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buttercandy16 · 22 days ago

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What She Deserves...

PAIRING(s): Agatha Harkness x Reader

SUMMARY: In a world devoid of omegas, Agatha Harkness becomes fixated on her beta neighbor, willing to do whatever it takes to claim her.

WARNING(s): Omegaverse, Dub-con, Obsession, Cheating, Forced Transformation and other Dark Themes.

A/N: Two fics in one day? I'm on a roll, lol! Time for some Alpha Agatha to claim me... I meant you... or us?

The night was moonless, the perfect backdrop to Agatha Harkness’s restless prowling. Salem was quiet these days, much quieter than Agatha preferred. The world had changed; omegas, once sought after and cherished, were no more. The natural order had shifted, leaving only alphas and betas to navigate the complexities of their desires.

Agatha wanted more—needed more. For centuries, she had used her power to survive and thrive, but loneliness gnawed at her now. She longed for the soft yielding nature of an omega, for the irresistible pull of a bond. No beta could match the primal fire in her, no matter how desperately they tried. Then, fate intervened.

When the moving truck pulled up next door, Agatha leaned against her window, watching with detached interest. A couple, newly married from the looks of it, stepped out, smiling and holding hands. Two betas, utterly unremarkable. Her gaze lingered, however, as the wife’s laugh carried through the air, melodic and warm, laced with something that sent a spark down Agatha’s spine.

Interesting.

Her new neighbor—you—was the epitome of charm. Your kind smile and bright eyes captured the attention of everyone who came to welcome you to the neighborhood, but it was the way you walked, moved, and carried yourself that made Agatha’s heart twist. There was something beneath your beta exterior, something she couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t long before her curiosity became obsession.

Over the weeks, Agatha ingratiated herself into your life. She’d drop by with welcome gifts, offer to help with the garden, and invite you over for tea when your husband was at work. You couldn’t understand why you were drawn to her company so fiercely, but there was a magnetic quality to her presence that you couldn’t resist.

“Do you ever feel like you’re meant for something… different?” Agatha asked one evening as the two of you sat by her fire. Her voice was low and smooth, curling around your thoughts like a whisper of temptation.

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly, staring into the flames. “Sometimes I feel out of place. Like I’m missing something, but I don’t know what.”

Agatha smiled, the kind of smile that would have warned anyone wiser to tread carefully. “Perhaps you just haven’t discovered who you truly are.”

It wasn’t coincidence that you began feeling odd a few days later. Your emotions grew unpredictable, your body feverish, and your senses heightened in ways you’d never experienced. Agatha, always conveniently close, reassured you.

“Your husband’s not a doctor,” she chided when you insisted you were fine. “Let me take care of you. Trust me.”

You did.

She concocted teas with herbs you’d never heard of and whispered strange words into the air when you were too tired to question. She stayed close, too close perhaps, but you were too distracted by your own turmoil to see her true intentions.

Her plan was working.

She had found an ancient spell buried in forbidden texts, a ritual designed to awaken dormant omega traits in betas. It wasn’t supposed to exist in this world, but Agatha was nothing if not resourceful. You, her beautiful and unsuspecting neighbor, would be her masterpiece.

The night you fell into Agatha’s grasp felt like falling into a storm—a force far greater than yourself, impossible to fight. It started as a faint haze of discomfort in your veins, a whisper in your body that turned into a scream. You couldn’t control it, couldn’t understand it, but Agatha… oh, she understood it perfectly.

Her knocking on your door that evening was no coincidence. You had spent the entire day spiraling, feverish and restless, aching in ways that frightened you. Your husband had tried to comfort you, his hands fumbling as he touched your sweat-slick skin, his concern obvious, but his presence was unbearable. He smelled wrong, his voice grated against your senses, and the thought of him even looking at you during your vulnerability made your stomach churn.

Agatha had known. She always knew.

“Darling,” she cooed as you opened the door, her violet eyes sharp with concern—and something darker. Her touch, deceptively light, found your trembling hand, grounding you instantly. Her scent was intoxicating, calming the chaos inside you just enough to make you forget the warning alarm in your brain. “You look terrible. Let me help you.”

You hesitated, clinging to a last shred of caution. "I... I don’t understand what’s happening. I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

Agatha stepped closer, her voice soft, hypnotic. "It’s nothing to be afraid of, sweetheart. Your body is finally awakening to its true nature. Let me take care of you. I can make this better."

Desperation clouded your judgment, and before you knew it, you were in her home, her hands guiding you to a comfortable chair by the fire. Her touch was everywhere—gentle on your shoulders, soothing on your back, each caress unraveling your defenses. She offered you tea laced with faintly glowing herbs that smelled of earth and magic. When you drank, the liquid burned in your veins, igniting something so primal you gasped.

Agatha’s smile widened as she crouched before you, one hand resting on your knee, the other cradling your chin. "Feel that?" she whispered, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "That’s you transforming. Your body knows exactly what it needs now."

Your skin burned under her touch, your pulse roaring in your ears. Something about her proximity set your senses ablaze. Her scent filled every breath you took—lavender, dark spices, and something raw, something Alpha.

"I need—" you started to say, but your words faltered, your voice caught between a whimper and a growl.

Agatha tilted her head, feigning innocence though her eyes betrayed her cunning. "Need what, darling? Tell me."

You couldn’t. You didn’t know how. Your instincts were at war with logic, and the only thing grounding you was Agatha. Her smirk deepened as she leaned closer, her lips brushing the shell of your ear. "Say it," she purred, her voice molten and commanding. "Say what you need."

You shuddered, torn apart by the intensity of her presence. Every rational thought drowned in the tidal wave of heat coursing through you. Her touch dragged you down further, and then she whispered the word that sealed your fate.

"Me."

You trembled under Agatha's intense gaze, her words echoing in your mind like a siren's call. Me. The thought both terrified and thrilled you. Your body cried out for her touch, for her dominance, and the force of that need scared you. You weren't supposed to want this—want her—like this.

Agatha seemed to sense your hesitation, and she pulled back slightly, her hand still resting on your knee. "It's alright," she murmured, her voice soothing even as her eyes glittered with dark promise. "You don't have to be afraid. I can help you through this."

Help. The word was a lifeline in the storm of your new sensations. You needed help, needed something to ground you in the chaos of your awakening omega instincts. And Agatha offered that, along with the temptation of her touch, her scent, the magnetic pull of her alpha energy.

Slowly, you nodded, surrendering to the inevitable. Agatha's smile widened, victorious and hungry. She leaned in closer, her hand sliding from your knee to your thigh, her touch burning through the fabric of your pants.

