislike the girl other than the fact that she was taking your best friend away from you. “You should probably go back to your dorm and get some rest, don’t you think? It’s late and I don’t want you out drunk alone.”

“I’m not alone, silly bunny,” he said with a chuckle. “Alina’s here with me. She’ll take me back.”

“I know she’s here, Buck, I just meant—”

Then, as if on cue, Alina walked up and wrapped her arms around him, making you subconsciously tear your grasp from him. She didn’t even seem buzzed.

“Hey, James, you wanna go back to my room? We can have more fun there than here,” she said, catching a quick glance at you before staring in Bucky’s eyes.

He pondered for a bit, looking at her before looking at you. There was a bit of sadness in his eyes when he stared at you, almost as if he was hesitating to leave you here because she asked him to go. He looked back at her and nodded.

“Yeah, let’s go,” he agreed, which only stung you in the chest even further. He turned back to you and waved softly as they walked off, “I’ll see you tomorrow, bunny.”

He, in fact, did not see you the next day. Or the following. Or the day after that. You hadn’t even received so much as a text from him to let you know he was okay.

This wasn’t the Bucky you knew at all. This wasn’t your Bucky. But, being the good friend you were, you didn’t want to intrude on his relationship.

A few days after the party, you had gone to his suite to see Steve for a project you were working on together. The boys usually spent Friday nights playing some sort of game together; it was their way of bonding and de-stressing after a long week. That was exactly why Steve’s text took you by surprise on that Friday night.

Walking in through the door after Steve opened it, you saw Sam sitting on the couch watching TV. Bucky was nowhere to be found, his door sealed shut.

“He’s not here if that’s what you’re wondering,” Sam voiced, making you snap your head towards him. “That girl’s got him wrapped around her finger. I’ve never seen him act so much like a lost puppy.”

“At least you’ve seen him,” you thought out loud, almost immediately regretting it after the words slipped from your mouth.

Steve popped into the living room, taking his previous seat and looking at you. “You haven’t… seen him?” He asked incredulously, a look of complete disbelief across his face.

“Not since Saturday, and even that was an accident,” you shrugged, taking a seat in between the both of them.

You explained your recent, unwarranted dynamic with Bucky to the boys and they were more surprised than you were. They then explained their dynamic and how Bucky had even ditched practice to hang out with her, telling their coach he wasn’t feeling well. You sighed to yourself, not understanding how Bucky could ever get so distant from the people most important to him. It wasn’t like him at all, and it only made you even more upset to see Sam and Steve hurt by his lack of presence.

“I’m so sorry, kid,” Sam said, patting your shoulder lightly. “We figured he was avoiding us but we definitely didn’t think he’d ever do that to you.”

“It’s okay, I just wish he’d talk to me more.”

You stayed the night at their place, Steve eventually grabbing you a blanket from his room and making sure you were comfortable on the couch. Bucky had come back in later that evening after both Sam and Steve had been asleep, seeing you asleep on their couch. It broke his heart but he also didn’t have the guts to wake you up by taking you to his bed. He sighed to himself before walking into his room with tears glossed in his eyes.

You picked up more on Bucky’s sudden shift when you had gone home one weekend for a regular family dinner and he brought her with him. Bucky’s never introduced any of his flings to his mother before, knowing she was a woman of high standards. And boy, were her standards high today.

“Who’s this, James?” Winnifred asked her only son. You could tell she was serious when she used his first name, her eyes gazing between Bucky and Alina in curiosity.

“This is Alina, Ma,” Bucky wrapped his arm around her. “She’s my girlfriend.”

“It’s so nice to meet you, Ms. Barnes—”

“It’s Mrs. Barnes,” Winnifred corrected. “How’d you two meet, James?”

“We have a class together and got paired up for a few discussions, then eventually started talking and now we’re here,” Bucky answered carefully. “I thought it was time to introduce you and Becca to her.”

“Hm,” was all she said. “Well, dinner is soon, so we’ll get to talk there.”

Winnifred made her way towards the kitchen where your mother was finishing up on the food with your sibling, not uttering another word to Alina.

In the dining area, you were helping set the table for dinner with Bucky’s sister, Rebecca, when she cleared her throat to get your attention. Looking up at her immediately, she looked around to make sure no one was hearing her before she spoke.

“This dinner tonight isn’t looking like a great idea,” she spoke anxiously. Rebecca Barnes was not one to be nervous about many things, so you were more than interested to hear her talk. When you didn’t say anything, she continued.

“I overheard Ma talking about that girl Bucky brought home and it didn’t really sound pretty,” she whispered loud enough for only you to hear her. “I have no idea what happened but if I were that girl, I’d take the first bus back home.”

You shrugged. Nobody in either of your families knew that you and Bucky had been distant lately and you didn’t really make the effort to say anything anyway. You were trying your best not to overthink it and convince yourself that you were actually being replaced, though you really had no evidence otherwise.

Then, on cue, the lovely couple walked into the room. Alina met your eyes right away before you mentioned having to ask your mother something before dinner and excusing yourself from the dining area. Bucky watched you walk off in confusion, not sure if you were avoiding him or not.

The truth was that Bucky was getting a bit tired of Alina. He wasn’t one to flake on plans at all, especially not plans with you or his family. Prior to this, the worst he’d ever done was accidentally sleep through Sam’s birthday dinner. But someway and somehow, Alina always set up plans for them and Bucky, being the gentleman he is, didn’t want to make it seem like he was more interested in spending time with his best friend than his girlfriend.

But he was. Throughout the past few weeks, Bucky realized he depended on your presence a lot more than he’d been able to recognize—even before meeting Alina. He never thought much of it, seeing as though you’d been friends for so long and never tried to pursue anything further. He had simply thought you never had those thoughts about him, so why should he have them about you? In all honesty, he felt he was using Alina to distract himself from the possibility of wanting you instead, which did make him feel awful about himself.

Don’t get him wrong, he does like Alina. He thinks she’s pretty, smart, and has a great personality. But she’s not for him. At least he’s starting to think so. The knock of sense only came when Sam and Steve had decided to grill him about it.

“So what’s going on with you and this Alayna girl?” Sam asked, eyes laser-focused on shuffling the deck of cards in front of him.

“It’s Alina, and nothing crazy is going on,” Bucky said monotonously. “We’re just going with the flow.”

“Going with the flow,” Steve repeated slowly before taking a sip of his drink. “Is that what you’re calling it, Buck?”

“What do you mean?”

Sam finished shuffling the cards before staring over at Bucky. “He means we both thought you were definitely gonna end up with Y/n and then you brought the randomest girl in here and sat her in the living room instead of taking her back to your room.”

“Y/n’s my best friend, she always has been,” Bucky reassured. “Nothing’s gonna change that.”

Steve set his drink down. “Are you sure about that or are you trying to convince yourself of that? I don’t know, Buck, this girl just isn’t for you, in my opinion. I haven’t even seen you so much as call Y/n in the past few weeks which is very unlike you,” he defended. Steve knew that Bucky had to hear it from someone, and he was more than positive that you weren’t going to try to butt in out of fear of pissing him off or making it seem like you were meddling with his relationship. Nonetheles, Steve also wasn’t going to blow up your spot and mentioned your conversation with him and Sam. It wasn’t his place.

Bucky stayed silent as Sam dealt the cards. He hadn’t talked to you the way you usually spoke to each other for about a week now, and if he said he didn’t miss you, he knew he’d be lying straight out of his ass. But he didn’t want to disappoint the first girl he thought he had feelings for.

But did it really seem like you were the one for him? You’ve both had your relationships and seen the end of those, both for yourselves and the other, and you’d always have each other’s backs in the end. But it was almost like an unspoken rule that you’d never pursue anything with each other. You’d never mentioned anything about it, neither had Bucky, and you were both too close for that to possibly be ruined by a romantic relationship.

But God, had Bucky thought about it. He’d shove the thoughts out of his mind because he felt it was useless. But was it actually worth trying? Was he wasting his own time by trying to convince himself otherwise?

“Buck, it’s your turn,” Sam said, snapping Bucky out of his thoughts.

“Right, sorry,” Bucky said before placing one of his cards down on the pile and finishing his turn by picking up one. “Did you guys really think I’d end up with Y/n?”

Sam chuckled. “Hell yeah, man. You two are perfect for each other. I think you’re also the only two in this world who don’t see it.”

Their whole conversation that day lingered in Bucky’s mind every day since then. But he never had the guts to speak up about them or break things off with Alina. He was too nice for that. He was raised better than to waste a woman’s time.

He had just hoped he hadn’t inadvertently ruined your friendship in the process.

Bucky and Alina helped Rebecca finish setting up the table. There wouldn’t be too many of you but it was both your family and Bucky’s, so there were always at least 6 mouths to account for.

You made your way back into the dining room, your mom and Bucky’s following suit behind. Bucky’s eyes landed on yours, though you quickly diverted your attention elsewhere. Everyone took their usual seats, including Bucky, who always sat across from his mother and next to his sister.

This meant that the only available seat was the head of the table, which was Bucky’s father, George’s, seat. Much to everyone’s dismay, Alina decided to sit there for the sake of sitting next to Bucky.

It was almost like someone had pressed pause on a movie with the way everyone froze and looked at her, Bucky included. Both ends of the table had always been left empty for your father and Bucky’s. It was another unspoken rule between everyone, since they had both always sat on their respective ends and no one felt the obligation or desire to sit in either chair.

“You can’t sit there,” Bucky spoke up, his voice cracking a bit. “Sit somewhere else.”

“I was just trying to sit next to y—”

“I said, sit somewhere else, Alina,” he repeated himself, a lot more bass in his voice that reminded you of George himself.

Rebecca quickly stood up from her seat before making her way to the empty seat in between you and her mother. Alina then took her spot awkwardly, the rest of the table entirely speechless.

“Let’s have dinner, shall we?” Bucky said stoically.

That was the most awkward family dinner you’ve had in your entire life, and not to mention the most silent. Once everyone was finished, Winnifred was the first to leave the table, your mother following suit. The rest of you cleaned up the table, your sibling and Rebecca choosing to take care of the dishes.

Since you were in Bucky’s family home this time around, the only space you’d usually sleep in was in Bucky’s room. Your mom had set your bags there, which left Alina in a space of confusion.

“Why are your bags in Bucky’s room?” She walked into the kitchen and asked you with an attitude drooling off her tongue as you were placing the plates back in the cabinets after drying them off.

“My mom probably put them there, she took my things up,” you replied matter-of-factly. “I usually stay in Bucky’s room when we sleep over. We’ve done it since we were kids.”

Bucky overheard your conversation as he stepped into the kitchen, returning from consoling his mother from the sheer embarrassment he just faced with his girlfriend completely disrespecting their house rules. She didn’t know better, he thought, but he knew his mother wouldn’t take that for an answer.

“We can sleep in the guest room, Alina,” Bucky interjected before Alina could reply, not wanting another awkward situation in the same night.

“You’re gonna sleep in the guest room of your own home for the sake of letting a guest sleep in your room?”

“Alin–”

“I’ll move my things and sleep in the guest room, Bucky. There’s nothing to worry about,” you stepped in with a stern shift in your tone, before walking out of the kitchen to collect your bags from his room.

Bucky felt embarrassed again. You had heard him starting to ask her not to embarrass him in front of his family another time for the rest of the night, but didn’t care to eavesdrop on a conversation that clearly didn’t concern you. Not after he’d ignored you for weeks.

You didn’t speak to Bucky for the rest of the visit, driving back to campus without a single word of acknowledgment. It hurt, it hurt really bad. But you held your own anyway, and just tried to focus on doing your best without him.

part two.

#bucky angst #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes #bucky imagine #college!bucky

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salvatwh0re · 5 months

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Hi Nina. So I've finally decided to pack my shit up and tap into the void. I've been trying for a few months now. I've tried everything including subliminals, (I've legit listened to subs for 24 hrs straight) guided meditations, affirmation tapes, challenges, mind reprogramming exercises, affirming a couple thousand times, psych k, alpha meditation, lucid dreaming, tapping in using awake methods like staying still for over 2 hours, sleep paralysis, etc.

But I've observed that I'm not very consistent/persistent with any of these methods and so for once I've decided to make a routine and stick to it. Also, whenever I usually come across any challenge, I tend to follow it but find myself wondering if I would need anymore methods, so I include a couple more additional methods by my own cause I think the challenge might not be enough and I keep doing this, but then it gets exhausting and draining and sometimes i leave it halfway.

So now that I've decided to stick to one plan finally, what do u think I should add to my routine? Which methods do u recommend me using? Thankyou so much💖 also I'm very exciteddd for ur challenge!!

