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stylesispunk · 1 month

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"Did the love affair maim you too"? Part iii

Joel Miller x f!reader

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Summary: Joel is trying to recover and understand his feelings for you, or It took him almost to lose you to know how important you are to him.

word count: 14k (this is what I call, the filling chapter)

warnings: Angst, fluff, mentions of blood, injuries, and mentions of death, more angst. (haha) f

a/n: Hello! Part 3 is here! Once again, I want to thank everyone who had read this story, so much love for you. I don't feel so proud about this one, this chapter is more like a filling one, the one stuck in the middle, the important things that will happen here were going to happen but not in the same way because I wrote it in a rush and after being sad because of a man. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Happy reading.

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

The storm kept raging outside, with fury, while these four walls you were in were protecting you from the haunting memories on your mind.

Your heart was beating hard against your ribs; you could feel the air abandoning your lungs, and your head was spinning all over the place, trying to focus your racing thoughts on another thing but Joel.

The Joel who was standing in your living room.

The Joel who remembered your fear of storms

The Joel who had come to your house to protect you from your demons.

The Joel who was now looking at you with a glimpse of hope in his eyes, patiently waiting for you to utter a word.

“You said you would never wear that t-shirt again,” you said bitterly, your voice tinged with an emotion you couldn’t quite name. It wasn’t anger, but it wasn’t quite sadness either. It was a fine line between a lingering sense of loss and longing for him.

A feeling you couldn’t let go.

Joel’s gaze flicked down to the shirt he was wearing, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I did, didn’t I?” he said softly, almost as if he were talking to himself. “I said a lot of things that morning.”

You remembered that morning all too well. It was the day everything changed—the day Joel had looked at you like you were the only thing keeping him grounded in a world gone mad. But then he got his memories back, and the man who had loved you was gone, replaced by the same cold, distant Joel who had once barely tolerated your presence.

“I said a lot of things too,” you replied, your voice trembling with the effort to keep your emotions in check. “But none of it matters now, does it?”

Joel flinched at the bitterness in your tone, his hand rubbing the back of his neck—a nervous habit you had come to recognize. “It matters,” he said quietly, his eyes searching yours as if trying to find something in the depths of your gaze. “I just… I don’t remember everything, but I remember you. I remember enough to know that I don’t want to lose you.”

The air in your lungs got stuck. You wanted to believe him, wanted to trust that the man who had once loved you was still in there somewhere, fighting to break free. But the wounds of his departure were still too fresh, too raw.

“It’s not that simple,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the howling wind. “You don’t just get to pick up where we left off, Joel. You can’t just—”

“I know,” he cut in, his voice firm but not unkind. He took a step closer, his boots scruffing against the worn floorboards. “I know it’s not that simple. But I’m here now, and I’m not leaving. Not again. Not unless you tell me to.”

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it difficult to speak. The walls around you felt like they were closing in, the memories of what you had lost pressing down on you like a weight you couldn’t bear. You had built up defenses and kept people at arm’s length because losing them hurt too much. But here was Joel, standing before you, offering a glimmer of something you thought was lost forever.

“What do you want, Joel?” You said, your voice almost breaking.

Joel hesitated, his eyes searching yours as if he were trying to find the right words, the ones that would make both of you go back in time to that night when you shared your “I love you” for the first time, even though you both knew it wasn't that simple. The storm outside roared on, shaking the walls, but it was the storm inside that threatened to tear you apart.

“I want…” He trailed off, running a hand through his damp hair, his brow furrowed in thought. “I want to make things right. I know I messed up; I know I hurt you—hell, I hurt myself too. But I can’t keep pretending like you don’t matter, like this—” he gestured between the two of you, “—doesn’t matter.”

Your heart clenched at his words, the sincerity in his voice making it harder to keep the walls up, but you couldn't just let him back in, not after everything. “You can’t just say that and expect it to fix things,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t remember, Joel. You don’t remember what we had.”

“I know,” he said quietly, his eyes never leaving yours. “I don’t remember everything, and I don’t know if I ever will. But I remember enough to know that losing you would be the worst mistake of my life.”

You swallowed hard, the emotions welling up inside you, threatening to spill over.

“I-I- When you’re close to me, I feel like I can’t breathe.” He said emotions made his voice tremble. “All that pain I get from the migraines stops the second you’re a closer, and I didn’t know why, but my body somehow felt it. It’s like something inside my chest is aching for you.”

Joel's words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of his confession. The raw vulnerability in his voice was something you hadn't heard in him before, something that cut through the layers of hurt and anger you'd built up around yourself. The storm outside seemed to intensify as if echoing the turmoil within you, but all you could focus on was the man standing before you, baring his soul in a way that left you breathless.

Your heart raced as you tried to process what he was saying, the truth of his words settling deep into your bones. The walls you had put up to protect yourself, to keep him at a distance, were crumbling, and the emotions you had tried so hard to keep buried were bubbling to the surface.

“I don’t know what this is,” he continued, his voice trembling as he struggled to find the right words. “But I can’t ignore it. I’ve tried; God knows I’ve tried, but I can’t. Every time I’m near you, it’s like something inside me is telling me that I need you, that I can’t lose you again.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you bit your lip, trying to keep them at bay. You wanted to stay strong, to keep the walls up, but Joel’s words were breaking through every defense you had. His pain, his confusion, mirrored your own, and the connection between you was undeniable, even if it was tangled up in the mess of lost memories and shattered trust.

“I’m scared, Joel,” you admitted, your voice barely more than a whisper. It was the first time you had allowed yourself to say it out loud, to acknowledge the fear that had been gnawing at you ever since he had walked back into your life. “I’m scared of getting hurt again, of losing you all over again.”

He took a step closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek, his touch warm and reassuring. “I’m scared too,” he confessed, his thumb brushing away the tear that had escaped down your cheek. “I don’t know what’s happening to me,” Joel continued, his voice thick with emotion. “After today, I went to my house, and I remembered kissing you. I remember your face everywhere, and it felt like my own heart feared my feelings because I know I did things wrong with you, and I don’t want this.” He spoke.

“What do you mean?” you asked, feeling the tears in the corner of your eyes.

“I don’t want to love you,” he confessed.

Joel's confession hung in the air like a heavy weight, pressing down on both of you. His words were raw, laced with a vulnerability that was almost painful to witness. You felt your breath catch in your throat, the tears that had been threatening to spill over finally breaking free.

For a moment, you were stunned into silence, the admission cutting through you like a knife. The honesty in his voice, the fear that laced his words—it was all too much, too overwhelming.

I don’t want to love you felt like an insult being thrown at you.

You had allowed him to get closer and touch you just to be hurt by his words again.

You took a step back, pulling away from his touch as the hurt washed over you in waves. “Why would you say that?” You choked out, your voice trembling with a mixture of anger and heartbreak. "Why did you come here to say that to me?”

Joel’s face crumpled, regret and anguish etched into his features as he saw the effect his words had on you. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you. But I’m scared, and I don’t know how to handle this.”

The room felt stifling, the walls closing in as the weight of his confession settled between you. You had allowed yourself to hope, to believe that maybe, just maybe, you could have something good in this broken world. But now, that hope felt like it was slipping through your fingers, leaving you with nothing but the cold, harsh reality of what was happening.

“I let you in,” you whispered, the tears streaming down your face. “I let you get close, and now you’re telling me you don’t want it? That you don’t want me?”

“No,” Joel said quickly, shaking his head as he reached for you, but you took another step back, keeping the distance between you. “That’s not what I’m saying. I do want you—I want you more than anything. But I’m afraid. I’m afraid of what it means and of what I could lose. I’ve lost so much already, and I don’t know if I can take losing you too.”

His words tugged at your heart, but the hurt was still too fresh, too raw. “You’re hurting me right now, Joel,” you said, your voice trembling. “By telling me you don’t want to love me, you’re hurting me more.”

Joel's face twisted in anguish as he heard your words, the pain in your voice cutting through him like a knife. He took a shaky breath, his eyes filled with a mixture of regret and desperation.

“I don’t know how to deal with this,” he admitted, his voice trembling. “I don’t know how to deal with these feelings. It’s all so damn confusing, and I’m scared—scared of what loving you means, scared of what it could cost me, scared of how much I want you.”

His confession hung in the air, thick with the weight of emotions neither of you had been prepared to confront. The vulnerability in his eyes was something you had rarely seen in him, and it shook you to your core.

“I’ve spent so long keeping everyone at arm’s length,” Joel continued, his voice cracking under the strain of his emotions. “It was easier that way, safer. But you got under my skin. You made me feel things I thought I’d forgotten how to feel. And now, I don’t know what to do with all of it.”

You wanted to be angry, to lash out at him for pulling you in just to push you away, but the pain in his eyes was so real, so raw, that your anger melted away, leaving only a deep, aching sadness in its place.

You looked away, unable to meet his gaze. The truth was, you were terrified—terrified of the feelings that were still so raw, so unresolved. Terrified of the possibility of opening yourself up again, only to be hurt even more deeply.

“I would rather lose you now than do it later,” you whispered, finally meeting his eyes. “The world we live in, the losses we’ve faced—it’s too much. And I don’t know if I can survive losing someone else again.”

Joel’s face tightened, his jaw clenching as he absorbed your words. The pain etched into his features was almost unbearable to see, a reflection of the turmoil that had been brewing between you both for so long.

“I get it,” he said quietly, his voice strained. “I’ve lost more than I ever thought I could bear too. But walking away now, pushing me out—that won’t make it hurt any less if something happens. It just means we never had a chance to try.”

You shook your head, the tears welling up in your eyes. “But what if trying just makes it worse? What if we end up hating each other even more because of it?”

Joel took a small step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “I’m scared too,” he admitted, his voice low and rough. “But I’d rather take that risk with you than walk away and always wonder what we could’ve had. Because whether you see it or not, you’ve already gotten under my skin. I don’t want to let you go, not when I feel like I’m just starting to remember why I care.”

Your breath hitched, his words pulling at the fragile strings of your heart. The honesty in his eyes, the raw emotion in his voice—it was everything you had feared and longed for all at once.

“But what if it falls apart?” You whispered, the uncertainty trembling in your voice.

“Then we’ll deal with it,” Joel said, his voice steady.

The storm outside continued to rage, the wind howling against the walls of the house, but inside, a fragile understanding was beginning to form. It wasn’t a solution; it wasn’t a cure for the pain you both carried, but it was a step—a small, tentative step towards something more.

“You treated me so badly,” you sobbed, shaking your head.

Joel's expression softened, the weight of your words pressing down on him. He knew you were right—he had treated you badly, even before everything had changed. The guilt gnawed at him, a constant reminder of the mistakes he had made.

"I know," he murmured, his voice thick with regret. "I know I did, and I'm so damn sorry for that. I was... I was lost, and I took it out on you. I pushed you away because I was scared—scared of letting someone in, scared of getting close. But that doesn't excuse what I did. You didn’t deserve any of it."

“But you did it anyway,” you choked out, your voice breaking with the weight of your emotions. “You hurt me, Joel. You made me feel like I was nothing, like I didn’t matter.”

His hand trembled as he reached out to you, his fingers brushing against your arm in a hesitant, almost pleading gesture. “You matter more to me than you know,” he said, his voice raw with emotion. “I see that now, and I’m so sorry I didn’t see it sooner. I don’t know how to make up for what I did, but I want to try. I want to be better, for you and for me.”

“I didn’t choose to fall in love with you, Joel,” you shot, your voice breaking with the force of your emotions. “But here we are, and it’s tearing me apart!”

The room seemed to vibrate with the intensity of your argument, the storm outside a reflection of the storm within. Neither of you wanted to back down; both were too hurt and confused to see a way forward.

“Why are you so afraid of letting me in now?” Joel asked, his voice softer but still filled with desperation. “What’s changed? What’s different to the last time?”

You hesitated, the truth clawing at your throat, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. I couldn’t admit that you were terrified of losing him again, of opening yourself up only to have it all ripped away.

“What’s changed?” Joel pressed, “Tell me.”

Your eyes met his, and in that moment, the weight of everything you had been holding back finally broke through. “I’m afraid, Joel,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I’m afraid that if I let myself love you again, it’s going to destroy me. And I don’t know if I can survive that. I can’t lose someone for a third time.”

Joel’s expression softened, his frustration giving way to something deeper, a sadness that mirrored your own. He reached out as if to touch you but hesitated, his hand hovering between you as if uncertain of its place.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said quietly, the weight of his own fears etched in every word. “But I’m scared too, scared of what happens if we don’t try. I know I screwed up, and I know I can’t take back what I did, but losing you without even trying? I don’t think I can live with that.”

His voice was raw, vulnerable in a way you hadn’t heard before. The storm outside seemed to still for a moment, the wind’s howl dying down as the two of you stood there, the silence between you filled with the unspoken pain and longing that had been building for weeks.

“I’m not asking you to forgive me right away,” Joel continued, his eyes never leaving yours. “And I’m not asking you to forget what happened. But I am asking for a chance—a chance to prove that I’m not going to walk away again, that I’m not going to forget what you mean to me.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision as you looked at him. His words touched something deep inside you, a part of you that still longed for the connection you’d once shared, despite everything that had happened.

“I don’t know if I can do this, Joel,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know if I can survive losing you a second time.”

He took a step closer, finally closing the distance between you, his hand finding yours in a tentative, gentle touch. “I’m not going to put pressure on you, okay?” he assured you. “For now, let me stay here so you don’t have to be afraid of the storm alone, okay?”

You hesitated, your emotions a tangled mess of fear, longing, and uncertainty. The storm outside was relentless, the wind howling and rain lashing against the windows, mirroring the turmoil inside you. But there was something in Joel’s voice, in the gentle way he held your hand, that made you want to believe him.

“Okay,” you finally whispered, nodding slightly. “You can stay.”

Joel’s expression softened with relief, and he gently squeezed your hand, as if to reassure you that he wasn’t going anywhere. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

The two of you stood there in silence for a moment, the weight of everything that had happened still hanging heavy in the air. But for now, in this small, fragile moment, there was a sense of peace between you.

Joel glanced around the room, taking in the familiar surroundings before his gaze returned to you. “Where do you want me to set up?” he asked, his voice gentle, as if he didn’t want to disrupt the delicate balance of the moment.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “You can stay in the living room,” you said, gesturing toward the couch. “I’ll get some blankets for you.”

He nodded, watching as you moved to gather what he’d need. As you handed him the blankets, your fingers brushed against his, and you felt a warmth that contrasted sharply with the chill in the air.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Joel asked, his concern evident as he unfolded the blankets.

You managed a small, faint smile. “I’ll be fine,” you said, though the truth was, you weren’t entirely sure. But for now, having him close, knowing you weren’t alone in the storm, brought a small measure of comfort.

Joel settled onto the couch, arranging the blankets around him. As you turned to head back to your room, you paused, glancing back at him. He was watching you, his eyes filled with a mixture of worry and something else, something deeper that you couldn’t quite name.

“Goodnight, Joel,” you said softly, your voice barely audible over the sound of the storm.

“Goodnight,” he replied, his voice equally soft. “I’m right here if you need anything.”

Joel made his way through the snow-dusted streets of Jackson, his breath puffing out in clouds as he walked toward Lori's house. The early morning light cast long shadows, the town still quiet except for the distant sound of someone chopping wood. The air was crisp, biting at his skin, but it was nothing compared to the unease twisting in his gut.

He reached Lori’s door and knocked, the sound echoing in the stillness. After a moment, the door creaked open, and Lori stood there, wrapped in a thick sweater, her hair tousled from sleep.

“Joel?” she asked, surprise flickering across her face. “What are you doing here so early?”

“I needed to talk to you,” Joel said, his tone serious. He stepped inside when she gestured him in, the warmth of the house enveloping him.

Lori led him to the small living area, where a fire crackled in the hearth. She sat down on the worn couch, motioning for him to join her, but Joel remained standing, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

“What’s going on?” Lori asked, concern creeping into her voice as she noticed his tension.

Joel took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. “Lori, I need to be honest with you,” he began, his voice steady but laced with regret. “What we’ve been doing—it was never meant to be serious, and I think we both knew that.��

Lori’s expression shifted slightly, her eyes narrowing as she searched his face. “Yeah, I know. We were just having fun, keeping things casual. But why do I feel like there’s a ‘but’ coming?”

Joel nodded, appreciating her straightforwardness. “There is,” he admitted. “I’ve been figuring some things out, and I’ve realized that I can’t keep doing this. I’ve got someone else in my life, someone who means more to me than I even realized until recently. I need to focus on that, on her.”

Lori’s shoulders slumped slightly, and she let out a small, resigned sigh. “You’re talking about her, aren’t you? The nurse?”

Joel nodded, unable to meet her eyes for a moment. “Yeah. I need to make things right with her.”

Lori’s demeanor shifted noticeably, her smile fading into a tight, bitter expression. “So, you’re just going to walk away? After everything?”

Joel winced at the edge in her voice, sensing that this wasn’t going to go as smoothly as he had hoped. “I’m not walking away from you out of spite. I just need to make a choice, and right now, my focus has to be on fixing what I’ve broken.”

Lori crossed her arms, her eyes flashing with anger. “So, what? You think you can just come here, say a few words, and everything will be okay? You think you can just turn your back on me and expect me to be fine with it?”

Joel took a step closer, trying to keep his tone calm. “Lori, this isn’t about making you okay with it. This is about me trying to do what’s right. I’m sorry if that’s not what you want to hear.”

Her anger flared. “Right? What’s right? You think it’s right to just discard people like they don’t matter? You think you can just decide to play at relationships and then bail when it suits you?”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Joel said, his voice heavy with regret. “But I can’t keep pretending this isn’t what it is. I need to focus on the person who really matters to me.”

Lori’s face was flushed with emotion, her voice rising. “You know what, Joel? Maybe you should have thought about that before you got involved with me. Maybe you should have been honest from the start instead of playing games.”

Joel looked away, feeling the weight of her words. “I’m sorry. I truly am. But I can’t change what’s happened. I can only try to make things right moving forward.”

Lori’s eyes were filled with frustration and hurt. “Yeah, well, it’s a little too late for that now. You should go.”

Joel nodded, feeling the sting of her words. “I understand. I’m sorry for everything.”

As Joel made his way back through Jackson, he couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that settled in his chest. Ending things with Lori had been the right thing to do, but it also felt like one more piece of his life was falling apart. And now, all he could think about was the fragile connection he was trying to rebuild with you.

But Lori wouldn’t let things go so easily. Hurt and angry, she wasn’t ready to accept that Joel could just walk away from her.

You found yourself slipping back into old habits, avoiding Joel at every turn, retreating into your own space whenever he was near. The fragile connection you had started to rebuild felt too delicate, too vulnerable, and the fear of what it might mean was overwhelming. So, you did what you had always done when things got too close: you pushed him away.

You threw yourself into your work, taking extra shifts on the infirmary, volunteering for the more dangerous runs that others were hesitant to take. Anything to keep your mind occupied and your heart locked away. But no matter how hard you tried to ignore it, the memory of Joel’s confession lingered, gnawing at the edges of your thoughts.

Every time you crossed paths with Joel, you made sure to keep the interaction as brief as possible. A curt nod, a mumbled greeting, and then you were gone before he could say anything more. You avoided the places you knew he frequented, taking different routes and making excuses to stay away from the common areas where you might run into him. You even started leaving for your shifts earlier and returning later, ensuring that you would miss him entirely.

But Joel wasn’t blind to what you were doing. He noticed the way you avoided his gaze, the way you kept your distance, and it cut him deeper than he would ever admit. The truth was, he understood why you were doing it. After everything that had happened between you—the misunderstandings, the hurt, the fear—it made sense that you would want to protect yourself.

Still, that didn’t make it any easier to bear.

As days passed, you found yourself trying to avoid Joel at all costs. You busied yourself with your duties, went out of your way to steer clear of places where you might run into him, and kept your interactions with others brief and impersonal. The emotional turmoil and the fear of vulnerability were too overwhelming for you to face him directly.

Joel, for his part, made several attempts to reach out. He tried to catch you in the common hall, to corner you in the infirmary, or to find a moment alone when you were on patrol. But every time, you were quick to deflect or disappear before he could get close.

One afternoon, as you were finishing up a shift at the infirmary, Joel appeared at the doorway. He hesitated, searching your face for any sign of recognition or willingness to talk. His heart ached at the sight of you, knowing how much he had hurt you and feeling powerless to bridge the gap between you.

You were in the middle of organizing some supplies when he cleared his throat, catching your attention. You looked up, your expression guarded.

"Hey," Joel began, his voice soft but filled with emotion. "Can we talk?"

You shook your head, avoiding his gaze. "There’s nothing to talk about, Joel. Not right now."

He sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. "I know I’ve messed things up. I just—"

"I said no," you interrupted, trying to keep your voice steady. "I need some space."

Joel’s footsteps echoed softly in the hallway as he closed the distance between you. His presence was undeniable, and the intensity in his gaze was palpable even if you refused to meet it.

“Please,” he said quietly, his voice almost a whisper. “Just a moment. I need you to hear me out.”

You could feel the weight of his words pressing against your resolve. The space you had demanded was shrinking with every step he took closer. Your heart pounded in your chest, and the air between you seemed to crackle with unspoken tension.

“You don’t understand,” Joel continued, his voice tinged with frustration and desperation. “I’m not asking for everything to be okay right now. I just need a chance to show you that I’m willing to change.”

You finally looked up, meeting his gaze. His eyes were filled with a mixture of vulnerability and resolve, and for a moment, you saw the man behind the mistakes—the man who was still trying to find his way back.

“Why should I believe you? You came to my house in the middle of the night, then you were nowhere to be found next morning.” You said, your voice trembling slightly despite your best efforts to remain composed. “After everything that’s happened, why should I trust that you’ll actually change?”

Joel’s expression softened, and he took another step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “Because I know I’ve hurt you, and I hate that I’ve done that. But I’m not giving up. I’m trying to be better, for myself and for you. I know it’s going to take time, but I need you to at least let me show you that I’m trying.”

The air between you was charged, the emotions swirling around like a storm ready to break. You could feel the warmth of his body radiating towards you, and despite your best efforts to hold your ground, you found yourself drawn to the intensity of the moment.

“Joel,” you began, but the words caught in your throat. The storm in your heart was a tempest of conflicting feelings, and you struggled to find a path through it.

Joel reached out slowly, his hand on your waist, sending a shiver down your spine.

Joel’s hand rested gently on your waist, and the touch was electrifying. It sent a shiver down your spine, stirring feelings that you had tried to bury beneath layers of hurt and confusion. His gaze was unwavering, filled with a depth of emotion that seemed to pierce through the storm clouded in your heart.

“I know I can’t undo the past,” Joel said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I’m here now, and I want to make things right. I need you to know that I’m trying, even if it’s hard to believe.”

Your breath hitched as his touch lingered, the warmth of his hand seeping through the fabric of your clothes and pressing against your skin. The proximity was almost overwhelming, and you could feel the gravity of the moment pulling you closer to him.

For a moment, the world outside seemed to fade away. The memories of past pain and anger were still there, but they were overshadowed by the raw vulnerability in Joel’s eyes. His presence was a powerful force, and it was hard to ignore the way he made you feel—caught between the past and the promise of something new.

“Joel,” you whispered again, but this time your voice was filled with a mixture of longing and apprehension. “I don’t know if I can, if I’m ready.”

Joel’s eyes softened, and he took a small, hesitant step closer, his hand still resting on your waist. “You don’t have to be ready right now. I’m not asking for everything to be fixed in an instant. I just want you to know that I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. I’ll wait for you, no matter how long it takes.”

The sincerity in his voice and the gentle touch of his hand were almost too much to bear. You felt the walls you had built around yourself beginning to crumble, and the storm in your heart seemed to calm, if only slightly.

“I just need to figure things out,” you said softly, your voice trembling. “I need time.”

Joel nodded, his expression a mix of understanding and relief. “Take all the time you need.” He assured you, “But I want to let you know I begged Tommy to put us together on patrol tomorrow.”

You looked at him, surprised by his insistence. “Why would you do that?”

Joel’s gaze was unwavering, a mix of resolve and vulnerability. “Because I want to be there for you. I want to show you that I’m committed to making things right, even if it means being there for you on patrol, even if it’s just another day together.”

His honesty was disarming, and despite the confusion and pain, you felt a flicker of warmth at his gesture. You understood his need to be close, to prove his commitment in any way he could.

“I appreciate that,” you said softly, your voice tinged with both gratitude and hesitation. “But I need to make sure I’m ready. I don’t want to bring any more complications.”

Joel nodded, his eyes showing a mixture of understanding and resolve. “I get it. Just know that I’m not pushing you. I’m here to support you, however you need.”

The sincerity in his eyes and the softness of his tone made it clear that he was willing to wait, to be patient. As the moment stretched between you, the storm in your heart seemed to settle even more, leaving behind a fragile sense of calm.

With a final, gentle squeeze on your waist, Joel stepped back, giving you the space you needed. “Get some rest,” he said softly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As you watched him walk away, the promise of a new day together hung in the air, a delicate thread of hope amidst the lingering uncertainties. The path forward was still uncertain, but for now, there was a small but significant step towards healing and reconnection.

The days after the storm, the skies were clear, a crisp blue stretching above Jackson as you and Joel prepared for your patrol. Despite the lingering tension from the night before, there was an unspoken agreement between you to carry on as usual, to slip back into the familiar rhythm of your routine.

The morning was quiet, the only sound being the crunch of gravel underfoot as you walked side by side, your horses trailing behind you. The air was cool, the ground still damp from the storm, and the world felt strangely peaceful after the chaos of the previous night.

As you rode through the woods, the silence between you was comfortable, but as always, it didn’t take long for a familiar banter to spark up.

“You always insist on taking the longer route,” Joel grumbled, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. “We could be back by lunch if we just cut through the valley.”

You rolled your eyes, a small smile tugging at your lips. “And miss out on the view from the ridge? Not a chance. Besides, you’re always in such a hurry. What’s the rush, Joel?”

“I just don’t see the point in dragging things out when there’s work to be done,” he shot back, though there was no real heat in his voice. It was the kind of argument you had a dozen times before, more out of habit than any real disagreement.

“You need to learn to appreciate the little things,” you teased, nudging him playfully with your elbow. “Like this beautiful day and the fact that we’re not freezing our asses off in a storm.”

Joel huffed, though you could see the corners of his mouth twitching as he tried to suppress a smile. “You sound like Tommy,” he muttered.

You were about to respond when your foot caught on a loose rock, sending you stumbling forward. It happened so quickly that you barely had time to react, your arms flailing as you tried to regain your balance.

But before you could hit the ground, Joel’s hand shot out, grabbing you by the arm and pulling you back. The force of the movement caused you to overcompensate, and instead of falling to the ground, you ended up falling right into Joel, your chest colliding with his as you both tumbled backward.