"Good girl," she purred, her breath ghosting over your lips. "Now, let's get you out of these clothes. We need to see what's happening to you."

Your breath hitched as Agatha stood, her hands already working on the buttons of your shirt. You watched, mesmerized, as she pushed the fabric off your shoulders, exposing the smooth expanse of your skin to the warmth of the fire. Her eyes raked over you, filled with approval and something else—something dark and possessive.

"Beautiful," she breathed, her fingers trailing down your collarbone, over the swell of your breasts. "So perfect."

You shivered at her touch, your nipples hardening under the fabric of your bra. Agatha's lips curved into a wicked smile as she leaned down, her mouth hovering just above the valley between your breasts.

"Can you feel it, darling?" she whispered, her breath hot against your skin. "The heat in your blood, the ache between your legs? That's your omega nature rising to the surface."

You could feel it—the raw, primal need that pulsed through your veins, demanding attention. Your body felt like a livewire, every nerve ending screaming for stimulation. And Agatha seemed to know exactly how to touch you, how to stoke the fire within you.

She straightened up, her hands sliding down to the waistband of your pants. "Let's get these off you," she murmured, her voice low and husky. "I want to see all of you."

With a quick movement, she tugged your pants down your legs, leaving you bare before her except for your bra and panties. The cool air of the room hit your skin, making you gasp, but Agatha's eyes were like a physical caress, warm and approving.

"Look at you," she breathed, circling you slowly, drinking in every inch of your exposed flesh. "So beautiful, so ripe with potential. You're going to be a stunning omega."

The word sounded foreign on her lips, but somehow right. Omega. It explained the ache in your body, the restlessness in your soul. It explained the inexplicable draw you felt towards Agatha, the alpha who stood before you now, her eyes dark with desire.

Agatha stepped closer, her hands cupping your face, tilting your head up to meet her gaze. "I'm going to take care of you," she promised, her voice low and firm. "I'm going to show you what it means to be an omega, to submit to your alpha. And you're going to love every second of it."

Her words sent a shiver down your spine, a thrill of anticipation mixed with a hint of fear. You knew you should be scared, should fight against the pull of her dominance. But your body craved her touch, craved the relief only she could provide.

As if reading your thoughts, Agatha's hands slid down your body, one cupping your breast through your bra, the other dipping between your legs, pressing against your aching core through the damp fabric of your panties.

"Can you feel how wet you are?" she murmured, her fingers rubbing slow circles over your clothed sex. "That's your omega essence, darling. It's nature's way of preparing you for mating."

The word made your head spin, but it was the pressure of Agatha's fingers that made you gasp, made your hips buck forward involuntarily. Agatha chuckled darkly, her fingers slipping beneath the hem of your panties, caressing your slick folds directly.

"So responsive," she purred, her touch gentle but firm. "I can't wait to break you in properly."

Break you in. The words should have terrified you, but they only served to heighten your arousal. Your body craved submission, craved the dominant touch of an alpha. And Agatha was more than willing to provide that.

She continued her slow exploration of your body, her fingers gliding over your sensitive flesh, teasing your nipples through the fabric of your bra, dipping between your legs to gather your slick essence. All the while, she whispered words of praise and possession, telling you how beautiful you were, how perfect, how utterly hers.

You could feel yourself losing control, your omega instincts taking over as the alpha's touch consumed you. Your hands clutched at Agatha's shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of her shirt as she brought you closer and closer to the edge.

"Please," you whimpered, unable to hold back any longer. "Please, Agatha..."

She smiled against your skin, her teeth grazing your collarbone. "Please what, darling?" she asked, her voice a seductive purr. "Tell me what you need."

You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you could voice your deepest desires. But the fire in your veins demanded satisfaction, demanded release.

"I... I need you," you gasped out finally, the words raw and honest. "I need you to make me yours."

Agatha's eyes flashed with triumph and hunger. "Oh, I will," she promised darkly. "I'm going to claim you in every way imaginable. I'm going to fill you with my seed and make you scream my name until everyone knows you belong to me."

The dirty words sent a shiver of excitement through you, even as a small part of you knew this was wrong, knew you were betraying your husband. But your body didn't care about right or wrong—it only cared about the alpha who held it in her thrall.

With a low growl, Agatha captured your lips in a searing kiss, her tongue delving into your mouth to claim every inch of you. At the same time, her fingers found your aching clit, rubbing hard and fast until you were writhing against her, desperate for more.

"Come for me," she commanded against your lips, her fingers never ceasing their relentless pace. "Show me how much you need this."

Her words pushed you over the edge, and with a cry of release, you came hard, your body convulsing as pleasure crashed through you. Agatha held you through it all, her touch steady and dominant, guiding you through the waves of ecstasy until you collapsed against her, boneless and sated.

But even as you caught your breath, you could feel the need building again, could feel the omega inside you demanding more than just a quick orgasm. She demanded completion, demanded an alpha's knot and seed.

As if sensing your thoughts, Agatha picked you up easily, cradling you in her strong arms as she carried you towards the bedroom. "Don't worry, darling," she murmured, her voice low and reassuring. "I'm going to give you everything you need."

And as she laid you down on the soft bed, her body covering yours, you knew she was right. This was only the beginning.

Agatha hovered above you, her eyes dark with desire as she gazed down at your naked form. She took a moment to drink in the sight of you, laid out before her like a feast. Her hands trailed over your skin, cupping your breasts, teasing your nipples until they hardened under her touch. You gasped at the sensation, arching into her hands, craving more.

With a wicked smile, Agatha leaned down, her tongue swirling around one hardened peak. Electricity shot through you at the contact, your back arching off the bed as you cried out in pleasure. Agatha chuckled against your skin, the vibrations sending another wave of sensation through you.

"Your body is so responsive," she purred, her fingers continuing their exploration of your curves. "I can't wait to feel it spasming around my knot as I fill you with my seed."

The dirty words made your core clench, your arousal growing with each passing second. You could feel your omega nature taking over, your instincts screaming at you to submit, to let the alpha claim you completely.

Agatha seemed to sense your desperation, and she moved down your body with purpose, her hands and mouth leaving a trail of fire in their wake. When she reached the apex of your thighs, she paused, her breath hot against your slick folds.

"Look at you," she murmured, her fingers brushing against your entrance. "So wet and ready for me already. You were made for this, weren't you? Made to be an alpha's mate."