Hi!! i’m so glad that you came to this realization.

in my experience routines just hold you back. It just gets your mind used to doing these methods and not getting any where and when you are consistently doing these methods you will, for the most part (and for most people including myself) not see results. Creating a habit and a routine just gets your mind used to doing methods and not seeing progress and that’s exactly what you’re going to see every time you do your “routine”

So what I suggest you do is loop my void state subliminal or my lucid dreaming subliminal either before bed or overnight and just lie down in a comfortable position talk to yourself in your head and truly get yourself to understand just how simple it is and that you do not need to do anything at all in order to tap into the void state because it’s just that simple and that the only reason you have not been able to tap in is because you’ve been over complicating it and limiting yourself. I know it seems difficult to just automatically switch your belief but I promise once you just go through with it and allow yourself to make it a simple process it will be.

There’s no need for any extravagant methods you don’t need to do any rituals before you enter the void the only thing I would suggest you do before meditate because it’s always great to go in with a calm and clear and a positive mentality.

#void state #loassumption #void success #lucid dreaming #reality shifting #shifting community #the void state #void ask #subliminal results #subliminals

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catt-leya · 2 years

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The One (18+) || Rick Grimes

I dared to try a softer fic for you (I kinda needed it too) 👉🏼👈🏼💗 I hope you like it 💗

Summary: You would like to sleep with Rick and lose your virginity. But Rick is afraid not to be the right one.

Trigger: age gap (everyone is of age), some sweetness and my smutty stuff

There is a soft knock on my window and I look up from the book I was reading.

I slide off my bed and place the book on my dresser.

I quickly adjust my sleep shorts and open the window, "You're late."

Panting and grumbling, Rick props himself up on my windowsill and heaves himself into my room.

I quickly look down at the street and when I can't see anyone, I close the window and turn to face my visitor.

Groaning, he stretches out, "I'm getting too old for this."

Laughing, I look up at him, "Oh, come on. It couldn't have been that bad."

Grumbling, he brushes his boots off his feet and walks towards my bed to drop onto it, "You try loitering outside the house after a long day until your dad goes to sleep and then climbing up the wall to the 1st floor like an extreme athlete. Oh and my excuse why I am late: I fell asleep in the bush waiting for your dad."

Completely exhausted, Rick lies on my bed and I climb up next to him.

Sitting cross-legged, I place my hands on his chest and draw little circles with my fingers, "I'm sorry. I don't know what else he was doing in the kitchen for so long either."

Grumbling, he agrees and a smile steals back onto my lips, "We could just tell him."

I knew that would make him wide awake and he tears open his beautiful blue eyes, "Holy shit, no darling. You know damn well he'd kill me for dating his little girl. In case you've forgotten: I'm older than your dad, darling."

Chuckling, I put my hands on his shoulders and push myself onto his hips so I'm sitting astride him, "It was just a joke."

Eventually we would tell my dad, but the right time has yet to come.

When Rick arrived here in Alexandria with his group, I had been living here with my father for quite some time. Due to the fact that my mother passed away after I was born, it was always just my father and me. As a result, I grew up very sheltered, and even now that I'm a young woman, he wants to protect me from everything.

Even from Rick.

In the beginning, I became friends with Rick and I never really noticed how old he actually was because I felt comfortable with him.

The longer we spent time together, the more I fell in love with him and also told my dad more about Rick. Since my father is extremely attentive, he immediately noticed how infatuated I am with our leader and the conversation that I then had to have with him was anything but pleasant.

But what he discussed with Rick the next day was on a new level.

Up until that point Rick didn't even realize that I had a crush on him and then when my dad was talking man to man and telling Rick that "he should keep his hands off his little girl" and "he would cut his balls off if he even thought about sleeping with me".

Rick realized why I was always batting my eyelashes so exaggeratedly and why I kept grabbing his arm.

Up to that point, he never looked at me the way my father described, but then he couldn't think of anything else.

Every time I bent over, he couldn't help it and stared at my butt.

Every time I laughed about something he said, his heart couldn't help but do a little jump.

He swore he would never look at me that way or touch me at all, which clearly didn't work, seeing now how he puts his hands on my waist and looks up at me lovingly, "I'd climb to the 2nd floor for you too."

Chuckling, I ask, "Really?"

Playing agonized, he closes his eyes, "But please don't move your room."

Almost every night for weeks, Rick has climbed into my room through my window so that my father wouldn't notice that we both have skillfully ignored his warnings and are getting closer and closer to each other in my small room.

Slowly I bend over until I can lie on his chest and interlock my fingers under my chin on his chest.

From underneath I look into his face, "Rick?"

Questioningly, he looks at me, "Yes?"

I slide around a little on his hip and he grips me tighter to keep me from squirming, "Just lie still, please."

I bite the inside of my cheeks and notice how my hands get sweaty.

Rick has been coming to my room for weeks and we talk for hours, and in the end he holds me in his arms until I fall asleep cuddled up to him, but nothing more ever happens.

Every now and then we kiss, but even that is rare, let alone him touching me in any way that would be suggestive.

Rick is my first steady boyfriend and I actually have no idea at all how to seduce him, or if I'm even teasing him in that way.

That's why I set out to ask him about it, which is easier in theory than execution, when he looks at me this way and asks, "Darling? Is everything okay?"

Out of habit, I slide around on him again until Rick pulls me up firmly so that I'm sitting on his stomach and my face slides into his neck.

An "Uf" slips from my lips.

Confused, I sit up and Rick mutters, "Sorry. That was a little harsh, I know."

I shrug my shoulder and sigh softly, "It's okay. I wanted to ask you something."

Lovingly, he smiles up at me and I put my hands to his cheeks to play with his beard, "You can ask me anything you want."

Slowly I nod and gently tug on a gray hair, "Would you like to sleep with me?"

I'm not even done asking the question when Rick chokes on the air he inhales and his whole body shakes with coughing, "What?"

His voice is raspy and still he gasps for air, "Why are you asking me that?"

Embarrassed, I disengage my hands from his beard and nervously reach for the hem of my shirt.

It's not that I thought he was going to throw me on my back and take me right away, but that horror in his voice puts a serious damper on me.

I fight back tears as I say softly, "I don't know…you never try anything…and…I don't know…don't you want me that way?"

Gently, his hands slide to my thighs and I feel the cool metal of his wedding ring on my skin as he answers hoarsely, "Of course I'd sleep with you."

I dare to look him in the eye again, "Then how come you never touch me like that?"

Sighing, he presses the back of his head into the mattress, "I do touch you, darling."

In the dim light of the candle on my nightstand, I could swear his cheeks are flushed, restoring some security myself, and I rest my hands flat on his chest, "Never like you want to have sex with me. If you don't want me like that, then you need to tell me, Rick."

His hands slide to my hips and his body tenses beneath me as he murmurs, "I'd be your first."

Irritated, I frown.

I told him weeks ago that I've never slept with anyone before, and he's my first boyfriend, too.

At the time, he didn't seem to mind and I just assumed that Rick would eventually take my virginity.

I thought I would just have to wait until I was ready and he would initiate something, but I have been ready for a long time and he treats me more respectfully than he has to.

So I don't understand what he's getting at, "Yeah? I told you that weeks ago."

He finally looks at me again and sighs softly.

That's as far as I get before he gently pushes me lower on his hip again, pressing the bulge of his jeans against me.

Surprised, I tear my eyes open, "Oh."

I watch very closely as his cheeks turn an even deeper shade of red as he says softly, "I didn't mean to pressure you, and believe me, it really wasn't easy to hold back when you're always pressing your ass against me at night, darling."

It's the first time I've felt myself getting a man hard.

Rick tries to pull me back up, but I shake my head, "Don't."

His lips open slightly and I say softly, "I've never felt pressured by you before and I've never asked you to hold back."

The longer my crotch is pressed against his cock, the bigger the bulge becomes and I can see in his eyes how he forces himself not to move, "I don't want you to end up regretting anything. Our relationship isn't the showcase relationship you might want it to be and in a few weeks you won't feel like getting groped by an old guy and you'll wish I had never fucked you. Maybe you'll hate me that-"

I quickly put my hand over his mouth and stop him from saying any more crap like that: "Wow, where did you come up with that? Have I ever given you the feeling to be ashamed of you? I don't give a damn how old you are and to be clear now: I want to sleep with you. Only with you and no one else."

Firmly I press against his hardness and his fingers dig into my hip, "Darling-"

His voice is muffled by my hand and I undercut him again, "Just shut up and do what you want to do. If it gets to be too much or I just don't want to do it anymore, I'll tell you. I promise."

The uncertainty in his eyes is so unfamiliar that I feel like I'm taking his virginity, even though I'm the one who has absolutely no idea what to do.

Slowly, I release my hand from his mouth and look down at him, waiting.

The shadows of the candle surround his face and the light conditions with the blush on his cheeks make his beard look almost completely snow white.

I can't take my eyes off his beautiful face and instead lean over him to kiss him softly on the lips, which he barely returns and I whisper against it, "Rick?"

Slowly I move my hips and grind against him and he squints his eyes and softly breathes my name.

Again I press my lips to his and this time he returns the kiss.

Rick was my first kiss, too, and because even that comes up pretty short in our relationship, I wouldn't say I'm good at it.

But Rick has never complained either and that's why I always try to copy what he does.

As I gasp for a moment, Rick looks at me languidly, "Are you sure about this?"

I nod, "Yes, please."

For a brief moment he just looks at me, as if searching for doubt in my face, before lifting me slightly and spinning us around on my bed so that he's lying between my legs.

I get lightheaded at the feeling of his weight on me.

Of course, he's been close to me before, but never like this.

Not like this, with his hips resting between my legs and me pressing my breasts against his chest with every breath.

To the left and right of my head, he props himself up and looks down at me uncertainly: "Are you okay?"

My heart hammers in my chest and I place my shaky hands against his cheeks, "I don't know what to do. I have no idea what to do to make you like it."

I'm sure Rick will make me more than happy with his experience, but I want him to like it too, and I don't want to lie under him like a dead fish or do something that would completely ruin the evening.

Smiling, he lowers his head and grazes my earlobe with his lips.

My whole body is electrified as he whispers, "You can do whatever you want and I'll like it. You just have to breathe, darling."

Trembling, I take a deep breath and my breasts press against his body again.

My gaze is fixed on the ceiling above us as he kisses me behind my ear and then works his way down my neck.

I can't deny that he clearly knows what he's doing and then when he finds my sweet spot, I moan his name.

Immediately he lets go of me and I stare at him, thinking I've done something wrong, but he merely grins boyishly, "I've always wanted to hear that."

A hand of his slides over my body and he places his hand on the bare skin of my stomach, exposed by my shirt riding up, "But you have to be quiet, yeah?"

Meekly, I lower my eyes: "I'm sorry. It just feels so new."

The bed beneath me shakes slightly as Rick rolls off me and stays on his side beside me, "Hey, you don't have to apologize. I just don't want your dad to suddenly show up at the door because you called my name, darling."

He releases his hand from my stomach and reaches for my chin to bring my lips back to his.

Rick is so close to me that my arm is pressed to his chest and I want to turn to face him, but he slips his tongue into my mouth and releases his hand from my chin to rest it on my sternum and push me back onto the mattress.

I'm only noticing all of this in passing because I'm far too taken up with the way he's kissing me, completely claiming me.

The pressure he exerts almost drives me out of my mind and the fact that my skin will be all sore from his beard tomorrow doesn't matter to me at all.

The kiss is anything but innocent and I'm sure my father would go completely nuts if he could see Rick practically impregnating his little girl with his mouth.

I force myself to comply with Rick's instructions and not groan, which proves to be damn hard and my body begins to shake with suppression and excitement.

Then when I feel his fingers on the waistband of my sleeping pants, I can't suppress the whimper, "Rick."

His lips hover a few inches from mine and he tugs lightly on my waistband, "Is that okay?"

I'm completely breathless and I can see the excitement in Rick's eyes that he must see in mine as I breathe, "Yes, please."

My head falls back onto the mattress and I look down my body to see his hand slowly disappear under my waistband and he touches me over the fabric of my panties in my most intimate place.

Jerking, I thrust my hips towards him and my mouth hangs wide open.

He's barely touched me and yet I jerk my head around to him and yip, "More."

Smiling, he looks at me and makes a few motions over the fabric that almost make me beg.

But he leans in and kisses me softly on my open mouth, "Are you sure?"

Where I'm sure is that he's just teasing me with the question, but I don't care enough to groan softly and wrap a hand convulsively around the forearm that rests heavily on my stomach, "Rick, please."

Again keeping his gaze fixed on me, he murmurs, "As you wish, darling."

Agonizingly slow, he pulls the fabric of my panties aside and as his fingers touch my wetness, he moans softly, "Fuck, you're so wet."