You landed on top of him with an “oof,” your hands braced against his chest as you tried to steady yourself. For a moment, neither of you moved, the sudden closeness freezing you both in place.

Your faces were inches apart, your breath mingling with his as you looked down at him, your eyes locking. You could feel his heart pounding under your hands, the rapid thud of it mirroring your own.

The world around you seemed to fade away; the only thing you could focus on was the way his eyes searched yours, the intensity of his gaze sending a shiver down your spine. There was something raw and unguarded in the way he looked at you, as if he were seeing you for the first time, or maybe remembering you in a way he hadn’t in a long time.

“Careful there,” Joel said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t want you hurtin’ yourself.”

His words were gentle, but there was an undercurrent of something deeper, something that made your heart race even faster. You could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, the roughness of his hands as they held you steady, and for a moment, you were lost in the sensation, in the closeness of him.

“Thanks,” you breathed, your voice just as soft. You didn’t move; you didn’t dare break the moment, but you knew you couldn’t stay like this forever.

Reluctantly, you started to pull back, but not before you saw the flicker of disappointment in Joel’s eyes. It was there for just a second, but it was enough to make your heart ache and remind you of the delicate balance you were trying to maintain.

Once you were back on your feet, you offered him a hand, helping him up. He took it, his grip firm but lingering just a moment longer than necessary, his touch sending a warm tingle through you.

“Guess I should watch where I’m going,” you said with a small, self-deprecating laugh, trying to break the tension.

Joel just nodded, his eyes still on you, something unreadable in his expression. “Yeah,” he said quietly, his voice thick with something you couldn’t quite place. “You should.”

“You blushed,” Joel said softly, his voice carrying a teasing edge as he dusted off his clothes.

His words caught you off guard, and your eyes widened slightly in surprise. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks again, the flush creeping up your neck as you realized he was right. You had blushed, and he had noticed.

“I did not,” you muttered, though the denial was weak, the embarrassment clear in your tone as you tried to avoid his gaze.

Joel just chuckled, the sound low and rich, and there was a warmth in his eyes that made your stomach flutter. “Sure, you didn’t,” he said, clearly unconvinced. He wasn’t about to let you off the hook that easily.

You shook your head, trying to will away the blush that you knew was only deepening with every second. “Just watch where you’re going next time,” you shot back, trying to deflect the attention from yourself.

Joel smirked, his expression softening as he looked at you with that familiar mix of amusement and affection. “You’re the one who tripped,” he reminded you, but there was no real bite to his words. If anything, he seemed almost pleased, as if the moment had lightened the tension that had been lingering between you since the night before.

You huffed in mock annoyance, though the smile tugging at your lips betrayed your true feelings. “Fine, you win this round,” you conceded, rolling your eyes playfully.

Joel just shook his head, still smiling as he started walking again; his pace slowed enough for you to fall in step beside him. “Don’t worry,” he said, his tone more serious now, though the warmth remained. “I’ve got your back. Always.”

His words, simple as they were, carried a weight that made your heart ache in the best way. You knew he meant it. For a mere moment of time, Joel seemed to be the one who woke up that day after his accident convinced he was going to make you fall in love with him. And though you weren’t sure what the future held, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of comfort in his presence.

“I have to ask you something,” you began, unsure of how approaching the delicate topic you were about to dive into

“Sure.”

“When your daughter died.“

Joel’s reaction was immediate, his expression shifting from the tender warmth of a moment ago to a guarded hardness. His eyes, which had been so open and vulnerable, narrowed as he looked at you, his body tensing.

“How do you know about that?” He asked, his voice low and edged with a defensiveness you hadn’t heard from him in a long time.

You hesitated, realizing that you had touched on a wound that was still raw and still painful for him. The last thing you wanted was to push him away, especially when things had been starting to mend between you.

“Joel, I—” you began, struggling to find the right words. “You told me a while ago.”

He stayed silent, his gaze still intense, but there was a flicker of something else in his eyes now—maybe fear, maybe grief. You couldn’t be sure.

“I just… I want to understand you better,” you continued, your voice softening as you tried to bridge the gap between you.

Joel’s jaw clenched, and for a moment, you feared he was going to shut down completely. But then he sighed, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly.

“It’s not something I like to talk about,” he finally said, his voice rough with emotion. “What happened to her—it broke me.” He said, walking forward.

“Did you feel like life stopped for you at that moment?” You asked, making him stop on his tracks.

Joel stopped dead in his tracks, the question hanging in the air between you like a weight that neither of you knew how to bear. His back was to you, his shoulders tense, and for a moment, you weren’t sure if he was going to respond or just walk away.

When he finally turned to face you, his expression was unreadable, but his eyes His eyes held a depth of pain that took your breath away.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “It did.”

He looked down, as if he couldn’t bear to meet your gaze any longer, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. “Everything just stopped. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. It was like the world just shattered, and I was stuck in the middle of the wreckage, trying to find a way out, but there wasn’t one.”

You stepped closer to him, feeling the urge to close the distance between you to offer some kind of comfort, but you hesitated, unsure if he would welcome it. Instead, you just stood there, letting him speak, letting him finally give voice to the pain that had been locked inside him for so long.

“After that, nothing mattered,” he continued, his voice raw with emotion. “Nothing felt real. I just went through the motions and did what I had to do to survive. But there was this emptiness, this void that nothing could fill. And I didn’t think I’d ever be able to move past it.” He paused for a moment. “But then Ellie appeared, and I felt like a dad again.”

He glanced at you, searching your eyes for understanding. “It wasn’t the same, not by a long shot. But she gave me something to fight for, something to care about. I couldn’t just give up when she needed me. I had to keep going for her.”

The vulnerability in his voice was heartbreaking, and you could see how much Ellie meant to him and how she had somehow managed to pull him back from the edge. The bond they shared was unique, forged in the fires of loss and survival, and it had become a lifeline for him in ways you were only beginning to understand.

“Ellie’s special,” you said softly, not wanting to break the moment but needing to acknowledge the significance of what he was sharing with you. “She’s lucky to have you.”

Joel’s voice trembled as he spoke, the raw emotion seeping through the cracks of the façade he’d been holding onto. “Then you appeared,” he admitted, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I felt like you reminded me of the good times and of how sweet people used to be before all of this. And having to face that, it just reminded me of everything I lost.”

The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, and you felt your own heartache for him. Joel had been through so much, had lost so much, and now here he was, standing in front of you, his walls slowly crumbling as he let you see the parts of himself he kept hidden from the world.

“I didn’t mean to make things harder for you,” you said quietly, your voice laced with regret. “I never wanted to bring up old wounds.”

Joel shook his head, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Oh god, no. It’s not your fault. I was an asshole to you. You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just seeing someone like you, someone who still has that kindness, that light; it’s like looking at a world that doesn’t exist anymore. And it scares me.”

“Then why did you do it?” you asked, hoping that in the middle of this vulnerable side of Joel, he would be able to tell the truth. “You were nice to me at the beginning, then you were you.”

Joel’s expression faltered, and you could see the internal struggle play out across his face. He hesitated, clearly torn between wanting to protect you from the truth and the desire to finally be honest.

“You really want to know?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. There was a vulnerability in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before, a rawness that made your heart tighten in your chest.

“Yes,” you replied, your voice steady despite the nervous flutter in your stomach. “I need to know why, Joel.”

He exhaled deeply, running a hand through his hair as if trying to gather the courage to say what needed to be said. “One night you were tipsy. Just talking. I walked you home, and then you kissed me.”

Your breath hitched; the memory completely lost to you. “I kissed you?” you repeated, the disbelief evident in your tone.

Joel nodded slowly, his eyes searching yours for any sign that you remembered. “You did. And the next day, you acted like nothing happened. Like it was just another day.”

You felt a surge of confusion and frustration. “I don’t remember that, Joel. I was probably too out of it. But why would that make you treat me the way you did?”

His jaw clenched, the muscle in his cheek ticking as he tried to find the right words. “Because it scared the hell out of me,” he admitted, his voice strained. “I’d been fighting these feelings for so long, trying to keep them buried, and then you kissed me, and it was like everything I’d been holding back came rushing to the surface.”

You stared at him, trying to process what he was saying. “So you pushed me away,” you said, the realization dawning on you.

“I didn’t know what else to do,” Joel confessed, his voice thick with regret. “I didn’t want to risk losing you. But at the same time, I couldn’t just pretend like nothing had changed. So I built up walls and acted like it didn’t matter, like you didn’t matter. But you do matter, more than I ever let on. And I’m sorry for being an asshole to you. You didn’t deserve that.”

The anger you’d felt simmering beneath the surface began to bubble over, your emotions a tangled mess of hurt and confusion. “So all this time, you were just punishing me for something I didn’t even remember? For something that clearly didn’t mean as much to me as it did to you?”

Joel winced at your words, the guilt evident in his eyes. “I know how it sounds, and I’m sorry. I was just I was scared, alright? Scared of what I was feeling, scared of what it could mean. And I took it out on you. I’m not proud of it, but that’s the truth.”

You took a step back, needing some space to process everything. “You should have just talked to me, Joel. We could have figured this out together instead of… whatever this mess is.”

“I know,” he said, his voice filled with remorse. “I messed up. And I know it’s going to take time to fix things, if I even can. But I’m willing to try if you’ll let me.”

The storm of emotions swirling inside you made it hard to think clearly. You felt hurt, angry, and confused, but also a small part of you understood where Joel was coming from, even if you didn’t like it.

“After your accident, I took care of you, Joel, and Oh my god! You’re such a baby,” you said.

Joel blinked, taken aback by your sudden shift in tone. “What?”

“You heard me,” you replied, crossing your arms. “You’re a baby. You couldn’t handle your feelings, so you pushed me away instead of just talking to me like an adult.”

Joel’s eyes narrowed slightly, a hint of defensiveness creeping into his expression. “It wasn’t that simple.”

“Oh, but it was!” You cut him off, your frustration bubbling over. “I was there for you, Joel. I took care of you when you needed it, and you repay me by treating me like crap because you couldn’t deal with a stupid kiss.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but you didn’t give him the chance. “You’re a grown man, Joel. You’ve been through hell and back, and you let something as small as this trip you up? You’re right, you messed up. But you didn’t just mess up; you acted like a damn child.”

Joel’s defensiveness faded, replaced by a look of chagrin. “And you are mad at me still for not remembering things!”

“Oh my god, I’m not mad at you for that reason. I’m mad because of how you treated me.”

Joel looked down, the weight of your words hitting him hard. “I know. And I don’t blame you for being mad. I was wrong, and I should have handled things differently.”

You could see the regret etched into his features, but it didn’t make the sting of his actions hurt any less. “You pushed me away when I was just trying to be there for you,” you said, your voice wavering slightly as the emotions you’d been holding back started to surface. “I trusted you, and you made me feel like I did something wrong when all I wanted was to be close to you.”

You wanted to believe him, but the wall you’d built around yourself was still firmly in place. “You broke something, Joel, and I don’t know if it can be fixed,” you admitted.

Joel’s face fell, but he didn’t back down. “I’ll do whatever it takes,” he promised, his voice barely above a whisper. “Just… don’t give up on me yet.”

There was a long silence as you both stood there, the weight of the conversation hanging heavily between you. Finally, you nodded, though it was more out of exhaustion than anything else. “I’m not giving up,” you said quietly. “But I’m not ready to forgive you either.”

Joel nodded slowly, accepting your words for what they were a small step forward.

The tension between you and Joel was palpable as you turned to continue your walk back to Jackson. The path ahead was familiar, but it felt different now, heavy with the weight of the conversation you’d just had. Joel walked a few steps behind you, giving you the space you needed, though you could feel his presence like a shadow at your back.

The silence between you was filled with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. Each step you took was a reminder of the fractured bond you were both trying to navigate. The trees around you swayed gently in the breeze, their leaves rustling like whispers in the quiet, but the usual comfort of the forest felt distant, overshadowed by the turmoil in your heart.

As the gates of Jackson came into view, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread. The town, once a place of refuge, now felt like a minefield of emotions you weren’t ready to face. You knew that when you walked through those gates, you’d have to see the people who had become your family, the ones who had seen you and Joel together, and you weren’t sure how to handle their questions or their concern.

Joel’s voice broke the silence, soft and hesitant. “We’re almost there. Do you want me to walk you the rest of the way?”

You paused, considering his offer. It was a simple question, but it carried so much more weight than either of you wanted to acknowledge. You were exhausted—physically, emotionally—and the idea of facing everyone on your own felt overwhelming. But at the same time, you weren’t sure if you could handle being so close to Joel after everything that had been said.

“I think I can manage,” you replied, your voice tinged with weariness. You turned to look at him, your expression softening just a little. “But… thank you.”

Joel nodded, understanding in his eyes. “I’ll be around if you need anything.”

You gave him a small, tired smile before turning back toward the gates. As you walked through them, you could feel the eyes of the guards and townspeople on you, their concern evident. You kept your head down, trying to avoid their gazes, and made your way to your quarters as quickly as possible.

Unbeknownst to you, Lori stood a short distance away, partially obscured by the shadows of a nearby building. Her eyes followed you and Joel, her expression unreadable. She had seen the two of you walking in together, though not exactly side by side, and the tension between you was obvious even from where she stood.

Lori’s heart clenched with a mixture of emotions she struggled to sort through. Anger, hurt, jealousy. They all swirled inside her, but there was something else too, something she didn’t want to admit. A pang of guilt, perhaps? She watched as Joel lingered near the gates, his gaze following you until you disappeared.

During net day, as you headed to the bar to grab something to eat for lunch, your thoughts were dancing around Joel’s words. And as if you were calling out for him, you saw him and Tommy sprinting towards you, their expressions tense and urgent.

“Hey!” Tommy called out, his voice sharp with worry. He reached you first, slightly out of breath, and placed a hand on your shoulder to steady himself. “We just got word—one of our patrol groups ran into raiders. They’re hurt, bad.”

Your heart skipped a beat, the air suddenly feeling colder around you. “Who? Where are they?” you asked, your voice shaky as fear began to creep in.

Joel was right behind Tommy, his face a mask of concern. “They’re bringing them in now. Maria sent a team to help. We need to get to the gates.”

The reality of the situation hit you like a punch to the gut. Your mind raced as you tried to process the information. “Do you know who’s hurt?” you managed to ask, even though you were dreading the answer.

Tommy shook his head. “We don’t know all the details yet. We just know they ran into trouble, and it wasn’t pretty. You should come with us.”

Without another word, the three of you started running towards the gates, your lunch forgotten. The closer you got, the more your heart pounded, fear clawing at your insides. The people of Jackson had become like family to you, and the thought of any of them being hurt—possibly worse—was unbearable.

As you neared the gates, you could see a small crowd gathering, everyone’s faces etched with worry. The gates creaked open, and you spotted the patrol group returning. The sight that met your eyes made your stomach drop.

Several members of the group were being supported by others, their clothes stained with blood and dirt. One of them was limping heavily, another clutching a makeshift bandage around their arm, and a third was barely conscious, their heads lolling to the side as they were carried in on a stretcher.

“Oh my God,” you whispered, your hand flying to your mouth in shock. You recognized some of the faces—people you’d shared meals with, worked alongside, and laughed with. Seeing them like this was like a nightmare come to life.

Joel was already moving towards the injured, his instincts kicking in. He glanced back at you, his expression a mix of determination and concern. “Come on,” he said, his voice firm. “We need to help.”

You immediately went into action, with the medical staff, two doctors, and you were there to assist and prepare the supplies you needed. The chaos of the scene was familiar, and you worked efficiently, focusing on the task at hand.

As you worked, you heard footsteps behind you and glanced up to see Joel entering the room. His face was pale, his usual confidence replaced with concern. He looked around, trying to make sense of the situation, and his eyes met yours. For a moment, you saw the same depth of emotion you had seen before, a silent understanding passing between you.

Joel approached you, his voice low. “How can I help?”

You were momentarily taken aback by the offer, but you didn’t have time to dwell on it. “Just keep out of the way for now. I need to focus on these guys. They’re in bad shape.”

Joel nodded and stepped back, watching with a mix of concern and helplessness as you and the medical staff worked. The minutes ticked by as you tended to the injured, applying bandages, administering pain relief, and stabilizing their conditions. The work was intense, but you were in your element, pushing aside any personal worries for the moment.

You moved swiftly from one patient to the next, checking vitals and administering care. When you reached Ethan, one of the patrol members who had been particularly badly hurt, you could see that he was in a bad state. His face was pale, and his breathing was shallow. His eyes, once sharp and alert, now seemed distant, lost.

"Ethan," you said softly, trying to get his attention. "How are you feeling? Can you tell me what's hurting the most?"

For a moment, Ethan didn't respond. His gaze was fixed on something far away, his mind seemingly adrift. You noticed a dark, spreading stain on his arm, and upon closer inspection, you realized with a jolt that it was a bite mark. The infection was spreading, and it was clear that Ethan was in the early stages of infection.

Panic surged through you as you looked up at Ethan's face, your heart sinking. "Ethan, you’ve been bitten. We need to—"

Before you could finish, Ethan’s eyes snapped back into focus. In a sudden, violent movement, he grabbed you by the neck, his grip strong and desperate. His expression was a mix of fear and anguish, and for a moment, you were taken aback by the sheer intensity of it.

"Get away from him!" Joel’s voice cut through the chaos. He rushed forward, grabbing Ethan’s arm and pulling it away from your neck, managing to pry Ethan’s fingers loose, though Ethan struggled against him.

You could feel your heart beating in your ears and how bad you were bearing for breathing.

The sudden force of Joel’s intervention broke Ethan’s hold, and he fell back, his breath ragged and his eyes wild. The other medical staff quickly moved in to restrain him, and you stumbled back, gasping for air, your hands instinctively rubbing your neck.

Joel’s eyes were wide with a mix of fear and anger. "Are you okay?" he asked urgently, his gaze scanning your face for any signs of injury or distress.

You nodded, though your voice was shaky. "I’m fine. Just… a bit shaken."

Joel’s expression softened with relief, but the concern didn’t leave his eyes. “We need to handle this. If he’s infected.” His voice trailed off, the grim reality settling in.

The gunshot put your attention back on Ethan, who now lay motionless on the ground.

The sharp sound of the gunshot echoed through the infirmary, pulling your attention back to Ethan. His body lay motionless on the ground, a grim testament to the harsh realities of your world. The medical staff had taken the necessary precautions, but the finality of the situation was palpable.

Joel’s face was a mask of conflicted emotions, his eyes shifting from the lifeless form of Ethan to you. The weight of what had just happened hung heavily in the air, and the reality of the infection and its consequences was stark and unforgiving.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. The adrenaline was still coursing through you, making it difficult to think clearly. The reality of Ethan's fate, coupled with the close call you had just experienced, left you feeling shaken and vulnerable.

“Are you sure you’re, okay?” Joel asked again, his voice softer now but still filled with concern.

You managed a nod, though your hands were still trembling slightly. “I’m alright. Just… a little rattled.”

Joel’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, his worry evident. He seemed to be grappling with his own emotions as well.

“Are you okay?” You asked, looking up at him.

Joel blinks, caught off guard by your question. He had been so focused on your well-being that it hadn’t occurred to him that you might be concerned about him too. He hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours as if trying to find the right words.

“I’m fine,” he finally said, though his voice was thick with emotion. But the way his hand lingered on your arm, the way his eyes softened when they met yours, told a different story.

You weren’t sure what made you do it; maybe it was the adrenaline still coursing through your veins or the rawness of the moment, but you reached up and gently touched his cheek.

Joel closed his eyes as your fingertips lightly grazed his cheek, the warmth of your touch sending a jolt through him. For a moment, the chaos of the scene around you seemed to fade into the background, leaving just the two of you in a fragile bubble of quiet intimacy.

He opened his eyes slowly, meeting your gaze with a mixture of vulnerability and gratitude. “You don’t need to worry about me,” he said softly, though his words lacked conviction. “I’ve seen worse.”

You nodded, understanding that while he might brush off concern for himself, the weight of the situation was affecting him deeply. “I know,” you said gently, your voice barely more than a whisper.

As the day wore on and the news of the raiders surrounding Jackson spread, the town sprang into action. The common area transformed into a hub of activity as people gathered to discuss a strategy to defend what everyone called home. The mood was tense but determined; everyone knew how critical it was to stay united and vigilant.

Tommy and Maria were at the forefront, rallying the community and coordinating efforts to ensure everyone's safety. Their voices cut through the cacophony of worried chatter as they outlined the plan.

“We need to have eyes on every approach,” Tommy said firmly. “We can’t afford to miss anything. If anyone sees anything suspicious, report it immediately.”

Maria nodded in agreement, her face a mask of resolve. “We’re going to split into groups. Some will keep watch from the perimeter; others will stay here and fortify the defenses.”

Amidst the crowd, you stepped forward, ready to volunteer for the lookout duty. “I’m in,” you said, raising your hand. “I can help keep watch.”

Joel, who had been helping with preparations, looked up sharply. “No,” he said, his voice firm. “You need to stay here. It’s too dangerous out there.”

You were taken aback by his sudden, forceful objection. “Joel, I can handle it. I’ve been out there before, and I know how to stay safe.”

Joel stepped closer, his eyes locking onto yours with a mixture of concern and frustration. “This isn’t the same as a routine patrol. The raiders are already here, and things are going to get rough. I don’t want you out there.”

“I’ve been dealing with that before,” you gritted between your teeth.

“She’s strong, but we need at least five more people,” Tommy said.

Joel's expression remained firm as he looked at you, but there was an unmistakable trace of worry in his eyes. “I get that you’ve been through a lot, but this isn’t just about being strong. It’s about the risk. I can’t—”

Tommy interjected, his voice steady but urgent. “She’s strong, Joel, but we need at least five more people out there to cover all the necessary positions. We don’t have enough eyes on the perimeter as it is.”

Maria nodded in agreement, glancing between you and Joel. “We need all the help we can get. I understand Joel’s concern, but the priority is to keep everyone safe. If you’re willing, we can use you out there.”

Joel’s gaze flickered between you and Tommy, the conflict clear on his face. He knew the stakes were high, and while his protective instincts were strong, he also recognized the necessity of having enough people on the ground.

“I don’t like it,” Joel said finally, his voice softer but still laden with concern.

Joel’s concern was palpable, but before he could say more, Lori stepped forward from the group, her expression determined. “If you’re worried about her, then let me go too,” she said firmly, her gaze meeting Joel’s.

Joel looked at Lori, surprise flickering across his face. “Lori, I—”

Lori cut him off, her tone resolute. “Look, I’ve got experience with situations like this. I’m willing to put myself out there. If it helps you feel better about her going, then let me join her.”

Maria glanced between Joel and Lori, clearly weighing the situation. “That could actually work,” she said thoughtfully. “If we have both of you out there, it might alleviate some of the pressure.”

Joel hesitated, still visibly torn. He didn’t trust Lori at all.

Joel’s eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at Lori, his concern clearly evident. He wasn’t entirely comfortable with the idea of her going out there with you, especially given the tension between the two of you.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Joel said, his voice low but firm. “Lori, you’ve got experience, but this situation is different. It’s more dangerous than anything we’ve faced recently.”

Lori met his gaze with equal determination. “I understand your concern, Joel, but if I can help keep things under control, then I’m willing to take the risk.”

Maria, sensing the mounting tension, stepped in to medierate. “Joel, I understand your hesitation. But we need to make sure we have enough people to cover all positions. If Lori’s offering to help and she’s capable, it might be our best option.”

Joel’s eyes flickered with frustration as he glanced at you, then back at Lori. “Alright,” he said reluctantly. “But both of you need to stay in touch and make sure you’re covering each other’s backs. I don’t want any risks.”

As the group readied themselves to head out, the tension was palpable. The urgency of the situation had everyone moving swiftly, but there was a lingering heaviness in the air, a mix of anxiety and unspoken feelings.

You and Joel exchanged one final, intense glance before you left. His eyes held a storm of emotions—concern, fear, and something deeper that you couldn’t quite place. It was clear he was struggling with the idea of you going out there, but he was also showing the resolve to stay behind and protect Jackson if things went wrong.

“Be careful,” Joel said, his voice soft but stern. There was a vulnerability in his tone that was almost painful to hear.

You nodded, feeling a lump in your throat. “I will. You too, Joel.”

With a final look, you turned and joined Tommy, Lori, and the rest of the group. As you walked away, you felt a mixture of resolve and unease. The path ahead was uncertain, and the weight of the responsibilities you carried felt heavier with each step.

The sky was darkening as you and Lori took your positions around Jackson. The sounds of the town preparing for the possible assault filled the air—voices calling out instructions, the clatter of equipment being readied, and the distant murmur of worried conversations.

Lori nodded, her expression softening slightly. “We’ll be careful. You have my word.”

You could see the weight of Joel’s concern in his posture, the way his jaw tightened and his eyes searched yours. It was clear he was still struggling with letting you go out there, but he was also facing the reality of the situation.

“Let’s get ready,” Maria said, stepping in to redirect the focus. “We’ve got to move fast if we’re going to set everything up in time.”

Joel and Tommy exchange a look from the distance. One look that said

Please protect her from all.

The group moved through the woods with tense precision. The night was dark, and the forest seemed to close in around them, the trees casting long, eerie shadows in the dim light. Every rustle of leaves or snap of a twig sent a jolt of anxiety through the group as they moved carefully toward their designated positions.

You were positioned with Lori and a few other members; your nerves heightened as you scanned the surrounding area. The anticipation of an attack weighed heavily on you, each sound in the forest amplified by the tension of the situation. Lori was focused, her experience evident in her movements as she checked and rechecked her gear.

Tommy, who had stayed behind for a while, was now close enough to provide support if needed but kept their distance to avoid drawing attention. His gaze was constantly shifting, his eyes searching the darkness for any signs of movement. The worry etched into his face was evident even from a distance.

As the minutes ticked by, the silence grew more oppressive, each member of the group lost in their own thoughts and preparations. The night felt endless, the anticipation building as everyone awaited the inevitable clash.

Suddenly, the stillness was shattered by the sound of distant shouts and the unmistakable noise of raiders closing in. The group’s alertness surged into action as everyone took their positions, readying themselves for the confrontation.

“Here they come!” Lori’s voice cut through the tension, her tone commanding. “Stay sharp and keep an eye on each other!”

The raiders emerged from the darkness, their figures outlined against the low light of the moon. The confrontation was chaotic and intense, the night erupting into a flurry of movement and noise. You fought with determination; every instinct heightened as you defended your position.

Despite the chaos, you could feel the presence of your allies around you; their movements synchronized as they worked together to repel the raiders. The noise of gunfire and shouts filled the air, and you found a grim sense of focus as you engaged with the attackers.

In the midst of the chaos, Lori’s actions took a dangerous turn. Amid the melee, she made a sudden, unexpected move that shifted the dynamics of the confrontation. As you and Tommy were engaged with the raiders, Lori took it upon herself to maneuver through the fray, pushing for a more aggressive stance.