She didn't give you a chance to respond, her mouth latching onto your clit instead. The sensation was overwhelming, and you cried out, your hands fisting in the sheets beneath you. Agatha's tongue worked magic on you, flicking and circling and sucking until you were writhing against her face, your hips bucking shamelessly as you sought more of that exquisite pleasure.

But Agatha controlled the pace, her hands holding your hips down as she lapped at your essence, savoring every drop of your arousal. She brought you to the edge again and again, only to pull back at the last second, leaving you gasping and aching for release.

"Please," you whimpered, desperation clawing at your throat. "Please, Agatha, I need—"

She cut off your plea with another swipe of her tongue, her fingers dipping inside you as she finally allowed you to find your climax. You shattered with a scream of her name, your body convulsing as ecstasy tore through you.

But even as the waves of pleasure crested and began to ebb, you could feel the need building again, stronger than before. Your omega instincts demanded satisfaction, demanded an alpha's knot stretching you open and filling you up.

As if reading your thoughts, Agatha moved up your body, her clothed form pressing against your naked skin. You could feel the hard ridge of her arousal through her pants, and it made your mouth water with desire.

"Can you feel what you do to me?" Agatha murmured, her hips grinding against yours in a slow, sensual motion. "Can you feel how hard I am for you? How much I need to be inside you?"

You nodded frantically, your hands reaching for the buttons of her shirt. You needed to feel her skin against yours, needed to explore the curves of her body just as she had explored yours.

Agatha allowed you to undress her, watching with a satisfied smirk as you marveled at the sight of her. She was lean and toned, her breasts full and her abs defined. And between her legs, her cock stood at attention, thick and heavy and glistening at the tip.

"Such a beautiful sight," Agatha purred, her eyes devouring you as you gazed at her in awe. "I'm going to enjoy wrecking this pretty little body of yours."

She didn't give you a chance to respond, capturing your lips in a searing kiss as she settled between your thighs. You could feel the heat of her cock pressing against your slick folds, teasing you with the promise of what was to come.

"Tell me you want this," Agatha demanded, her voice low and commanding against your lips. "Tell me you want me to claim you, to make you mine."

"I want it," you gasped out, unable to deny the need coursing through your veins. "Please, Agatha. I need you to fill me up. I need your knot."

Her eyes flashed with primal hunger at your words, and with a growl of satisfaction, she thrust into you in one smooth motion. The sensation of being stretched and filled was overwhelming, your inner walls clenching around her thick length as she bottomed out inside you.

"Fuck," Agatha hissed, her hips stilling for a moment as she savored the feeling of being inside you. "You're so tight. So perfect."

She didn't give you time to adjust, pulling out slowly before slamming back into you, setting a hard and fast pace that had you crying out in ecstasy. Each thrust sent sparks of pleasure through you, the head of her cock hitting that sweet spot inside you that made stars explode behind your eyelids.

You clung to Agatha's shoulders, your nails digging into her skin as she pounded into you relentlessly. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with your cries of pleasure and Agatha's grunts of exertion.

"Mine," she growled, one hand fisting in your hair as she angled your head back, exposing your neck to her teeth. "You're mine now, little omega. I'm going to mark you, claim you, fill you with my seed until everyone knows you belong to me."

The words sent a shiver down your spine, your omega nature rejoicing at the thought of being claimed so thoroughly by an alpha. You felt wild, free, as if all the constraints of your old life had fallen away and all that mattered was this moment, this primal act of mating.

"Please," you whimpered, your hips meeting Agatha's thrusts eagerly. "Please, mark me. Claim me. I'm yours."

Your words seemed to spur Agatha on, and she picked up the pace, fucking into you with a ferocity that bordered on violence. The bed creaked beneath you, the headboard slamming against the wall as she took you harder and faster than you ever thought possible.

And then, without warning, she was there, her knot swelling inside you, locking her in place as she finally found his release. You felt her cock pulsing inside you, felt the warm rush of her seed filling you up as she came with a roar of triumph.

The sensation of being claimed so completely sent you over the edge, and you came with a scream of ecstasy, your body milking Agatha's cock for every last drop of her essence.

You collapsed together in a tangle of limbs, both of you panting and sated as the aftershocks of pleasure slowly faded. Agatha stayed buried inside you, her knot keeping her in place as she nuzzled into your neck, inhaling your scent with a contented sigh.

"That was incredible," she murmured, her lips brushing against your skin. "But don't think we're done yet, my little omega. I've got a lot more to show you."

A thrill of anticipation shot through you at her words, even as exhaustion tugged at your limbs. You knew this was just the beginning, knew that Agatha would demand your submission over and over again until you were thoroughly claimed and mated.

But for now, all you could do was bask in the afterglow of your first true mating, knowing that your life would never be the same again.

From that night, your transformation was complete, irreversible. You woke in Agatha's arms, marked in ways you couldn't yet understand. The ache that had consumed you was gone, replaced by something deeper—a connection that bound you to her. You were hers, every part of you attuned to the alpha who had made you this way.

Your husband came looking for you days later, frantic and confused. Agatha welcomed him with a cool smile, standing tall and unyielding at her doorway as she blocked his frantic attempts to push past her.

“She doesn’t belong to you anymore,” she said, her voice smooth, her words cutting like a blade. “You couldn’t handle what she’s become. Let her go.”

The scent of your omega status wafted through the air, reaching him like a slap to the face. His eyes filled with despair as realization struck. He couldn’t argue. There was no fighting the primal laws of biology.

From the shadows, you watched, torn between guilt and the overwhelming relief of having Agatha’s arms around you. She caught your gaze over her shoulder, her smirk cold, victorious.

“Don’t worry, darling,” she murmured, shutting the door in your husband’s face with a finality that sent shivers down your spine. “I’ll take care of you now. No one else ever could.”

Agatha didn’t just claim you; she consumed you. Every part of your life, every piece of who you had been, was now wrapped around her. And as much as a part of you still resisted, another part—darker, hungrier—craved her attention, her dominance, her endless power.

She molded you into her perfect vision of an omega, lavishing you with touches and whispers that lingered long after they ended. Your world shrank to her presence, her approval, her praise. Each moment of submission felt intoxicating, as though her dominance filled an empty space you’d never known existed.

And though her methods were dark, her spell forbidden, Agatha would argue it was a fair exchange.

After all, wasn’t it her right, as an Alpha, to finally have what she deserved?