Blinking, I look into his blue eyes and gasp softly, "Do you like me that way?"

Slowly he slides a finger inside me and my upper body comes off the bed.

I've done it myself sometimes, and especially on the days when Rick couldn't visit me in the evenings.

But never has it felt like Rick's hand between my legs and I barely catch him whispering in my ear, "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen in my life."

After a few thrusts with his hand, he slides a second finger inside me and I squint my eyes and press my free hand over my mouth to muffle my sounds, which now slip uncontrollably over my lips.

With his thumb he circles my clit and presses now and then directly on it, which almost brings tears to my eyes.

I'm no longer in control of my body and know full well that Rick is resting his head on one hand, watching me as I pathetically try to grind against his hand to get more from him.

Just when I think I'm not going to be able to take it much longer, he slides a third finger inside me and I feel like my heart is going to explode.

My breathing is erratic and I am a whimpering and moaning mess as I feel my entire abdomen tighten.

Rick must feel me tighten around him because he says softly, "Just let go, darling."

Reflexively, I move closer to his chest and when he presses on my clit again with his thumb, I'm done.

I push through my body and my toes dig into the bedding beneath us.

Again and again I tense around Rick's fingers, which don't stop thrusting into me over and over again, and I notice tears coming out of my eyes.

As my body relaxes, breathing heavily, I open my eyes and look back at my boyfriend, who looks at me as if I were the most adorable thing in the whole world.

Slowly he pulls his fingers out of me and brings them to his mouth.

I just stare at him as he licks them and feel like I could cum again at the sight.

Hoarsely, I bring out, "That was amazing," which makes Rick grin again and he kisses a tear from my cheek, "If you're already reacting that strongly to something like that, I'm dying to see what happens when I do you right."

Like one dying of thirst who has found water, I throw myself at him and press my lips firmly to his.

At first he's surprised by my force, but when he regains his composure, he returns the kiss and pushes me back onto my back.

His hair falling in his face tickles my cheeks and I gasp loudly, "Sleep with me."

I feel his hard cock against my leg, but still he says softly, "I didn't mean it like that. We can just leave it at that today if you want."

I bravely slide my hand between us and stroke the fabric of his jeans over his cock.

Immediately he pushes it further towards me and apologizes.

Gently, I smile at him, "I'm ready, Rick. If you want it too."

Shortly he just looks at me before he pushes away from me and I look at him confused, but he only stands up to take off his shirt.

My eyes are glued to his hands, which are exposing more and more skin piece by piece and I feel like I'm seeing him bare-chested for the first time.

I don't care that I'm staring at him and he does the same, as I am pulling my sleeping shirt over my head a lot more inelegantly than he does.

Completely motionless, I watch him unbuckle his belt and then lean over me, "Lift your pretty ass up, darling."

Never has his voice been so deep and rough as it is with these words.

It drips with arousal.

Immediately I do as he asks and allow him to remove my pants including panties.

Naked I lie in front of him on my bed and he lets his eyes glide over me with pleasure.

Every single inch of my skin he touches with his gaze and when he looks back into my face he says reverently, "To me you're perfect."

A lump forms in my throat and all I can do is watch him take off his pants and then his boxers.

Rick's no bodybuilder, but the muscles that point the way to where I need to look are clearly there, and I follow the signposts.

And how I follow them.

It's the first time I've seen a man completely naked and as I consider what I'm about to have inside me, I break out in a cold sweat.

Rick's fingers inside me was already quite tight and unfamiliar, but to take this thickness inside me seems almost impossible.

Quietly, his voice comes through to me: "Darling? Look at me, please."

Lazily, I look into his eyes and have to marvel as I see his cheeks take on a slight pink hue as well, "Do you trust me?"

Slowly I nod, "Yes, Rick."

He then moves back towards my bed and pushes himself over me so I can feel his hardness against my thigh.

Without breaking eye contact he pushes my legs a little further apart, "You really want to do this? You won't be able to undo it then."

I slowly awaken from my stupor and place my sweaty hands on the back of his neck, "I know. You give me everything I've ever wanted, Rick. You make me feel safe and I know you respect me. I want you to be the one."

I feel his cock twitch at my words and I tug lightly on the curls at the nape of his neck, "Just be careful, please. You're…so big."

Gently he kisses my cheek, "I promise. If it gets too much for you I'll stop. Try to relax and stay loose, okay?"

I nod and with that sign Rick adjusts himself so I can feel his tip at my entrance.

Unintentionally, I tense up and he puts a hand on my cheek, "Relax. I'm not hurting you."

He strokes my swollen lower lip with his thumb and my concentration turns to it.

Once I stop tensing, he pushes into me inch by inch.

High-pitched whimpers escape me at the feel of him stretching me, and I squint my eyes.

Rick's body shakes with restraint and he gasps, "You're so fucking tight. Oh shit I can't take this for long."

On and on he pushes and my heart threatens to jump out of my chest.

Loudly I moan Rick's name, "Rick…oh god…"

Immediately he presses his hand to my mouth, "Shhhhh. I know, darling. I know. But you have to be quiet."

The feeling of having his hand on my mouth only makes everything more intense and I push myself towards him.

I open my eyes and see Rick biting down hard on his bottom lip, panting hoarsely, "Can I…God…can I get inside you completely?"

I don't know how much is missing, but with his hand on my mouth, I nod and gratefully moan into it as he sinks completely inside me.

His arm that he's leaning on gives up a little and his upper body presses harder against me.

Panting, he apologizes and I wrap my legs around his waist.

It's like a natural movement and Rick seems to like it.

So I pull him even closer like this and now he's the one squinting his eyes tightly, "Can I move? Please?"

Until now, I hadn't even thought about how much this level of self-control demands of him, and I'm so incredibly grateful that he's still giving me the time to get used to him.

Again, I press closer to him and murmur into his hand, "Yes."

Trembling, he pulls back on me, only to press himself back into my tightness, not taking his eyes off me for a second.

I wouldn't say it feels uncomfortable, but it's different than his fingers that were inside me before.

It's much more intense and he's a lot bigger.

I feel every vein in me and am gripping his hair tightly as he thrusts a little harder than before and a high pitched moan escapes my lips.

Gasping, Rick lowers his head to put his lips to my ear, "Can you keep it down? I'm taking my hand off your mouth."

Hectically, I nod and take a gasping breath as he takes his hand from my mouth and when I think I can breathe normally again, he slides his now free hand between us and runs his finger over my clit.

Uncontrollably, my insides tighten so much around his cock that he bites down hard on my neck to hold himself back and not wake my father a few rooms away.

The pain is nothing compared to his hips slapping against my thighs in a steady rhythm.

Without a sound crossing my lips, my mouth forms a perfect 'O' and hearing Rick muffle his own deep moan against my neck goes to my head.

Spasmodically, I press closer to him and slide my hands from his neck to his broad shoulders.

His muscles tense with each thrust and feeling the movements under my palms is intoxicating.

This beautiful man is on the edge of his self-control and that's only because he's fucking me and I'm barely doing anything but spreading my legs for him.

I barely recognize my voice as I whimper, "Kiss me."

Moaning and messy, he places his lips on mine and I dig my fingers into his skin.

In that moment, I'm incredibly grateful that my bed is relatively sturdy and doesn't squeak like the bed I had in my room just a few months ago.

I'm barely aware of him murmuring into my mouth, "Let go, darling. Just let go."

Trembling, I yip his name and my body rears up aimlessly.

My whole body is tense and that's when I feel the knot loosen.

Hard, he presses his mouth to mine, muffling my attempts to cry out his name.

That's all I'm capable of, and all I can think about is Rick.

The way he moves above me and inside me.

How he kisses me and his body feels pressed against mine.

Completely out of it, I'm aware of him twitching inside me and growling hoarsely, "Fuck, you're so good."

He lifts his head to face me again and I blink lazily up at him as he enters me with the final thrusts and I feel like I won't be able to take one step tomorrow.

Gently, he pushes my chin up and whispers harshly, "Are you okay, darling?"

I'm not sure how I imagined sex, but certainly not like this.

This level of intimacy and surrender has me fully knocked out and I let my hands slide to his chest, "Oh my God."

Alarmed, his eyes dart over my face, "I was too rough wasn't I? Shit, I shouldn't have covered your mouth. You couldn't even tell me you didn't want more. Darling, I-"

With all my strength, I push Rick off of me so that he comes to lie on his back next to me and I can lie down on his chest.

Surprised by my sudden strength, he stops talking that crap and I sigh, "'Oh my God' I meant positive. That was amazing."

I can see a weight fall off his shoulders, "So you liked it? You don't regret it?"

With my hand, I draw little circles on his chest and say, "With you, I have no regrets, Rick."

The silence that follows is so pleasantly relaxing that it takes me a few minutes before I dare to say anything else, "I have a question."

Rick grumbles something that I take as agreement and I take a deep breath, "Can you do that again? Right now?"

Nothing happens for a moment before his chest vibrates with laughter under my ear, "Right now? Nah, but if you want I can show you something else."

Immediately I sit up and look at him pleadingly, "Yes please."

The boyish smile reaches his beautiful blue eyes and the warmth in them blows me away.

He looks at me as if I am the only thing in the world to him.

Like I'm all he needs to breathe.

And I look at him the same way.

@hail-yourselves @bean-is-reading @chanlvr2 @criminalwalkingsupernatural @sunshinevirus @toxic-ink @kingtwhiddleston @bloodycherry22 @vane28282 @bamslover @acciocarlgrimes @revesephemeres @emo-potato-virgil @targaryensswp @tropodyn

(If anyone else would like to be tagged, just let me know 🤭)

#rick grimes #rick grimes fluff #rick grimes smut #rick grimes imagine #twd x reader #twd #the walking dead #rick grimes x reader

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pomefioredove · 2 months

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i love ur character analysis posts .. whag do you think of azul . he gets written really ooc sometimes but u nail every character soooo

ALRIGHT. preemptive apology. this gets kind of depressing because I relate to azul on a personal level. I don't think about him as much as I should... so.

azul is driven by fear.

going through something traumatic, like bullying, or abuse, or isolation, or anything, can make you more bitter and resentful towards yourself than that which traumatized you. I have a tendency to blame myself for what other people do to me. not my actions, mind you, not something specific I said or did, but for simply being... me. I think azul works in a similar way. I think he hated himself, hates himself, for just being. and he punishes himself pretty harshly for it.

he's terrified of being the azul who was traumatized. he has this innate desire to kill and bury the him who was hurt, not because he doesn't recognize them, but because he recognizes them too much. he hates them. he resents them. he blames them. he blames himself, and so he punishes himself.

it's misleading. it feels like moving on, but all it really is is repression. and you end up doing a lot of things to yourself that you regret. I went through a pretty extreme version of this after I got away from my abuser. I forced myself to adopt a new personality, I moved, I even had my name legally changed. I also destroyed every single picture of me that I could find. it's coping but it doesn't help, not really, it just feels like running away. it's never enough and you always have this sickening feeling in the pit of your stomach that you will always be that person. weak, helpless, afraid.

living through something that takes your autonomy and shatters your sense of self, such as abuse, or bullying, makes you feel powerless. azul does what he does because he wants control. he wants to feel powerful. he wants to feel safe. he can never, ever be weak again, because he blames own weakness for making him a victim. he does not want to be a victim.

but his need for control ends up isolating him just the same, anyway. he's... sort of friends with the tweels, but not really, and he has no one else at NRC. he was so obsessed with not being at the bottom of the social order that he made his own order, put himself at the top, and is still lonely. he wants to be respected. he wants to be needed. but he doesn't want to be needy, no, he's so mistrustful and refuses to let himself rely on others to the point where he's still... alone.

"azul" becomes more of a brand than a person. everything about him is so meticulously crafted that he can't even breathe without lying. it's just second nature to him at this point. there's still a very scared and very sad child somewhere in him, and he is doing everything in his power to hide them. and it's exhausting to live as if you're always being judged. I think he lacks a sense of self.

he cannot be a victim. that's his whole personality. he refuses to even believe he was a victim. he moves from one extreme to the other, becoming someone who victimizes others, perpetuating the cycle. I think that victims find comfort in being bad people because it makes our trauma feel justified. we can't seem to accept that abuse happens for no reason, so we find new ways to blame ourselves. "I deserved it because I'm a bad person", but you're not, so you start doing bad things to make it feel like you are. it's about control. and it's all a facade.

I like azul. I wish the narrative would go a little further with him and this idea. I think he's a sweetie he just has such a deep-rooted hatred of himself that he's repulsed by the mere idea of letting his guard down.