“Cover me!” Lori shouted, her voice rising above the din. “I’m going to create a diversion!”

Before anyone could fully grasp her intention, Lori threw a series of flashbangs and smoke grenades into the thick of the raiders. The sudden blinding light and thick smoke created confusion among the attackers but also disrupted your group’s coordination.

The diversion had the unintended effect of drawing the raiders' focus toward the source of the commotion. The chaos escalated quickly, with the raiders now focused on the new threat and your group struggling to maintain control.

In the disarray, Lori’s actions created an opening for a smaller group of raiders to break through the defenses. The confusion spread, and it became increasingly difficult for everyone to stay organized. As the situation grew more chaotic, some members of the group started to retreat, trying to regroup and escape from the overwhelming numbers of raiders.

Tommy, realizing the deteriorating situation, shouted, “We need to fall back! Get to the rendezvous point!”

Amid the confusion, Lori’s initial strategy had backfired. She and the others began to withdraw, but in the scramble to escape, it became evident that you were separated from the rest of the group. You fought to hold your ground, but the chaos and disorganization made it nearly impossible to regroup.

In the thick of the battle, you tried to push your way toward the retreating group, but the raiders were relentless. Despite your efforts, you found yourself isolated, with the sounds of the retreating group fading into the distance. The enemy's numbers were overwhelming, and you had to take cover behind a nearby structure, your heart racing as you tried to catch your breath.

The night seemed to stretch endlessly as you waited, your thoughts racing with worry about whether you’d be able to rejoin your group. The noise of the battle grew distant, replaced by the eerie silence of the aftermath.

When the group finally made it back to Jackson, the atmosphere was tense and somber. Tommy and Lori arrived, looking battered and exhausted. The sight of the raiders repelled, and the group’s narrow escape was overshadowed by the stark absence of you.

The patrol group trudged back into Jackson, their faces weary and their clothes stained with dirt and blood. They moved slowly, burdened by the weight of the day's events. As they passed through the gates, people began to gather, their expressions a mix of concern and curiosity.

Joel was waiting anxiously at the gate, his face etched with concern. As soon as he saw Tommy and Lori, his eyes darted around, searching for you. When he saw that you were missing, his face went pale, and a deep anger began to simmer beneath the surface.

“Where is she?” Joel demanded; his voice barely controlled. His eyes locked onto Tommy with a fierce intensity. “Where the hell is she?”

Tommy's face was grim as he approached Joel. “We lost her in the chaos. Lori tried to make a diversion, and things got out of hand. We couldn’t get back to her.”

Joel’s eyes shot to Lori; his anger palpable. “A diversion? You’re telling me you put her in danger and didn’t make sure she was safe?”

Lori’s face was flushed with exhaustion and guilt. “It was a mistake, Joel. I didn’t mean for it to get out of control. We were trying to get the raiders to focus elsewhere so we could regroup.”

Joel's fists clenched at his sides, his frustration boiling over. “A mistake? She’s out there alone because of you. How could you let this happen?”

Maria stepped in, trying to diffuse the escalating situation. “Joel, yelling at Lori isn’t going to help. We need to focus on finding her. We have to get a search party together and head back out.”

Joel took a step closer, his fists clenched at his sides. “You don’t get to make that call,” he hissed, his voice trembling with barely contained rage. “If anything happens to her,”

“She’ll be fine,” Lori cut him off, rolling her eyes. “You’re overreacting.”

Joel’s eyes were wild with panic and anger. “No, you don’t understand. She could be hurt, or worse. We need to get out there now!”

Tommy put a hand on Joel’s shoulder, trying to calm him down. “We will. But we need to be smart about it. We can’t rush in without a plan. We’ll organize a search party and go as soon as we can.”

Joel shook his head, his breathing heavy and uneven. “I don’t care about plans. I’m not waiting around while she’s out there.”

But Joel wasn’t listening. He was already turning away, his mind racing with a hundred different scenarios, each worse than the last. He needed to find you to make sure you were safe. The thought of you out there, alone and vulnerable, sent a cold shiver down his spine.

Without another word, Joel stormed off towards the gates, his heart hammering in his chest. He wasn’t going to wait around for someone else to bring you back. He would find you himself, no matter what it took.

Joel raced through the woods, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts as he searched for any sign of you. The setting sun cast long shadows over the path, and the dense trees around him made it hard to see more than a few feet ahead. But he didn’t slow down. He couldn’t. The thought of you out here alone, in danger, was enough to keep him moving, fear and adrenaline pushing him forward.

Joel refused to let himself think about the worst possibilities; he just needed to find you.

Tommy was right behind him, struggling to keep up with Joel's relentless pace. “Joel, slow down!” Tommy called out, his voice strained. “We need to do this smart. If you get hurt, we’re no good to anyone.”

Joel didn’t respond, his focus solely on finding you. He knew Tommy was right, but the fear gnawing at him made it impossible to slow down. Every minute that passed felt like an eternity, and every shadow that moved in the corner of his eye made his heart skip a beat.

After what it felt like hours of searching, Joel and Tommy came upon a clearing. The scene before them was chaotic—bodies of raiders lay scattered across the ground, the aftermath of a brutal fight. Blood stained the dirt, and the silence was eerie, broken only by the rustle of leaves in the breeze.

When Joel reached the house, the door was ajar, creaking on its hinges as the wind pushed it back and forth. His heart pounded in his chest, a mix of fear and urgency propelling him forward. He approached cautiously, his hand gripping his revolver tightly, every nerve on edge. Behind him, Tommy moved in tandem, his rifle at the ready, the two brothers moving as one unit.

Joel nudged the door open with his foot, and it swung inward with a loud creak, revealing the scene inside. The room was a disaster—furniture overturned, broken glass scattered across the floor, and the bodies of several men lying lifeless on the ground. Bloodstains marred the walls and floor, the remnants of a violent struggle.

Tommy entered behind him, his eyes sweeping the room with a practiced intensity. “Jesus,” he muttered under his breath, the carnage in front of them telling a grim story.

Joel’s heart skipped a beat as his eyes searched the room, desperately looking for you among the chaos. The fear of what he might find gnawed at him, each second feeling like an eternity.

And then he saw you.

You were slumped against the far wall, your body still and pale, but you were alive. Relief surged through him, though it was tempered by the sight of your injuries. Joel rushed to your side, his revolver slipping from his grip as he knelt down next to you, his hands shaking as he reached out to touch your face.

“Hey, hey,” he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. “I’ve got you. I’m here.” He gently touched your face, his fingers brushing against your cold skin as he checked for any serious injuries.

You blinked, your eyes struggling to focus on him. “Joel?” you murmured weakly, the sound of his name on your lips a small comfort to him.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he said softly, his voice cracking. “You’re gonna be okay, alright? Just stay with me.”

You nodded faintly, your body leaning into his touch as if you couldn’t bear to hold yourself up any longer. “They… they ambushed us,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I tried… but there were too many.”

"Did you kill them all by yourself?" Tommy asked, his voice tinged with both awe and concern as he glanced around the room, taking in the lifeless bodies scattered across the floor.

You nodded weakly, the effort it took to do so evident in the way your body sagged against Joel’s. “I didn’t have a choice,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “They were going to… I couldn’t let them…”

Joel’s heart ached as he listened to you, the weight of what you’d been through settling heavily on his shoulders. He could see the exhaustion in your eyes, the toll that the fight had taken on you, both physically and emotionally.

“You did what you had to,” Joel said, his voice steady but filled with a fierce protectiveness. “You survived, and that’s all that matters.”

“I’m sleepy, Joel,” you said, trying to close your eyes, and that’s when Joel’s breath caught in his throat. As he felt the warm, sticky blood on his hand. The sight of it. You had blood dripping from your shirt.

He pressed his hand more firmly against your wound, trying to stem the bleeding, but it was clear that you were slipping away.

Joel’s heart skipped a beat as he saw your eyelids droop, your voice growing weaker with every word. “No, no, no,” he muttered, his voice thick with panic as he gently shook you. “You have to stay awake, alright? Just keep your eyes on me.”

He quickly adjusted his grip on you, his hand moving to press against your abdomen where the blood was seeping through your clothes. The wound was worse than he had initially realized, and the sight of it made his stomach twist with fear.

“Stay with me,” he urged, his voice trembling. “I’m not losing you; you hear me?”

You tried to nod, but the pain and exhaustion were overwhelming, pulling you toward unconsciousness. “Joel… it hurts,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“I know, sunshine, I know,” he said, his heart breaking at the sight of you in so much pain.

sunshine

It took him almost to lose you to remember your words.

It took him almost to lose you to remember yours I love you.

It took him almost to lose you to realize how important you were to him.

"I'm sleepy" you whispered, almost inaudible to hear.

"No, you're not," Joel said.

"Shhh.Let me sleep, Joel. Can you carry me to bed?"

The words hit him like a punch to the gut, and he struggled to keep his composure. “I’m carrying you, okay. Every single day for the rest of my life, I’ll carry you,” he promised, his voice thick with emotion. “Baby, baby, baby,” he whispered into your hair, his tears mixing with the dirt and blood on your skin. He was terrified of how still you were in his arms, caught between life and death.

“I’ll save you like you saved me,” he vowed, his voice a desperate prayer as he held you close, willing you to stay with him, to fight, to live.

+++++++++++

I tagged everyone interested in more parts or or the ones who commented, but I couldn't tag everyone because all got mixed (again) if you don't want to be tagged you can tell me, if you want to be tagged, you can also tell me. I tried to add everyone but I don't know If I did.

💌 tags: @dreamtofus @paperstarzzz @chewie-bars @hotleaf-juice

@riedswifts @dizzyforyou @prideandaesthetic @chateaujoon

@18dmlk @orcasoul @whirlwindrider29 @frogjumps-world @camy-nyancat @sarahhxx03 @jasminedragoon @cuteanimalmama @eleganthottubfun @skysmiller @nana90azevedo @astralqueenoc

@missladym1981 @persephone-girl @darka-moon @beltzboys2015-blog @sptbear @joelsteinfeld @astralqueenoc @bishtrouille

@locaparapedrito @wolfbook87 @picketniffler @axelspin @pedrotease @riedswifts @mclibs23 @feliciab1990 @swornkisses @stupidthoughtsinwriting @kirsteng42 @lostfleurs

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ponderingmoonlight · 3 months

Note

oooo sanemi request - idea - you're training to be a new haishra and are very very very very nice to everyone, queue tragic af backstory and you believe in kindness IDK ok, cruelty made sure you kept your heart soft, but when you are FIGHTING there is nothing but darkness what happens when that trance doesn't leave you for a while & to snap out of it only sanemi is enough?

It's the tiniest bit different from what you requested, but I hope you like it anyway! Also, thank you so much for your cover suggestions 🤍

Sanemi Shinazugawa pulling you out of your trance with his own methods

Pairing: Sanemi x fem!reader

Word Count: 2k

Synopsis: What a kind and tender soul you are, loved by everyone around you. Until you get into a fight. Until the only person who is able to pull you back to reality is the wind hashira coming to safe you.

Warnings: average sanemi language, fluff fluff fluff, some spelling errors since I wasn't able to finish proofreading

„Me telling him? Are you actually insane? You’re the one Kocho-san sent”

“But you came with me. You go tell him!”

“Ain’t no way!”

“Telling me what?”

Their blood freezes in their veins instantly. Over and over, the wind hashira made it all too clear that they aren’t allowed to let you alone. Never. Not on a mission, not when there’s a high risk of you losing yourself. Because once you’re gone, there’s only one person who’s able to pull you back into reality.

“Well…(y/n)-sama…She…”

They don’t even have to finish this sentence for Sanemi to know exactly what’s going on. Are you okay? Are you facing some strong demons at the moment? His heart overfills with rage and anxiety to the point where he can’t take it anymore.

“Didn’t I tell you fools every single fucking time to look out of her? Useless brats. Show me where she is”, he hisses through gritted teeth.

It takes all his inner strength to not slam them into a tree nearby. Those fucking jerks had one job. That’s why he always insists on coming with you, because what if you lose yourself again with no way out but him? What if he’s too far away to drag you into safety in time?

“Hurry the fuck up!”

“Please don’t worry about me all the time, Sanemi. I can’t stand the thought of you being distressed because of me.”

Yeah, to hell with your angelic voice and your kind eyes. Fuck your gorgeous appearance, your uniform that makes you look like an angel walking on earth. You, a true sweetheart who is loved by everyone without any exceptions. And him, who built a wall around his heart only you were able to overcome.

But when you fight against demons, that tender self of yours vanishes into thin air. The second death and fright surround you, you turn into a serial killer who doesn’t show any mercy. Especially towards demons, but when a human comes into your way…

Sanemi picks up his pace in an instant. He can’t allow something like that to happen, he can’t stand that look of deep sorrow written on your face the second you realized what you’ve done in your trance. He just has to make sure this fight ends on time, that he’s able to pull you back into reality like he always does.

He and only him. Not even Shinobu is able to reach your mind when you lose yourself. In fact, no one but Sanemi is. Why on earth him? Out of all people you could trust this much, you somehow chose him. Oh, he definitely doesn’t deserve any of the feelings you hold for him, he doesn’t deserve you even looking his way. After all, everyone sees nothing but a menace in him with even his little brother fearing him to the core.

“(y/n)…s-sama?”

His blood freezes in an instant. There you stand with your arm buried in the chest of the demon lying to your feet and your eyes gleaming bloody red. How long did you fight already? How long has this been going on without him knowing?

“Get away from here before she rips your heads off”, the bars behind him.

You don’t speak, furious orbs now fixated on Sanemi. In the split of a second you dash towards him, ready to slice his throat open with your bare fingernails. Just in time he manages to get a hold of your wrist and push you into the ground, his whole bodyweight now lying on top of you.

“(y/n)”, he mutters softly.

A violent scream escapes your lips, limbs desperately fighting to get away from him. Oh, how much Sanemi hates to see you in that state. Shinobu was never able to find out why you turned into this when facing danger. Despite your tender and warm personality, despite your remarkable sword skills and technique, you lose control over your own mind and body when the situation around you gets too heated.

None of that matters now. Sanemi grabs your body from behind and pulls you into his lap while placing gentle kisses on your neck.

“It’s fine, (y/n). Just come back to me. Those demon are gone, got it?”

The shell of your body still fights for freedom, still doesn’t accept to be held by him.

“Come back, (y/n). I’m here. Everything’s fine.”

Is that…Sanemi talking to you? Your vision is foggy, eyes roaming around what looks like a dark forest. Your whole body is covered in ice cold sweat, your heart hammers so roughly against your ribcage that you feel like fainting any given minute.

It happened again.

“Sanemi”, you breathe his name into the night while allowing yourself to collapse against his chest.

You lost yourself again. Did you hurt someone? Why were you here? How-

“Don’t worry, you’re alright.”

“And the-“

“No one got hurt”, he reassures you in an instant.

“I…lost again”, you mumble defeated.

You’re able to control every single fiber in your body, can wield a sword so delicately that Ubayishiki-sama even chose you to join the circle of pillars. But still, you lose yourself when facing a heated fight.

“Don’t worry too much, nothing happened and I was home”, Sanemi mutters into your hair.

“Thank you for coming. And…for everything else. I’m sorry for making such a mess over and over. You must-”

“Nah, I don’t wanna hear you putting yourself down again, (y/n). You’re good, okay? I don’t mind looking after you at all, to be honest.”

You don’t know what came over you. Is it the anger, the frustration over your own disability? You can’t help but swing around, arms wrapped around Sanemi’s larger frame while you allow your head to rest against his steady heartbeat.

“It’s just so frustrating. From one second to the other, I lose the power over my own body. If it wasn’t for you, who know what I’d do to innocent people around. I’m a weapon, Sanemi. To even be considered a hashira-“

“Stop talking nonsense”, he interrupts you gently, his hand pulling your chin up to force you to look at him.

“You’re wiping the floor with our asses in training. Most of us hashira can’t stand a chance against you. You are pure and kind, loved by everyone. We don’t give a single shit about that happening from time to time. And like I said, I’m always here to pull you back into reality.”

“You’re my greatest treasure, Sanemi”, you mutter.

Tears immediately shoot in your eyes, take away that gorgeous sight in front of you. Truth is, you love Sanemi Shinazugawa with all your heart. Since he first barked at you, since you sat underneath a tree the whole night and talked about all the things both of you been through, since he put you out of your episode for the first time. Oh, how much you adore that man.

“Don’t talk nonsense, (y/n). I’m worse than everyone else.”

His heart stings violently when nothing but the truth leaves his mouth. He doesn’t deserve your praise, let alone your glossy orbs staring up at him. Fuck, he shouldn’t even put his arms around you like that. Not when you’re an angel while he’s a no one. Not when you could have anybody else, a man who deserves your kind words, to see your lovely figure every morning after waking up.

“I don’t care about others. You’re the one that I love, Sanemi. Because you make me feel good about myself, because you bring me back to reality when I can’t return on my own. You’re rough, you’re suborn and you can be kind of mean-“

“Only because some of these jerks deserve it”, he grumbles.

“But apart from that, you are a kind and loving man. I can’t help but search for you in a crowd of people, I am forced to ask myself every time what you’d do in my place. You’re constantly on my mind. Your words, your skills, your voice. Just…you. I can’t get enough of you.”

“Stop making fun of me…”

Fuck, he can feel his face heating up in an instant. This can’t be true, right? Why would a girl like you fall for someone like him? Maybe you’re still a little dizzy and can’t understand the meaning of your words, maybe-

“I’d never make fun of you.”

And then your lips meet his. So unexpectedly that his widen eyes stare at your soft features in utter disbelief, so innocently that he can’t help but wonder if he’s dreaming. You, kissing him?

“You’re gonna regret this when you’re clear again, (y/n)”, Sanemi mumbles against your lips.

“Look into my eyes. I am clear, Sanemi. In fact, I’ve never been clearer in my entire life. I love you.”

You kiss him. Over and over, your soft lips brush against yours while he can’t help but wrap his arms around you in a desperate attempt to keep you this close. His heart pounds so loud that you’re definitely able to her it, his fingertips get lost in your hair.

“I love you too, (y/n). Fuck, I love you so much”, he finally replies.

“I’m so lucky for having you.”

“You, lucky to have me? Hell, I’m the luckiest guy on earth”, Sanemi grumbles with his hand gently caressing your cheek.

This is real. Not a cruel trick his spooky brain plays on him, not one of the dreams that keep him up all night wanting more. No, your head really rests against his chest, you really have your arms wrapped around his body still, you really kissed him.

“No wonder it took you so long to come back, Shinazugawa. I didn’t know you were busy with (y/n).”

Sanemi’s heart drops to the floor, both of your head darting towards the direction of that painfully familiar voice in an instant.

“What the hell are you doing here?”, he barks at Obanai in distress.

“Everyone was worried about (y/n) so I came to check”, Obanai replies dryly.

“Oh, thank you so much for looking out for me! But don’t worry, I am fine!”

“Yeah, I can see that.”

“GET LOST OR I’LL KILL YOU!”

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls (your fic will be next) @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp

@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine

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ajortga · 4 months

Text

just too late

pairing: tara carpenter x fem!reader

summary: where tara can't help but regret the outcome of her consequences, she was just too late. how can a heart love if it is no longer beating?

warnings: massive angst, death, stabbing, blood

word count: 3.5k+

a/n: based of a request i got on wp! honestly, i wrote this months ago and got to the end, but their request was so similar that i redid it. posting a small second part soon<3 also omg, thank you for 500 followers!

You had just visited Tara, a bouquet of roses in one hand as you knocked on the door. You had seen them when walking to her apartment and you knew that they were just perfect for her. You had to get them. As you heard the lock of the door click, Tara opened the door. She peeked out and saw you, smiling shyly. You thought she'd smile back, but instead her smile dropped.

That had never happened before.

"Y/N, we need to talk.

You knew something was wrong, something bad was going to happen. Your breath got stuck in your throat as she stepped aside to let you in. You knew the next thing that would happen would not be good.

fast forward 20 minutes

You stood there in Tara's apartment, Sam eyeing you with a penetrating death glare. You felt like sinking into the floor right there and then. You hated this kind of silence.

Sam broke the quietness, her gaze stern, "Y/N, this isn't going to work out between you and Tara." She states, crossing her legs as she sighs, "All of it just adds up."

You shake your head, but before you can retaliate, Sam speaks again.

"You know it too. You started dating my sister two weeks prior before the first ghostface attack. The police found your necklace right next to the victim, covered in blood. I can't trust you and have you near my sister. All of us," she states, twirling her finger in a circle, "Are in danger and I can't let my baby sister get hurt again. None of us trust you, not Mindy, not Chad, and definitely not me. You are going to stay away from her, no more coming over or seeing each other at school. Do I make myself clear?"

"You believe a piece of evidence that barely proves anything? They didn't even find my DNA anywhere!"

"Gloves."

You felt rage crawling its way out, you couldn't believe your girlfriend's sister would think you're the killer. Sam knows all too well how much Tara loves you. "You know I wouldn't hurt you! Least of all Tara! I love her with my whole heart and I would never even think of that! I-I don't know how my necklace got there, someone framed me!" You turned to Tara, blinking away tears that stung your eyes, "Tar.. You believe me right? Please tell her. I didn't do anything! Please don't leave me."

"Please.." you begged. You saw the way her gaze slightly cracked, you knew she didn't believe you. You could feel it, you wouldn't care for fucks sake if Mindy, Chad, or Sam didn't believe you. But Tara was different. It felt like a swing to the heart, it hurt so much. It felt heavy.

Tara didn't do anything but give you a hurt look, staring down at her fingers. You expect her to throw her arms around you, tell you that they all got it wrong and you can both live happily ever after in the end. Yet she doesn't.

"I'm sorry Y/N," she forces her shattered voice in her normal tone, swallowing a cry clawing to come out, "I don't trust you anymore, I don't love you. I-I never did. I just.. Don't think you should visit anymore. We're done."

You felt like your whole heart shattered at that moment as you heard her last two words. You looked at her as you sobbed in your hands. Hurt, mournful, betrayed.

All that Tara said was, "You need to get out please," her eyes pink and glossy.

"You don't understand Tara, please I'm begging you-"

"Y/N, I'm not going to say it twi- It's n-not me Tara!" you say, this point a small cry escaping you. The way Tara looks at you is wild.

Your girlfriend's voice raised, with a fury, she wasn't going to say it again, "Get the hell out! Do you need me to say i-it twice? I don't fucking love you! I don't want to see your face again!"

You flinched, you never felt more heartbroken in your life. Your heart hurt, it felt like someone had smashed it with a hammer. Tears that threatened to fall down were now dropping on the floor. All the moments you've spent together were now thrown away, stomped on. You felt your body shaking as you toss the flowers, leaving them to fall on the floor with a thud.

You simply nod, slowly.

"Fine." You say, more flat than ever, turning to leave as you feel the petals get stepped on by your shoe.

All you wanted was to brighten your girlfriend's day, entering with flowers in your hand and just wanting to cuddle her all day long. Yet, here you are, your girlfriend now turning into you ex, flowers dead, no cuddles, no more trust.

Tara felt horrible, the guilt eating her alive. All of her words were lies, she just knew that if you were to separate from her, she would keep you safe. You wouldn't be the target for ghostface if he thought you were just a normal person in Woodsboro. You would be safe. She tried to assure herself that as you slammed the door.

Her eyes met the squished flower that escaped from the bouquet on the floor and she wondered if she'd ever get flowers from you again after everything.

You stared at the picture frame placed on the counter of you and Tara together hugging with matching clothes, you choked on your sobs. Tara nor your friend group had chatted with you since then. Sam had blocked you on social media. At least your other friends had came along and checked up on you to make sure you were okay. Tara had sent a few messages, saying she was sorry that things had ended up like this, but to realize you blocked her.

You couldn't function properly, your eyes were dry with the amount of tears you released in the past week.

It's not your fault, you tried to assure yourself. You weren't ghostface. You can't believe the person you trusted most didn't even put her trust in you.

Maybe it all is your fault. Maybe if you were different, in personality, how much the core 4 really liked you, you wouldn't be here, crying like those teens in the movies that just feast on a gallon of ice cream. It makes you cry a little harder while you hug your teddy bear.

Especially the taunting memory of Tara screaming at you, tears blurring your vision as you stumbled back out of her apartment. Sam's eyes softening just a little bit, not meaning for this to happen. Yet you didn't even try looking into her eyes, too caught up with your own feelings to feel her sorrow.

The past few days, you've locked yourself up, abandoned school. Ignored the core 4, blocked Tara and the other three.

Your mind wandered, you were clouded in your own thoughts as you sobbed angry and hurtful tears. You cried to the point where tears stopped falling, and you were left with feeling nothing and your body feeling sore. Your breathing was still heavy, you let out heavy shaky breaths, but they started to cool down.

You closed your eyes, focusing on your breathing, until you heard your phone buzz from the ground. You picked it up, there was a message.

A part of you expected your friends to check up on you, since that's what they've been doing every since you've stopped going to school. Instead, you were met with a picture from unknown of the abandoned movie theater not too far from here. There, you saw the camera facing a knife pointing towards Tara and Sam, threatening, daring.

Your eyes widened, as you immediately take your keys and bust out the door, grabbing a small knife, maybe you'll need it, unblocking Tara and calling her and all of those you knew must be in there. They're in danger.

Each call leads to voicemail, from both Tara and Sam, you search up their location. The only one shared for you is Tara's. You almost smash it to the front of your phone holder, locating where they are at.

As much as you hurt, you knew that you would never heal knowing that someone you loved was at risk. The car engine roars to life as you head for the theater.

With each texts and call ignored, you get paranoid, worried sick. Stepping on the accelerator of the car, your car turns a corner and is out of sight.

"She fell for it, she's coming your way," a taunting voice rasps into their phone, Ghostface.

"Our plan is just setting into action."

Carefully, you slip into the door of the run down theater. You hear clatters, and immediately you freeze, hiding a corner and peeking out. Tara's scream echoes through the theater, your eyes widen and you look around, for something sharp.

This is a stupid shrine committed to ghostface, you realize. It makes it a little better, at least you're guaranteed a knife to defend and fight with?

You sweep a corner, the room your in is silent, and you creek down the floor board, being greeted with glass display cases.

You're not good with blood, yet there's evidence from ghostface's mark years ago. TV's, a knife laced in the red crimson color. A gag almost leaves your lips, yet you open the display case and your hands grasp around a cool metal. It's a knife alright, not too sharp if you were to drop it you wouldn't cut your whole toe off. Yet it's do-able.

"Tara?" your voice echoes, walking around and exploring, you're frantic. You keep hearing her voice mail ring through your ears and your worry increases.

You thought the room you were in was obsessive with ghostface, yet when you go into the middle of this shrine, it's filled with obsessive things. Masks, robes, knives, even the TV that Stu Macher was killed by. A shiver escapes you.