_-_-_

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#agatha x reader #agatha harkness x reader #dark fanfiction #agatha all along #agathario #rio vidal #agatha harkness #agatha harkness fanfic #kathryn hahn #marvel #aubrey plaza #dark!agatha harkness #omegaverse

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obxsummer · 2 months ago

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everything i wanted // ghost of you

pairing: jj maybank x routledge!reader

summary: when the cops come in search of jj, promises are made and broken, rafe get stuck in the storage closet, a massive storm brews in the ocean, and you're left wondering if you can survive in a world without jj.

warnings: near death experiences, cursing, the usual obx angst

navigation -- series masterlist

ask me anything

March Point was always much cooler than Poguelandia 2.0. You swore every time the group wanted to take off from here in the morning depending on the fishing season because A) you didn’t get to sleep in your comfy bed, and B) it felt like camping without the fun of it all.

Somewhere in the midst of the campfire last night, Pope had suggested moving out here with the knowledge that Groff knew where the house was and could easily come back in search of you all if he felt the need. Kiara had tried to argue that he had all the supplies, so why would he bother, but speaking it out loud was enough to convince JJ to move too.

So that’s how you ended up here, on your makeshift camp, tangled in one of the hammocks with JJ. You’d slept relatively soundly all night, exhaustion really driving you to be a heavy sleeper which rarely ever happened.

Pope and Cleo woke up first, always the early birds. Their theorizing was relatively quiet until Sarah and John B started shuffling and then any chance of sleeping in wasn’t happening. You sighed and tucked further into JJ’s chest, digging your cold feet into his warm legs and laughing quietly when he made a noise of protest.

“You’re mean,” He whispered, pulling the blanket in tighter to keep the heat close. His hand dipped under the material of your shirt to tickle your back gently, the feeling lulling you back to sleep momentarily.

The soreness from yesterday settled in your bones achingly. It also didn’t help that you were crammed into a flimsy hammock that didn’t allow much structure for either you or JJ to spread out comfortably.

Scents of the fire being lit flooded your nose and you really wished nobody would move for the next few hours. Going after this so-called Blue Crown was the biggest topic of conversation, but you really wished the need for treasure wouldn’t overcome the need for peace and stability. Sarah really didn’t need to be traveling the world before she even had a chance to see a doctor and assess what was happening.

JJ especially didn’t want to get out of the cocoon the two of you created. This was the first time he’d gotten to hold you close and sleep comfortably in a few days and he wanted to soak up every second. He had become so used to just existing when you were with him that his mind shut off for the time being.

The emotional whirlwind was taking its toll differently than he was used to. He wasn’t expecting Luke to have been on the island as long as he has, but to go from that, to Groff and Larissa, to Luke betraying him in the courtroom, to Groff again? He felt like he should feel confused and betrayed, but in all honesty, JJ was just angry.

He was angry that all this drama had come to affect you and your relationship. You were the steady constant in JJ’s life so comparing everything that happened against the way you were impacted was a habit for him.

You shifted against him, your battle with staying asleep finally losing out. With a soft groan, you moved up to kiss his jawline before he turned to kiss you properly, eyes heavy as he blinked at you. “Morning,” He grumbled.

You returned the greeting before pushing off of him carefully, wincing as your tight muscles pulled with the action. JJ’s hand was warm under your shirt, the touch comforting as you took in your environment. Pope and Cleo were crowding around the small fire pit, pulling together something in the kettle to snack on while you figured out a game plan.

Kiara shuffled through the bag of snacks to toss you an apple and some fruit snacks, which you handed over to JJ. Everyone was still quiet, the movement of the water a background noise to your tranquil morning. You shivered, already missing the warmth of being snuggled up with JJ, and fully debated rolling back over and forgetting you guys were planning on doing absolutely anything.

“Is that a boat?”

You turned as Kiara asked the question, her gaze set on something behind the tree that you couldn’t quite see just yet.

“Who’s coming out here this early?” Pope questioned and looked over his shoulder just as the boat came into the clearing, the word Sheriff catching you off guard.

“Cops?” You glanced back at JJ, who could only offer you a shrug. Groaning, you stood up fully and pushed your feet into your gym shoes, knowing damn well you guys needed to move. “What’s the plan?”

John B stood still, his eyes watching as the police boat approached the dock where your only form of escape was, effectively blocking you all in. “Follow me, let’s go.”

Everyone scrambled to grab their shit, Cleo barely managing to douse the fire out before Pope was pulling her away from the scene. John B stayed tucked behind the trees as long as he could before slipping into the water and sliding under the dock. You huffed at the idea of getting your clothes and shoes wet but followed anyway. Thankfully, y’all at least had the brains to buy waterproof backpacks this time after losing all your shit in El Dorado.

“JJ Maybank!” The shout came from an unknown voice as two officers you didn’t recognize started their way toward land, their footsteps echoing against the wood. “JJ, we don’t want to hurt you. Come on out.”

Frowning, you looked over your shoulder where JJ was practically against your back. “Why are they looking for you?”

The blond boy could only shrug, confusion on his face as he kept a hold on your waist and gently shifted you forward into the water more. Pope was leading the group now, swimming along toward the two ships that were floating just a few feet away.

“I have an arrest warrant for JJ in connection to the murder of Hollis Robinson!”

As if your day couldn’t get any worse, the words JJ and murder had been placed in the same sentence, and you were suddenly in over your head. The group suddenly went still at the statement and looked back at him. His teeth clenched tighter on the knife blade between them but when he grabbed hold of you again and moved you further, you didn’t ask questions.

When John B climbed up on the police pontoon, you were questioning everything that was about to happen. Pope and your brother climbed up first before reaching back down to assist JJ so he didn’t strain his injury. Cleo crawled up next with Kie behind her. John B went for Sarah and you bit back a scream when Pope pulled you onboard, your chest burning with the movement. He gave you a look, to which you shook your head and dismissed it even though you were pressing against the pain with your fingertips.

Pope made a mental note to check on you later but instead pushed down slightly on your shoulder to get you to join Sarah and Cleo on the floor of the boat. John B started the engine and wasted no time in pulling away from the dock, instantly catching the eye of the cops on land.

“Hey!”

Their voices faded quickly as John B continued to veer away into the open water. JJ hit the floor next to you shortly after and you were quick to pull him into your arms. His whole body was shaking, and his reaction alone told you he had no idea what they were coming after him for.

“JJ?”

“I don’t, I don’t know,” He panted, falling back against you and latching on to you, digging his head into your shoulder. “I, he-”

Pope came into your view, crouching in front of JJ to place his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You’re okay, dude. It’s just us. Breathe.”