I don't usually read azul fics so this all might be how people characterize him anyway, idk, I'm going off memory lol

#*ੈ✩‧₊˚asks!#idk how to tag this #abuse tw #this is COMPLETE nonsense by the way I'm just rambling

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mrs-santoss · 2 years

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I miss you - Neymar Imagine

Summary:

Neymar is in Qatar for the World Cup, and you haven't been able to travel there yet because of work. You Facetime each other every night, he needs your support every day. I get home and throw my bag and jacket on the couch, and I run to pick up my laptop to call Ney. I don't even bother to change into something more comfortable first. I click on his contact, and he answers in a matter of seconds. His cute face pops up on the screen, making me tear up. It's been 3 weeks since I last saw him in person. "Hellooo, linda. I miss you," he blurts out immediately, making his cute puppy face; he knows I can't resist. "Hii, meu anjo. I miss you too. How are you? "Are you feeling better since the injury?" I say back to him, smiling now that I'm talking to him after a stressful day at work. "Yeah, it's healing finally. "I'm hoping to be on the next game after this one," he responds. "You will, bebê." You'll come back stronger than ever. I'm actually very excited to tell you that I have booked a ticket to Qatar. I leave in 3 days, so I will be there to see you play the next game." I say, waiting for his response. "YOU WILL? Why didn't you say that sooner? Oh, god, finally! I have missed you so much. I need your hug very badly." he says excitedly after hearing the news and blows me a kiss through the camera. "I wanted to surprise you right now. I miss your presence here so much. Things have gotten very stressful at work, which is why I couldn't take a break earlier. But, I'm going to be there in a few days, everything is perfect, don't worry about me, bebê." I say, I don't want him to worry about me and lose his focus on the competition. "Y/N, meu amor. You work so hard, you need to take a break sometimes. "Your time here will help you relax also." He says this to me in a comforting manner.

I tear up a little bit. I miss his touch, his smell, his voice, everything. This is supposed to be harder for him than me, he's the one away from home. I can't let him know I'm sad, that'll just make him worry, but he always sees through me. "Y/N?" he asks after a brief silence to which I do not respond.

"Bebê? Can you look at me? He says trying to make me lift my head up so he can talk to me.

I blink a few times, trying to make myself more presentable before I look into his eyes.

"Yes, Ney?" i say back to him.

"Please, don't cry, meu amor. It'll only be 3 more days before we see each other." He says, he wants to comfort me and lighten the mood. "I know, Ney. I'm sorry, I'm just extremely tired, and you not being here makes it 100% worse." I say back at him, now more calm than before. "Why don't we fall asleep "together" tonight too? I can see you're still wearing your work clothes, go change into something comfortable and lay on the bed." he says while also getting ready to go to bed himself. "Of course, amor. I'll be right back." I say and I put the laptop on the bed in the bedroom. I get something comfortable to wear from Ney's closet, obviously. Before he left for Qatar, I "stole" a few hoodies from him so I can still smell him after he's gone. I put on an oversized black hoodie with nothing but underwear since It's warm at night and the hoodie covers my butt. I run to the bathroom really quickly to wash my face. After I'm done, I go back to the bed seeing Neymar already done this his routine laying in his bed waiting for me. "I'm back, amor." I say while getting under the covers and placing the laptop on Ney's side of the bed facing me. "Aww, meu anjo. You are wearing my hoodie." he says to me in a cute voice. "Yesss, this makes me feel less lonely." i say back to him.

Neymar's POV:

I could tell she was exhausted from the moment she called me. It broke my heart a little, but I felt much better when she told me she would be here in a few days. Her voice calms me down, and her eyes make me forget every burden in my life. I wanted her to get a good sleep, so I told her to go change and lay on the bed. I did the same night routine much faster than she did, as always, and I laid back on my hotel bed waiting for her. When she came back, she was wearing my favorite black hoodie, which she "stole" from me. She looked extremely cute and cozy; I would just hop on a plane right now and lay there next to her. I was talking to her about my day when I realized my voice was putting her to sleep, so I kept talking. She was only responding with "mhm" or nodding her head. I keep talking until I hear her cute little snore from the laptop. "Sweet dreams, meu anjo. I can't wait to see you. Good night!" I say that to her even though she's passed out by now. I put my head on the pillow myself and fell asleep to her beautiful face and cute snores.

#neymar imagine #neymar x reader #neymar imagines #neymar #neymar masterlist #neymar jr #neymar jr imagine #neymar jr imagines #neymar jr fanfiction #neymar jr x reader #football imagine #football imagines #football masterlist #fanfiction #imagines #mbappe imagine #mbappe x reader #mbappe imagines

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starcrossedxwriter · 1 year

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Built for Love Part 10 (MBJ x Famous Black OC)

Warnings: Depictions of violence, trauma, lots of angst, recovery

A/N: ok this one is a longgggg doozy… gonna apologize in advance cause it is really just all angst lol BUT I'm hoping there's a treat in here that'll make y'all hate me less? lol maybe?? Enjoyyyyy!

It took everything in Charlotte physically and emotionally to drag herself to the theater the next day for opening night. She was physically exhausted, only sleeping in increments of 30 minutes or so before her own screams jolted her awake. Mentally, she was hanging on by a fraying thread. She had not felt this jumpy in so long, every unexpected noise causing her to look over her shoulder every five seconds, even in the comforts of her own home. But nothing was worse than the physical pain she was in. The bruise on her side was far worse without the adrenaline of the night before pumping through her veins. The cry of pain she let out when she first moved that morning sounded more like a dying animal than a person.

The entire drive she dreaded the facade she’d have to wear all day. She did not know how she did this years ago, mustering up her last kernel of strength to plaster a stupid fake smile on her face. Perhaps because back then, it was a means of survival and this situation was caused by her own hubris. She wanted to fight, she wanted to do this her way, but this path was lonely and more difficult than she thought. And reality was sinking in fast that she was, perhaps, not strong enough to deal with him alone this time.

She did not regret staying, that was the right decision. But she just wished Michael was here. She wanted him here, not to do anything, but just to fold her up in his soft embrace. He was the epitome of safety and she severely underestimated how alone she would feel without him here, even just for a few days. She was balancing on a tightrope and the bungee cord that secured her was nowhere to be found. She already made one wrong move, she could not let herself think what risk another one would bring her.

Here he is, about to ruin another special moment for you, she thought to herself as her driver weaved in and out of traffic to get her to the theater.

He doesn’t have to, another voice spoke up louder.

She thought back to their argument in the hallway the night before. Until she found herself on the floor beneath him, she had been proud of herself. The old her would have never said a fraction of those things to him. But she had squared her shoulders, looked him in the eye, and pushed back. Sure, she could not physically win a fight against him. But last night proved the psychological power he held over was indeed gone. And despite the emotional distress and pain she was in, that small act felt like a win in and of itself.

That small win was all the strength she needed to push through. Today was her moment, something she’d worked for for years. He could not take this away from her, the bruise he gave her could not take this away from her… not if she didn’t let him.

“You look like hell. You good?” Malcolm remarked as she dragged her feet past his dressing room.

She glanced back at him and gave him a smile that was more like a pained grimace. “Remember what you told me about fighting? Well, I got knocked down… trying to pick myself back up again.”

He raised his coffee cup as if to salute her. “That’s all you can do.”

As the day went on and she did interviews with the camera crew recording footage of opening night and they did a final rehearsal of one or two of the numbers, she did find her exhaustion and pain slowly dissipate. She knew it was all in her head, she was still very much both exhausted and in pain, but she just found the strength to ignore it. The stage was her home, her domain, and she felt at her strongest here. It was the flicker of light that she could always cling to when everything else felt dark. And so she held onto it, seized it with every fiber of her being and allowed that to give her whatever she needed to get through the day.

There was no other option, no other bungee cords to fall back on. It was just her and she had to pull herself, hold herself up, and shine bright even as she wanted to fall. Besides, she had not done all this, the secrets and lying, to let him psych her out so close to game time. She could fall apart when the show was over, but until then, her own strength was all she had. And that’s what she held on to as the day passed and showtime drew closer.

By the time she slid on her dress, she felt more like herself than she had in the last two weeks. She was ready a bit early so she slipped out and snuck to the stage. As everyone hustled around her to prepare for showtime, she watched through a slip in the curtains. The audience was almost full already. Her eyes followed the front row, recognizing some folks like Malcolm’s wife, Vanessa. She did a double take when she saw who sat next to her.

“Michael,” his name came out as a breathless sigh of relief. She did not know whether to cry tears of joy or have a panic attack. On the one hand, she could already see her web of secrets untangling right before her eyes. Even if they made it through the night without Michael and Shaun’s paths crossing, the moment they got home, there would be no hiding the angry black and blue bruise that covered her side. And she knew Michael was too smart to believe any lie she could come up with to explain it away.

However, as she looked at him, her fear of his reaction did not outweigh the joy and relief she felt at seeing him. He came back to see her, to be there for her on the biggest night of her career to date. And even if all her secrets fell apart, she could not feel anything other than gratitude and love for him for sacrificing his plans for her. Every day, he chose her and made her feel loved, supported, and safe. He did not need to say a word to her and his very presence made her stronger. Knowing he was nearby made her feel lighter and more at ease. She was no longer alone and felt as if someone attached more bungee cords to her to steady her.

She returned to her dressing room and pulled out her phone. She walked around her room, texting him.

Els: Funny… I don’t remember LA looking quite like where I work? 🤔

She did not have to wait long for the response bubble to emerge and her phone to ding.

Bakari: How’d you spot me? It was supposed to be a surprise for the end of the show ☹️

Els: I have eyes and ears everywhere 😉 seriously, though something happen in LA? Not that I’m not happy to see you but why’d you come back early?

Bakari: Something told me I was needed here more. Was I right?

She nodded as if he could see her. He knew her far too well. She did not even bother lying this time.

Els: Yea you were. Thank you ♥️♥️

“Maybe I’ll go introduce myself,” a voice whispered behind her, Charlotte’s heart sinking. “I always liked him, great actor.”

She should have known he would not let the day go by without finding some way to torture her. And she knew him stopping by minutes before show time was not a coincidence. But she refused to let him throw her off her game like he did at rehearsal.

“Hit me again and I’ll scream bloody murder,” she threatened as she turned around. She could tell he did not believe her but she knew it was effective. This was just as much his job as it was hers. He would not risk someone seeing him hurt her.

He merely sneered at her and shook his head, raising his hands in surrender. “Nope, just came to wish you luck. And say I’m a bit surprised to see you. It must be hard to dance with that?” He gestured toward her side.

“I’ve performed through a lot worse, remember?” She reminded him through gritted teeth. “This was always the one thing you couldn’t take.”

She studied him for a moment as he sucked his teeth in annoyance. She could tell he seemed a bit disappointed and frustrated by that fact, by the knowledge that she was not in bed nursing her side, crying over what he had done. Instead, she was here with a smile on her face, ready to do her job.

She had always felt like he had taken everything from her, broken her and reduced her to nothing. But this very moment was proof that he hadn’t. Every time she got up and performed with bruises or broken bones or any other injury, she silently told him that this was the one thing he could never have, the one thing she would never yield to him. That she would fight through all the pain to make it onto that stage night after night, to savor the few minutes every day where she could be the version of herself he tried to destroy. This was that flicker of light and he had always tried to stomp it out. Her brain was immediately filled with recollections of all their worst fights, all of which coincided with important shows or huge moments in her career. And every time, Charlotte never faltered, she never fell down, she never broke. She just bandaged herself up and kept moving. Not even the threat of him looming had driven her away this time.

“You know, I’ve been trying to figure out why you did all this. You want your plaything back, want that control again, sure. But this,” she gestured around them. “Is a fucking insane way to get to me. But now I know why, because this was the one thing you could never take. You took everything from me for years, reduced me to nothing but a shell of a person. N-No light, n-no personality… no agency. Nothing. B-But when I went to work a-and got on stage, even if it was for only two hours a night, I became something again. Was reminded that I was more than the nothing you made me believe I was. And you hated that. This is the last piece. You take this, you destroy my career, and I’d really have nothing.”

“I already did,” he took a menacing step toward her. Charlotte did not move though, forcing her body to stay rooted like a tree. She did not know where this sudden insurgence of strength came from but she welcomed it. For the first time, she had the upper hand. And she was going to use it. “I already took it once. You don’t think I can do it again? You were nothing back then and you still aren’t. A pretty face, a famous nigga on your arm, a nice voice… None of it changes what both of us know. I’m the only one who can love you like you deserve. I’m the only one who knows the truth about you.”

And for the first time that he told her that, she thought about all the ways in which Michael and her family proved to her daily that his words were not true. And though she still did not know if she truly deserved someone as perfect as Michael, she knew she deserved so much better than him.