You look up, and you see the chaos going, glass shattered on the floor, action buzzing around. You see Tara.

"Tara!" You shout, trying to keep your voice low, your eyes meeting the ladder that goes up, you climb on it, grunting in effort. You climb, climb, climb, climb, until you reach the top.

Tara is with Sam, they're talking about their plan, they're a couple hundred feet away from you. The sister's clothes are smothered in blood, Sam's arm has a wound, and you feel sick seeing the blood seeping from your girlfriend's clothes.

Your about to say her name, until you see a shadow emerge. It's not any that you know, this one is dark, tall, more man-like.

It's not until you see the tilt of their head the sliver of light reflecting off their mask. Ghost face.

You don't know what gotten into you from the adrenaline from the moment, but your legs begin to run, move, nothing sounds more fitting than slow motion. His knife lifts from his chest, the sharp metal edge glistening.

You try to scream, the words bubble up in your throat, comes out in a dry cough.

Your legs feel like jelly, run faster, damnit.

They can't see him, he's behind them, tucked just 2 feet away in a corner, yet you see him. You can save Tara and her older sister, you can save the both of them, you have time.

You can save the both of them, your love outplays your brain. It's telling you to stop, you're going to get killed. But your heart overwhelms it, beating quicker, with each beat all you can hear is

Tara

Save

Her!

Tara

You

Have

Time.

The knife ghostface is holding gets brought down.

"Tara!" You finally scream, it comes out as a desperate cry as you lunge towards her. Her eyes turn from the setting below her to you, confusion, then shock as your hands shove her shoulders. The strength you built up finally goes to use, pushing her out of harms way, she shoves into Sam, as they both stumble back.

You hear them both say your name, confusion at first, before the second time they holler it out. It's a scream, yet it dies down in your ears, feeling the cool metal of the blade slam into your shoulder. The ring from Tara's screams fade, replaced with the blood pulsing in your ears. The pain, the sharp knife sinking into the flesh of your shoulder. All you can do is let out a soft cry, too tired to scream.

Your eyes water, looking up at ghostface, the ugly mask boring into your eyes. He tilts his head, shocked for a moment. Until he tilts his head back again, like the target he hit is even better than what he wanted. They didn't expect you so soon.

The knife tears out from your flesh, a sob leaves your throat, kicking and flaring your arms.

"Y/N!" Tara screams your name, this one you can hear. She's crying, sobbing, wailing. Begging for her older sister to let her go and save you.

Sam shushes her, all they can do is watch. All Tara can do is watch you suffer.

His knife slams into you again, your abdomen. You hear a disgusting squelch as it goes in. The pain is unbearable, this stab hurts even more than anything you can think about. You thought the 4 foot thorn going through your foot was bad. You cry, grabbing the knife that's tucked into your pocket and slam it against the black coat, right where the neck meets the shoulder.

A raspy whisper escapes your lips, "F-fuck you." You snarl.

You barely hear him grunt. Yet he doesn't back down, in fact, you hear the disgusting squelch again.

And again.

The pain lessens. You know why. You're dying.

You can't hear it anymore, but there are now several stabs on your abdomen. You collapse, blood seeping through your clothes, your hands, your face. It's warm, dark red, spreading. It oozes out of your wounds, and the squelching sounds are gone. Your eyes flutter, seeing the flurry of the white masked figure leaving you to rot. Your body collapses to the floor with a loud crash.

You saved Tara, you would die before he could ever kill her. Before she could ever die. If Tara died, you'd kill yourself, or you'd die quicker from a broken heart.

Sam's yelling, kicking ghostface as he lets go of you, you can barely see her bringing him down to the bottom floor, both of them collapsing off the second story.

Your eyes begin to close, your breath comes in short heaves and wheezes.

And then, you see her, barely, through your weak vision.

It's blurry at first, but you know it's Tara, who else would look so good with blood all over her face?

She presses her body down to you, her warmth barely seeping through, your body is colder. Those warm, soft eyes are wide, looking so scared, hands pressing down deeper to your stomach, trying to stop the bleeding.

"Fuck, no. Nononono.. Why the hell would you do that?" She yells at you, shaking your body, you whimper.

You barely respond, croak her name out, cough out blood.

She's crying, you realize, she's choking on sobs as she cradles you, lifting your body up to her chest. She smells like your favorite scent, sweet.. light.. vanilla.. So lovely.

You just want to be in her arms forever. Let her sweetness soothe the pain.

"Y/N," she sobs, seeing the way you're struggling to stay conscious, you're only holding on because she's there. She can tell the way your eyes are slowly glassing over, your vision is twitching, blurring, un-focusing.

Don't cry, you want to tell her, even though you know you're here, dying in your girlfriend's arms. But you're too weak to speak, instead, let a slurred murmur leave you. Her hand is clinging to yours, like if she were to let go you would immediately fall away.

"It's okay baby," Tara sniffs, clinging to you. Like if she lets go you'll shatter, "I'm here, help will come soon. Stay with me. Eyes on me baby."

You look at her, your girlfriend, being in her arms. She has a small wound, around her arm to her shoulder, yet it's barely bleeding. Being here, in her arms. It's your favorite thing ever, you've done it so many times to feel her warmth. You never thought you would not be in Tara's arms at night with you buried against her.

Yet you know it's your last time you'll be in them. You can barely feel the warmth she's trying to transfer to you, you're freezing. She senses it too, the way she's hugging you tighter. Pleading you to stay here, with her. The brunette squeezes your hand, distracts you from the pain that's already leaving. Along with your pulse.

"I'm so fucking sorry," she sobs, "I love you so much, you don't fucking understand," she wails. Pulls you closer to her, "I should have never left you, you mean the world to me, I never meant what I said. I t-thought I could protect you if ghostface knew that you were no longer in our circle."

You wheeze, your eyes never looking away from hers. She notices, how you're studying her, like the moment you don't, you'll forget how she looks like in heaven.

Freckles, doe-shaped crying eyes. You lift her hand to your chest, let her feel your heart, to let her know that your giving her your heart, your love. You don't want her to forget about you.

You don't want to die.

Yet if you don't want her to die, you'll die before she could ever.

Tara's still sobbing, ripping her shirt and tying it against your stomach, the blood seeps through, she tightens it. Looks worriedly down at you.

Ugly shapes of swiggles and dots cloud, you see random shapes flying. Try to focus on Tara.

Sirens ring in the distance, Tara looks back, yet immediately looks back at you. A tear falls from her stained mascara cheeks, down your shirt. Weakly, you bring it up and wipe her cheeks. Assure her it'll be okay. Yet she knows it's not. They're just too fucking late.

You saved her. That's all that matters now.

"It's all my fault, I'm so sorry my love. I never meant to hurt you. I never thought it would end so soon. I don't want you to die."

You swallow, blood slightly gurgles through your throat, use your dying strength to speak, "I'm h-here." You croak, "T-tara."

"I love you so much," you slur, hiccupping on a cry. Trace the matching necklace she gifted the two of you years past on her neck. You're wearing it too. Hers was silver, yours was gold. A silver and golden dove.

The blood loss is too much, you can barely speak. But she's here with you, in your last moments. You're able to have a goodbye you might not have had. She might not be ready, but you almost are.

Time wasn't in your favor. It really wasn't.

This isn't goodbye this is a simply see you later.

She's okay, knowing that makes you feel a little more okay. A little more okay and soothe the worries.

Tara plays with your necklace. A proper goodbye. Her eyes glisten with tears, and she leans down, presses her lips to yours. You kiss her, knowing it'll be the one you'll live to feel. Then you slump back down on the concrete. You don't care about anyone but her anymore. Sirens holler, people bust into the theater, and you look up at her, taking off her necklace and putting it into the palm of her hand.

"I w-want you to promise me one thing."

She sniffles, tears wont stop anytime soon, keeps tying cloth around your deep wounds. It's no use. She nods, "Y-yeah?"

"Promise me y-you won't forget me. E-even when you find someone you love, maybe even more than me. You won't t-throw.." You pause, coughing, "T-throw our memories away. Promise me that. That when your h-hands hold theirs, you realize that mine was once warmer. When you're by yourself on F-Friday nights, you'll remember that you used to come to mine and cuddle m-me." You hiccup, losing your train of thought, blinking, your words are barely audible, yet Tara can still make them out.

"...When you look at the stars on the grassy meadow, you'll remember that that's the spot we always w-went to to get our thoughts out of things," you barely giggle, it hurts your stomach. "A-and, when you look at all my pictures, or maybe one day I won't pass your mind for once, you'll be ready to let me go. The thought of me still being here. Y-you'll be able to love, even though I might still scar your heart."

She sniffles, seeing the way you begin to struggle on your words, they grow quieter.

"But I won't let that happen, I don't want your h-heart t-to scar," You place her hand on your chest again, "You can have mine."

Tara swallows her tears, still, they drop.

"I love you, Y/N," she sniffles, it's the same word from every other time you both said you loved each other. Yet this time, it's so fucking different. It's the last time you'll ever hear her say it to you while you're still hear. "I'll never love anyone more than I loved you."

"I love you too, Tara," you whisper. It's the last time she'll ever hear it from you. A small, weak smile cracks on your face as she leans down one more time, kisses you softly, taking the last breath from your lips.

And it's time to go. Your chest stills.

And for the last time, she hears your heart beat one more time.

A heart that once beat for her was gone.

#jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega imagine #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x reader #vada cavell x reader #jenna ortega x y/n #vada cavell x y/n #tara carpenter x y/n #tara carpenter x female reader

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ithebookhoarder · 7 months

Note

If your still taking requests could u pls do “if you were taken by an unsub” criminal minds imagin? Or smth along those lines, if not that’s fine tho

~ ☘️

(BAU Headcanons) If you were taken by an Unsub

A/N: Um, of course you can?! Thanks for sending this one in angel 😇 I'm only sorry it's taken me this long to answer this. Hope you like it!

Warnings: Usual Criminal Minds references to criminals, murder, violence etc. Mentions of mental health. (Let me know if I missed any)

Aaron Hotchner

If you were taken? This man would not rest until you were back and safe with him - and not just because of what happened to Haley (though it doesn’t help).

He would bark orders at everyone in a cold and blunt manner that tells them he is not in the mood to be messed with.

They will do as they are told and they will do it now.

This poor man would be fighting not to let his fear show but he'd be seen clenching his fists over and over and taking long deep breaths in front of the mirror in the bathroom in an attempt to ground himself and get his head on straight.

He's no good to you if he lets himself fall apart. His team - and more importantly, you - are counting on him.

You know he’s blaming himself and you’re both going to need therapy once this whole experience is over with.

He would go into his hyper-rational mode, focusing on making plans and ignoring anything that isn’t getting you back safe and sound - which means no sleep. None. He’s running on fumes and caffeine - even after you’re found.

It would take days for him to feel secure enough to close his eyes and be able to trust you’ll still be there when he opens them again.

Also you best believe he is breaking out his old law text books and ensuring this UnSub goes down for a lonnnnnng time… if they even make it to trial that is. This man is a trained sniper and knows other trained snipers… just saying…

David Rossi

He may like to remind you all of his passionate Italian nature from time to time but it’s impossible to miss when he hears what’s happened to you. He’s an emotional mess, staggering between horror and rage to a frighteningly cold determination that is rare for the eldest team member.

He’d try to act in control, pulling rank on everyone - including Hotch, which obviously doesn’t work.

“No offence, Aaron, but I was chasing down Unsubs when you were still in diapers. I know what I’m doing.”

However, they know him well enough to see that despite having years of experience under his belt, Rossi is terrified of making some kind of mistake.

Once they do find you, he’d be one of the first through the door, too concerned with checking you’re ok to worry about anything else.

He’d also be sure to pay for the best medical care money could buy, if you needed it following the ordeal.

He also knows people and has no problem paying for you to see a counsellor of some sort if the situation required it. He just wants to take care of you now that you’re back in his arms again.

Derek Morgan

This man is like a whole military unit in himself at the best of times, but he’s a whole other level of lethal when it comes to protecting the ones he loves. You do NOT want to be on the wrong side of Morgan, and that’s exactly where the Unsub who took you would sit.

There isn’t a door he wouldn’t be willing to kick down to get you - and everybody knows better than to say a word about it. (Hotch is already mentally filling out all the paperwork he’s going to need once this rescue is done, but he doesn’t exactly mind, given the situation).

Also, Morgan may have trained you himself, drilling you in self-defence and marksmanship so you’d known how to protect yourself out there in the field, but none of that matters now. You may have the Unsub at your mercy already, or you may be at theirs, but he doesn’t know and that’s what’s killing him: the not knowing.

It’s why Penelope is basically glued to his side the whole entire time, telling him everything she finds out the very second she finds it.

“We’ll find them sugar, I promise. They’re just as tough and strong as you are, so don’t give up on them, ok?”

He’d be leading the pack once you are found though, tearing through anyone and anything that stood in his way. All he cares about is seeing you with his own eyes and getting you as far away from danger as possible.

“I’m so sorry, baby. It’s my job to keep you safe and I failed you.”

He’d be beating himself up for weeks after and it would take an entire team intervention to get him to let you go back out into the field again without him being glued to your side. After all, he’s not making the same mistake twice. Any Unsub wants that wants to get close to you will have to get past him first.

Emily Prentiss

This woman is a super spy and a lethal weapon on an average day but if you were taken? Then she would be the most dangerous woman in the entire United States.

She knows people in every agency and on every continent so you best believe she will be calling in favours left, right and centre. (Even Rossi is terrified by how quickly she was able to get the Pentagon on the phone…)

She would also be action-focused, needing to do something rather than sitting around wasting time. Every minute spent talking was one more minute the Unsub had to hurt you - and that thought makes her feel physically sick.

This would end up causing her to explode, taking it out on whichever unfortunate soul is closest. Like, you know she would definitely have to be reminded by Hotch that they actually need the local law enforcement to work with them, if they want to get you back alive, after she is seen screaming at an unfortunate officer for their ‘utter stupidity’.

Thankfully, she gets to turn that rage on the Unsub after they find you. I mean, let’s be real. It would take Morgan physically holding her back to stop her from beating their face in.

This frustration would ultimately then be transferred to you, once she knows you’re safe.

You almost can quote her ‘You almost died’ speech by this point, but you know it makes you both feel better to hear it so you let her rant and rant until she’s calm enough to crawl into your arms and squeeze you close.

“I love you so much. I can’t lose you.”

You’re also pretty sure she now has people following you at all times, watching over you when she can’t, so that this never happens again.

JJ is every bit as lethal as Emily is when those she loves are at risk. If anything, she’s more terrifying because she’ll hide that murderous rage behind a ‘butter-wouldn’t-melt’ smile before deciding to strike.

However, it would take everything in her not to just charge in and go on the offensive. After all, she was willing to run into a bank full of armed robbers after Will.

It would probably end up with the team having to physically holding her back to stop her - usually accompanied by a well meaning pep talk about how she needs to get her head on straight if she actually wants to help get you back.

You know this woman would follow you everywhere afterwards, never letting you out of her sight. In fact, she hits ‘super Mom mode’ where she is constantly fussing over you and seems to have the world in her go-bag.

You need tissues, pain-killers, chocolate: she got it.

“Hey, it’s ok. You know I’ve got your back, right? I won’t let anything else happen to you. You’re safe now.”

She would also call you out on all your BS, if you tried to downplay what happened to you or if you were still affected.

One twitch of her eyebrow is all it takes for her to have you pinned to your chair and spilling your guts about your emotions. You know better than to make her ask twice. After all, she may be the first to downplay it when she’s hurting but when it comes to her team and her family, she’d do anything to take care of you. If that’s driving your ass to therapy or just holding you, she’ll do it without complaint.

Penelope Garcia

Would immediately panic as soon as she hears what’s happened to you. Like, we’re talking SO much panic.

Poor girl is spiralling and needs the team to help ground her so she can get back to the lair and do her thing. It would probably be down to Morgan or like JJ to get her to actually remember to breathe and not make herself pass out.

But once she’s up and running? Well, she’d be all over the Unsub like a bad rash. Every teeny tiny detail of their life is suddenly unearthed and splashed on the

board for everyone to see. (No one dares ask how she found certain items, but knowing her history with the dark web it’s probably for the best).

Also, she would be begging for constant updates once the team is out in the field. Any other day, it would drive the team insane to have a constant running Penelope monologue in their ears, but they’re surprisingly tolerant in this case.

“Guys, do you see them? Are they ok? What’s going on? I need to know people! I have no eyes here!”

Would be all over you once you’re safe and insists on installing tracking software on everything. She wants a digital link to you, 24/7 so that this NEVER happens again. It’s simultaneously flattering and slightly terrifying how much power this angel has at the end of her glittery, manicured fingers.

Dr Spencer Reid

Depending on which season-Reid you’re with when you’re taken, you would have a distraught super genius who makes it his life’s mission to get you back. Or, you’d have a prison-hardened super genius with a slightly grey-er view of the world on a mission to find you.

Either way, there’s probably no one you’d want more to be in charge of locating and rescuing you.

Like Hotch, I feel he would become obsessed with nothing other than finding you. He wouldn’t eat. He wouldn’t sleep. Hell, no one on the team has even seen him leave the briefing room long enough to go pee, let alone take a break. This results in the team all taking it in turns to be parental figures and coax (and eventually threaten) him into pausing long enough to down a glass of water and eat some snack bar.

Between Morgan’s physical threats, JJ’s guilt-trips, and Hotch threatening to bench him from this case, they’d eventually succeed.

“You guys don’t get it. They need me. I have to figure this out - they’re counting on me. I can’t fail them. I won’t. So either help me or get out of here and let me think.”

We all know he would probably harass any medical professionals charged with caring for you, once you’re back. He doesn’t trust them - especially when it comes to your welfare.

He’d also confine you to the couch and force you to rest, queueing up endless re-runs of Doctor Who and whatever shows you find most comforting to have playing in the background. It’s selfishly what he needs too, being able to sit and hold you long enough to quell any fears he may have about you and your wellbeing. You’re here and you’re real and you’re safe.

Masterlist

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calicoheartz · 4 months

Note

Caitlin x fem!reader fic based on:

jealousy, jealousy - Olivia Rodrigo 👀

The reader is jealous because Caitlin and her teammates get along really well, and people start shipping CC and Kate Martin. But then people also start claiming that they've seen CC and Kate kiss after a game. Angst and fluff, please?🥹

-🦢

Jealousy, Jealousy ; Caitlin Clark

꣑୧ — summary | basically the prompt !

wc ; 889

— warnings | angst (lots of it) mature themes , jealousy , reader is fem!

my master list ㇀♡

a/n : I absolutely love writing fics based on songs! Thank u so much anon 🎀 enjoy besties! ◡̈

The gymnasium buzzed with energy, the familiar sound of basketball shoes squeaking against the polished floor mingling with the cheers of the crowd. Cait, with her fiery determination and lightning-fast moves, commanded the court, effortlessly leading her team to victory. But amidst the celebration, an uneasy feeling gnawed at the back of your mind.

As you watched Caitlin interact with her teammates, laughter flowing freely between them, you couldn't shake the feeling of insecurity creeping into your heart. They seemed so close, so comfortable with each other, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy at the thought of anyone else sharing Caitlin's attention.

Caitlin's easy and close friendship with her teammates grated against your insecurities like sandpaper on skin, not because you didn’t specifically like it, but you felt like there was something more going on. They shared inside jokes, traded playful banter, and seemed to have an unspoken bond that left you feeling like an outsider looking in. You tried to brush off the feeling, to convince yourself that it was just your own jealousy interfering, but the doubt lingered and followed you like a shadow.

Every photo you saw, ever headline you read, only reiterated the intense thoughts harboring in the back of your mind, that you would and will never be enough for Caitlin.

❝ Got a pretty face, a pretty ‘girlfriend’ too

I wanna be you so bad, and I don't even know you ❞

As the whispers grew louder, fueled by the relentless speculation of the media, your anxiety reached a breaking point. People started shipping Caitlin with Kate Martin, her fellow star player, and the rumors only escalated from there. It seemed like every headline painted a picture of their supposed romance, their chemistry on and off the court sparking a wildfire of speculation.

You tried to ignore it, to bury your doubts beneath a facade of indifference, but the cracks were starting to show. And then came the final blow – whispers of a kiss shared between Caitlin and Kate after a game, a betrayal etched in the shadows of the locker room.

The news hit you like a sucker punch to the gut, stealing the breath from your lungs and leaving you reeling in its wake. You wanted to believe that it was all a misunderstanding, that there was a logical explanation for what people claimed to have seen, but the doubt festered like an open wound.

Confrontation became inevitable, a storm gathering on the horizon with no hope of reprieve. You found Caitlin in the locker room, her laughter ringing hollow in your ears as you approached, the weight of your words heavy on your tongue.

"What's wrong?" she asked, concern etched into every line of her face.

You tried to speak, to voice the turmoil raging inside you, but the words caught in your throat like shards of glass. Caitlin's brow furrowed in confusion, her gaze searching yours for answers you couldn't bring yourself to give.

And then it all spilled out in a torrent of emotion, your fears and insecurities pouring forth like a flood. You accused her of betrayal, of choosing her teammates over you, of breaking your trust in the cruelest of ways. The words hung in the air, a bitter taste lingering on your tongue as you waited for her response.

Caitlin's expression shifted from confusion to shock, her eyes widening in disbelief as the weight of your accusations settled between you like a chasm too vast to bridge. For a moment, there was only silence, the air thick with tension as you both grappled with the wreckage of your relationship.

And then she spoke, her voice barely a whisper against the roar of your emotions. She denied the rumors, swore on everything she held dear that there was nothing between her and Kate, that she would never betray your trust in such a way.

But the damage was done, the fracture in your relationship too deep to repair with mere words. You turned away, the weight of your doubts heavy on your shoulders as you walked away from the wreckage of what once was, the echoes of Caitlin's voice fading into the distance like a distant memory of love lost.

She chases after you, grabbing ahold of your arm before quickly saying, "Hey, look at me," she said, her voice soft but firm. "Those rumors, they're just that – rumors. Kate and I are just friends, nothing more. And as for what people claim to have seen... it's all lies, I swear."

You searched her eyes, seeking the truth in their depths, and found nothing but sincerity staring back at you. A weight lifted from your shoulders, the knot of tension in your chest slowly unraveling as you allowed yourself to believe her.

Your eyes glued to the floor as you try to resonate with her, to try and find it in you to move past these allegations, to allow yourself to freely love your girlfriend with the pressures from the media or society seemingly trying to tear you apart.

Your eyes glaze as you mumble out a simple, “thank you, for that- I believe you.”, after hearing this, the brunette wrapped her strong arms around you, intertwining her hands with yours as you exit the arena, making sure to prioritize communication in the future.

i feel like it’s been forever since I’ve written angst so this was very much needed !! tysm for reading 💌

#wlw #wcbb #wlw imagine #wcbb x reader #my hcs #headcannons #caitlin clark #caitlin clark x reader #caitmylove #indiana #indiana fever #wnba basketball #wnba #iowa women’s basketball #iowa hawkeyes #iowa wbb #kate martin #angst with a happy ending #angst

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suuuupernovaaa · 1 year

Text

zup

zup [z·up̚] vin. fall

Anonymous Request: Can I request a fic of Neteyam and the reader getting into a fight and avoiding each other for a couple days, only for the reader to get into a pretty bad accident?

Neteyam is running so fast, he doesn’t feel the ground beneath his feet. His hair whips painfully at his cheeks, but he doesn’t notice. He hears his sister shouting after him, but it only barely registers.

He has one singular thought. One driving motivation. You. Getting to you. Making sure you’re okay. Apologizing for even momentarily acting as if his world does not revolve around you.

He prays he isn’t too late.

2 Days Before the Accident

"You think that I told Ma'rek that I want to be his mate?"

Your mother hangs open, your chin pointed downwards, and you widen your eyes at Neteyam, who stands before you, furious.

"I heard you say it!"

Leaning back, you cross your arms across your chest and scowl at him. "Tell me what you heard, then."

Neteyam crosses his arms, mirroring you, and scowls back. "You told Ma'rek he would make a fine mate, that you'd be honored to have him."

You throw your hands in the air. "You idiot! Ma'rek was just rejected again, I was just trying to make him feel better. I don't actually want to be his mate."

"Well, he's going around telling everyone that you do!"

The rage that rises in your chest is overwhelming, just for a moment. This is what you get for being kind, you get someone lying about you and the man you actually want to mate with believing it.

"If you think that's true, Neteyam, then I don't think we know each other as well as we thought."

He takes a step back, his arms falling down to his side, and his glare does not ease up.

"Maybe not."

You turn, and take off before he can see you cry.

Just Before the Accident

Your all-consuming, painful, burning hot rage has simmered down into mere annoyance, and been mostly overtaken by overwhelming sadness.

It's hard to believe that Neteyam would believe you could have eyes for anyone but him. You have spent your lives together, you have only ever loved one man, and you've told him as much.

You're starting to wonder if maybe, Neteyam doesn't care for you like he thought. Maybe this thing with Ma'rek was just an excuse for him to get out of your courtship, to mate with someone else. Possibly, he's grown tired of you and didn't know how to say it.

After all, he hasn't asked you to be his, not formally. A kiss here and a tight grasp on your hand there hardly indicates a lifelong commitment, and what is he waiting for, anyway? You're nearly 22 years old now. Why not commit or move on?

He hasn't spoken to you since the fight, and even though most of you hopes you will come through this, part of you thinks this could be the end.

You are distracted with these thoughts as you hunt, and it takes just one misstep for you to tumble off of the tree branch you're racing down.

Your body slams into the tree branch below, and all of the air is forced out of your body in a painful huff. The knife you held in your hand cuts you, right in your abdomen, and you roll off of that branch onto the next, and then onto the ground.

With the final fall, you hear a sickening crack, and there is a searing pain in your arm.

"Y/N!" your hunting partner screams from above, but you are fading already. She scarcely has time to reach you before you are gone.

After the Accident

Inside of his, her hand looks so small and delicate. There are scrapes on the back of her hand, and he turns it over to look at her palm. It's dirty, he notices, so he picks up a nearby cloth and gently removes the dirt.

Looking over her - she's dirty everywhere. Though her broken arm and wide gash on her stomach have been healed, she has not been cleaned.

He turns to Kiri, and tells her to go get some warm water and a cloth. Kiri is gone in a flash. Neteyam looks over Y/N as she lays there. Kiri said she would be okay, and he trusts Kiri, but she doesn't look okay.

Not an inch of her doesn't have a bruise or a cut. She lost a lot of blood, and they aren't sure how her arm will function once she recovers - but he knows no one should underestimate her.

Kiri returns, leaving the water and cloth and taking off again after giving Neteyam a reassuring hug.

Meticulously, Neteyam cleans Y/N, gently removing all of the dirt and debris that she collected in her fall. Once her skin is clean, he removes the leaves and dirt from her long braided hair, as best as he can.