JJ’s hand was clenching your shirt so tightly you wouldn’t be surprised if it ripped, but he listened to Pope and started to focus on his breathing until his chest was moving steadier. “We… after we left the cemetery, Groff told me he needed to pick something up. Went somewhere on Figure Eight, and then he insisted on leaving the Twinkie and taking… taking a boat out. Wasn’t his, didn’t say where he got it, just had the keys.”

“Who is Hollis Robinson?” You asked, the name completely unfamiliar to you. “The boat clearly belonged to her and Groff clearly killed her and planted evidence, to no surprise whatsoever.”

Sarah frowned slightly. “I’m pretty sure she’s in business with Rafe. He said something about Goat Island and… and this development investment?”

“Goat Island?” Cleo repeated the name, laughing slightly. “Creative, I guess.”

“Wait, didn’t the Genrettes own Goat Island? Passed down from generations?” Kiara pointed out, her eyes moving from Pope to JJ.

Pope nodded. “They read the will the other day, when Cleo and I went to clarify information on the rezoning. It’s being turned into a protected state park, since there’s no living Genrette left.”

“Except there is…” You trailed off, gaze dropping down to the boy in your arms who gained everyone’s attention at the moment. He shifted uncomfortably with the attention. “JJ?”

He shook his head slightly, practically shrinking into your body as much as possible. You frowned, letting your head fall to rest against his and continuing to hold him closely.

“We need to get out of here. Get off this island,” Cleo directed. She was no doubt itching for another chance to avenge Terrance, and going after the crown would give her that opportunity.

“I mean, I could be down for a little Moroccan vacay,” Kie added with a shrug. Her fingers picked at the hem of her shorts, something she did when she was nervous and you didn’t blame her for feeling that way.

“We’re gonna need a bigger boat. Hell, a ship maybe. You know how far Morocco is? Way, way, way out there.”

Cleo’s words were unfortunately true, which led you back to the marina in hopes of finding a boat that you could possibly slip into without mass hysteria. In theory, it should’ve been kind of easy… except you were all in a Kildare County Sheriff boat and if they were looking for JJ, chances are the Kooks were already spreading the so-called accusation down the grapevine.

Kiara was offering her favorite picks of the bunch, to which John B kept declining with realistic reasons of why they wouldn’t make it as far as needed. You tuned him out, figuring he would give you all a heads up when he located one that would be up for the job.

“You okay?” You looked to JJ who had shifted to sit next to you, eyes scanning the marina for anything that he thought would help. He nodded, grabbing your hand in his to hold tightly, but remaining quiet. The shaking had come to a slow a little bit ago and you could slowly see the terror disappearing from his posture. It would only be a matter of time before anger took over and he felt the need to defend himself.

“You know we could all go to jail for taking a boat like that?”

Pope’s comment grabbed your attention as you looked up to see the vessel they were focused on, the large engines speaking for themselves. Suddenly, JJ was moving out of your grasp. “We’re just gonna borrow it for a little, yeah?”

Sarah reached down to grab your hand and pull you up as JJ tied the smaller boat off, calling back that he was going to look for keys. Cleo climbed on the larger boat, following JJ and Pope up the stairs while Kie remained on the lower deck.

“This is a horrible idea,” You muttered so only Sarah and John B could hear. “Probably one of our worst.”

John B’s hand squeezed your shoulder gently as he observed the whole scene from behind you. Worry was building in your chest. The marina was not empty by any means, and any looking person could easily tell this was not normal.

“Coppers!” The call from Cleo had you all looking toward the deck where a group of police officers were making their way toward your group.

“Shit,” John B cursed, leaving you and Sarah to start the engine again as the remainder of your friends came scrambling to jump back on the smaller pontoon.

You looked over your shoulder to see a small crowd growing, the familiar face of Kiara’s dad appearing amongst them. “Kie, it’s your dad.”

The girl followed where you were pointing, catching her dad’s eyes and cursing. “Shit, he’s gonna kill me.”

“John B, go!” JJ called back as he finished disconnecting from the yacht.

Your brother’s hands were moving frantically before Cleo shoved him away, not taking long before the boat shifted beneath you all. “I got it, hold on to something!”

Pope was pushing you down again to get as low as possible as JJ scrambled around the deck before ripping something out of the compartment.

“What are you doing, what is that?” Kiara asked as JJ pulled out a red container, apparently knowing whatever the hell it was better than you did.

“JJ!” You yelled when the gun-like object appeared in his hand and he leaned over the side to aim in the air. “Stop!”

The popping noise made you jump, but instead of a bullet, a red flare went flying in the air. Concerned gasps followed the defensive measure before another loud bang went off and everyone around you yelped.

You risked the chance to look up and caught sight of Kiara’s dad standing near one of the cops, apparently having knocked him off stance and causing his bullet to miss. You glanced over at Kie, who was clearly in shock and caught off guard by her dad’s actions.

“What the fu-”

“Are you insane?” Your question was full of so much anger that it almost made JJ flinch. You were pissed, and rightfully so. “What the hell was that?”

“I panicked!”

“Shit, we’re leaking.”

Sarah sat up from her spot on the floor at Pope’s comment. “What?”

John B moved quickly, his glare directed at your fiancé as he went to the back of the boat. “They shot the boat.”

You groaned, head falling into your hands in defeat. Not only did you fail on finding a boat for Morocco, but now your only form of transportation was on its way to sinking. You moved out of the way, practically falling into the spot next to Sarah and Kie as the boys scrambled to find a patch or something to slow the leak.

Cleo continued to steer away from the chaos behind you guys. “Look, we’ve gotta beach her, this thing is sinking.”

As she headed for the nearest land set, thankfully a bit away from the marina and further into creek, you stared at JJ like he’d lost his mind. Panic or not, shooting anything near an armed cop was never a good idea and you couldn’t believe you had to be the one to explain that to him after his 20 years of life. You knew he was scared and he was just trying to help, but that managed to royally fuck you all over even worse than before.

“Cops will be here any minute. We’ve gotta fix this thing fast,” John B said as Cleo steadied the boat to drift into the sandbank.

Cleo just laughed as everyone started climbing out. “She’s done. She’s not coming back.” She pointed toward the severely deflated side of the boat (which… why would cops want a boat that could deflate in the first place?) to emphasize her words.

“How are we gonna get out of here now?” Pope retaliated. You guys were sitting ducks if you stayed here, especially since it was obvious you couldn’t go far with the damaged boat.