She sighed, taking a step forward to close the space between them.

“I lived in absolute terror of you for years. My entire world was dictated by the look on your face. Three years ago, I would’ve believed every word you just said. In some lights, I’m still terrified of you,” she admitted, taking a deep breath. “Last night proved that. But since I left you, I built myself back up brick by brick. I met someone,” she smiled. “Who holds me up when I can’t, someone who rushed back here to protect me when he didn’t even know what I needed protecting from, someone whose very being and presence reminds me every minute of every day that I am something and I deserve so much more than the scraps you gave me. And in that light, you are far less terrifying.”

He let out a low chuckle, grabbing her arm and pulling her toward him. His grip was tight and painful but she still did not waver. “You keep forgetting what I’m fuckin’ capable of, Charlotte. Maybe I need to close the door and remind you?”

The prospect terrified her but she knew his hands were tied. It was just intimidation and she would not fall for it again.

“The thing is… I haven’t. You’ve shown me the worst you have to offer time and time again and I’ve survived every time. And it’s true. If you want to hurt me, there’s nothing I can do to stop you. I know I’m only alive because of God and luck. I can’t win in a fight with you. So take your best shot. But you know what else is true? I’ll still never choose you. No amount of fear or intimidation or pain will make me choose you. It’s him. For the rest of my life, it’ll always be him. And no matter what happens to me, you’ll have to live the rest of your miserable life knowing that.”

She used all of her force to rip her arm out of his grip, her skin stinging, as she grabbed the sweater that went with her costume and slid it on her arms as she spoke.

“You are right about one other thing though. I don’t deserve him. I don’t deserve this light or the love he gives me. And maybe,” she offered sadly, “Maybe one day, he’ll realize that too and leave me. And maybe I’ll never find anyone to love me like he does ever again. But even then, I’d spend the rest of my days alone before I spend another moment of it with you. So I hope all of this time and energy was worth it. Because I’m done… I’m done giving you a return on this investment. You can’t take this and you can’t take my joy, my body, my relationship, my peace, or anything else from me again. Your time controlling my life is over.” The lights around them started to flash, signaling that everyone needed to get in their places. She took a deep breath and offered him a smile. “That’s my cue. Enjoy the show. I’ve got a good feeling about it.”

She smiled before walking around him and walking out the door. She could feel his rage wafting off of him but that did not stop her. As soon as she rounded the corner, she leaned against the wall, her heart pounding. She let out a breath she had not even realized she was holding in, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She messaged her arm, another bruise she would have to explain away. But that one had been worth it. To say those things and finally say her piece… the only thing better would’ve been to punch him in the face but she refused to resort to violence as he did.

“Fuck, that was terrifying,” she mumbled to herself. “But you did it, you did it. Another win for today. Deep breaths,” she instructed herself, her entire body relaxing as she took several calming breaths. “Now let’s go get another one.”

She steadied herself for a few more minutes before getting in her spot just as the announcer came on to start the show.

***

She was in the middle of changing when Michael finally made his way backstage to her dressing room. Her after party dress was just passing her hips when she heard her door open.

She did not even give him a chance to speak, she barely held in the tears that immediately welled up in her eyes as she saw him. She just immediately rushed into his arms, her lips slamming into his. The breath of relief she let escape was muffled as she kissed him. She buried her face in the space between his shoulder and neck as he held her, forcing herself not to flinch as his arm rubbed against her side when he pulled her in for a tight hug. Her breath was shaky as she breathed him in, grateful to be in his arms again.

“I-It’s so good to see you,” she whispered. “I m-missed you so much.”

His hand cradled her head into his neck, surprised at her intense reaction. He was concerned when he arrived but the tremble in her voice and body, the way she sagged into him, only increased his concern tenfold. He could tell she was trying to hide whatever it was that was wrong, hold it back. But he could feel it, feel everything that simmered beneath the facade of a performer.

“You were amazing.” His other hand rubbed her back. “But what’s going on, love?” He leaned back to force her to lift her head and look at him. His thumb wiped one of the stray tears from her cheeks, kissing the path it trekked. He did not see a point in prolonging the question. He knew it was a special night but she needed help. What kind? He had no idea. But the version of her that stood in front of him was not her, at least, not a healthy version of her. “You’re not ok.”

Charlotte sniffled. She could not keep this in any longer. This was just not sustainable. That had been the problem the first time with Shaun, she had dealt with it utterly and completely alone. And here she was, falling back into that same pattern of isolation. No one in her corner, no one to support her or help her. And she could not survive that way. If she was going to stay here, she needed someone’s help. Even if all they did was help pick her up when he mentally knocked her down. And she had robbed Michael of the opportunity to do that, and she knew there would be anger for that. But more importantly, she had tied her one hand behind her back by doing so. She had robbed herself of safety and comfort and it showed in the hell-ish experience of the last two weeks. She had asked Michael to move with her because she needed him. Now, it was time to call that support in.

“No… I’m not. But now that you’re here, I will be.” She pressed her lips to his cheek. “I need to tell you something though… about-”

The last part of her sentence was drowned out by Chris sticking his head in her door. She had not realized that Michael left her dressing room door open and glanced up to find Chris, Malcolm, and a couple other company members standing outside her door.

“Everyone’s heading over to the lounge. You two ready?”

“Umm… actually I think we’re gonna head home?”

“Home??” His tone was so filled with offense, you would have thought Charlotte quit the show. “Absolutelyyyyyyy not! The star of the night can’t miss the after party. Trust me, the sex’ll be 10 times better after a few drinks.” Chris, inappropriately so, automatically assuming they just wanted to go home to fuck. “Come on!”

She sagged deeper into Michael and rolled her eyes. She glanced at him, a silent conversation passing between them. She knew they weren’t going to take no for an answer, everyone was on too much of a high from the night. Her eyes searched for his approval to which he gave her a small nod.

“Fineeeeee, we’ll come but just for a bit,” she acquiesced, Michael’s arm not leaving her waist.

“Alrighty. You better. I have at least two cocktails with your name on it!” The man disappeared, everyone starting to head over to the party.

“You sure you’re ok with going?”

He nodded. “Yea, tonight is still your night and you should enjoy it. As long as you’re up for it. We have plenty of time to talk.”

She squeezed his hand before following him out to their car. She had no interest in staying at the party too long. She found it hard to relax at first, her eyes constantly darting around the party to see if Shaun was there. But as she and Michael had those two drinks promised by Chris (and then some additional ones), she still did not see Shaun anywhere and loosened up.

Despite the looming difficult conversation she knew she would have to have with him when they got him, she still managed to have fun. The night moved faster than she expected as she and Michael danced with Malcolm and his wife. Unlike the stuffy cocktail event from the night before, this was a true party, an opportunity to let their hair down and celebrate.

Charlotte escaped the dance floor to grab another drink, leaving Michael chatting with some of the other actors and their partners.

A hand touched her arm unexpectedly, Charlotte flinching and a groan escaping her before she could stop herself. She clenched her fist in pain. However, when she turned and realized it was Michael, her heart sank.

Fuck.

“You’re hurt?” His hand gently grabbed her arm and lifted it up to examine under the dim lights of the bar. She braced herself, his eyes flashing with rage.

“Who did that to you?” he demanded as he took in the light but distinct bruise disrupting her otherwise flawless skin. He had never seen a bruise or mark on her before.

“U-Um… no one. I m-must’ve hit it or something,” she lied. She could not even stop herself, it was as thoughtless and second nature as breathing or walking and talking to lie about an injury. She also knew this was not the venue to tell him what really happened. She wanted to tell him everything in the privacy of their own home.

“You’re lying,” he said immediately, his anger only rising. “Nothing you could’ve done would cause that. Who. Did. That. To. You? Tell me right now, Charlotte.” His voice was low but she heard it. There was no room to lie or hide the truth from him now. He would not accept it.

“I p-promise I w-will tell you. B-but can y-you just wait till we get home? I d-don’t want to talk about it here. Please,” she begged.

He studied her, his hand going to her neck to hold her gaze to him. “But you’re ok right now? Whoever did it isn’t here?” he glanced around as if he could spot the person in the moment.

“N-No, no. I promise. They aren’t here. It’s just a l-long story a-and I'd rather tell you at home. T-that’s all, I promise.”

He kissed her temple, nodding. “Ok, ok. I’ll call the car.”

“Thank you. I j-just need to run to the bathroom. 5 minutes?” She could tell he did not want to let her out of his sight but she offered him a reassuring nod. “I promise I’m ok. Just five minutes. I’ll be right back.”

He nodded and kissed her on the cheek, watching as she left.

Charlotte had to take a couple turns to find the bathroom, finding it empty when she entered. She tossed her clutch and phone on the couch before going into one of the stalls. She took a few deep breaths, already strategizing how she would explain the last two days to Michael. She was almost thankful the tower was crumbling, it was too hard to hold up anyway. But she wasn’t ready for the fall out, not fully anyway. But she knew once she told him, the weight would be off her shoulders and she could breathe easy for a moment. And she welcomed that. She knew honesty after secrets and lies came with a storm but there was always calm after, eventually.

As she finished up and readjusted her clothing, she heard the door open. However, she did not think much about it until she stepped out to find Shaun standing in the bathroom.

“W-what are you d-doing in here?” She asked, taking in his staggering posture and eyes. They were red, glazed over with rage. She was not even sure when he arrived at the party. She had not seen him once since she left him in her dressing room.

“You know I tried. I fuckin’ tried so hard to be reasonable…” he remarked as he reached back to the bathroom door and locked it behind him.

Charlotte let out a shaky breath, all of that confidence from earlier vanished in an instant. No escape and no upper hand this time and she knew, when push came to shove, he would always overpower her. She wondered if anyone would even be able to hear her scream over the loud music. She knew Michael would come looking for her in a few minutes if she did not return or some woman would likely try to come use the bathroom. However, she also knew Shaun did not need long.

“But then… you parade that nigga around in my fuckin’ face?!” He slammed his hand against one of the stall doors, the force causing it to bang against the wall loudly. Charlotte nearly jumped half way out of her skin, taking another step back from him. “‘It’ll always be him,’ he mimicked her speech from earlier. “It’s me… Or it’s no one, Charlie.” His steps were measured and menacing, despite the alcohol that clearly seeped out of every pore of his being, a predator who had finally cornered its prey and was tired of the games. There was nowhere to run or go as Charlotte found herself cornered by the wall. “You choose.”

Charlotte knew what she should say, lie to get herself out of the situation alive. And if he had asked something else of her, perhaps she would have said anything to appease him. However, she could not force herself to do it, not this time and not about this. She knew in her heart and soul that Michael was it for her. And she would never deny that, no matter the consequences.

Her heart pounded out of her chest but she forced the words out, “I-It’s… it’s still him, Shaun. M-My h-heart is his, my soul is his. A-and I c-can’t give you what you want. Not anymore. If it’s not him, t-then it’s n-no one.”

He let out a few deep breaths of shock and staggered back from her for a moment as if she had slapped him. She imagined he did not expect her to answer truthfully but she could not deny Michael. She would never.

Charlotte started to peel herself off the wall, hoping this was her moment to leave and escape. However, she only made it a step before she felt a sharp sting across her cheek, the force of his slap sending her body crashing into the sink in the bathroom. She grunted as her stomach hit the hard edge of the counter and knocked the wind out of her. She used one hand to brace herself to stop from falling to the ground. The other immediately touched her cheek, pulling her hand back to find blood where his ring had cut into her skin.

“S-Shaun, p-please d-don’t… do this…”

He scoffed and shrugged, his face resigned as if she had given him no choice. “I told you. Me or no one.” He slapped her again, harder, her body falling to the ground as her head hit the cold tiles of the floor. Her vision immediately grew blurry as he appeared over her. Her arms and legs flailed violently as she tried to fight back.

She could feel every blow, his fists aiming for any part of her body he could reach. Her face, her chest, her stomach. All she could do was scream for help as she futilely tried to fight him off of her.

His hands wrapped around her neck, squeezing. Charlotte’s eyes grew wide as she realized his intentions, her fingers clawing at his skin with all her might to force him to break his grip. However, it was no use. He had strangled her before, which was scary but she always knew he would stop. This, however, was totally different. This time she knew he had no intention of stopping until he felt the life drain from her body. She could see it in his eyes, it was over for her.

The edges of her vision started to blur. The last thing she remembered was the feeling of his weight and hands being ripped off her before everything went black and her last thread to the conscious world snapped.

***

Michael took a last sip of his drink as Charlotte walked away from him to the bathroom. Michael sighed as he did a scan of the party, his eyes following on a man in a disheveled suit who appeared at the entrance. Michael stared at him for a moment, something about him gave him pause but he could not place why. He watched as the man did a scan of the room before heading to the hallway that led to the bathrooms. He figured he was merely on edge as the sight of Charlotte’s arm came back into his mind. His hands clenched into a fist.