All the while, he hates himself for doubting her. He knew Ma'rek was lying, deep down, but he was so scared... and he had been so scared, for nearly two years, to ask her to be his mate.

Now, he can't remember why. If she would just open her eyes now, he would ask.

Fingers are running through my hair. That's the first sensation I feel as I regain consciousness.

It is much more pleasant than the sensations that follow. I am sore, over every single part of my body. My arm throbs, and there is a burning pain in my stomach.

A groan involuntarily escapes my lips, and I turn my head to the side. I reach for my stomach with my arm that doesn't hurt, but someone stops me, taking my hand in theirs.

I open my eyes with much effort, and see Neteyam leaning over me.

"Here. Kiri said this would help." He holds up a cup, and puts one hand behind my neck, gently lifting my head so I can drink the warm, bitter liquid inside.

The effect is almost instant in the way it calms me, and I sigh as I lay back down.

"What happened?" I ask.

"I was going to ask you," Neteyam replies. "You fell. Hard."

It comes back to you slowly. Your distraction. How you tripped. The two branches that broke your body before you hit the ground. You wince.

"Really hard. Everything hurts, Neteyam."

"Your knife cut your stomach, and you broke your arm. You're going to make a full recovery, but you need to rest."

You wince, sucking in a sharp breath. "Are you still mad at me?"

A laugh escapes Neteyam's lips, and you glare at him. "I'm sorry - but that's what you're worried about?"

"Yes."

"I'm not mad at you. I never should have been. I love you, Y/N, and I want you to be my mate."

Well, he's picked an opportune time to finally admit it.

"Are you sure?" you ask.

Neteyam's eyes are soft, but you notice the dark circles underneath of them. You wonder how long you've been asleep, and whether he's been here the entire time.

He reaches out, pushing your hair out of your face, and his fingers linger on your cheek.

"I have always been sure. I was just... scared. That you would say no, or that I wouldn't be enough for you. But I thought you were going to die, Y/N, when I first saw you. And I would rather die myself. Life would not be worth living without you."

He leans down, his face hovering just above mine, waiting for permission.

"I love you, Neteyam. Of course, I'll be yours."

The kiss is gentle, because it has to be. Even your lips are cut and bruised. But when he pulls away, he takes a little of your pain and sadness with him.

All will be well.

#neteyam x reader #neteyam fic #avatar 2 #avatar twow #neteyam sully

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sincerelyyycece · 6 months

Text

please tell me that at least a part of it was real.

You'd never imagine Remus Lupin could be so heartless.

Hearts racing. Ears buzzing. Breathing rapid. This isn't how I imagined spending my Saturday night, nor is it pleasant overhearing my boyfriend and his friends discussing a bet involving me. Confusion, betrayal, and anger surge through me. Nausea grips me, and my vision blurs as my hands shake uncontrollably. Despite the turmoil, I find myself moving toward them, my knees quivering.

His friend, Sirius, is the first to notice me. He nudges my so-called boyfriend and gestures in my direction. Your eyes meet. "Y/N?" Remus calls my name, and I collapse to my knees, tears streaming down my face. Remus rushes to my side, wrapping his arms around me. "Hey, hey, are you okay?" How dare he care about my well-being? I scoff internally. He gently lifts my chin to meet his gaze. "What's the matter, baby?" he asks, genuine concern etched on his face.

Once more, hot tears streamed down my cheeks as he repeated the question. Bowing my head, I felt the sadness morph into anger. Inhaling deeply, I rose to my feet, with Remus steadfastly beside me, offering his support. Turning to face him, I found his brow furrowed, awaiting my response. "Love?" he queried, prompting me to lash out, delivering a sharp slap that elicited gasps from his friends. Thankfully, the deserted area of the school spared the situation from escalating into a public scandal.

As Remus's friends moved to assist him, my glare silenced them; they were still acquaintances in this bet. Remus, nursing his reddened cheek, confronted me with disbelief. "What the hell, Y/N?" he exclaimed, to which I retorted, "A bet?" Anger surged through my voice. Remus's eyes widened in realization as I demanded, "How much?" Sirius attempted to intervene, but I shut him down without hesitation.

"I’m not talking to you, Black," I seethe, silencing him. James gestures for Sirius to give me space, shaking his head. "Remus, how much?" I inquire once more. Remus hesitates before replying, "Fifty sickles." Disbelief washes over me at his answer. "Fifty sickles? Fifty fucking sickles? That's what you bet on me?!" I exclaim. Remus bows his head in shame.

Is that how much he thinks I’m worth? Tears have long vanished, replaced by a surge of anger coursing through my veins. I must’ve voiced my thoughts aloud because he immediately denied it, shaking his head vigorously. "No, no, no." He reaches for my hand, but I pull away. "I never meant for you to find out." I scoff at his words.

"So, you were merely using me? Spouting all those sentimental words without sincerity? Is that the game you were playing, making me appear like a fool?" I vent. He denies it, tears now streaming down his face. Dropping to his knees, he pleads, "It's not like that." I lash out, "It is like that, Remus! You've made me a fool!" He falls silent, softly sniffing.

"Please tell me that at least a part of it was real," I pleaded, my voice shaking. The memories we created, the laughter and tears we shared—I couldn't bear the thought that it could all have been a lie. I needed to hold onto something—anything that could prove that our time together had meant something. It was too painful to imagine that our shared moments, seemingly so full of genuine emotion, could be nothing more than illusions.

“It was. It still is.” As Remus kneeled before me, his tears mirroring my own, I felt a storm of emotions raging within me. I wanted to believe that there was something genuine in our relationship—some shred of authenticity amidst the lies. But as I looked into his eyes, searching for any sign of sincerity, I found myself grappling with doubt and uncertainty. "I don't know, Remus," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "I want to believe that what we had was real, but how can I trust anything you say now?" My heart ached with the weight of betrayal, torn between the memories of our shared moments and the harsh reality of his actions.

Remus reached out tentatively, his hand hovering in the air as if unsure whether to touch me. "Y/N, please," he pleaded, his voice choked with emotion. "I know I messed up, but I swear to you, what we had meant everything to me. I never meant to hurt you." His words hung in the air between us, heavy with the weight of regret and remorse. I wanted to believe him—to believe that beneath the façade of the bet, there was still some kernel of truth in his feelings for me. But trust, once broken, is not easily repaired.

"I need time, Remus," I said finally, my voice trembling with emotion. "Time to figure out if I can ever trust you again." With that, I turned away, leaving him kneeling, his tears a silent testament to the damage he had wrought, his friends tending to him. As I walked away, my heart heavy with sorrow and uncertainty, I knew that the road ahead would be fraught with challenges. But one thing was certain: I would not allow myself to be deceived again. In the end, it was not just my heart that needed protecting—it was my dignity, my self-respect, and my ability to believe in the possibility of love. And that was something no amount of tears or apologies could ever fully mend.

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fic #remus lupin x you #remus lupin #remus lupin x y/n

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l0v3tast3 · 2 years

Note

AHH Hello!!! I absolutely love your writing, it’s so good!!!!

I was wondering…

Y/n always wear a mask to conceal her identity, in hopes the 141 doesn’t find out that Makarov is her father!!

141 had captured Makarov for interrogation, and y/n is there. As the interrogation continues, they start to notice that y/n and Makarov know each other, by the subtle little informality they spoke to one another. And the truth starts to come out, little by little!!!!

✎ tysm i love you :(( i absolutely love this idea the angst potential is just *chef's kiss* i'm sorry this one took like over a month to make oops, also i tried to keep personal details abt the reader as vague as possible, pls let me know if there's something i can fix!!

✎ tags: female reader, military reader, major daddy issues, violence, mentions of blood, hurt/barely any comfort if at all, not proofread im too cool for that,

✎ word count: 2,704

the silence in the cold, gray interrogation room was so thick that you were choking on it. you knew you had just fucked up, badly.

you had done so well so far, too. you're fabricated identity had fooled everyone. the name you had chosen stuck, and no one ever noticed your old one threatening to jump from your mouth when you introduced yourself. you always kept the childhood memories and little anecdotes vague. you stuck to your rehearsed lines better than a world-famous actor. you did every single thing right.

and now, here he was, your own blood, fucking it all up for you, again.

technically, he had made you fuck it up for yourself. it was just how makarov worked; he was a spider weaving a web in the corner, watching, waiting. this man, your supposed father, didn't know anything real about you. he didn't know you as a father should know his daughter. but he knew which buttons to press.

he only knew what to say to you when it would allow him the opportunity of watching you fall a little deeper towards rock bottom.

you knew that the room had cameras covering every square inch, and the microphones ensured that you're accidental admission to your heritage was heard by your entire task force.

there was a red hot pit opening inside of you, caving your insides in like a black hole and threatening to consume your entire being. it was rage, you realized. something you only ever seemed to feel in the presence of one person.

you briefly considered killing him, right there and then. was this really the straw that broke your back? it truly was just another thing to add to the list. you had known he would do this.

no, you were angry at yourself.

on the other side of the door, the four men of the 141 task force were all stood still in shock. what the hell did you just say?

none of them wanted to believe it. they especially didn't want to admit that it made sense. you had done a fucking fantastic job of hiding it, they'll admit that, but even you couldn't hide everything.

price saw the way you tensed when you were passed laswell's photo of makarov in the bar, after you had all put an end to hassan's plan. he saw the way you dropped it and slid it to the next person quickly, as if touching the picture had burned your fingertips.

soap had asked you if you were okay more than once during the plane ride to russia. you were so restless, so different from your usual grounded self. you just said you were having some flying anxiety. he felt stupid now for writing it off so easily.

and kyle, the first one to trust you (and to even really talk to you), he had seen the anger sparking off of you while you shot your way through the tower to get to makarov. floor after floor, bullet after bullet, you had paved a path of blood through the mercenaries. he wondered if someone else had taken your mask and gear and was pretending to be you.

simon saw the fear in you when you all got to the last door. you had been so quick in your endeavor to get here, but he saw you hesitate to follow them in. he saw how you never took your wide eyes off of him, and how you stayed a few steps back, moving far out of the way when price began to escort him out in handcuffs.

and when they had asked you to go into the interrogation room, they all saw how you stopped breathing, and the sweat collecting on what little skin they could see above your mask. you had stuttered when you quietly agreed.

when you stepped into the room, makarov took one look at your eyes, and you knew he recognized you. no, he recognized the hatred. and it made him smile.

now, sitting in the cold metal chair, you realized that it wasn't just one mistake, but a series of them; you had let him unravel you, again. you understood, finally, that he saw you as he did everyone else. he saw you as someone that held him back.

part of you had always known, ever since you were young, still single-digits, and he would only visit you once every few months, if that. you had elected to ignore it. now you couldn't.

you couldn't move. behind you was the door that would lead you to the consequences of your actions. in front of you was the reason for those actions.

this is what you had wanted, wasn't it? it was like something snapped back into place, and you suddenly remembered that everything you had done up until now, every time you put the mask on before leaving your room, every lie you had told and every person you had killed had been to get you here. in front of your father. you remembered that the image of him with a bullet between his eyes was what kept you going.

if you killed him, would it finally absolve you? the gun on your hip felt twenty pounds heavier now. your fingers, folded together in your lap with a white-knuckle grip, felt like lead. would this sin make all the other wrongs right?

a tiny voice was telling you to just walk away, let the team's wrath come down on you and let them deal with makarov, but you had already thrown the table between you towards the wall, he was already on the ground with your hands wrapped around his throat.

you were yelling, no, screaming at him. all the compacted feelings from years and years of being as quiet as possible came up like vomit, spewing out in a mess that could never be cleaned up.

there were more than just makarov's hands on you, pushing and pulling you away from him and dragging you out of the room, kicking and screeching to let you just finally kill him, while two other blurry shapes hauled him back into his own chair.

the heavy metal door shut behind the two people practically carrying you, and they finally let you go. you stumbled a few steps away, whirling around for the next target of your fury.

your captain and lieutenant were standing in front of you, both tensed, waiting for you to do something. you couldn't exactly make out their faces- were you crying?

"what in the bloody hell just happened in there?" price snarled. it was the voice he used when he was face to face with his enemy.

"let me back in there." it was a demand. you needed to kill him.

"that's not gonna happen," simon barked. john and kyle had come out from the interrogation room to stand behind the other two men. "you need to explain, now."

they all stared at you with varying looks of anger and hurt. it wasn't the first time you'd ever had it directed at you, but this was somehow worse than all the others.

every cell in your body was shrieking at you to just run for the door, to somehow get through all four of these men, your teammates, your friends, and kill makarov. but their glares glued you to your spot.

"please-" your voice was trembling, years of grief and agony dripping from every word, "please, just let me kill him. you have to let me kill him." you spoke slowly and quietly, focusing on just trying to get the words out. you took a shaky breath and focused your eyes on a muddy bootprint on the floor. you didn't want to see the looks on their faces.

"you don't understand, you just- just let me back in there, please, i'll get whatever you need out of him, but he needs to die!" your voice was getting louder, and you briefly wondered if your father could hear you. "his men are probably already on their way here. don't you get it? if i don't kill him now, he will get out."

the men in front of you were more shocked now than anything at the change in your demeanor. you had been coined the "second ghost" throughout the units, partly for the mask, but also because of your detachment. you were kind, but you always held logic above emotion.

in front of them now was nothing short of a nervous wreck.

despite not moving, you were frantic. you were wringing your hands together, pressed tight against your stomach. your eyes darted from side to side, person to person, between them and the door to makarov.

price took a step forward and you took a step back. he was slow, bringing his hand up as if he were approaching a wild animal. if he was still angry, he was hiding it now.

"come on, kid, let's just get out of 'ere, eh? go somewhere away from him," he said lowly. the other three men watched tensely, not moving, but their hands still close to their guns. just in case.

"no, no- just let me- price, you need to let me back in there!" you were a broken record, you knew it, but there was nothing else to say, nothing else you could think about. this was what you had been waiting for, you were right where you had wanted to be for the past- how many years now? how long has he tormented you for now?

you could feel your father's presence in the next room like bugs crawling across your body. it made your head feel fuzzy and your hands shake. was it from rage or fear? you couldn't tell, so you chose the rage.

it was like bile stuck in your throat, all the pain makarov had caused you finally being unearthed. you wanted to throw it all up and spit it out onto him, lay your organs and hatred alike out on the table in front of him so he could see the decay. you wanted him to rot from the inside out like you had.

your eyes glanced at the door one last time before focusing on price. he was watching you, just a couple of steps in front of you now.

"let me back in there, john." it was a whisper, but still the steadiest thing you had spoken since they had dragged you out.

"no." he said your name quietly, and you heard it as the plea it was, but you're head decided it was done listening.

your body threw itself at him, swinging underneath his arms and onto his back to try and get him on the ground. the room exploded into yelling, and multiple pairs of hands were on you in an instant, hauling you off of price and forcing you face-down onto the ground with your hands behind your back.

cold metal latching around your wrists didn't stop your screaming and kicking, lashing out at the air around you. it didn't work well, because you were being hauled back to your feet and pushed into a separate interrogation room.

whoever was carrying you didn't bother with trying to attach your handcuffs to the table, basically throwing you in and slamming the door shut before you could get back on your feet.

outside the cell, the four men stood in silent shock. what was there to say, where would they even start? would they really be able to hear each other over your muffled screams to let you out?

you didn't know how long you had been in there once the door finally opens again, but you had stopped screaming and struggling to get out of the room. you had sat down at the table, your hands folded in front of you on the cold surface. you stared down at the blood beading and smearing around the handcuffs.

kyle squeezed in through the tiny amount he'd let the door open before he shut it quickly, keeping his eyes on you. you didn't look up, your red eyes staying fixed on one point even as he slowly moved closer. he followed them to see the red rings underneath the steel, and a pang of guilt squeezed his heart tight.

he sat down across from you, folding his hands in front of him on the table, mirroring you. you still hadn't looked up at him, or done anything to acknowledge his presence; you hadn't even moved.

"are you alright?" kyle implored. he kept his voice soft, bending over a little to try to look you in the eye.

it took you a few moments to respond; he almost started to think you didn't hear him before you opened your mouth slowly.

"is he dead?" you croaked.

kyle let out an audible sigh while he leaned back in his seat, bringing his hands up to drag them down his face.

"no, we still need him. you know that."

you didn't say anything after that.

after sitting in silence for two full minutes, he spoke up. "you realize not telling us about this makes you look really bad, yeah?"

"you don't trust me anymore?" you whispered it, like you didn't want him to hear and answer. you knew what he would say.

"you aren't making it very easy."

kyle wanted to trust you still. part of him was angry and confused as to why you had kept something like this from them. the other part, the bigger part of him, knew that you were on still on the same side of it all. and he knew the other three men felt the same, but they couldn't just dismiss this.

"we can work this out, ya' know. you just have to be honest with us," he added after you once again stayed silent.

"be honest?" you echoed. you finally looked up at him. "about what? you heard me. makarov is my father. i want him dead. that's all there is to say."

kyle took his turn to not speak, weighing your words, figuring out where to go from there.

"why didn't you tell us?" he finally asked.

you looked back down at your wrists. "if i had told you i was makarov's daughter before i joined the team, then all i would have ever been is makarov's daughter." you paused to take a deep, shaky breath. it was uncomfortable with your mask still on, wet with tears, but you refused to take it off, to give away the last piece of your identity that was still yours at the moment.

"it's something we should have known," he contended quickly. "we could have used the information you have-"

you cut him off, your eyes snapping back up to glare daggers at him. "you think i know anything more than you?" you barked. something between a laugh and a sob escaped your throat before you could continue. "i was eight years old the last time i saw him in person. i was raised by live-in nannies. he only visited, what, maybe twice a year? and i don't know why he even bothered, either."

your hands were clenched into tight fists, and the same sting that circled your wrists was appearing in your palms. you kept going though; you didn't know if you could stop now.

"every time i get somewhere, every time i start making a life for myself again, he fucks it all up. never showed his damn face, but it was him, it was always-" you finally cut yourself off, not wanting to drag more memories out from the dark.

"makarov may be my father, but i am not his daughter. i swear, kyle, i fucking swear it." you were pleading with him to believe you now. you needed them to understand.

you could see it in the way his eyebrows creased that he wanted to take your words as the truth. but he didn't say anything (what could he have said?).

the door opened once again, and price half-entered the room to wave kyle back out. he avoided your gaze, something he'd never done before. then you were alone again.

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throneofsapphics · 15 days

Text

the moth and the flame part 7: your wounding

poly!Nessian x f!Reader

summary: after meeting Nesta in a bookshop, you find the darkest parts of yourselves bonding with each other. Naturally, Cassian finds himself entangled with the two of you.

warnings: check the series masterlist!

a/n: I put the warnings on the series masterlist just in case anyone wanted to avoid spoilers, but I'll say this chapter is definitely heavy.

series masterlist

Nesta loved you, even if you were difficult sometimes. The kind of difficult that made her want to pull her hair out. Then again, she supposed she probably made you want to pull your hair out as well, the two went hand in hand.

Her main gripe, currently, was that she couldn’t seem to get you to open up. It was easy to take it personal, to believe that you didn’t trust her, but Nesta knew it ran deeper than that. Out of most people, she should know how deep scars can run.

“Talk to me,” she tried, running fingers through your hair. Three orgasms usually loosened your tongue. “What’s on your mind,”

You hummed against her chest, nestling in closer. Not very talkative. Considering how you’d turned into a shell of shorts, to Nesta it was essential she get something out of you today, something so she could at least try to help you. Hiding your drugs and alcohol hadn’t worked, that had only sent you into a fucking rage and she didn’t want to deal with that shit again.

“How is work?”

You tensed. She mentally cheered - the sore spot, now she knew where to push.

After a careful half-interrogation, not pushy enough to ‘push’ the line too far, Nesta figured out one of your new coworkers had been rather bitchy recently.

“But if anything happens to her I will be pissed,” you insisted.

It was Nesta’s turn to hum. She was already planning a slow and miserable existence for the female, death would probably be too easy. Cassian might have some more ideas on how to deal with her. Would her mate join or judge her?

“Nesta,” her name was accentuated by a light scratch on her chest. Her back arched subconsciously. “Oh?” You sat up further, straddling her.

You ran your nails down her chest, over the light fabric of her top, catching on her nipples with an extra hint of pain she loved. Her eyes lit up. A thud sounded on the door.

Sighing, you rolled off her. Of course someone had to interrupt. Her entire lack of reaction to that sparked stupid, stupid anger in you. You tamped it down, suffocated the flame until the barest dusting of ash remained, spread wide over your mind.

You were slowly growing more ... unwell, in your mind, you knew as the days went on but there was still time for you to get it under control. Nesta always said it was ‘never too late,’ but you’d been far gone since the day you were born. It wasn’t something a few books or meditation lessons could fix, Gods know you’d tried once. Miserable.

Maybe your mind was broken irreparably, or just born that way.

You heard your name. Felt a gentle hand on your shoulder, a light squeeze from arms distance away, as if you might reach out and strike. Nesta.

You’d stopped mid thought, right in the open doorway leading from your bedroom. The pounding on the front door grew louder.

“I’ll get it,” Nesta murmured and twisted past you, casting a worried glance behind her.

All they did was worry, and tell you about it, and you were getting sick of it. Sick of all of the babying.

Hushed tones in front of you. Cassian. You saw his head nod before he stepped around Nesta and closed the distance between the two of you.

“Thought I'd have to break the door down, sweetheart,” he slipped his arms under yours. Feet left the ground, air swung your nightdress from side to side, laughter left your lips as you locked your arms around his neck and held tight.

Both eternity and not nearly long enough passed before he stopped, just holding you mid air. Instinct had you locking your legs around his waist, not wanting to let him get further away from you. It had been a whole week, hadn’t it?

You were a horrible partner for not putting that together sooner.

The happiness from Cassian’s return was temporary. Just that. The dark cloud swept back in, not helped by the ‘toxic,’ as their House called it, attributes to their relationship. You supposed it was wrong to put complete blame on the relationship, part of it was on you too. Or was there anything to blame? Your mind was a confused puddle of emotions and feelings, exaggerated and drawn out in all of the wrong places. It wasn’t a fun place to be, you knew that.

Too much alcohol. Too many pills. You’d done far too much of each, and felt ... a blissful nothingness, and the way seemed clear right then.

Eternal nothingness was the only solution. The only reasonable one. The path of least suffering for you and forth those around you. Fuck, it made sense, it was the first thing to make sense in a very, very long time. Logic had no place in you right now, and you knew this was perhaps one of the stupidest impulsive decisions you’d make in your life but you could only live doing whatever felt right in the moment.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

You’d read once in a book that a character slashed their wrists. It seemed easy enough. There was already plenty in you to numb any pain that might come with the sensation.

Stop. Stop. Stop.

Grabbing a rather pretty dagger, desiring an aspect of poeticness to your fading, you sat on your couch and flipped it a few times. Better than a kitchen knife.

Stop this, please, a voice that sounded eerily like Nesta spoke in the back of your mind, but she was too late. Besides, Nesta never said ‘please,’ not to you. Thudding on the door. Your hands were already moving, biting your lip at the first slice to keep the wince in.

“Break that door down right fucking now,” Nesta hissed at Cassian, but he was already moving - shoulder slamming into the wood. Using power would draw too much attention, but your building was loud enough this shouldn’t catch anyones attention.

She smelt copper. Blood. A lot of it. It was just you in the apartment, she could sense that, had you fallen? All she knew was she needed to get to you more than she needed air, more than her own blood running through her veins.

The door flung open, she pushed past Cassian to see crimson dripping on carpet, your bedroom door half open, body flung over the bed, slashed wrist dangling off the edge.

A strangled cry left her throat.

general taglist: @rowaelinsdaughter @bookishbroadwaybish @nestaismommy @erencvlt @panther-girl-124

acotar taglist: @lilah-asteria @yeonalie @i-am-a-lost-girl16

series taglist: @breadsticks2004 @shamelessdonutkryptonite @rowaelinsdaughter @fightmedraco @acourtofbatboydreams @readinggeeklmao @krowiathemythologynerd @kooterz @anxious-study @lilah-asteria @nestaismommy

#nessian x y/n #nessian x reader #poly!nessian #poly!nessian x y/n #poly!nessian x reader #cassian x y/n #cassian x reader #nesta archeron x reader #nesta archeron x y/n #acotar x reader

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dearanakin · 3 months

Text

trust you | anakin skywalker: episode VIII

Summary: Anakin gets dragged into a mission with Poe Dameron, while something unexpected happens at the Jedi Temple, where you and the others face the incoming threat. (don't forget I use characters from different timelines)

Warnings: mentions of blood, vulgar language

Word count: 3.2k

previous chapter | read on Wattpad

Anakin:

I was on a mission with freaking Poe Dameron. I would like to think I haven't lowered my standards when it comes to the assignments I usually do, because this one sure fucking isn't it. But I was literally dragged to do this with him, it wasn't the first time either, so I know what he was on about. I didn't have a choice matter-of-factly, because I refused too many times the past two days, but he just made me come with him saying he needed my assistance. He also made me wear a stupid helmet, but I reassured my decision and disagreed.

He works with the fucking Resistance, what does he need me for? He flies a T-70 X-wing starfighter, which is high key superior to my Eta-2 Actis-class. He knows many attack techniques, and he also has an entire group with him flying around.

Poe was using his comlink to communicate with his partners as we reached closer to find the First Order's headquarters. It reminded me badly of the Emperor, but I tried to suck up the feeling of rage inside of me. It's been years already, what is done is done.

While the man next to me focused on his own mission, I thought back to two days ago, when I met (Y/N) in the coffee room. I honestly didn't expect to meet anyone there, hence why I decided to get a drink in the middle of the night. It caught me off guard seeing her after what had happened the last time we were together, which made me feel completely flimsy being close to her.

And it pissed me off that she thought it would be a good idea to bring his lightsaber up after everything he had done before he left me behind. I didn't regret breaking that stupid piece of shit of grip, I should've done that the first time I came across it when she had it in her hands. It drives me insane the way she just trusts everyone she meets, without even realizing how much they can harm people. And worse than that, trusting Obi-Wan fucking Kenobi.

I can't trust anyone after everything I've been through, after I've been left behind from my former Master. Most importantly, I trusted Palpatine's words that he could help me save Padmé, and he betrayed me as well. My issues all lie around the ones I devoted my life to.

Dameron snaps me out of my distraction when he finally speaks up to me, handing me a blaster gun. I rolled my eyes, thinking he definitely believes I would need a blaster gun when I have my lightsaber.

"We're moving forward to attack them, assault their army and gather intel" He removes his helmet, which has features of the Resistance's symbol mixed with a red and black design.

"Jesus, Dameron. You guys know what you're dealing with, right?" I try to stand on my ground and not stick my nose where it wasn't my issue. Obviously, my body was probably going to boil from all the control I'm holding back.