JJ was picking at the sand, slamming his fist into the gritty surface with annoyance at himself more than anything. The space between you spoke for itself. When survival mode kicked in for him, it was hard to think about anything else. You were frustrated over his actions and needed the space before you cut into him harsher than you intended to.

“Hey!” Shoupe clearly caught up to you faster than you anticipated as he pulled up on his own boat.

“And there’s Shoupe,” John B sighed and sat down in the sand next to Sarah with a huff. You shook your head. There really was no way out of this now, especially when you had nothing surrounding you but water.

“You guys finally did it, beached yourselves. And JJ, you’ve done a great job racking up some charges. And guess what? I’ve got a warrant this time.”

The boy in question got up from the sand, full defense mode engaged as he created more distance from Shoupe. “I didn’t-”

“You’ve dug this hole about as deep as it can get,” Shoupe continued, “So put down the shovels, and come with me.” He looked pointedly at JJ and motioned to his boat in the water.

“He’s wanted for murder, Shoupe,” You argued calmly. “He didn’t murder anyone.”

Shoupe sighed, “Look, I got a good idea of what he did and didn’t do, okay? I can’t pin you for most of the downtown damage, but I can for the realtor office and I have a warrant for this, okay? We just gotta let the courts sort it out.”

You scoffed loudly, “Yeah, like the courts figured out the zoning in a fair manner. Or how about John B going for the death penalty, OR better yet, how about Rafe Cameron not catching any assault charges? Let the courts figure it out, yeah right.”

“Y’all come with me, now, or-”

“Hey!”

You closed your eyes as Rafe’s voice interrupted Shoupe, his figure appearing from the marsh behind the officer as he approached the group. John B and Pope were in front of you in seconds, Sarah pulling herself from the sand to join your side and grab your hand tightly.

“What the hell?” Shoupe was asking the question on everyone’s mind as Rafe continued getting closer.

“Listen, I’m just here to save everyone’s asses, okay?” The eldest Cameron announced before looking to the sheriff. “Shoupe, I gotta talk to you. You’re missing a part of this picture.”

Shoupe apparently felt threatened and unholstered his weapon to point it at Rafe. “Hey. Hey, stay back! Stay back!”

Rafe froze instantly and took a few steps back, his hands in the air. “Jesus Christ! What are you gonna do, shoot me? Huh? You’re looking for Chandler Groff, yeah?”

Shoupe hesitated, his stance dropping slightly. “Maybe.”

“Groff was scamming with Hollis this entire time, alright? If you ask me, it was probably Groff that killed her, not…him.” He tossed his hand dismissively in JJ’s direction, who didn’t hesitate to flip him off in response. When Shoupe didn’t really say anything, Rafe looked at him expectantly. “Did you already think that? Yeah, Groff probably killed Genrette too. And that body…the body in the dunes? You got that on Groff?”

You glanced at Sarah, confused as to why her brother of all people was trying to point fingers away from your group for once.

“Listen, you can bring these lowlifes in for some vandalism, disturbing the peace bullshit, or you can get the big fish. These guys know where Groff is.”

To your shock, Shoupe turned to face you all with a look of suspicion. “Yeah? Where is he?”

“Out of your jurisdiction, Shoupe,” John B explained. “Way out.”

“Try out the country.”

“We were on our way to get him, and then you showed up,” John B continued.

Shoupe motioned toward the deflated police raft and nearly laughed. “In that?”

“No. That.” Rafe shook his head and decided this was his question to answer as he pointed to a large fishing boat anchored in the deeper waters. “They know where he is, and I can get them there, alright? But they can’t do shit if they’re all locked up.”

“And just let ‘em go? No, thanks,” Shoupe retaliated and directed his next words to JJ, “I’ll tell you what, here’s what we’re gonna do. You come with me, tell us where Groff is, and I guarantee it, we’ll go easy on you. Hell, your charges may disappear. Quid pro quo, you ever heard of that?”

John B laughed and crossed his arms over his chest. “Oh, we’ve seen plenty of it.”

Your hope was slowly disappearing and part of you wondered if JJ took off running fast enough, if he would lose them altogether.

“Think about it. Hollis, dead. Genrette, dead. Downtown’s trashed. You’re on the chopping block, okay? I hear what people are saying about you. You’re gonna lose your job. It’s game over, man.” You couldn’t tell if Rafe’s tactic was helping or hurting the cause, but you weren’t even gonna try to stop him. “Unless, you bring the killer to justice all by your lonesome. So, what’s it gonna be? I mean, some bullshit charges on these low-rent Pogues who didn’t do shit-”

“Man, he really has to get every dig in, huh?” You whispered to Sarah causing her to giggle and hide her smile behind her hand.

“-Or you solve the crime of the century. And you save your job.”

Shoupe shook his head. “You know, you sound a lot like your old man. And that’s not a compliment. Now I’m getting cornered by another freakin’ Cameron here?”

“Oh?” Rafe looked offended for a split second before he wiped the expression from his face. “Okay then, added bonus. When we get back, and you got Groff locked up, I’ll tell you what happened last summer on the runway. When you found me out there on the tarmac? The real deal, right? I know you wanna know.”

Your heart skipped as you recalled the moment like it was yesterday. The incoming storm, Kie and JJ not answering, you arguing with John B. Rafe and Ward showing up. The beginning of a shit show.

“You wanna know what I want to know?” Shoupe repeated, “I wanna know about another little runway incident from a while back. How ‘bout that?”

Caught in a corner, Rafe licked his lips in understanding at what Shoupe was pushing at. “Look, all I’m saying is that all of this would look really good for an elected official in the hot seat. You know? Get it all wrapped up in one package.”

Shoupe seemed to really be contemplating the idea and apparently, John B felt like he could push the sheriff over the edge. “How ‘bout this,” Your brother walked closer to the two. “We find Groff, call you. He’s all yours.”

Shoupe shook his head and tossed his hands in the air, frustration winning over. “I eat shit either way. All right. Yeah, you’re welcome. Go on, before the cavalry gets here. Get out of here.”

The sound of incoming sirens rang in your ears and it suddenly became very clear that you were going to have to get on a boat, an enclosed space, with Rafe Cameron… for who knows how long. Great! Awesome! It’s the best day ever!

You wanted to throw up.

It seemed you weren’t the only one thinking about it as Pope fell back into step with you, Sarah taking the opportunity to catch up with John B while Kie kept an eye on JJ. Cleo caught up on your other side to loop her arm with yours and you were sandwiched between the couple as you guys started following Rafe.

“You okay with all of this?” Pope asked quietly, his gaze switching from Rafe to you.