Another puzzle piece, another thing that did not make sense. Someone had clearly hurt her but he did not understand how or when or who would do that. He had only been gone for two days. Shaun did pop up in his head but he dismissed that quickly. When would the man even have shown up without Michael knowing? Michael was pretty much with her anytime she was not at the theater since they moved.

He continued to people watch for a few minutes, his eyes glancing in the direction of the bathroom every few seconds as he waited. His phone dinged with a message from Rob letting him know he was waiting downstairs. Michael glanced at his watch, realizing more than five minutes had passed since Charlotte went to the bathroom. He searched the crowd for her. He happened to run into Malcolm and his wife during his search.

“Aye,” Michael grabbed their attention. “Have you seen Charlotte?”

“Nope, not since she went to get a drink. Why?”

“Y-Yea. She said she was going to the bathroom but it’s been a minute. And she didn’t answer her phone. Figured she maybe passed by me or thought I was gonna meet her outside or something.”

“I was about to head to the bathroom before we headed out too. I’ll walk with you. I’m sure she’s fine.”

Malcolm and Michael walked the maze of hallways to the bathrooms, Michael stopping as they turned the last corner and another sound filled his ears, battling against the thundering bass of the music from the party.

“You hear that?”

“Yea. Sounds like someone screaming?”

Michael rushed up to the ladies’ bathroom door, getting close enough to hear the screams behind it. He only needed to hear one to recognize the voice. Charlotte. It was as if someone had replaced the blood in his veins with ice water. That sound would haunt him for the rest of his days, he was sure of it.

He immediately went to open the door, finding it locked. However, he did not give that a second thought as he told Malcolm to call the police and ram his entire body into the door. It took two tries before it yielded to his force and weight.

Michael did not need an introduction or explanation as he took in the scene in front of him. He had never seen a picture of Shaun in his life but instinctively, he knew who he was. Charlotte’s brief descriptions of him, her actions for the last two weeks, her nightmares, her injury, all those puzzle pieces seemed to fit instantly and paint quite a clear picture.

Michael immediately grabbed the man by his collar, dragging him off his girlfriend. He got a quick glimpse of Charlotte’s bloodied and bruised form, her eyes half closed, as he pulled the man away from her. He threw him down to the floor and kicked him in the chest, a satisfying crack filling the quiet bathroom. And he did not stop at one.

Shaun barely had time to think or defend himself as Michael channeled a year’s worth of boxing training into beating the life out of him. This man who had terrorized the love of his life for years, this man who had been the source of so much strife and pain in her life, this man who had been the reason for the rage filling Michael’s body. All he saw was Charlotte’s broken body and he lost all sense of himself.

He was thankful the loud music of the party drowned out Shaun’s screams. Every punch he rained down on him felt cathartic. Every scream and yell felt like music to his ears. Though he typically believed violence could be avoided, in this case, his soul needed this more than anything. This was the only answer. Michael had never felt the desire to feel someone’s life leave their body but he felt it in that moment, strongly, fervently. And he knew, if it came to that, he would not feel an ounce of guilt about it. This man did not deserve to be among the living, not with all he had done.

He thought about every time Charlotte screamed or whimpered in her sleep; every time her big brown eyes filled with terror and panic as something triggered her; every time she thought of herself as broken, unworthy, and unlovable - these things that were the farthest from the truth but he made her believe; every scar littering her perfect form that she looked at with disgust. He thought about it all and every time his fist connected with Shaun’s skin, he felt a bit of that rage he had bottled up since he learned about Shaun release. It felt good to finally do something with it. No longer did he have to punch the punching bag in his gym pretending it was this man’s face. The object of his rage was right there and he did his worst.

Michael only stopped when a force pulled his arm back, his savage beating cut short by Malcolm.

“It’s over, it’s over.” He whispered, holding Michael’s raised arm back. “I think Shaun understands your point. The police are coming. Charlotte needs an ambulance, now.”

Michael stopped, his hand still holding Shaun up by his collar, and glanced at Charlotte who was unconscious and propped up against the bathroom wall. He almost wanted to throw up at the blood that smudged the floor by her body.

“She’s alive,” Malcolm assured him as he took in the look on Michael’s face, Michael knew it must have looked lethal. “She hit her head but she’s alright. But she needs you right now and you can’t be there if you get arrested for killing him.”

He nodded and pulled his arm out of Malcolm’s grip. He stood and pulled the man to his feet. He was not even recognizable now, covered in blood. Michael could tell his nose was broken, a few teeth had been knocked out, and he was not even sure if the man could still see with both of eyes nearly swollen shut. And despite this damage and the pleasure he felt administering it, it still - somehow - did not feel like enough. The man was still conscious and still breathing and that did not feel fair.

“I’m only gonna tell you this fuckin’ once.” Michael’s voice was low and lethal, he did not even know his voice could sound so terrifying. He did not know who this person was, this dangerous version of him he’d never needed to pull out before. “Stay. The Fuck. Away. From. Her. If I ever see you again or you ever lay a finger on her again, I swear on everything I love, I will fuckin’ kill you. I’ll make what just happened look like a scratch. And I’ll end your pathetic life. We clear?” At his silence, Michael scoffed before throwing two back to back jabs into Shaun’s ribs, the sound of more bones cracking filling the air along with a pathetic, girlish scream. “I said, are we fuckin’ clear??”

“W-we’re c…c-clear,” Shaun forced out, the words barely audible as Michael’s arm pinned him to the wall by his neck, crushing his windpipe, was the only thing keeping him from doubling over in pain.

“Good.”

Michael removed his arm, the man unceremoniously crumpling to the ground with a groan. He could not help it but he kicked the man once last time for good measure as he shook out his hand and flexed his fingers. His knuckles were caked with blood and ached but it did not matter as he rushed over to Charlotte.

He pulled her body into his arms, propping her up against his legs. His breaths were shallow and rushed as he pressed his fingers against her neck. He knew Malcolm said she was alive but it was as if he needed to prove it to himself, assure himself. He let out a strangled sigh at the pulse he felt pumping against his fingers, strong and distinct.

She’s ok, she’s ok. Just knocked out.

“I’m here, baby. I’m here. I gotchu. You’re safe, you’re safe.” he whispered as two EMTs rushed into the bathroom. Michael did not notice the small crowd that followed them, Malcolm going over to Chris who was standing at the front, his face the picture of shock and confusion.

Michael felt as if he was just going through the motions as he rode with Charlotte in the ambulance. He merely just repeated that same refrain over and over again, holding her hand as the EMTs worked around him. They assured him none of her injuries were life threatening or severe. She took a beating but she’d be fine once they treated the head injury.

They forced him to wait in the waiting room while they rushed her to the hospital, Michael calling all of her family and his to tell them what was going on. He knew this would likely make it onto the news somewhere and did not want anyone to find out about it. Her father, who lived in Baltimore, and oldest brother, who lived in DC, promised to drive up first thing in the morning, Lauren, Jackson, and Jazz were planning to be on the first flight out of LA, and her eldest sister would be on a flight from Atlanta.

He cycled through pacing and texting her family until a nurse came to get him. He was thankful, the two hours he waited seemed to move by in slow motion.

Michael absentmindedly scratched the nape of his neck as he rushed behind the polite nurse, his ears barely registering her preppy and annoying voice. Her words were nonsensical until he saw Charlotte. He barely registered them once he realized she had little information to offer him. He knew nothing she could have said would satisfy him anyway until he saw her for himself, saw the warmth in her skin, felt the blood pumping through her veins, saw her injuries without blood caked in them, making them look far worse to his eye. He had not seen her in hours and he did not want second hand accounts that she was ok, he wanted to see her for himself.

The cycle of torture he had been on for the last few hours finally ended in front of her closed door. He took a deep breath and sent up a silent prayer before walking into the room to find Charlotte, his sweet honey bee alive and conscious. He studied the steady rise and fall of her chest, the way her hand fidgeted with the fraying edge of her blanket. He let out a strangled breath he did not realize he was holding in. He felt as if he was breathing for the first time in hours, a weight lifted off of his heart and body. The room was completely silent aside from the beeping of machines surrounding her, her eyes trained on the glittering lights of the skyline out of her window.

He examined the injuries he could see: the bandage on her forehead, the bruises already blooming on her face and neck. He imagined more had to litter the rest of her body, the areas hidden beneath blankets and a hospital gown.

“H-Honeybee…” his voice came out as a strangled whisper, his pain and fear flowing from his words like blood from an open wound. Her eyes clenched shut as she heard his voice, and heard the emotions laced throughout it.

At her silence, his hand wrapped around hers as he sat in the chair by her bed. He did not bother stopping the tears that slowly trekked down his face as he gently stroked her forehead.

“Baby…”

“I-I’m ok… r-really, Bakari,” she croaked out, her voice sounding small and broken. She avoided his eyes but he could see the clouds of guilt, shame, and embarrassment that filled hers. He knew she likely hated that he saw her like this. But it did not matter to him. He was just happy she was alright. “I-I’m o-ok.”

“No, you aren’t. Els... baby. Look at me, please," he whispered, noting the small shake of her head as she bit her lip. He could hear her silent pleas to not push. However, he needed to see her, truly see her.

“Charlotte.” His rare use of her full name did the trick, the young woman turning her head toward him.

Her eyes still did not fully meet his, but he decided it was a start. His thumb stroked her cheek, her eyes fluttering closed at the soothing gesture. Her head lulled to the side and rested in his palm. He did not say a word, he just offered her what he could tell she needed. His presence and his gentle touch that always soothed the troubled waters of her soul. However, so much of her face was bruised that it did not take long for him to graze a tender spot and cause her to wince.

“I-I a-a-m so-so sorr-sorry…” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I f-…” she started to hyperventilate, her hand going to her chest as she felt the shooting pain of her sharp breaths radiating against her fractured ribs. “I-I t-tried to fight… I-I s-should’ve t-told…”

Her words became incoherent as she tried to talk through a panic attack. Michael immediately moved to the edge of the bed, hoping he could calm her down.

“Hey… hey, shhh… baby, take a deep breath for me. It’s ok, Els. You ain’t got nothing to apologize for, I promise.”

His voice was low and soothing as he tried to get her to calm down. He took a few deep breaths, encouraging her to mimic the action to slow her own breathing. “There we go… That’s good, baby. Relax, it’s ok. You’re with me and you’re safe now.”

He watched her eyes fall down to his hands, which a nurse cleaned up and bandaged for him. She sniffed.

“You saved me?” She asked quietly.

“Yea… I c-came for you.”

She wiped the tears from her eyes, refusing to let them fall. She winced slightly as she hit a bruised area. “You always do. Thank you.”

“Always,” he whispered, his hand wiping his own tears that started to fall. He knew he could be vulnerable but part of him battled to be stronger, despite how upset and scared he was. Right now she needed to be the vulnerable one, which meant he had to be the rock.

“I-I s-suppose y-you wanna know w-what happened?” she asked quietly, knowing he likely still did not know how they ended up in this situation in the first place.

“Yea but… that conversation can wait till we get home. All that matters right now is that you’re ok.”

She did not argue with him on that point. Charlotte’s head pounded as she laid in the bed, Michael sitting quietly next to her. Neither of them said much, she just closed her eyes and focused on his touch, his hands, strong and comforting against her skin. But cautious, she could feel that caution with every caress and stroke. She thought she had lost this forever, that she would never feel the heat of his loving touch on her skin again.

A knock at the door tore their moment of solitude away from them, both of their eyes moving to find two men in dark suits standing in the doorway. They flashed their badges identifying themselves as NYPD. The back of Charlotte’s hand hastily whisked away her tears before forcing herself up into a seated position. She forced a smile on her face but she knew with the cuts and bruises, it likely did not look like one.

“Good evening. We are sorry to interrupt. I am Detective Simpson and this is Detective Zidan. Ms. Bennett, we are so sorry for the ordeal you have suffered tonight. The doctors told us you were conscious. Would you be up for talking about what happened?”

She nodded, gesturing for the two men to come farther in. “Y-You can just call me Charlotte. And yea… Um… we were at the Purple Cat lounge, c-celebrating the opening night of our broadway s-show.”

“The Lighthouse?” Detective Simpson interjected. “My wife’s a big Broadway fan… we saw it last week in previews,” he clarified. “You were phenomenal.”

“T-thank you,” she whispered. However, even that compliment could not lift her spirits right now. “Umm, we had a few drinks… two or three I guess? But I w-was tired a-and M-Michael realized I was injured so w-we decided to go home. I went to the bathroom a-and when I came out of the stall, Shaun was there. H-he locked the bathroom door and knocked me down… hit me. A-and then he started choking me.”