"Yes, Sherlock? We've been here before, but we couldn't find them" Poe moves his head to the sides, looking for a hidden place to land, which was pretty nonexistent.

Why the fuck did he call me Sherlock?

"You couldn't find them" I laughed in disbelief. He truly believes it's that easy to fight against the First Order. "Can you imagine what they're capable of if they find us first?"

He seemed to ponder for a moment, but gave me a reassuring smirk before unbuckling his belt. I did nothing but huff in annoyance over his shitty idea. I was going to help him and his trope, but only because he made me come, and I owe him as well.

"I've led attacks and been to many before, and they were all terrible people. This is no different" Poe tried to convince me he would make it out of here. Again, my trust issues aren't really helping me here.

"Yeah, but they weren't Snoke" I muttered and he shot his head back at me quickly, surprised with my words "I can sense the motherfucker from miles"

We stay glancing at each other for what feels like several minutes, only then he took in what was really happening and how much he was willing to risk himself and his group in a suicide mission. Because that's what it really is when it comes to Snoke. The artificial humanoid was as powerful as Palpatine.

"You're telling me you made me bring you into this shit show and didn't tell me who we're dealing with?" He raised his voice, almost squeaking with desperation, and I furrowed my brows.

I shake my head, not exactly catching on what he's saying. "You didn't fucking know we were literally walking into death?"

"I thought we were fighting off Stormtroopers?"

He's really unbelievable. If I wasn't here, he would be dead by now. Poe would've been sliced into a million pieces and would've taken his entire group down with him.

"Poe! For God's sake, do you ever think before you go on these missions?" I can't even begin to tell how much I'm frustrated with him and his lack of self consciousness. "This is the fucking Supremacy headquarters, it's literally his lair!"

He became desperate and started to communicate through his comlink, letting the others know what we were really getting ourselves into. I swear to God this is why I don't trust people at all. I should've known better than to just follow Poe into the assignments he finds. This is beyond crazy of him.

I decided to take over the yoke of his ship and maneuver it until we start to lift off the ground, swinging it. The moment we started to leave, the stormtroopers finally made their appearance and started shooting at us.

It was really hard to find the right setting for the attack, but I managed to hit the defense laser cannon, trying to blast them and take them down. Poe was in a mix of trying to warn everyone, while he shoved my hands off the yoke.

"You're gonna get us fucking killed!" He screamed before taking control and flying up, far enough to hit the men on the ground.

"You're the one to talk!" I yelled back at him, looking out the window to realize his teammates were still taking off and struggling to fight back. My senses heightened when I felt something really disturbing ring in my head.

At first, it was confusing because it came all at once. The high-pitched noise started to pound in my head and when I looked back at the headquarters, I noticed Snoke coming out of the Supremacy, walking slowly to the edge of the place. He was staring at us, but didn't move a finger.

"Pull the lightspeed gear!" I shouted at Poe, startling him. He looked at me and creased his brows. "Do it now!"

He didn't question my demand, pulling the gear immediately and we crossed the galaxy in a matter of seconds. He looked over his shoulder to get a glance behind us, to see if his teammates were right after us. I unknowingly heaved out a sigh, listening to Dameron do the same next to me when we noticed their ships behind us.

Still, the vertigo and the ringing in my head hit back, and I looked over the transceiver on his control panel. There was a hissing noise and a faint voice on the other side, speaking words we couldn't understand. He managed to spin a few buttons, trying to tune it in so it became clear.

"Code nine thirteen! Nine, one three!" The other voice spoke, and we both looked at each other at the same time. It's an emergency code.

Was that Cal Kestis? My blood ran cold, and I felt a shiver down my spine, and my limbs became numb. I watched as Poe took the lead and gripped the transceiver speaker and spoke to him, I was utterly shocked and couldn't say a word. I started to zone out, thinking about Luke and our groups of people. Even (Y/N) came into my mind.

"It's the General Grievous' army! We are under attack! Where the hell are you guys?" His voice came rather desperate, like he couldn't fathom what was really happening.

"We're coming, landing is in a few seconds!" Poe sped up and quickly we were near the Temple.

"Luke, is he okay? How bad is it?" I was still under a daze, my eyes roaming around the place looking for something dreadful happening down there.I start to unbuckle myself as soon as Poe lands the ship, barely waiting for him to open the doors and I immediately sprint off the hallway of the Temple looking for my son.

From the corner of my eye I noticed Cal hitting his lightsaber incessantly against the army of droids, his face covered in dried blood. He shot me a knowing look when I came over to where he was and assisted him with my weapon.

"Where is Luke?" I hear my strangling voice ask him as we managed to keep ourselves shielded from them. He didn't answer and I raised my tone at him "Where the hell is my kid?"

"He's hiding with (Y/N), she took him!"

"Where?" My hands were swinging the lightsaber as fast as they could, even though I could feel them trembling.

"I don't fucking know- ah!" He grunted and I looked over at him.

One of the droids slashed their sword against his upper arm, ripping a pained groan out of him. I kicked it off and shoved mine against them, beating it into pieces. Kestis watches me with wide eyes and nods when I face him back.

I rush out of the hallway, running aimlessly. I needed to figure out a way of getting to Luke, but I had to think about where she would hide with him in the first place. And I had no idea, given that I still don't know much about her. So I tried the only thing I have to my advantage. I focused my senses and shut down the background noise. A few seconds later, I gathered a few whispering down the other end of the Temple.

My hands were shaking really badly, I thought I was going to pass out from the distress. It was agonizing not knowing where he was and if he was ok. I walked slowly through each closed door, until I could hear shuffling against the smaller one. It could barely fit two people in there. Usually they use force shields so any other force sensitive people wouldn't get ahold of it, but I've worked on mine for so long it can literally overreach it.

"Luke! Are you in there?" I ask, resting my hand over the door knob while leaning my ear against the door. There's still faint noises on the other side. It was faint, but I could hear them. "It's me, it's dad"

"Don't open the door, Luke. It could be a changeling" She whispers to him.

"But I know it's my dad. I can feel it" Luke whispers back, leaning against the door. I can feel his energy dissipating through the room.

"It's me Luke. It's not a changeling, I'm right here!" I try to whisper to him as well, maybe he will sense it too.

For a brief second, he mentioned opening the door but (Y/N) caught him in the middle of it. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

"No, young boy. Did your father not tell you to not trust anyone?" Her words hit me hard like a brick.

I know I've been clear about that, but it felt too weird to be on the other side of the story this time. She knows how I feel about trusting people, (Y/N) is trying to keep him safe using my own advice.

Again, he shuffled on the other side and I felt his body moving further away from the door. This time, she was standing against it.

"Stay back, and hold onto me" She asked in a low tone and slowly turned the doorknob.

I didn't wait until she opened fully, making myself step into the tiny room as I felt a whip of laser coming inches across from my face. She really needs to start practicing her freaking aiming. I watch as she holds tightly to the blaster gun and sighs in relief when she notices it's just me.

I kneel down and hold Luke tightly against me, resting my chin over his small shoulder. His arms cross around my neck and he holds me back with urge.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" I ask in a rush and feel my hands pull him tighter, almost merging our bodies together. He mumbles a "no" and clings to me.

I have to be faster if I want to get ourselves out of there alive and in pieces. I hold him up and place both of his legs around my waist, looking back at (Y/N) who watches the closed door, apprehensive.

She looks back at me for a slight second, nodding before preparing herself to walk out of the room.

"Thank you" I mumble almost silently when I stare back at her, both of us getting in position.

We ran across the hallway looking for any kind of cover, while I used my free hand to deflect the blasts and hit them where I could. Whereas (Y/N) attempts to aim and shoot them, miserably failing at it. But at least she's trying. I get to one of the giant metal doors that leads us to the underground, where we keep gears and machines running. There isn't really a path to follow under there, giving us time to reach outside the hangar.

We are met with a couple of battle droids, reaching out to them with Luke still on my hold, while he keeps his head low on my neck and his arms still around my body. I take a sharp inhale and decide to pass him over to her. I have to do it fast otherwise I'll regret it. She darts her eyes at me with furrowed brows and a concerned look, but still does so.

She realizes what I'm on to when I grasp the blaster out of her hand and start to shoot them while using my lightsaber at the same time. The spinning helps me get through the blasts, giving me advantage when I finally beat them down. But there are screaming and rumbling on the other side of the hangar, our teammates fighting them off as well as trying to get rid of their attack.

I step forward trying to figure out a way of getting them down quicker, but my plans get interrupted when something blows them up into flames. My mouth hangs open when I snap my head to the left and watch a ship as it fires off another laser cannon over them.

We all watch as whoever is in charge starts to get off, turning the aircraft around and speeding up in seconds. When I look back to the blown up droids, I notice they took down each one of them and the screaming has finally stopped.

We were safe. Whatever that was, they saved us.

From the distance, I see Poe and Cal running towards us. The redhead seems to be a little beaten but could still stand up, even though his face was covered in small cuts and splits, which was manageable. The pilot, on the other hand, kept holding his side, while his head was wrapped in cloth. You could still see fresh blood spreading against it.

"Holy shit" Poe was out of breath, he dropped all his weight over my shoulder where he kept his hand rested on. "Holy shit"

Holy shit indeed. I should tell him this battle is still nothing compared to what he was about to do.

I snake an arm under his body and lift him up, supporting him while we walk slowly. Louise walks past me still carrying Luke as she carefully uses her free hand to rest on Cal's face.

"Jesus, Cal. Are you okay?" She asks him, concerned about his injuries even though he gives her a nod.

Her thumb ghosts over his cheek, and he holds her hand with both of his, squeezing it. Kestis gives her a sided hug, ruffling Luke's hair.

"Ow, ow, ow!" Poe grunts next to me and I give him a quick look.

"What is it?"

"I don't know, I sense something... weird" He murmurs, using my shoulder for support. "I think it's jealousy"

"What the fuck, Poe?" The pilot is holding a cheeky grin on his face, and I feel my jaw clenching.

"Is that even an emotion you have? Is it possible?" He asks and I dig my mechanic fingers into his shoulder blade. "Ow! Ow! Okay, I'm sorry!"

"Shut up, before I change my mind and feed you to the Ewoks" I hear him chuckling, even though he's definitely in pain.

"Ewoks and Wookies love me, you're gonna have to try harder" Poe muttered.

I swat my hand over his head carefully, not wanting to hurt him even more than I wish I could. "I'll handle you to the fucking First Order next time"

He opens his mouth with an offended look and I display a victorious smirk at him.

There are dozens of injured people at the medical bay, it's definitely going to be a difficult job for all the medics, we were probably going to have to ask for a backup. Both him and Cal get assisted, while we watch them leave our sight. I feel Luke's small hands grab my neck, pulling himself against my body once again.

I shift his weight and whisper him some comforting words. He was really disturbed and I feel bad he had to live this shit. From the corner of my eye, I see (Y/N) trying to get rid of the dried blood from her trembling hands. I reach over and hold her wrist gently as she looks over me with a confused look.

Yes, I hate her sometimes, and she annoys me a lot. But I need to be friendly over the situation.

"We're fine, we're safe now" I speak through a comforting tone and she nods.

"Wasn't prepared for all of this" She tries to keep her head up, but her lips form into a thin line and I know she's in shock.

"I know, we never really are" My flesh hand gives her a reassurance squeeze and I feel my skin burn.

I can't handle the touch. I mean, I can handle touching my son. But when it comes to a woman, I just can't. It still reminds me of her. I jolt it back and try to cover up my reaction. Poe fucking ruined it for me. How can I be jealous of her if we can barely stand each other? This is probably a nonsense statement.

She doesn't say another word, holding her body with affliction.

I clear my throat before I choke out another "thank you". She glances up at me again, this time surprise washed over her face. "Thank you for taking care of him when I wasn't here. And for reminding him about trust"

This is a bit of a big deal to me. As much as I try to keep my distance from her, she keeps being pulled back like a damn magnet. I force myself to stay away from her but things always take a turn and we're once again facing each other. It gives me anxiety, and it's not a good one. If there's even a good kind of anxiety. It makes me feel like I'm taking many steps back after struggling with my reality.

I don't deserve someone in my life anymore, except Luke. All I did was hurt the people I love the most, and if I can keep them alive I can't allow myself to be too close to them. I mean, all of them. I don't want to be a friend for Cal, or Poe. I don't want to be a friend for (Y/N) either. This was an exception, she had to do it because I wasn't there for him. But I won't let it happen again.

And what happened today at the Temple was my fault. Whoever got killed or injured, it was because of me. It was because I still go after those who hurt me before. And General Grievous won't stop until he gets to me. I need to work on getting to him first before it's too late for me. I have to do this alone, this is my fight. I won't have anyone's blood in my hands anymore.

Only my own.

@adorbzliz @himesuedi @kingdomhate @cl0esblogg @littlecoffeenerd @readingthingsonhere @js-favnanadoongi @twilightzone24

#anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker fanfic #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin fanfic #anakin fanfiction #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin imagine #star wars fanfic #hayden christensen imagine #anakin skywalker fluff #anakin fluff #anakin skywalker #usersavana #clonecaptains #userlace #poe dameron #cal kestis

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heejayy · 6 months

Text

Young and Beautiful

Nanami x black reader

Warning: none

Word count: 1.2k

You let out an exhausted sigh as you slipped your hair out of its tight bun; you'd finally finished sifting through and responding to all of your emails, as well as reviewing some documents your boss had sent you. Your eyes are dry and strained, and your fingers are cramping after hours of typing. You checked the time and it was 10:53 p.m., which wasn't too bad given that you'd previously left work much later. Ready to depart, you stood up, stretched, and began gathering your belongings before heading home. You collected your binders, slid your home computer into its case, and grabbed your heels, which you had kicked off hours before.

As you closed your office and approached the elevator, your watch chimed with a message.

Bossy pants:

Mrs. Y/l/n, please meet me at 6:30 to look over the paperwork I handed over to you. There was an error.

"Fuck me!" you muttered, feeling rage rise in your chest. This man never gives you a break; he always relies on you, and he never bothers anyone else, which is driving you mad.

"Ugh he's always bothering me he acts like he doesn't have two other assistants to go over his project with but no it has to be m-"

"Y/l/n is that you?" You froze. Every muscle in your body stiffened up; you didn't expect him to be here so late; he usually leaves around 7 p.m., so what on God's green earth is he doing here at 11 p.m?

"M-mr. Kento?" Your chest tightened as you feared he had heard your angry rant.

"Come here," your body responded to his instruction before you could even think about it. You found yourself at the doorway of his office, playing with your acrylic nails, too frightened to look him in the eye, so you looked elsewhere.

His tie was unfastened, and his hair was tossed all over the place, in direct contrast to how it had been precisely slicked back and combed that morning.

“Mr. Kento "I didn't realize you were here this late... why is that?" You asked cautiously, hoping he hadn't heard your dramatic outburst earlier.

"Had to finish some paper work, I'm assuming you did as well?" You nodded, giving him a forced smile. An uneasy silence settled over his office.

"Tell me y/n do you think I work you too much?" He clearly heard your small outburst.

"I- listen I didn't mean-"

"I made you the senior executive assistant for a reason. You're a hard worker, honest, and trustworthy. You and Suguru are the only two people I trust to oversee this floor and manage my schedule; I wouldn't assign you anything you couldn't handle."

“Mr. Kento I understand you mean well, but this is just too much at times, and I'm not saying I don't want this position; I do, and I thank you for it, but I'd like some extra help if it not too much trouble." He took a sharp breath in and pushed his chair from behind his desk, then opened a drawer and pulled out a wine bottle and two glass cups.

"Join me?" You were taken aback by your boss's casual approach toward you; he was always known to keep matters strictly business-related.

"Um sir-"

"When's the last time you had a chance to wind down or hang out with your friends?" You blinked quickly, unsure of how to answer this question.

"My friend sort of abandoned me a long time ago due to me flaking on them for work." He gave you a kind of frown. "I know exactly how that feels."

Your boss strolled over to his couch and patted the empty space next to him, "Join me?"

You tilted your head in confusion, but decided that one drink wouldn't hurt.

2:45 AM

You ended up having more than one glass, and now your cheeks are heated, and you're leaning slightly into your boss, giggling at a story he just told you.

"You don't even seem like the type to get wasted I can't believe you did that!" He chuckled, savoring the last of his wine.

"Yeah well I was young and foolish and I also had bad influences for friends."

As you rested your head on his shoulder, a comfortable silence descended over the room; perhaps it was the wine, but your mood was subdued. Your mind wandered away, thinking about how you'd become drawn into the toxic work culture and how it was draining your youth.

"Nanami i'm tired."

"Tired of what love?"

"I'm tired of feeling as if I have to work until I drop, as if even if I achieve every goal, something is missing, as if I haven't done enough because there's always someone who will outdo me." Sometimes I just want to quit and move to a remote island to be happy."

"Keep this a secret yeah, but sometimes I feel the same way." Your head snapped up.

"Really? No way!” You spoke sarcastically, he chuckled “do I seem that miserable at work?”

“No you just- you don’t seem like this is something you enjoy doing.”

“Don’t get me wrong I do appreciate having this job but if I had a chance to run I’d take it.”

“Run where?” You asked curiously. He glanced down at you with a small smile “let’s make a deal, when I make a break for it I’ll take you” you giggle feeling flustered.

“Ooo where we going?” You asked with a hint of flirting.

“Malaysia.”

Present Time

"Baby you ready?" You snapped out of your daze when your husband called for you. You placed the photo frame to the nightstand; it showed you and your husband celebrating your first anniversary on the beach in Malaysia. You were both young, happy, and much in love. To think you ended up marrying your boss, the same guy you used to gripe about on a daily basis. Now, you can't picture living without him.

"I'm almost done my love."

You're now in your 50s and still go to the same beach on your anniversary, but sometimes you wonder if you should've taken advantage of your youth and explored more instead of being locked up in an office all day.

"What's on that pretty mind of yours?" He inquired, and she wrapped his arms around your figure, rocking you back and forth.

"Nothing much, just reminiscing back to when we were younger. I feel like I wasted my youth chasing something I didn't want only to impress others, and now that I'm older, I feel like I missed out on the opportunity to be young and happy.

I wish I could rewind time to tell myself to enjoy life before it’s too late.”

"What are you saying before it's too late? We're only in our early fifties. We still have so much more to explore, and now that we're retired, we have all the time in the world, so put all this 'I'm old' rubbish out of your head and let's get ready to leave," you smiled at his attempt to cheer you up.

"Doesn't matter what age we are I will always love you."

"Nanami?"

"Yes beautiful?"

"I love you more." You cupped his face and kissed him gently, but that wasn't enough for him. Nanami gripped you by the waist and pulled you closer to him, deepening the kiss. One thing this man knew how to well was make you weak in the knees.

"That's impossible love."

#Nanami fluff #nanami x black!reader #jjk x black reader #jjk x poc!reader #Nanami x reader #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen x reader #fluff #X black reader #kento nanami #ask heejayy #jujutsu Kaisen #jjk fluff

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akingdomscrypt · 6 months

Text

War is Over (and what have we done?)

Part Four

Pairing; Graves x m!reader (slow burn)

WC; 2.9k

Summary; Graves is tired of being ignored.

Warnings; not really any? Not yet at least. Minor flashback stuff where it's implied he's trapped in the tank when it caught fire, mentions of death/pondering

A/n; probably my shortest chapter yet. I spilt what was originally one part into two because it just felt??? Off?? To put them together as one thing?? Idk but I felt like it called for more than just a few paragraph breaks

(also thanks to @/rousseau-vargas and @/embry-garrick who are my biggest motivators rn, next half of part will be out soon)

(idk how to explain it, but I love how his mouth moves..)

---"more than he bargained for"---

Phillip was bored out of his goddamn mind and a prisoner in his own fucking base. Which, to be fair, he had definitely anticipated would happen when he came back.

He had known he’d fucked up; he knew you would be angry. It had been a long time, Phil had been gone for nearly an entire year. Him suddenly appearing again after being presumed dead? That was sure to stir up some unsavory feelings; he had expected a bit of rage, some lashing out here and there.

He, for some unknown reason, hadn't predicted this.

You, trapping him in his own goddamn base.

Phil doesn't know how long he's been stuck within these same four walls—thankfully he'd been detained in one of the spare rooms, one with a small bathroom, and not where the temporary prisoners were usually kept—, but he does know that, especially if he stays here any longer, he's about to lose his damn mind.

He thought he knew you. Figured you'd eventually calm down—like you always did—and come back to collect him. Maybe chew him out a bit more, which would be well deserved, but then let him go. Reconcile. That's what usually happened when you two had a minor scuffle.

But this wasn't just a small mishap, some little blip on the timeline because Phil had gone a bit too far once again. Been a bit too snappy; had said the wrong thing. Was it?

With every day that passed, every second that dragged on, Phil was starting to believe he didn't know you as well as he had thought he did.

It's hot. It's so fucking hot. Phillip should have known better than to actually be in the damn tank when all this started, you, his dear co-founder, had warned him against it. But what was Phil to do? He'd rather face this heat a thousand times over, relive it again and again as much as it took, than have one of his own soldiers trapped in this chunk of metal.

Did he really think he would win? Well.. maybe. Phil had his doubts before this, you had your doubts, but he had insisted. And now he was going to pay for it stuck in this gradually melting, scalding hot box.

Another few raps of his knuckles on the wall, and still no answer.

Phil was really starting to get annoyed at this point. He was more than tired of being ignored, which only manifested in an uptick of his provocative behavior.

The hallway is on the other side and you, his dear Phantom, wouldn't leave him unguarded, would you?

Definitely not. So, again, he follows his obnoxious knocking with a shout of, “V! For Christ’s sake, I know you're out there!”

And he did, who better to have stand guard outside his door than your most trusted soldier?

He may not know you like he used to, and you may never admit it, but Phil could pride himself in the fact that you were at least a little predictable. And you had always been fond of their dearest Venn.

But, as had been the norm of how ever fucking long Phil had been trapped in here, there is no reply.

Phil had warned them. He had tried his damnedest to get those damn 141 boys to stand down, his orders hadn't been against them. Not originally. Not until they, as per usual, stuck their fucking noses into shit they don't belong in.

Was this what hell was like? Was this him paying for the horrid massacre he had commanded?

Phil could have gone against orders. He could've told Shepard where to shove it and be on his merry way—with his family Shadows alive. No one had to die. No one but Hassan and his goons had to meet their end.

But, goddammit, so many had. So many innocent lives were wasted.

Phil had been doing this shit for years, doing the dirty work no one else would, the kind the average military couldn't.

That didn't make it any easier.

He often put on a front; he had to. For his family's soldiers sakes’. If he was afraid, if he shied away from the blood and the gore, the screams and the terror, then he wouldn't be the strong, unmovable rock his soldiers relied on. Now would he?

He should have said no. Or maybe made some sort of compromise. But he hadn't, and there was no point in ruminating over what had been done. He was going to die here—it is what he deserved—, stuck and helpless.

Just like the innocent people whose lives he had stolen.

He knew you were just being stubborn. You would come around eventually- right?

Phil had never doubted you before. Having started this damn company together, just two wayward souls searching for something to call their own, tired of being tied down with yards upon yards or red tape—oh, the irony of that sentiment. You two had never been free.

Even when he pushed you away. When he left you the morning after—every damn time—to wake in his bed alone and cold. Not a trace of the warmth from the night before left behind.

Even when he refused to admit what you truly meant to him.

Phil had always assured himself that it didn't matter, he could say and do whatever he pleased, because you would always come crawling back to him. And you always had. No matter what.

Until right now.

Until you didn't.

“V! Goddammit, open the door!”

It was so fucking hot. He could barely move, mind fuzzy and breaths coming out in short, labored gasps.

What little movements Phil could make were sluggish and weak. The latch didn't work, and subsequently that meant the door didn't either. He was well and truly stuck.

Phil thought he was starting to make peace with that. Dying. It had been a long time coming, hadn't it?

After all the bloodshed. After all the things he had done in his life—all the blood and gore, the purposeful ignorance and choice to look the other way. To pretend not to care.

He deserved this, right? He was getting what had been coming for him. Finally.

It should have come sooner. He had lived plenty; he had done enough harm in his time.

Phil's tactic at this point was simply to be as obnoxious as he could possibly be, and annoy Venn into inevitably opening that damn door.

And after a few more harsh pounds of his fist against the wall, and several more calls of her name, Phil gets his wish.

In the form of a frustrated shout and the door slamming against the wall so hard it's a surprise the poor thing stays on its hinges, but he gets his way nonetheless.

“What.” Venn spits when she finally gets inside, arms crossed over her chest and one boot tapping furiously against the floor.

“That's no way to speak to your Commander, V.” Phil sing-songs, all upbeat and shit, against his own better judgment.

Ah, yes. Let's piss off the one direct line you have to Phantom more than you already have.

That's sure to get him his way.

“You're not-” Venn cuts herself off, sighing heavily and starting over. “What do you want, sir?”

She says the word with none of the respect she used to and, honestly, that was fair.

“Better.” Phil still hums. Because he's an asshole. And because he can't seem to stop himself, apparently, the snark seems to be hardwired into his brain or some shit.

“What. Do. You. Want.”

“You know what I want, V.” She makes a face at the nickname, and Phil pretends not to feel that little twinge in his chest. It's not like he doesn't deserve it. They used to be close. All of them.

“Not going to happen.” Venn snaps immediately. Defensive. Predictably.

“You know I'm not going to stop asking.”

“And you know it's never going to happen.”

“Fucking hell, V, why not?” Because he doesn't deserve the right of seeing you. Because he already fucked this up before it had the chance to be great.

“Because he doesn't want to see you.”

She's told him that before, several times over, to be honest, but Phil still can't hide the slight grimace that pulls at his features when Venn says it again. Says it with so much confidence, so much conviction, like it's an obvious fact everyone else has been made aware of and he's just been too stupid to pick up on it.

Phil has already been made well aware plenty of times. He just didn't want to believe it.

But what about you?

Would you be okay without him? Would the others? Phil knows you have never been the most.. well put together. But after you two got out of that wretched regimen, when you two banded together and created this little pretend family, things had been better.

Phil had been able to get you to open up more. To get you to behave more as yourself, and not like the shell of a man who he’d met when you two were still green.

You talked to him more. Got a bit better at talking with your fellow Shadows. Let him touch without flinching first, let him get to know the person beneath the aloof exterior.

Even though he had given nothing in return.

Would you make it out if this? And if you did, would you forgive him?

When you dug up those pieces of metal from the wreckage, those little markers of his identity, no doubt having melted to be nearly incomprehensible, would you bury them with his singed corpse? Or would you keep them safe? Tucked into a pocket of your vest, above your heart?

Would you tell his grave the stories of your future when the ashes settled? Would you bring flowers, or would you spat over the very earth he rested beneath?

Would you leave the stone unmarked, or with those few precious words you two had agreed upon all those years ago?