You shrugged. “I don’t…not really, but there’s not much of a choice, you know? It’s our only option of getting JJ off this island and I can’t be the reason that doesn’t happen.”

He hesitated in his reply. Part of him knew you were right, this was a rare opportunity and if you didn’t take it, the other option was much worse. But at the same time, he hated the idea of you feeling so uncomfortable and unsafe for the time it would take for the trip. It wasn’t fair.

“He comes near you, I cut his throat,” Cleo spoke like she wasn’t threatening someone’s life, and it almost made you laugh as you turned to her with an appreciative smile. “I’m serious, girly. One wrong look and he loses at least a toe.”

Rafe had taken over steering the fishing boat which kept him occupied and away from you, thankfully. Calling this a vacation was so far from the truth, and as you all drifted past Poguelandia 2.0, you wanted to burst into tears. You were so homesick for a feeling that you rarely got anymore, but eighteen months of it had been so good.

Your back was against the dirty wall of the upper deck of the boat, knees to your chest as your friends conversed around you. There was nothing more you wanted than to go back to the night of JJ’s proposal before Groff showed up, and to just start over. Everyone was so happy and excited, life felt normal for you guys, and then it all went to shit.

“So what, we’re just going to Africa now? Quick little weekend trip?”

“What about Rafe?” Pope ignored Kie’s rhetorical question. “We know what he did to the cross, and now we want to go after the crown with him? That makes zero sense.”

“Sarah, you’re his family. How do we deal with Rafe?”

The blonde girl shook her head and shrugged. “I really have no idea. I don’t know.”

John B sighed, “Alright, well, it seems like we’re stuck on this boat with him, so we gotta talk to him. And actually, I have a lot to say so-” He got to his feet and brushed his hands on his pants, puffing his chest out all macho-like.

“You know, John B, I think I do too.” JJ was standing up next, his stance matching your brother’s and you rolled your eyes.

“Stop.” You rubbed your hands over your face as the command made them freeze in their steps. “Sit the fuck down. This is really dramatic and unnecessary.”

“Unnecessary?” JJ repeated the word like it was an insult. “Babe, I know you didn’t forget what he put you through and-”

You were on your feet instantly and closing the gap, your chest nearly pressing against his. “Of fucking course I didn’t forget it, JJ! I see it in my nightmares. It’s burned into my head no matter what I do. So no, I didn’t forget any of it.”

Forcing yourself to take a deep breath and calm down, you took a step back from him so you could look at John B too. “I know you both could say, and do, a lot to him right now. But it will not help us get to Morocco or keep the peace and I do not want anyone going overboard off this boat like last time, do you hear me?” You looked pointedly at JJ, not wanting any repetition of him getting knocked the fuck out and falling off the boat like he did before Poguelandia.

“She’s got a point,” Cleo added, watching the two boys sternly. “Don’t cause a scene, rude boy.”

“Fine,” JJ exhaled. He was doing his best to keep his emotions at bay, but you were still frustrated with him, and now you were tense as fuck with Rafe so close, not that he blamed you. He didn’t want to push his luck, but he needed to talk to you soon. “So who’s going in?”

Your friends were still looking at you the way they looked to John B when they needed a plan. And even though it made bile burn in your throat, you had your answer.

“I’ll talk to him.”

Turning on your heels, you walked away from their quick protests like you couldn’t hear a word and forced the thoughts out of your head. Giving your best poker face, you stepped into the helm where Rafe was hovering over the wheel.

“Rafe.” Your voice was clipped as you grabbed his attention and he turned, shocked that you were even speaking. “Just here to talk.”

He looked back at the water ahead, biting down on his lip. He didn’t want to admit that you made him nervous and defensive, but his shitty ego was kicking into gear as a protective measure. “Alright, let’s talk.”

You moved around to his other side and crossed your arms. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the Pogues poking their heads in the door to keep an eye on you.

“Before you start yapping-” He reached down to shift the hem of his shirt to reveal a gun tucked in the waistband of his shorts. “See this? It’s-”

“I don’t give a fuck,” You interrupted and he nearly flinched at the hatred in your voice. “You’ve done worse. Drop the ego. Just you and me.”

“Just you and me?” Rafe rolled his eyes and let his shirt fall back into place, trying not to let you see his shaky hands. “We just gonna act like your friends aren’t right behind me?”

You nodded, keeping your expression blank and tucking your lips. “Yeah, in fact, we are. Look-”

He laughed loudly, and you almost faltered but caught yourself. “I just saved your asses and there’s not even a thank you? No good deed goes unpunished. It’ll be just like Barbados, right, sweetheart?”

You let out a breath. You refused to back down, knowing this was just his defense mechanism kicking in. “Fuck you, Rafe. If I remember correctly, we made it out of there together. Did you forget about the months I was locked in your house and you spilled all your deep dark secrets after you drugged the shit out of me? Let’s not act all high and mighty now.”

The boundaries had been pushed and the trigger in Rafe snapped. He took a step toward you and before you even had a chance to blink, JJ was in his way.

The Cameron boy laughed at the reaction but continued to look at you over JJ’s shoulder. “Look, I don’t want any part of your little fairy tale treasure hunt bullshit. I’m just looking for Groff. I get you to North Africa, you get me to Groff? Deal?”

“Hey, Rafe? Watch your mouth when you talk to her next time.”

JJ’s fist connected with Rafe’s head and the older boy collapsed to the ground. You gasped, your jaw dropping in shock. What. The. Fuck.

“I had him!” You yelled in frustration. You looked at the girls with wide eyes and all three of them had no answers to give you. Not that you didn’t love JJ’s protective nature when it came to you, but all attempts at keeping peace just went out with Rafe’s consciousness.

“Jesus, JJ!” John B scolded as they all crowded into the small area. The blond boy wasn’t listening, however, and shook his hand out with a cheer. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I mean, honestly, if he didn’t do it, I was going to.”

The group fell into the normal sense of calm for the most part after Pope and Cleo tied Rafe up in the cleaning closet, a cohesive agreement that nobody really trusted him.

You were trying your best not to shut down - overstimulated and nearly spiraling from the shitshow of a day you’ve had, not to mention you still weren’t really talking to JJ. He had always been this way when he was scared, the survival instinct outweighing his more responsible thoughts. You were just pissed he shot first and didn’t ask questions, even when a bullet came flying back as a response. There really was no anger between the two of you, but you were easily frustrated and getting grumpier by the minute.

Hence the reason you sent John B out there to talk to him so you could lounge with Sarah instead. She accepted you with open arms, letting you crawl into the small bed next to her so you two could snuggle under the blankets for warmth.