“Did he try anything else?” His words were vague but Charlotte and Michael understood the implication. She felt Michael stiffen beside her.

“No, no. He didn’t do anything like that.”

“And what is your relationship with Shaun Parker, the assailant?”

“We dated for about three years a few years ago? He was abusive. I-I had a restraining order against him when I lived here back then. F-filed a police report a couple times then dropped them.”

“That’s great, very helpful thank you. That’ll establish a history of violence, pattern of behavior. How’d he know about the show? Have you had contact with him since you broke up? Any idea how he might’ve gotten access to the event you all were at?”

Charlotte clenched her eyes shut. And here goes that wrecking ball, she thought to herself. She prepared her mind and heart for the inferno of rage Michael was about to experience, this time directed at her.

“H-He showed up at o-our last rehearsal b-before previews two weeks ago. H-he’s a-and investment banker or manager and w-was working with one of the producers.”

Michael’s head whipped around in her direction, shocked that her answer was not a simple no.

“What the fuck?? He’s been around for two weeks??” He approached the bed, his brow furrowed and his heart rate increasing as his frustration skyrocketed. He was seething.

Charlotte’s hands twisted in her lap as she felt his anger waft toward her.

“I… I-It was fine at first, he didn’t really say anything o-or bother me. But l-last night, one of the investors hosted a cocktail event for us a-and he approached me… and punched me,” her voice got really small as she said that part, Michael stepping away as his rage grew to unprecedented levels. “A-and then today b-before the show, he c-came by my d-dressing room to taunt me. A-and grabbed my arm, l-left a bruise. I t-told him that I’d n-never be with him a-again.”

Michael ran his hand over his face. “Why didn’t you tell me??”

“I didn’t want you to worry!”

He threw his hands up in the air, his exasperation obvious to everyone in the room. “I don’t believe this shit,” he muttered under his breath before turning back to her. “You’re in a fuckin hospital bed, Charlotte. There was clearly a reason to worry! A-and you let me go all the way to fuckin’ LA where I couldn’t do shit to help you??”

“Michael, I-I’m s-sorry, I j-”

“Charlotte, Mr. Jordan, please,” the detective interjected. “Let’s all just calm down for a second. We don’t want to take up too much of either of your time. We know this is difficult to hear and a lot to process. Mr. Jordan, can you tell us what happened when you arrived in the bathroom?”

Michael turned away from Charlotte. His mind was on information overload, his anger pulled him in 30 different directions. But he knew the detectives were right, now was not the time. And putting this man behind bars was more important than his anger.

“It had been a few minutes and she didn’t come back, I went to the bathroom and heard her screaming. I forced the door open a-and saw him choking her. I-I pulled him off a-” Michael stopped speaking, the anger of that moment flooding back.

“Yea we saw Mr. Parker’s injuries. We can piece together the rest. Well, that’s all we need for now. Your accounts align with Malcolm Roberts’, the witness, and the scene so we are good for the evening. We’ll leave you two to get some rest.” He fished his business card out of his wallet and handed it to Michael. “If you think of anything else once you’ve gotten some rest, give us a call.”

Michael stopped the men. “And what about me?” While Michael did what he did to protect Charlotte, and did not regret it, he knew his beating of Shaun would be considered overkill by anyone with eyes.

The detective shrugged. “From my assessment of Mr. Parker’s injuries, you used necessary force to subdue him. And that’s what I plan to write in our report.”

At the raised eyebrow Michael gave him, the other detective merely winked at him. “I’m a husband… If I’d walked in on what you did… let’s just say he’s lucky he got off the floor at all. Even if he wants to press charges, given the circumstances and well, your status, the DA will likely decline to move forward and we would back that up. We aren’t here to ream you up, Mr. Jordan. You will have to pay for the damages to the door at the club but that’s it.”

Michael felt relief wash over him.

“We’ll be in touch,” the detective said before turning to leave. However, he turned back and said, “Loved you both in Creed. Take care of yourselves.”

Michael pocketed the man’s card and watched as they left before turning his attention back to Charlotte.

They sat in silence for a while, Michael’s hand rubbing her arm to comfort her. She could still feel it, his anger, but he controlled it, kept it to himself. They were both two powder kegs ready to explode. Both of them were using materials as flimsy as scotch tape to hold back the avalanche of emotions that threatened to consume them.

It took a few more hours of poking and prodding before the doctors told her she could go home. She was thankful, just wanting to sleep in her own bed in Michael’s… if he was not too angry at her to deny her that.

She pushed herself out of bed, Michael handing her the clothes Malcolm had picked up and brought over for them. She started to lift the nightgown over her head but groaned lightly at the stretch needed to do so. She let it fall back down over her legs.

“Let me help.”

She bit her lip, fiddling with the gown for a moment as her eyes bounced between him and her body, before shaking her head. “Umm no, no… I got it.”

“Why won’t you let me help you?”

“Because I don’t need it. I got it.”

He scoffed and raised an eyebrow at her. “You really think now is the best time to lie to me again, Charlotte?”

She covered her eyes with her hand for a moment before sighing. “I j-just don’t want you to see t-the bruises… I k-know you’re mad at me. I-I don’t want to m-make it worse. A-and I don’t want them to change h-how you see me… feel about me.”

Michael’s feet came into her line of vision before he lifted her head and kissed her forehead.

"Look at me," he quietly demanded. He rarely demanded but she heard it in his voice, it was not a request she could refuse. His hands held her face, holding her gaze to his once she looked up at him. “There is nothing in this world that’ll ever stop me from wanting you, aight? These bruises are just a reminder that you survived and that’s all that matters to me. And it doesn’t matter how mad I am, I’ll never deny you what you need. And right now, you need help. So let me help you.”

It took another moment or two of coaxing but ultimately, she relented. He kissed her cheek before his hands pulled her gown over her head, the young woman wincing at the stretch in her side. Michael’s eyes trailed up her body, happy to see most of it looked fine. Her upper half though, her chest, her stomach, her neck and her face were covered in bruises that made his hand clench into a fist.

His eyes focused on the bigger one on her side, one that clearly had been there longer than the others.

“That’s where he…” he could not even say the words. At her small nod, he took a step back from her and turned away from her. His breaths were shallow and pained.

“It’s not as bad as it looks… I’ve had worse.”

He shook his head, the scotch tape simply could not hold his rage back any longer. “I can’t believe you kept this from me.”

“M-Michael… I’m s-sorry. I didn’t want to upset you.”

“I’m upset because this,” he gestured at her bruise, “is upsetting. This nigga was terrorizing you, Els. And hurting you while you let me fly across the county to sit in bullshit ass meetings when you knew you needed me here.”

“I thought I had it handled!”

“Oh so what? You’re fuckin’ Olivia Pope or some shit?”

“Not funny, Michael.”

“I aint fuckin’ laughin’ Charlotte. If this was handled, I would not be looking at your body covered in bruises and we wouldn’t be in a hospital. He could’ve killed you. If I hadn’t gotten there when I did, he would have killed you. I mean… what were you thinking??”

“I-I s-should’ve told you,” she admitted. She knew there was no excuse for lying as she had and she would not waste his time trying to come up with one. “I-I just didn’t t-think you’d understand.”

He shook his head, a strangled sigh of frustration escaping him. “Well you’re right. I don’t understand why my girlfriend, the love of my life, the woman I want to marry and build a life with, lied to me and hid something so dangerous and life threatening for weeks. You let me move all the way here to protect you, and when you needed it most, you didn’t trust me to do it. I don’t understand why you didn’t trust me.”

All she heard in his voice was his pain. Beneath his righteous anger, she understood where it stemmed from, a well of hurt and disappointment that she did not trust him with this problem.

“M-Michael,” she approached him. “I t-trust y-you with my life. I-it wasn’t a question or lack o-of trust. I w-wanted to tell you so b-bad. T-that night when you helped t-through that nightmare, when you called me the other night from LA…in my dressing room earlier. I wanted to tell you.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

She sighed, she turned back to the bed and sat down. Her physical body was barely standing, barely holding on.

“I dunno… I t-thought I needed to d-do it alone. It’s a-always been me d-dealing with him… I g-guess it’s just a-all I know. A-and I-I was t-tired of losing… tired o-of him t-taking everything… tired of r-running,” she admitted. “A-and I was afraid, afraid you a-and my family w-wouldn’t understand why I would w-want to stay once I knew he w-was around. A-and I was afraid you’d try to stop me. A-and worst of all, I w-was afraid if you gave me an out, I’d be a coward and take it a-and then he w-would’ve taken something else from me. So I l-lied. I lied and kept it from you b-because I knew it would force me to handle it on m-my own a-and it almost killed me. Literally a-and figuratively. B-Because I did… need you.” She let out a small sob. “I needed you so bad. J-just to be there. A-and I deprived myself o-of that and I deprived you of the chance to help me a-and I am s-so so sorry.”

Michael unfolded his arms as he listened to her. He could hear it, her regret and the sincerity of her apology. He was still angry but the roaring rapids of anger were now more like a quiet stream. Far easier to manage and put in perspective. He understood that her scars with Shaun went deeper than he could possibly understand. It was not shocking that she had defaulted to these choices. Michael sat next to her on the bed, his hand resting on her thigh.

“I know, I know. But listen to me, Charlotte.” She lifted her eyes to look at him, surprised to find the anger gone and nothing but grace and compassion remaining. “You never have to deal with anything alone again. I’m here and whether I agree with your decisions or not, I’ll always support you and help you. I promise you that. But you gotta come to me from now on, Charlotte. This? The lying, the secrets, putting your life in danger. You can never do this again. When I saw you, I thought you were…” he stopped himself and let out a shaky breath. “You can’t scare me like this ever again. Do you understand me?”

“Never. I promise. I’m so so sorry, baby.”

He nodded. “I know you are. It’s ok. Let’s get you home and in bed, aight?” Michael still felt guilty, ashamed that he was across the country instead of protecting her. He had known something was off and still left and that would haunt him for a while. But holding her choice against her because he felt ashamed would not help either of them. He trusted that she understood him and would come to him if she ever needed help again and that would have to be enough.

***

“How are you feeling?” Charlotte’s dad asked as they settled around the living room.

Charlotte was tucked into Michael’s side as she talked with her family. She had not really left his side since they left the hospital that morning. And he kept his hands somewhere on her the entire time. She knew they were both clinging to each other, unsurprising given what all had transpired.

She was not surprised but still slightly put out to find her entire family waiting in their apartment when they finally got home. She had not slept well in weeks and had not gotten more than an hour or two in the last 48 hours. She just wanted to curl up into Michael’s chest and sleep for days. Instead, she was on hour four of her family fawning over her. It was sweet and she understood why but she had never been less excited to see them in her life. Emotionally, she was barely holding it together and she was ready to fall but instead she was forced to hold on a bit longer, remaining upbeat so her family knew she was alright.

“I’m in some pain b-but none of it is super bad. Doc said I c-could be back on stage in a week as long as this heals alright,” she answered, pointing to the bandage on her head. Her voice signaled her hopefulness that that would be the case.

“That fast?” Tiffany, her eldest sister, asked from the kitchen.

Charlotte nodded. “Yea, I was kind of surprised too. But Chris canceled a couple shows, just till Tuesday so I won’t even miss a full week. The optics of his lead almost dying at the after party weren’t the best,” she admitted. She glanced up at Michael. “Can you make sure we send him some flowers and a bottle of wine? There’s a Merlot he loves that I can try to find. As an apology. I know that’s not how he saw his opening night going either.”

“Whatever you want, babe.”

Charlotte smiled, trying to keep the mood positive as everyone’s faces still looked grim every time they looked at her. “Well in a sort of silver lining from last night, the show went really well? Reviews came out a-and Michael read them on the way home. They are so amazing. I can’t wait for y’all to come back so you can see it.”

“Oh that’s great!” Allen offered.

“As if there was even a doubt about -” CJ started to say before Jackson cut him off.

“Are you fuckin’ serious right now?” Jackson blurted out, his anger getting the better of him. Charlotte could tell he was more upset than the rest of her family as he had been virtually silent since they arrived. But she knew why. “Are we really gonna talk about that damn musical like she didn’t fuckin’ almost die to be in it?”

“Baby…” Lauren chastised him. She offered Charlotte and Michael an apologetic glance that told them she tried to head off this outburst before they arrived. “We said we were gonna talk about this later.”

“Nah, fuck that!” Jackson stood up and all the anger in him seemed to explode. “What the hell is wrong with you?? How could you be so reckless? So fuckin’ stupid to let him do this shit to you again?? What the fuck, Charlie?”