When he was gone, would you mourn? Would you miss the warmth of him above and beside yourself? Those whispered confessions spoken under that blanket, amidst the cover of night, would you forget them?

Would you forget him too?

“And he told you this?”

Venn goes silent then. One thing about her; though her moral compass was just as fucked as the rest of theirs, though her hands were bathed in the same amount of blood, Venn was a pretty shit liar.

“He doesn't even know you're in here, does he?”

More silence.

“Oh, you poor thing. First lying and now going against your Lieutenant's direct orders? What has become of you, V?”

“I don't need him to say it to know it's true!” Venn huffs, sending Phil a scathing glare.

“So you're making assumptions now? Dearest, Venn, you know what they say about people who assume..”

“The same way you assume he'll want to see you?”

Phil opens his mouth to protest, say something, but he draws blanks. What if she's right? What if you really didn't want to see him? Hell, did he even cross your mind anymore? Did you even remember you'd put him here?

Phil clamps his mouth shut and there's an audible clack of his teeth snapping together.

He hasn't seen you since that fateful day when, like the absolute dumbass he is, he had sent you storming out. Taunting and prodding, as Phil usually did, but you truly had been acting differently that day.

Or maybe it wasn't just that day. Maybe you had really changed, and Phil didn't know that man beneath the shell anymore.

He should've seen it more clearly when you walked in dressed head to toe, even that pretty face of yours masked. You didn't like shit like that. Always used to complain to Phil how much you hated them, being so covered up, made you feel claustrophobic or whatever.

But these days you wear it like a second skin.

“I deserve to see him.”

You had always been so calm, and he would often compare you to the soothing waves of the ocean washing over the cool sand of a beach after midnight.

But even calm waters can turn deadly in the blink of an eye.

“Deserve? You think, after what you did, you deserve anything?” Venn isn't masked, so the disbelieving look she gives him is quite obvious. Paired with a humorless, and honestly a little off-putting, laugh. “You don't deserve shit, Graves. And you definitely don't have the right to seeing him, not when-”

She cuts herself off then, and, if Phil had been thinking clearly, he would've asked for clarification. For her to continue because maybe, maybe he wasn't the only one privy to see that you weren't the same man you used to be.

But he doesn't look deeper, doesn't dip below the surface of that pretty ocean blue.

He never does.

“You can't keep him from me forever-”

“I'm not keeping anything! He hasn't even come down this way all week-”

“But he has come down here-?”

“Yeah- but not for you-”

“Just get his ass over here, V-”

“No! Why are you so stubborn? He doesn't want you!”

Ouch. But he's heard worse. From you—to be completely fair, Phil had usually said his own scathing handful of words beforehand. “You don't know that!”

“I understand you two started this shit together, so you assume you've got some weird, cryptic claim over him-”

“-that's not what this is about-”

“But he is his own person, Phillip! You two may have been friends before, but things have changed. You don't own him-”

“It's not like that-!”

“Oh, really? It's not like that?” She's up close and personal now, face to face, mere centimeters away. Huh, Phil never noticed the few inches she had on him. “How is it not? All you talk about is how you deserve to see him-”

“I do!”

“That's not a good enough reason! You can't just say “I do” and expect me to drag him down here. He's a very busy man!”

“You don't understand, V-”

“Then tell me! Help me understand what could possibly earn you the right to deserve seeing the man!”

“Because I fucking love him!” He shouts. “and I deserve to see my fucking boyfriend, for Christ's sake!”

Phil doesn't realize the words that had accidentally tumbled out of his mouth until Venn is pulling back, brown eyes widened in shock.

Oh. Oh shit. Ohhhhh shit.

You were going to kill him.

Seriously this time. Phil was a dead man.

“You-” she stutters. “Him- what. I- huh??”

“Shit- V-” Phil rushes closer, hands fidgety and hovering awkwardly around Venn as if wanting to grasp hold of her shoulders. He backs off and opts to pace the same nine foot strip of carpet instead, hands fisting into his hair. Tugging a bit here and there until he manages to settle enough to cross his arms instead.

Still pacing, pulse jumping.

“You can't tell him I let it slip, alright?”

One dark eyebrow raised, she asks, “Why not?” and rightfully so. Phil probably looked like he was losing his damn mind right now.

“Because-” because he had never said it before. Had never had the courage to admit it. To name what he had with you. What he wanted with you.

Because despite that so clearly being what you wanted from him, written so openly on your face when you looked at him. The most obvious you ever had been, about anything—and it was him who caused that.

Still, he had never put a label to it.

“Because he doesn't need to know.”

“Bullshit.” Venn scoffs, curiosity now flipped back to protective anger.

“It's not that big of a deal-”

“If it weren't, you wouldn't be acting like this. Would you?”

Ah. She had him there.

“Listen, Venn,” he says, voice low, tired. “You don't know Phantom like I do. This won't blow over well if you tell him.”

“I think I know him plenty well...” She says, more so like that of a stubborn child.

“If I get him-” Venn starts, hesitating. For a moment Phil thinks she's going to give him some big speech about not doing anything, blah blah blah, or she'll send him to an early grave or whatever. She exhales deeply through her nose, shutting her eyes briefly before looking at Phil again.

He doesn't think he's ever seen her look so damn exhausted. Suddenly seeming much more like the grown woman she is, and not the rambunctious teen they usually tease her for behaving like—all in good fun, of course.

“Just..” she trails again, as if weighing her options on whether to tell him or not. “Be.. gentle.. with him. He's not–not the man you used to know. He's.. changed.”

He had figured that much, but Phil surprises even himself when he utters an, almost soft, “okay.”

Venn gives him the barest hint of a smile before dropping the expression entirely, a far away look in those dark brown hues.

After a moment of silence, she turns to walk away. Appearing unable to even gather the energy to speak a goodbye, the door shutting inaudibly behind her; Phil can't even blame her for that one. Seems he wasn't the only one to pick up on your odd behavior, and he had only spoken to you once since his return.

He wonders what you had been all this time with no one to report to, under zero supervision—then he considers that he may not want the answer.

Masterpost | One | Two | Three | Next

@cptg00s3 @ruthgrimxiao @20nerd04-blog @gloma08 @mikahrh @in-down @hauntedapplefarm @mello-life69 @unkn0wnd3ad @tayaisback @starre-eyes @gabbvr-dog @suhmie @lazyrel @spiritsofthedead @yeonpm @its-ares @k1ssesofdeath @ravagerdogz @embry-garrick

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#call of duty #cod x male reader #male reader #call of duty x male reader #call of duty x reader #reader insert #gay #phillip graves x male reader #graves x male reader #phillip graves

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abbyromanoff · 8 months

Note

I was wondering if you could do a follow-up to Ms.Thornhill x Reader. Where reader is pregnant and things are going great until they are in their 2nd trimester. Reader finds out who Ms. Thornhill is, reader goes mama bear on her and gives her an ultimatum it's either me and the baby or your stupid revenge.

PLEASE DONT GO

PAIRINGS: Marilyn Thornhill x reader

WORD COUNT: 858

WARNINGS: angst, no happy ending, betrayal, pregnant!R, that’s really like it lol

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

Throughout the entire pregnancy, Marilyn had been there by your side, keeping you safe and happy. And at first, you believed there could be nothing more to wish for. It was magical, your family was finally coming together in a loving formation.

You almost could’ve praised the woman for her skills in hiding this persona from you, but you were surrounded entirely by hatred and disbelief. How could she do this? How could she betray the one true person she’s ever loved? You didn��t know, but you did know that there was no possibility that you would raise your child in the same proximity as that woman.

“Y/N? Love, you in here?” The woman began ranting about her day mindlessly, only stopping when she reached the bedroom where you sat with a packed suitcase, your limp body too weak to stand. You were crying as you admired the framed photo you two had, and her eyes instantly widened as her movements to rid the jacket from her body fell still.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” She kneeled in front of you, taking your chin in her fingers in hopes that it would soothe you, but you only leaned away.

“What’s going on?” She asked in disbelief, gulping nervously when you set the frame in her hands. She took it, and she was unable to stop the grin that appeared when seeing your large smile from her lips planting onto your cheek.

“I know everything, Marilyn.” You spoke, causing her eyebrows to raise in curiosity.

“What- what do you mean?”

“I know about your plans, I know about your family, I know why you came to this school in the first place.” She stood suddenly, and you refused to meet her eyes that looked down upon you.

“You plan to destroy all of this, don’t you? And Wednesday, you plan to kill her, as well?” Her scowl grew at the mention, and she quickly shut you down with a huff.

“That is none of your business-“

“Oh, really? I am carrying your fucking child, Marilyn, and soon I’ll be holding them in my arms. You are the mother to my child, and you believe it is not my business to care? I’m not going to raise a child with a monster.”

“I am not a monster, Y/N, I am doing what I am meant to do.”

“You’re meant to destroy our family? You’re meant to kill a teenager because your family said so?” She bit her lip as you stood alongside her, glaring as you held your ground. You weren’t afraid, you felt the rage and sadness helping you as your face came close to hers.

“Listen, I don’t want to hurt you, and I won’t. You just need to trust me.” You shook your head, and your throat tightened as tears threatened to revisit. You didn’t want her to see you cry, she didn’t deserve that glory.

“No, I can’t, Marilyn. Time and time again I have questioned you and you have lied to me, you told me there was nothing to worry about. But, guess what, there was. Why couldn’t you just tell me, Mar, why couldn’t you just tell me the truth?” You held your head in your hands, and the silence seemed to be deafening. When she refused to speak, you gained the courage to grab the handle of your suitcase, bringing it close to your body as you tried pushing past her. She stood in your way, her glasses on her nose as her vision became blurred. She placed a hand against your waist, and while it was not restricting, it felt like you could no longer move.

“Let me go.”

“I can’t, Y/N.”

“I can’t be here, I need to leave.”

“You need to be with me, baby, you love me.”

“And do you love me?” Her lips parted, her eyebrows furrowing as she positioned herself to stand in front of your form. “Or am I just some part of your sick plan?”

“I love you, I always have; I don’t think I can ever stop.”

“You’re lying, Marilyn.”

“I would never lie to you, Y/N.” Although she had, she refused to admit it. She didn’t want to lose the trust she knew she had most likely already lost, so she was desperate to keep you by her side.

“I can’t even believe that! Please, just let me go.” You paused, gulping down your sorrows and sniffling quietly. “I won’t tell anyone anything, if someone asks why we separated I’ll tell them we decided it was best for the child, okay? But I am not letting you anywhere near my baby, not until you get your shit fixed. But for now, I need you to let me go.” Silence filled the room as you approached the door, your hand colliding with the knob as you struggled to turn it. And once you did, it felt as though waves crashed through both you and Marilyn’s hearts.

“I love you both, Y/N, and I’m going to make this right. We’re going to be a family again.”

“I know, but it’s best that we aren’t right now.”

#marilyn thornhill angst #marilyn thornhill x reader fluff #marilyn thornhill fluff #marilyn thornhill x reader angst #marilyn thornhill smut #marilyn thornhill x reader smut #marilyn thornhill x reader #marilyn thornhill #wednesday series #wednesday

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starcrossedxwriter · 1 year

Text

Built for Love Part 11 (MBJ x Famous Black OC)

Warnings: a bit of angst, lots of fluff, NSFW

A/N: I don't wanna give a single thing away about this chapter so I'm just gonna say enjoy!

“What are you doing outta bed?” Michael paused scrambling eggs on the stove to throw her a glance that matched the exasperation and annoyance in his tone. “I told you I’d bring it to you.”

Charlotte’s slippers made scuffing noises across the hardwood floor as she made her way to the kitchen island.

“Thank you but you’ve sequestered me in that bed since Saturday and I didn’t fight you on it once. It’s Wednesday and if I lay there for one more second, I was gonna lose my mind. I’ve slept enough for a lifetime.” She glanced down at the kitchen island, heavy laden with breakfast. She spied breakfast potatoes, bacon, sausage, fruit, and biscuits. “Now who is all this food for??”

“You,” he responded simply. “You needed sleep and now you need calories. You’ve been losing weight since we moved here and that stops now.”

Charlotte could not deny that was true. It was unintentional but her soft curves had certainly lost much of their curviness since she moved to New York. She was not at her skinniest by any means, but the rigorous performances and practices, her regular workout routine, and the stress caused the pounds to shed without her even realizing it.

She popped a piece of cantaloupe in her mouth as she walked up to him. “This is very sweet and everything smells delicious. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now go sit.”

Charlotte moaned. Dr. Jordan was the strictest fake doctor she had ever met in her life. He barely gave her a chance to stand and stretch her legs.

“Babeeeee,” she whined, wrapping her arms around his midsection. Her forehead rested on his back. “I can stand for a few minutes. He fucked up my upper body, my legs still work just fine.”

“You need to rest and relax, Charlotte. Damn,” he muttered under his breath. “Worst patient I’ve ever seen.”

“How many girls have you nursed back to health from near death, babe? Damn, I thought I was your first for once,” she joked. However, when it fell flat, she grimaced. “Too soon?”

“Wayyyy too soon, baby. How’re you feeling?”

“Fi-” she started to say but remembered her promise. It included this. She pressed her lips to his back, his taunt and bare muscles flexing at her touch.“B-better. Nightmares weren’t so bad last night… just a couple so that’s progress… torturously slow progress,” she added. “And I made an appointment with my old therapist. We’re gonna do virtual sessions till I get back to LA.”

Michael turned from the stove, still in the grip of her arms, to face her. He gave her an encouraging smile. “That’s great, Els.” He was proud of her, he knew how hard that was… that she likely felt as if she was backtracking or starting over. “Why didn’t you wake me last night?”

“You need to sleep too, Dr. Jordan. All this taking care of and fussing over me, I know you’re not resting.”

“I’ll rest when those heal.” He lifted her chin lightly to look at the bruising on her neck. He knew they would get worse before they got better but his eyes glazed over with rage every time he looked at her bruises, particularly the ones around her neck. He could make out exactly where his hands were, a temporary brand to what he tried to do.

Charlotte rubbed his arm, an attempt to soothe the brewing emotions she could feel inside him. She always admired his emotional intelligence, how he was able to reign in his emotions and rage even when he so clearly wanted to find the nearest punching bag or Shaun’s face and have at it. “I’ve had worse. It always looks way worse than it feels. Well, that’s not true. The first day, it felt worse than it looked. But it’s not too bad now. I promise. And I’d rather you rest now. I really am ok.”

Despite her assurances, she could tell he did not believe her. She sighed, wondering when she would earn his trust again. That was honestly the hardest part in all this for her, knowing that her actions had caused her to lose it in the first place.

“How long is it gonna take for you to trust me when I say that again?” She asked quietly. She wasn’t angry, there were consequences to her actions and this was one of them. But it did break her heart. She hated the idea that he did not trust her words. This was their first real issue as a couple, the first time she had to contend with them not being on the same page.

Michael sighed, his hand going to scratch the scruff of his beard for a moment. “It’s not a question of trust, Els. Because I do trust you. And I’m not tryin’ to hold this against you. But this taught me that for better or worse, your default is to deal with your shit alone. To hide and, if needed, lie to avoid bothering or worrying other people. And I get it, I understand why. But I won’t lie and pretend like this shit didn’t shake me up a lot. Being stuck in LA knowing something wasn’t right even though you promised it was. Seeing you after the show shaken and scared and not knowing why… seeing you nearly dead on the floor when I was one room over. That ain’t shit I’m gonna get outta my head anytime soon. When you say you’re good, I wanna know that’s true. But I also know it’s gonna take a lot more than a promise and a few days for that to happen. You gotta work on trusting me with your problems and your pain and that shit takes time. And in the meantime, I’m gonna work on taking you at your word but I might also just need… some reassurances that you’re really ok.”

She understood why Michael was being so protective. She could tell he still felt guilty, though he shouldn’t, about not being there to protect her in the first place. And now, he acted as if she needed to be wrapped in bubble wrap at all times. He barely let her out of his sight and if it was not an absolute necessity, he barely let her out of bed. She understood the impulse. If it made him feel better to fuss, she would not deny herself or him that.

“I understand. I didn’t think about how all of that would affect you… scare you. And I am sorry. Whatever reassurances you need and fussing you wanna do for as long as you wanna do it, I won’t fight you on it. Promise.”

“Thank you.” He kissed her nose, her face scrunching up a bit. “How’s the pain?”

“Manageable. Head is still pounding, everything’s a bit stiff but I feel like I can get up and move around a bit. Or at least move from the bed to the couch for a change of scenery. Maybe convince the best and sexiest doctor in New York to take me on a walk after breakfast so I can breathe some fresh air?”

He eyed her suspiciously. “You sure you're up for that?”

“Probably not up for a long one,” she admitted. “But even if it’s just 10 minutes… the cameras and reporters have finally moved on to bothering someone else. We could escape for a bit. I’m going a little stir crazy, Bakari.”

“Fine. Just for a bit then Avengers on the couch?”

“Thank youuuu.”

She ate quickly, finishing two plates at Michael’s insistence.

As they went into their bedroom to change, she raised an eyebrow in shock as Michael handed her one of his favorite sweaters. She had stolen quite a lot of his clothes in the last few months, in which they basically became her clothes and he never saw them again. However, this coveted sweater had always been out of her grasp. He had always made it clear it was one of the few items that were off limits because he knew he’d never get it back. However, she had tried it on one or twice when he wasn’t home and it was like wearing a cloud, so insanely soft.

“Wow… so this whole time all I needed to do was almost die to get this?? Chile, I would’ve done that months ago to get this sweater,” she joked. Though she could see the corner of his mouth twitch, he did not laugh. “Still too soon?”

“If it was too soon 20 minutes ago, it still is, Els.”

“Sorry, Jackson wasn’t a fan of my dark humor about dying the first time either. But it helps to find some humor in it… somewhere. And you gotta admit, it is kinda funny…” She remarked as she pulled on a pair of leggings. They still had to bundle up, one thing Charlotte did miss about LA was the perfect weather year around.

“Ain’t a single humorous thing about any of this, babe.”

“I dunno… I mean no, it isn’t funny. But also, it’s kinda crazy… Since I met him, Shaun’s gone out his way to try to kill me twice… and each time, I’ve survived. Like he is really bad at murder… terrible. I mean, not complaining… Thank God for it. But I would just stop trying if I was 0/2 with the same person, you know? That’s embarrassing??” That did make a small chuckle escape Michael’s lips. “See!! It is kinda funny when you actually think about it.”

“I’m ignoring you,” he called as he went into the closet to pull out their winter coats, baseball caps, and shades. Thankfully, the press and paparazzi surrounding their building had started to dissipate. They had gotten a couple glimpses of her family and Michael coming and going but none of her, thankfully. That was the only thing that would have made this whole ordeal worse, her bruised and battered form thrown across the front page of every newspaper. She knew it was still a possibility, pictures of her injuries from the hospital could leak. The downside of fame, nothing was truly private.

She shrugged as he helped her pull on her coat.

“I’m just saying he’s bad at killing or I am just that good at surviving,” she muttered. “Maybe they should cast me in Black Panther too?” At his confused stare, she smiled. “Cause I clearly have 9 lives like a cat? I could be like your sexy evil accomplice… The Golden Cheetah?”

That did make him laugh for the first time in several days. His hands grabbed her jacket to pull her close to him. “I’ll talk to Ryan about it, how about that?”

“That’s all I ask.” She stretched on her tiptoes to kiss him before he took her hand to lead them outside.

Their walk did not last too long as Michael knew it would not. Not because Charlotte was not up for it but because neither of them wanted to be out in the cold long. But she still appreciated his willingness to acquiesce to her small request. A walk was really the only public thing she cared to do, at least, until all the bruises faded. And she did appreciate the activity, she wanted to keep her limbs from going too stiff. She’d be back on stage next week, the one thing she did have to fight Michael on. Chris was on the verge of an ulcer every day she was out. He called to check on her everyday. She knew he actually cared about her but she also knew he wanted his leading lady back… ASAP. She already felt guilty ruining his opening night, the least she could do is not send him to the hospital from the stress.

But Michael did not push back too much once she promised to have security with her, given that Shaun was officially out on bail. Restraining order or not, she and Michael were not interested in testing whether Shaun would adhere to it. She let Michael pick and vet the guy, who came highly recommended.cHis accolades included knowing more than an acceptable amount of ways to kill someone with his bare hands so she could not deny she would feel more safe in his presence. And the theater security and box office had been alerted and prepped to ensure her ex did not step foot on the premises again. And he no longer, thankfully, even had a legitimate reason to, Chris letting her know he had been fired from his investment firm immediately after the news broke.

Charlotte knew she would not know real peace or be able to fully move on until he was behind bars, which the DA warned could take a year given the docket unless he accepted a plea. But she would accept the small wins and forms of justice that she could get, she knew it was far more than many in her position would ever see.

As she pulled her outer layers and hat off, she got a glimpse of her hair in the mirror.

“Ugh.”

“What?”

“My hair… How can you stand to look at me like this? I look like a troll doll. I’m gonna have to go to the salon or pay someone to come and wash it. I look crusty as hell.”

“How about we relax in the bath and I’ll wash it for you?”

Her face lit up. She remembered when they talked about a similar scene in Creed, the intimacy of helping Bianca do her hair. Her heart swelled at the idea of recreating such a moment. The role of victim and caregiver over the last few days had stripped a layer of emotional intimacy the pair was accustomed to. She knew it would come back eventually but she hoped, perhaps, this small act would speed things up a bit.

“Really?”

He gestured toward the bedroom, taking her hand to get ready for the tub.

Soon, she found herself resting against Michael’s chest in the bath, bubbles surrounding both of them. He did all the work, his fingertips softly massaging shampoo and conditioner in her tresses, Charlotte could’ve fallen to sleep right there.

“Can I ask you something?” Her soft voice breaking the silence between them as Michael worked diligently and carefully to avoid causing her pain. It had been on her mind since they got home, stationed at the forefront for the hours and hours she spent resting or recovering in his arms. Several days removed, the shock had worn off for both of them, she felt like enough time had passed to finally talk about things unrelated to what happened or her safety. They could talk about the future, one she prayed to God she did not completely destroy.

“Shoot.” He took note of the nervousness in her voice. He did not know what she could be about to ask him, what could cause her to be nervous. He was an open book.

“At the hospital… you said you wanted to marry me…” her voice grew quiet, one of her legs drawing into her chest. “Did you mean that? Do you still mean that? Or was it just, you know, you caught up in the emotion of everything?”

His massaging stilled for a moment before he answered, “Yes, yes, and no.” Simple and to the point as he resumed his task.

He could feel her body relax against him again at his answers.

“You don’t wanna elaborate on any of those answers?”

He laughed. “Nah cause it’s pretty cut and dry to me. I’m pretty set on spending the rest of my life with you.”

And that was not him just trying to assure her, it was the truth. He knew in his soul Charlotte was the end game for him well before they went on their first date. He had just been waiting for her to catch on. And once she did, every step he had taken since, including this move to New York, was with the intention of spending every day of the rest of his life with her.

“Even after all this? After I lied to you?”

Michael knew she still felt guilty. Between the two of them, there was much guilt to go around in their household over the last 72 hours. Some of it was fair and some of it was not. But just as he was trying to work through his own guilt, he did not want Charlotte to continue to hold onto hers when he had forgiven her.

“Els, I meant it when I said I forgive you. And when I say somethin’, I mean that shit. Stop beating yourself up over it. I’ve loved you since the moment you walked into the studio for our screen test. And I’ve just fell more and more in love with you with every passing day. All of this changed nothing for me, except reminding me that whatever time we have together, I don’t wanna waste it.”

Her hands played in the tall bubbles of the bath as she contemplated his words.

“That been on your mind since I said it?”

“Yea,” she admitted. “You know, all my time in bed gave me lots of time to ruminate,” she chuckled lightly. “It’s just… I mean we just have never talked about marriage a-and the long-term stuff. I mean and I get it, we haven’t even been together a year. But w-when you said that, it made me really happy because I feel the same about you. B-But then I just… you know, obsessed over it for the last three days wondering if all this changed your mind or made you question whether I’m the person you wanna spend the rest of your life with.”

“Nah, I would’ve married you after our first date if I could’ve.”

Charlotte chuckled and shook her head, small droplets of water spraying everywhere. “We would’ve been skipping about 10 steps there. I want a proposal,” she laughed. “Knowing you, it’ll be something sentimental that makes me break down in tears.”

Thank God she could not see the giant smirk that fell on his face.

“And a big wedding, I assume?”

Charlotte tilted her head as if to contemplate. She knew he expected the answer to be yes, after all most girls dream of a grand wedding. But that had never been her. “Honestly? I was never the girl to dream about the big princess wedding… just the prince,” she teased.

Michael ran a comb through a section of hair, working to detangle it. He was trying to be as gentle as possible, knowing her head still hurt, which meant the whole endeavor took longer than it should have.

“Am I living up to the childhood fantasy?” He asked.

“My wildest dreams couldn’t have conjured you up.”

“I aim to please.” He kissed her shoulder.

“I don’t even really care about planning it. I had to endure J and Lauren’s wedding planning and whew… miserableeee. And they couldn’t even enjoy the day that much. I dunno, I don’t want to be more worried about whether some elaborate affair is going according to plan instead of actually enjoying my wedding day? I wanna be celebrating our love and the first day of our life together. I mean yea, I want a wedding of some sort but it could have 25 people in your backyard. As long as I’m in a drop dead gorgeous dress and you’re waiting on me at the end of the aisle, I honestly don’t need or care about anything else. I’d be fine with a big one if you want one but someone else’s gotta plan it.”

“I’ve never put much thought into my wedding so you won’t get much argument outta me. I would push back on the backyard thing though. Maybe a small destination wedding or a small venue in LA, something like that.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“Speaking of destinations,” he mentioned, shifting gears of the conversation. If they went too much farther down this road, Michael would find a wedding planner to plan a small intimate ceremony for next week. “I think we’ll both finally have some time off in September when you finish here. Let me take you on a trip.”

“Oooo you tryin’ to fly ya girl out?” Michael rolled his eyes at her antics. “Where would you want to go?”

Michael immediately shook his head. His sweet girl was the opposite of decisive. She would let Michael make every decision if she could. And this time, he wanted to go where she wanted to go.

“Nahhh ma, it isn’t to celebrate me. It’s for you. Where do you want to go?”

“It should also be to celebrate us both… a bit delayed sure but we never really did anything to celebrate Creed. That’s your first big leading man blockbuster.” She flipped the script on him.

“Fine, it can be to celebrate us both but you still need to pick.”

“I really hate you,” she laughed. “Well, at least, help me narrow it down. What kind of vacation vibe would you want?”

“Preferably somewhere relaxing where I can have you naked or only in a bikini for most of the trip.”

She could not hide the sly grin on her face at his words, the heat that rose throughout her entire body. She forced the feeling to dampen. They had not had sex yet and given how the other night went, she imagined Michael would pump the brakes again. She understood, but she did not want to deal with the rejection again.

“The Caribbean is an option but September is dead in the middle of hurricane season, so we’d have to be ok with it being canceled potentially.” Michael smiled, he was never one to consider weather patterns before traveling. He barely checked the weather before he stepped outside each day. But of course, Charlotte would think about that. “We could do something like a spot along the Mediterranean? Or something like that. I’ve been wanting to go back to the Amalfi Coast but maybe we should go somewhere we both haven’t been?”

He learned something new about his girl every day. “When did you go there?”

“My first birthday after Shaun… My family surprised me with a vacation there. I had spent most of that whole first year miserable and in bed. The first six months were the hardest. But by the time my birthday came around, I was starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel but still wasn’t there. I was in therapy and still struggling to find me in all of it? And I was just really depressed so the trip was supposed to cheer me up a bit. Lauren, Jazz, one of our other friends, Chelsea, and I all went. And we had a ball,” Michael could feel her entire body light up as she spoke, as if the mere memories of that trip were fuel and power.

“We just ate and drank and ate some more and swam and went on boat rides and just… lived. God, it was the first time I felt uninhibited happiness and relaxation in years. It was kinda my Eat, Pray, Love moment as corny as that is,” she admitted. “One morning, I got up super early and went down to the beach by myself while we were in this town, Ravello. I had this necklace he gave me for my last birthday. Hideous, gaudy silver thing I’d never pick or wear myself. But I couldn’t let it go and clung to that stupid thing since the break up. Anyway, I watched the sun rise and I realized that I’d never be me again. The me before him was dead and gone. But I also realized that maybe that wasn’t a bad thing? Cause the me before him needed that necklace as proof that someone loved me, no matter how hideous and awful that love was. The me before him and during him needed any type of love, no matter the cost of it. And that part of me needed to die. So, instead of trying to resurrect the old me, I decided I would reconnect with the things that made me happy and forge something new. And then I ran into the water and tossed that terrible necklace into the sea. And then I regretted polluting the sea with something that was definitely not biodegradable,” Michael’s deep baritone filled her ears with laughter. “So long way of saying, it just represents new beginnings to me in some way. So even if we don’t go this time around, I’d want to go back with you at some point. But I’d honestly be fine with anywhere as long as I’m with you. So why don’t you just surprise me?”

“Fine. Don’t think I don’t realize you’re using my love of surprises against me.”

She turned and winked at him before he helped her stand and get in the shower to effectively rinse out all of the products. Their afternoon of hair styling continued as she sat between his legs on the couch, Avengers playing on the tv as he moisturized and styled her hair. She savored the help, she hated dealing with her mane of hair. And the intimacy it had created was exactly as she had hoped. And he did an excellent job. Though she could tell his arms were exhausted by the time he finished tying her scarf around her clean and moisturized curls and coils into a pineapple on the top of her head.

“You could’ve been a hairstylist in another life.”

“You didn’t tell me it was such a work out. Boxing didn’t hurt my arms this much,” he laughed.

“Well when you’re prepping for Creed 2 and wanna help me with my hair for extra arm training, let me know. I quite enjoyed not dealing with it for once.”

Her injuries made it difficult to cuddle on the couch as they wanted so Charlotte laid with her head on his lap, his hand resting on her arm as they watched the movie.

“Can I ask you something?” This time it was Michael’s turn, a question that had been on his mind for longer than a few days. He did not know if now was the right time or if there’d ever be a right time. And he did not expect an answer but he wanted her to know he would listen if she was ready to ever share it.

“Of course.”

“And you don’t gotta answer if you don’t want to. But you never told me… what made you finally decide to leave? Was it whatever you dreamed about that night you got sick?”

Charlotte’s eyes clenched shut. It was always a delicate balance. What of Shaun’s brutality to share and what not to. But she knew this was one of those things, the things she needed to learn to trust Michael specifically with. He was home and home was where you could bare it all… your whole soul. He asked and she would answer, no more hiding.

“There’s a lot I haven’t told you about him. I mean a lot of it was the same old same. But somethings, I said I’d never tell anyone, Jackson, Lauren… even you. A-and that nightmare, it was bad, don’t get me wrong. Definitely made the ‘the CIA couldn’t get this out of me,’ shortlist. But the breaking point was, he saw me talking to a reporter after a show one night and thought I was cheating, God he accused me of cheating like twice a week, which just made me so upset. We argued all the way home. He asked me if I wanted to leave him a-and in my frustration and anger, I told him he wasn’t giving me many reasons to stay. Looking back, it was a real stupid thing to say, like pouring gasoline on a fire. But I w-was just so tired, tired of feeling like I was killing myself every day to be perfect and love him and getting so much pain thrown back at me. When we got home, he beat me. T-that wasn’t the bad part, that was par for the course. But then… he dragged me out onto our 11th story balcony. He picked me up and threatened to throw me off until I swore I’d never leave.”

She watched as his entire body stiffened, his fists clenching with anger. She wanted to offer him some assurance, something to ease the feelings that brewed but there was not really anything that could be said. That story and her life just were what they were, upsetting and enraging and all.

“He played God with my life for a few minutes, though it felt like an eternity, my body balancing on the railing like a rag doll with only him holding me there. There was one point, I tipped so far back, I actually thought he had let go and I s-saw my whole life flash before my eyes. I always thought people were being dramatic when they said that. But it’s true. Like a movie in fast forward and all I saw was every mistake that led me to that moment. When he was satisfied that I had begged for my life enough, he let me down and drug me back inside to finish the night. He knew I didn’t have much fight left in me after that,” she whispered, her hand wiping a tear. “Ugh,” she could not contain the groan of frustration at her own emotions. She hated that he still had this effect on her. “I don’t know why I’m crying over this o-old shit,” she shook her head. “He doesn’t deserve it. A-anyway, I decided that the next day that I had to leave or I’d d-die. I made a p-plan and left a week later.”

“I’m sorry, honeybee.” There were no other words he could offer, though those sounded inadequate in the space. With every story she told him, he felt like a layer of the complex onion that was her peeled back. “I should’ve killed him,” he muttered, more to himself than to her. And it was true. The fact that he still drew breath was enraging, another thing he felt guilty for. For not ending the monster that haunted her.

Charlotte reached over and grabbed his hand, their fingers interlocking. “Your soul is too good to be tainted by him. Besides, you did quite a number on him from what I heard. I didn’t know you had hands like that in real life, baby Creed,” she teased, thankful her joke caused a small smile to grace his features. “God, I wish I could’ve seen it… Saying that makes me feel like a terrible person,” her head fell into her hand, propped up against the back of the couch. “But j-just to see him, for once, feel a fraction of what I felt. Feels like a bit of justice for it all.”

“That doesn’t make you a terrible person. You’re far from a terrible person. If he dropped dead tomorrow, you would be justified if you threw a damn party. Hell, I would throw a party and I only met him once. You’re allowed to want justice for all of it.”

“Thanks.” She shifted, bringing her feet under her. “You know what’s crazy about it? I always regretted him… Regretted meeting him, agreeing to that first date, staying through all of that. B-but the last couple days, I’ve been thinking about my life right now… the last few months are the first time that I’ve felt like I was at home, like I know who I am and my soul is at peace. It’s pretty damn good. A little damaged around the edges, sure, but still so amazing that… If I had to go back and do it all again, I know in my soul I-I’d walk that same jagged path through all the pain, a-and landmines, and everything else if it was what I needed to do to end up here again, if it meant I would find home again.”

“And where’s home?” his voice was quiet as if he was worried the answer would not be what he expected, as if he were afraid to hear it.

Charlotte tilted her head to study him, her hand going to cup his cheek, the scruff of his beard tickling her palm.

“You.”

Waves of guilt crashed over him, causing a tear to fall. The first one he had shed since the hospital. Charlotte whisked it away with her thumb.

“Not feelin’ like I deserve that right now. You were in trouble and I didn’t even see it till it was too late. I never should’ve left you here. I couldn’t even keep you safe. What kinda fuckin’ home is that?”

The guilt in his voice broke her heart. She moved, slowly and stiffly, but moved to slide into his lap. Her hands rested on his shoulders as she looked at him.

“Look at me.” It was her turn to demand as he so often did, demand that he overcome the guilt and shame that forced his eyes away from hers. She knew it was difficult, had struggled to find his eyes too many times for fear she would see confirmation of her guilt, her shame, her unworthiness. But it was never there and he would not find that in her eyes today either.

“Every single time I’ve ever needed you, you were right on time. This was no exception. The truth is, you’ve been keeping me safe since the day I met you. I was so lost before I met you. I-I had healed my heart a-and my mind and my body as best I could. But my soul, I had vowed never to let someone so close to it again, had boarded it up with walls so high it would be impossible to let someone in again. To let someone see me again. And that was fuckin’ lonely,” she admitted. “A-and exhausting to force myself to keep my guards up like that, to deny everything I’d always wanted… a partner who saw me in my entirety and loved me for all of it. But I did it b-because it w-was better than the alternative. A-And then I met you. And you instantly knew the me I hid from everyone, you knew my soul and what it needed to finally mend. And you slowly but surely broke down every wall and barrier I had fought so hard to keep up so you could ensure I got what I needed, a safe place to land. And every day since, you’ve seen my soul in its entirety, all its light and darkness, its hopes and fears, its permanently damaged pieces and those that’ve healed. And you’ve loved me beyond my wildest dreams for it all. You are my peace and my solace and my safety every moment… that is the best home I could’ve ever hoped for.”

She wiped her tears that fell before offering. “He w-wanted me to deny t-that. Before he…” she lifted her own eyes to the ceiling as she re-lived that moment. “Told me it was him or no one, wanted me to tell him I would c-choose him. And I couldn’t. It’s insane,” she acknowledged. “And I knew you’d p-probably tell me just to lie to save myself. But I couldn’t deny what I’ve known to be true since we kissed in your apartment in Philly. You are it for me. You are my choice every day, every time, no matter.”

His lips crashed against hers, his arms wrapping around her tightly to pull her into his chest. Michael knew the depths of Charlotte’s love for him without a doubt. And he loved receiving a tear-inducing speech about it as much as he enjoyed doling them out on her. However, to know that, even in what could’ve been her last moments, she chose to love him loudly and unapologetically, hit his soul harder than he had ever experienced before.

No more words passed between them, each touch was a silent declaration of love between them that they did not have the words to capture. The day had laid them both bare in a way they had never experienced before or expected. And it was not their trauma guiding them, it was pure love. A desire and need to connect mind, body, and soul.

“You want… need me to stop?” He whispered as she sucked on the soft skin of his neck. In his heart, he knew the answer before the words left his mouth. He could tell in her movements that stopping would be near impossible this time. But he had to check, had to double check before they went down this road.

She immediately shook her head. Charlotte’s brain was mush, a complete fog of desire, need, and pleasure as she kissed every inch of exposed skin she could find. She had never yearned for a person as much as she yearned for the man beneath her. She wanted everything, all of him. She knew now, in hindsight, that the first night, she had wanted him for all the wrong reasons. And she was grateful that he, once again, saved her from herself. But now, in this moment, she wanted to feel him, feel his gentle touch and caress, and savor every moment of his love for her. And she wanted him to feel her, not her brokenness and fear, but the life pumping through her veins, the love she held for him, that he was her choice.

“No,” she whispered back, he was thankful to hear that word leave her lips. “Do you wanna stop?”

“Not this time.”

“Good.”

Michael immediately wrapped his hands behind her thighs and hoisted her up to carry her into their bedroom. She let him guide her to their bed, laying her down gently as he removed both of their clothes. Charlotte instinctively wanted to shrink up and cover herself, hyper aware of the bruises that littered her form.

Sensing her thoughts, Michael immediately leaned over her and started to press his lips to each one, gentle and lingering kisses on every cut, scrap, and bruise that sent jolts of electricity through her form. A silent but touching reminder that she survived and told her he did not care how they looked. He worked his way down her body slowly but this time it was not the usual teasing he liked to do. He simply wanted to savor every second of it.

He handled her with such care, as if she were perfectly sculpted glass that would shatter if he pushed too hard, too fast. She was not fragile, he knew that. She was strong and powerful. But her wounds were fresh. Fresh enough that he used every moment to assure her that his touch was different, would never hurt her as he had, and would never treat her body and soul with such pain and callousness. It had taken great restraint not to taste her or bury himself inside her the last few days, to be as close to her as he could, feel the life pumping in her veins. But she needed time and so did he, to reckon with what they both almost lost.

He could feel the frenzy beneath him as he worked, her body writhing with silent pleas that begged for more. But he did not want to rush. He remembered their first time, slow and measured as he took her apart piece by piece. He understood the impulse to rush but they had time, he kept reminding himself. Time with each other.

He returned to her lips, a quiet directive to slow down landing on her ears.

“Slow down, baby,” he muttered, “Slow down.” Their foreheads rested against each other as he forced her to take a breath.

“I need…” her words trailed off as she whimpered, her fingers twisted in the soft fabric of his t-shirt as if he’d turn to dust before her eyes if she let go of him. Her eyes searched his for understanding, that he knew exactly what she so desperately needed.

“I know, I know.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek, her head leaning into it to find his lips again. “Hey, hey. Look at me.” Their eyes connected, brimming with tears as she took in his undying love for her. “We’re both here, safe and sound, and no one’s going anywhere. I promise. Let me take care of you.”

At her nods, he resumed his touching until he found himself at the treasure trove between her thighs, her flower dripping and begging to be touched by the man she loved. And that was all he needed as he spread her legs and wrapped his lips around her bud.

Charlotte’s back immediately arched off the bed as he feasted on her. It had only been days but she had missed the feeling of his tongue on her and inside her. He spelled out his love for her in gentle caresses that made her head spin.

She melted against his mouth like chocolate, her cries of pleasure crescendoing with every movement of his skilled tongue.

“That’s it baby, let me hear you.” He slid two fingers inside of her, increasing the sensations that already threatened to overwhelm her.

Charlotte felt as if her body was in overdrive. Her hips rocked to meet every thrust of his hand, her thighs clamped around his head as he feasted on her. It did not matter how many times his mouth found its way to her core, he managed to reduce her to a mewling puddle begging for more, every time.

And usually, she let him stay between her thighs as long as he wanted, pulling out as many climaxes as he could. But this time, she needed more. She knew he wanted to take his time, take her apart and put her back together. But she could not wait. Her soul could not wait. She needed to feel him inside her. So much had been taken from her, so much had left her feeling empty in this life until Michael. Michael filled her up where her past and present trauma only drained her. And right now, she wanted to be filled. The emptiness ached and she wanted to be filled to the brim and overflow.

She pulled him from between her thighs, bringing his lips to hers. She relished in the taste of herself but only for a moment before she whispered.

“I need you. Inside me. I c-can’t… can’t wait,” she panted. “W-we have all night b-but I need to feel you now.”

He acquiesced, the vulnerability in her voice more than enough to forgo his original plan.

He kept her eyes on his as he thrust inside of her slowly. Charlotte moaned at the delicious stretch he always provided. Months, it had been months since she first felt that stretch and it still caused a gasp to escape her lips, her eyes to see stars, and every thought in her head to shatter.

“J-Just like that,” she whimpered, all her senses squarely focused on him and the pleasure he graciously provided. All she could feel was the sparks of bliss at the end of every stroke and the trail of fire that marked where his hands roamed as he explored her body. All she could hear were the symphony of their moans, his deep grunts as he fucked her and her screams of pleasure. All she could see were his brown eyes, a look in them that made her own eyes mist with tears. She did not know why she was crying, whether it be from the intense pleasure or the look in his eye, a look that no man before him had ever given her, a look she would have never deemed herself worthy of. The look of pure love and adoration.

Michael’s hips drove into her over, a primal growl escaping him as her muscles clenched around him repeatedly as he curved into her g-spot, their bodies made for each other. His eyes never left hers with every push forward and retreat.

As he pulled out every trick he could think of to please her, pour his love into her, Michael could not help but think about how he almost lost this. How he almost lost her. He had plans for this insanely beautiful woman beneath… plans to grow old with her, to celebrate every milestone and moment of his life and hers together, to build a life and family with her. And all of it could’ve been gone. He had never experienced this before, a year ago he could not even convince Charlotte to go out on a date with him but now? He could not fathom his life without her. And that brief moment where he had to consider such a life… it had shattered him in ways he never knew a person could be shattered.

“I love you,” his voice shook as tears sprang to his eyes. “Fuck, I love you so much.”

“I-I l-love… you,” she moaned back, her words choppy and broken between her pants and moans.

His mind drifted to the ring that he kept stashed in his bedside table, hidden in a box he knew Charlotte would never bother to open or examine closely. A ring he had started to design the day after that gala, the night she told him about her ex and decided to overcome her fears to choose him.

He knew she did not believe him when he said he had known he wanted to marry her since then. It sounded far-fetched, he recognized, to know that so early. Afterall, his friends called him foolish for designing and buying a ring for a woman who rejected him mere months prior. “Take your time,” they had all cautioned. “Make sure she is what you want.” But Charlotte was the one thing, the only thing, in this universe that he did not need time to consider, that he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he wanted. And he used this moment, every second spent in her sanctuary to show her how deeply his love for her ran, past his mind, past his heart. He loved her with every fiber of his soul.

“You know how beautiful you are?” He asked as he draped her legs over his shoulder and leaned over to rest his forehead against hers. Charlotte gasped at the angle, he had not changed his pace one bit but this position allowed him to reach the depths of her pleasure center. Those tears she had kept in now spilled over as his words filled her heart and he filled her body with every stroke. That ache of emptiness? Gone. She was overflowing. “Do you know how much… I love you?”

She cried out, unable to form real words or thoughts beyond obscenities and his name, which flowed without thought from her lips.

“I’ll spend every day of my life loving you, keeping you safe. There’s nothing in this world I won’t do for you, Els. Nothing. ” His word was punctuated by a particularly deep thrust that turned Charlotte into a babbling mess as she came. “That’s it, baby. Cum for me.”

“More. Harder. Everything you have, please,” her voice was strained, trying to speak while her body calmed down again. She understood his gentleness, appreciated it. But now, she wanted to feel him in the depths of her bones. She was his and she wanted to feel that in every ounce of her being.

Michael helped her flip over onto her stomach, this time instructing her to hold onto the headboard so she did not have to lay on the bed. He allowed her a moment to situate herself in the position he so enjoyed. He still practiced some restraint, refusing to unleash his usual power onto her still healing body. But he loosened the reins just enough to give her what she wanted and needed.

There was nothing slow about how he rammed into her, her body thrusting forward with every delicious slam of his hips into hers. She was thankful he thought of the headboard, giving her the leverage laying face down on the bed would not have and protecting her bruises.

“Yes! Y-Yes! T-thank you,” she moaned out as he fucked her with abandon. She surrendered to the pleasure, her screams bouncing off the walls as he made her cum again and again and again.

He took her in any and every position that would not cause her pain. He buried his face between her legs and feasted off of her before plunging into her again, Charlotte allowing her body to be at his mercy. They had all night and all the time in the world and she wanted him to use every moment of it.

***

When Charlotte stirred again, she glanced over to find Michael sound asleep next to her. It was still dark outside, the clock reading 4:30 am. She laid there for a few moments, letting the soft sounds of Michael’s soft snores fill her ears. She turned and watched him for a few moments, the steady rise and fall of his chest. As she listened to him, the final part of a song she had been writing swelled in her heart. And when the pen called her, she did not dare ignore it. As quietly as she could, she climbed out of their bed and wrapped herself in her robe.

She tiptoed out of their room and into the living room, grabbing her pen and notebook before retreating to the balcony of their apartment. She had rarely been out here, her own fear of them and the frigid New York winters keeping her from enjoying this one feature of their home. But tonight, not even her past or the cold chill could send her back inside. She curled up in a blanket in one of the chairs as she listened to the bustling sounds of the city fill her ears.

It did not matter what time of day it was, New York City was always awake, always moving, always alive. Her lungs breathed in as much of the frigid air as they could before she breathed it back out. She knew she could not stay out there too long, it was freezing. But she also knew this was the only spot her singing would not wake up her sleeping boyfriend.

Baby, the sound of you

Better than a harmony

I want you off my mind

And on me

Holding me closer than we've ever been before

This ain't a dream

You're here with me

Boy, it don't get no better than you

For you, I wanna take my time

All night

She closed her eyes, curled in a small ball, as her siren song filled the night sky though she knew no one but her and God would ever hear it. But that was fine, she preferred it. This was just for her, just for her to commemorate the love she found and was grateful to God for.

I wanna love you in every kind of way

I wanna please you, no matter how long it takes

If the world should end tomorrow and we only have today

I'm gonna love you in every kind of way

Give you all, give you all of me

Her eyes only opened at the faint creaks of a door, surprised to find Michael standing in the doorway of the balcony as she finished the last line. However, as she started to stand and finish singing, he shook his head.

“Don’t stop. I wanna hear you.”

And so she continued, this time, her eyes on his as she finished her song, the second verse she had been struggling with flowing from her lips as if it had lived in her heart all along.

When you need it

'Cause I need it

I wanna fall like your favorite season

I'll never get up

Stay here forever, babe

It don't get no better than this

Your kiss

I wanna love you in every kind of way

I wanna please you, no matter how long it takes

If the world should end tomorrow and we only have today

I'm gonna love you in every kind of way

I wanna love you in every kind of way

I wanna please you, no matter how long it takes

If the world should end tomorrow and we only have today

I'm gonna love you in every kind of way

When she was finished, she sat up in the chair and glanced at him.

“I’m sorry, thought going out here wouldn’t wake you.”

He shook his head. “Bed’s cold without you, went looking for you and heard your voice. Wanted to hear you.”

She smiled. “I’m glad you heard it… it was about you anyway,” she winked. “Back to bed?”

“Umm… before we g-go,” he stammered slightly, Charlotte surprised to find a nervous energy suddenly surrounding him. He was usually so confident and assured, nervous was a rare emotion on him. “I have something for you.” He meandered to the balcony railing, standing directly in front of her before he pulled out the arm that he had bent behind his back, a small black velvet box in his hand.

“You didn’t need to get me anything,” she offered with a small smile. If he had not been so nervous, he would have laughed at how she missed the obvious. The size of the box really only lent itself to one thing and she had not picked up on it yet. “Though I’m sure it’s beautiful.”

He slid the box into her hand, Charlotte expecting to find a necklace or pair of earrings or something small nestled in the luxury box. However, all the wind seemed to knock out of her as she opened to find a sparkling and mesmerizing engagement ring, a giant pear shaped diamond set in the center with elegant but subtle diamonds nestled in the rose gold band around it. It was simple and yet, the most gorgeous ring she had ever seen in her life.

She glanced up from the box to find Michael in front of her on one knee. Every question that rose to her lips immediately vanished, caught in her throat as shock swept all of her senses. Her heart was beating so hard, she wondered if it was possible for it to beat straight out of her chest.

“A-are you serious? I-If this is j-just a dream…” she whispered, her eyes moving to the sky as if she was talking to God.

“N-No, this is real. Charlotte, I’ve loved you since the moment I laid eyes on you. Every day, you love me with your whole being. You support my dreams, however far fetched and foolish they may seem, you push me to be the best man I can be. Not just for you and my family but for myself. With you, I’ve always been right at home. Falling in love with you is both the greatest decision of my life and the easiest one I’ve ever made. And every day, I thank God for bringing you and your beauty, your laugh, your spirit into my life. I don’t know what the future looks like, I don’t know how much time we have with each other. But I know that I want to spend every moment of my life loving you and being loved by you. So, this is me being sentimental and making you break down in tears,” he joked to their earlier conversations. “Charlotte Elsbeth Bennet, will you marry me?”

Charlotte’s breathing was choppy as she took in his words. Tears flowed earnestly as she tried to form a sentence.

“M-Michael… God I love you so much. B-But are you s-sure about this? I k-know with everything that’s happened… W-we haven’t even been together for a year. Are you s-sure I’m what you want?”

“I’ve had this ring for months… I started designing it the day after the gala last summer. I was waiting for the perfect moment, wanting to plan the perfect proposal for you back in LA. But what happened reminded me that I don’t want to waste our time planning perfect or ideal moments. I just want to live in all those moments with you, by my side. All day, something kept pulling me to this ring, telling me that this was our moment. And I think it’s because our best moments, the realest ones for us, are just us… being us, comfortable and safe with each other. No planning, no overthinking, no obsessing. Just being home with each other. So here I am, unsure about so much, the future and where this life will take me and us. But this moment,” his hand rubbed her knee, her face covered by both her hands as she quietly cried. “This decision is the surest I’ve ever been in my life. I am sure about you. I’ve never been so certain that you were the woman for me. Marry me.”

Charlotte immediately launched herself from her seat and into his arms, the small box still wrapped tightly in her hand as she held him.

“I love you so much,” she whispered before kissing him, her body resting on his bent knee.

“I love you too…” he paused, realizing he never actually heard the magic word. “So is that a yes… or?”

She let out a watery laugh. “A million times, yes! Yes, yes, yes!” The box fell in her lap as she cupped his face in her hands. “ Now you’re really stuck with me, Mr. Jordan.” she teased as her hands wiped the tears that flowed earnestly from her eyes.

He took the box from her and slid the ring on her finger, his heart swelling at how she admired the piece. She was not much of a jewelry wearer so he went for a ring that was simple, one she would not mind wearing every day, but was worthy of her hand.

He wiped a tear from his eye and chuckled. “Good, that’s what I was hoping for. Mrs. Jordan has a nice ring to it.” He pressed his lips to her ring finger. His deep baritone filled the cold air as he let out an excited yell, standing and spinning Charlotte around. “Wanna go to the courthouse tomorrow?”

“Slow downnnnn. Another surprise this week might actually kill me,” she laughed. “Anndddd I wanna be my usual flawless self for our wedding photos,” she gestured toward her bruised face.

“You’re always flawless to me.”

“Alright I already said yes, don’t lay it on so thick,” she offered in jest, causing him to pepper her face with kisses.

“Well how about I take you back to bed and warm you up and I can make you say yes a couple more times?”

She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, “I think I’d rather you make me scream it.”

“Oh that was always the plan.”

And before she knew it, Michael had her on her back, their hands interlaced on the pillow as he made her scream that beautiful word over and over again until the sun came up.

Tag List: @certifiedlesbianbaddie @bangtanxmegan @reelwriter19 @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @hi888888sworld @msniaimani @destinio1 @lynaye1993 @chaoticevilbakugo @blackerthings @pipsqueak-98 @miyuhpapayuh @passionxwrites @gopaperless @injerafiend

A/N: Our babiesssssss!! I went back and forth on the proposal scene for a while lol and this just felt right so I hope you all enjoyed it! Every Kind of Way by HER is one of my favorite songs. This is not the end of our story buttttt we are getting close. Just three or four more chapters to go.

Drop a comment and let me know what you think/let me know if you want to be tagged!

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

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