Charlotte knew her brother did not mean his words, knew he was just angry. However, in such a fragile state, she could not help the way her body folded into Michael’s at Jackson’s tone and his words. She knew she deserved it. She had kept secrets and lied to her family as much as she did Michael. She knew what she put them through was wrong.

Michael immediately stood up in front of her, using his body as a protective shield from her brother’s harsh tone. He understood Jackson’s anger, he really did. But he had made peace with Charlotte’s choices and accepted her apology. And hours removed from the shock of everything, he regretted piling onto her pain in the hospital by blowing up at her. It was the wrong time to have that conversation. And so was this. He refused to allow anyone else to do it either. She had been knocked down enough in the last 24 hours, the last thing she needed was to get it from the people she loved too.

“Aight brah. Cool it. She knows she messed up but regardless, what happened last night wasn’t her fault. You need to take a breath and calm down.”

“Like hell it isn’t. She knew what he was capable of! And no disrespect but I’m tryin’ to have a conversation with my sister. In case you forgot, I’m the one that pieced her back together after that nigga fucked her up the first time. Meanwhile, she wouldn’t even look like that if you had been here protecting her instead of out in fuckin’ LA.”

“Aww shit,” Jazz muttered as Michael took a menacing step toward Jackson, his words clearly striking a sore spot.

There was barely any space for God between the two men as they stood off, Michael ready to throw hands with anyone who stepped at Charlotte the wrong way, present company included. The other men in the room rose from their seats as well, the tension between the two men palpable.

“I don’t give a fuck what you’re tryna do. I’m the one takin’ care of her now. And I’m tellin’ you to back the fuck up and calm the fuck down. Take another step toward her or raise your voice at her in my house again and I won’t be tellin’ you shit.”

“Alright, enough, enough.” Charlotte called out. She grunted in pain as she pushed herself up from the couch and made her way through the sea of testosterone to her brother and boyfriend. “Let’s all just calm down and sit down. N-No one, least of all me, has the energy to hear either of you argue about who’s more protective.” She placed a gentle hand on Michael’s chest to nonverbally let him know she was fine. He took a step back, raising his hands in surrender. However, when Charlotte stepped in front of him, his hand still went to rest on her hip as if he would need to move her behind him again. He was on edge, everyone understood it.

She turned and faced her brother. “You’re right. What I did was reckless and it was dumb. But I know you, Jackson. Look me in my eyes and tell me if you knew what was going on, you wouldn’t have flown here and made it your mission to drag me back to LA with you?”

Jackson scoffed. “Of course I fuckin’ would’ve. Because I’m the one that nursed you back to health when you left him, the one who woke up to you screaming night after night for months. Every good day, every bad day, every horrible day. I was there. I saw what he did to you, how he destroyed you. And I never wanted to see you go through that again. But I can’t believe I would’ve even had to convince you. The fact that you weren’t on the first flight home after you saw him is fuckin’ insane, Charlie. It makes me question your judgment entirely.”

“I know I wouldn’t be standing here without you, Jackson. Y-You and Lauren saved my life. A-and I am sorry for the lying and the secrets. Truly. I-If I could go back and do it differently, I w-would have told all of you. But even though I regret that, I still would’ve stayed here and done this show even if I knew this would be the outcome.” At her family’s shocked expression, she sighed. “Question my judgement, call me stupid, I don’t care. You helped me heal but I put myself back together piece by piece and I didn’t do that to live in fear of him for the rest of my life. I did it so I could live the life I want. So I could build the life I want, so I could be free. And I don’t regret staying here to fight for that life. I almost died and it was terrifying for me a-and I can only imagine how it felt for you all for the second time. And I’m truly sorry for that. But it was my choice. And I’m not gonna apologize for fighting for what I want, for what my soul needs. You don’t have to like that decision but you do have to respect it.”

“Jackson… she’s right,” her dad, Christian Sr, interjected. “Charlie has always been smart and driven. I wish there’d been another way but I understand. I’m just glad you’re ok, squirt.” Her dad wrapped her in a tight hug.

“Same, sis. But can this be the last time you almost die on us, please? It’s getting kinda old,” Tiffany joked under her breath, CJ hitting her on the arm.

Charlotte let out a belly laugh that made her ribs ache. “Y-Yea, I can do that. I’m down to 6 or 7 lives now anyway. I should preserve them. I’m sorry for scaring everyone. Seriously.” She glanced at her brother who had now gone silent. “Can you forgive me, J? Please?”

He pulled her into a hug, his lips pressed into the top of her head. “Don’t ever scare me like that again, Charlie,” he warned.

“I promise.”

“Ok, let’s all go check into our hotels and give Michael and Charlie some time alone. She needs rest. We can come back tomorrow,” Lauren remarked, shoo-ing everyone toward the door.

Charlotte mouthed thank you to her before wrapping her in a hug. If there was one person who was always a ride or die for her, it was Lauren. She never failed. Michael immediately led Charlotte into their room as soon as everyone filed out and started to help her get ready to finally rest.

“I-I think I want to shower first?”

“Whatever you want, baby. Need help?”

She shook her head. She had not been able to detach herself from Michael since they got home. But she realized after her family’s visit that she needed at least a moment of solitude, a few moments to process the last 48 hours alone. “No, I don’t think so. But I’ll leave the door open just in case.”

Michael settled into bed himself, grabbing his phone to check his email and text messages. It took him a while to make his way through all of them. He had ignored nearly every notification in his phone since he got back from LA. He clicked on one, a link to CNN from Steelo.

He wondered if he should even press play on the video but he decided to.

“And now, breaking news from Broadway. Last night, after the opening night performance of The Lighthouse, the musical’s star, Charlotte Bennett was attacked at the show’s afterparty at a nightclub in the Upper West Side. Bennett, a rising star most known for her role in the recent blockbuster hit Creed, recently returned to Broadway after a two year absence. The assailant, Shaun Parker of New York, was apprehended and is in police custody. NYPD held a press conference late this morning where they announced the state would be pursuing assault and attempted murder charges against the 30 year old investment banker. NYPD also shared that Bennett’s boyfriend, actor and star Michael B. Jordan, also from Creed, was also involved in the altercation, restraining Parker until police arrived.”

“NYPD found that there was a history of domestic violence between Parker and Bennett, Bennett having filed a restraining order and several police reports during their relationship. Lead detectives are still determining Parker’s motivation for attacking Bennett but evidence suggests it was in retaliation for rejecting his advances. Parker’s lawyers were not available for comment.”

“Guess that cat’s out of the bag,” he heard Charlotte mumble. Her body was wrapped in a towel, leaning against the door. He had been so wrapped up in the story that he had not even seen her exit the shower. He quickly closed the link and threw his phone down on the bed. She looked better to him, the light and life returning to her skin. She still looked dead on her feet but he knew only time in bed would fix that. He watched as she chewed on the side of her lip.

“I guess… I knew it’d make the news a-and people would find out. Now everyone’s gonna know how dumb I was, every stupid mistake I made.”

“Or… everyone’s gonna know you survived something awful and applaud you for it,” Michael offered as he grabbed clothes for her to change into and handed them to her.

She used his arms for balance as she stepped into a pair of his Calvin Klein briefs and he helped her pull the sweater over her body. She tried to control the grimaces and small expressions of pain but it proved difficult.

“Somehow I doubt that,” she whispered as he helped her get situated in bed. She let out a deep content sigh of relief at finally being able to relax. She looked at him for a moment and pulled on his arm to bring him close to her. “Thank you for taking care of me and for saving my life… a-and loving me.”

He shook his head. “You don’t ever have to thank me for any of that.” He pecked her on the lips.

However, as he leaned back, her hands cupped his face to stop him. Her thumb rubbed the stumble of his beard as she studied him. After a moment or two, she kissed him again and this time, they did not stop. Michael could feel it, all the pain she felt, her desperation and need as she clung to his body as if he would disappear if she let him go. However, when her hands naturally drifted to the waistband of his sweats to take it to the next level, he wrapped his hands around them to stop her. As much as his body responded to hers, he knew he could not allow this moment to go too far.

His hesitation had nothing to do with a lack of desire, his straining manhood was the proof of that. However, given how Shaun treated her during sex, Michael took great care in how he did. He vowed to ensure she never felt like she was merely a plaything or a warm body for his use. And while, after the day they had and almost losing her, he would love to bury himself inside her, he knew he could not do it even if she wanted it. Even if she chose to ignore it, Michael knew she was merely minutes away from falling apart and this would not help her hold it together.

However, the pained and disappointed look in her eyes almost made him question that resolve. And it broke his heart.

“W-what’s wrong?”

“You were almost murdered less than 24 hours ago. You’re injured and in pain. I can’t fuck you like that didn’t happen. I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“But I wasn’t. And I appreciate you being a gentleman but I’m fine, I promise.” She captured his lips again.

“I-It’s not about being a gentleman. It’s about knowing you and what you need and this ain’t it.”

“ I need you,” she whispered back, her forehead resting against his. “Bakari, please. Don’t make me beg you. Please.” She tried to stop her voice from breaking, she knew that would not help convince him she was ok enough to do this. But she could not describe how desperate she was to feel something other than her current pain.

And now, his refusal only made her feel worse. This was utterly foreign to her. There had never been a time where Michael denied her or pumped the brakes. She had not even considered this outcome, figuring he would be ready to go if she was. But she supposed she could not blame him. Her bruised body was far from attractive.

He’s angry and disgusted by you, a voice in her head rang out loudly.

His eyes clenched shut as he struggled to stay steadfast in his convictions. But the need in her voice tested every fiber of his being. That voice, so vulnerable, so clearly desperate for him, made him want to relent. But he couldn’t.

“The last 48 hours have been hell. I see it in your eyes, you’re barely… you’re barely holding it together, love. You need rest and maybe you need me but I don’t think sex is what either of us need right now. And… whether you realize it or not, I imagine the things he did to you, however long ago, are gonna come back up. I don’t want to trigger any…” his words failed as she tore herself from his arms and turned on her side to face away from him in frustration.

“I-I k-knew this would happen,” she whispered to herself. “The bruises… s-seeing what he did. I d-disgust you.”

“That’s not it! Look at me. You have never and will never disgust me. I don’t even want to hear you say that shit. I always want you. But your physical and mental health is more important to me than anything else and that means we can’t do this.”

“I just want…” she whispered, unable to put her desires into words. It was not even a physical desire she craved. She just wanted to keep moving. She just knew if she laid here and sat in the stillness with him, the dam would break and she would fall apart. And she just was not ready to feel the extent of all of this yet. And she hated that Michael knew that, picked up on that so quickly. “I’m fine, Bakari.”

“I think you just want to feel something else… I think if we do this, it’ll make you feel like you’re fine when you aren’t. I know it’s hard for you to be vulnerable. But you got me, I’m here and you can fall apart, scream, cry… whatever. You can be not fine. You got me and I’m not going anywhere.”

Her eyes went to the ceiling to stop the tears from falling. “I am fine, Bakari.” She let out a groan of frustration at his silence, knowing he did not believe her. She could not tell who she was trying to convince more. Him or herself. “I’m fine.”

His hand wiped a tear that fell from her eyes as she stammered. “I promise you… I’m fine. I’m… fine,” she whispered, her voice cracking under the weight of it all, the simple words being much more difficult to say. “I’m… f-” the words died in her throat as she started to sob.

“Come here.” He enveloped her in his arms as she broke down into tears, her sobs filling their bedroom. “You’re gonna be ok, Els. I promise. I gotchu and you’re safe. I promise.”

He moved onto the bed to better cradle her into his side, her face buried in his chest. They stayed like that all night, until she cried herself asleep, finally releasing weeks of pent up pain and fear. Michael watched her for most of the night, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest next to him. Every so often, she woke up whimpering softly, nightmares plaguing her sleep. And he would just hold her again and whisper the same refrain in her ears until she calmed down again. She was safe and he'd never let her feel this pain again. And he would make it his life’s mission to ensure he kept that promise.

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A/N: First, if you made it through this long sad chapter, THANK YOU! I hope the savage beating of that nigga was worth it LOL If you are wondering what I envisioned, if you watched Game of Thrones, think about when Jon beat the hell outta Ramsey after Battle of the Bastards lol that sort of visceral rage and Ramsey looked better than Shaun in my mind haha… I promise y'all, our story is on an upswing from here on out lol 90% fluff from now on, I promise!

Drop a comment and let me know what you think/let me know if you want to be tagged! How do you think Bakari and Els are gonna recover from all this?

#black writers #michael b jordan #michael b jordan x oc #mbjordanedit #michael b jordan x reader #creed 3 #black panther #adonis creed #michael b jordan fanfic #creed iii

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