“You okay?” She asked quietly once you’d settled next to her.

You pursed your lips and blinked. “I um… it’s weird, knowing Rafe’s right here. And I’m still upset with JJ. But it’s fine. Are you?”

Sarah watched you curiously, always amazed by the way you compartmentalized everything (even if you didn’t think so). She admired you for continuing to take the step every day, even when you didn’t want to force a fake smile.

“I’m okay,” She answered honestly. “I don’t like being out here, and I don’t like that Rafe is here and we aren’t home. But I’m okay.”

You nodded understandingly, your gaze dropping to the ring you’d been twisting around your finger out of nerves. A new growing habit that made you feel bittersweet. In moments like these, there was nothing you craved more than JJ’s presence. But like you’d said before, you were learning to separate your feelings and comprehension from relying on him. That didn’t mean it wasn’t hard as fuck to not run to him when you were feeling down.

Meanwhile, John B was approaching JJ on the main fishing deck, the blonde pacing as he whispered to himself.

“Dude, what’s your deal?” John B came off a little harsher than he intended, but once he saw the slight look of pain on Sarah’s face after JJ’s punch, he wasn’t sure what to do. Sure, Rafe was Sarah’s brother, one of the only family members left that she had some form of contact with. On the other hand, this was the same person who broke you down to your core and left you as a scrap of the person you used to be.

So, yeah. John B was confused.

“I don’t know,” JJ groaned and pulled at his tousled hair. He really needed to talk to you. Guilt was gnawing at him for putting you in danger, for being the reason you were pushed into coming on this boat, for making things worse than they already were. “I’m losing my fucking mind, JB, like he’s here and-”

“Listen to me.” John B grabbed his best friend’s shoulders, effectively ceasing the pacing and getting JJ to focus on him alone. When the blond boy met his eyes, the Routledge boy sighed, “Dude, I get it, yeah? I’m terrified too and I’m really sorry. About your-your dad, this whole thing with Hollis, and Poguelandia. I’m really sorry, but we need you right now, J. I really need you to get your shit together. If not for me or yourself, for her. Okay?”

JJ nearly gulped but nodded. He’d come to know that there were two things in this world John B didn’t play about: you and Sarah. And honestly, JJ didn’t fuck around on that idea either, considering you were his entire world and Sarah was the sister he never had. So if John B of all people was telling him to get his shit together, he needed to get it together. “She’s so mad at me, dude. And I just- shit.”

“If anyone knows how to fix this shit, it’s gonna be you,” The older boy reassured when JJ started to ramble. As much as John B wished he could fix everything for his friends, it wasn’t possible, but he also knew if there was anything JJ could do, it was make you happy.

John B pulled JJ into a hug, the two boys holding each other tightly. Unspoken words said everything and they both realized the lives they’d come to know with you and Sarah were at risk with each passing moment. Now, they had to protect it with everything they had.

You woke up sometime after to find Sarah missing from next to you and the smell of food filling the air. JJ had replaced your best friend’s spot, soft snores leaving his mouth as he slept soundly. A small smile formed on your lips as you traced his jawline gently, soaking in how peaceful he looked.

There was a reason you didn’t want to chat with him earlier and it simply boiled down to your emotions being at an all time high. Conversations when both of you were grumpy and peak frustrated were not helpful in any way, and when you almost laid into him earlier, you knew to take a step back.

“Mm hi,” JJ hummed, his eyes still closed as you continued to move your fingers across his skin slowly.

“Hi,” You returned the greeting with a small laugh and nearly gasped when the boat took a dip you weren’t prepared for. JJ’s eyes opened at the movement, blinking slowly as he shifted to face you. His arm fell across your hip, fingertips digging into your back soothingly in the spot that had always seemed to bother you ever since Pope crashed the Carreras’ truck.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” You apologized, letting your hand drop beneath you. “And now that I’m thinking about it, I really hope these are clean sheets.”

JJ laughed and shifted forward to kiss you, relishing in the way you sighed contently and chased for more. He wasn’t one to deny you, ever. You could scream at him for two hours and ask for a smoothie and he’d run across Kildare to get your favorite one without question.

“Don’t need to apologize to me. I’m sorry for acting out. Shouldn’t have put you in that position ever,” He spoke in between kisses as his fingers slipped under your shirt to dance across your skin.

“S’okay.”

He tugged you even closer so you could tuck your head under his chin, burying your nose against his collarbone. It was no secret you guys were on borrowed time with Morocco nearing. You could only sit in a comfortable silence, soaking up the time with each other before you were going to be on the run again.

“Promise me you won’t do anything stupid when we get here?” You asked quietly, pressing a soft kiss to his throat. “Can’t lose you, J. Not now and not ever.”

“Promise. As long as it doesn’t involve you,” He quickly added, making you roll your eyes and flick his forehead lovingly. “Ow, babe!”

“Wuss,” You mumbled, wiggling your leg between his so you were fully pressed against him. JJ was always so warm.

And then the room went dark.

“What the fuck?” JJ asked quietly, his heart starting to race. He was no genius, but losing electricity on a boat was clearly not a good thing.

The two of you shifted apart slightly and you sat up, only the one dim emergency light providing any source of sight for you. You could hear shit clattering around in the other rooms and could barely make out Pope’s voice if you listened closely.

“J-” Your concerns were interrupted as the blond boy went tumbling from the bed from a particularly sharp drop and you nearly laughed at the sight. “What the fuck is going on!”

JJ groaned from the fall, attempting to gain some footing as he stood up, holding on to his surroundings for help. “We gotta move, come on.”

You took his outstretched hand and followed him out of the cabin area as carefully as possible. Whatever was rocking the boat was massive and you could only hope John B knew what the fuck he was doing.

“Shit!” You cursed as you lost your footing and tumbled into JJ’s back, both of you sliding across the floor chaotically. “Sorry!”

JJ pinned himself against the hallway walls, tucking you into his side as he continued to move strategically. “I need to go check on John B!” He called over the alarm that was now blaring throughout the boat.

Pushing forward, JJ opened the door that lead to the kitchen area where you found Cleo and Pope hunkered down, both soaked with water and looking quite spent compared to normal.

“You guys okay?” You asked to which Cleo nodded.

“Sarah went looking for John B!” Pope explained, worry evident in his voice as he looked to the direction the girl disappeared to.

“I got her!” JJ shouted back before turning to you. “Stay here, okay? I’ll be right back.”

You stared at him like he was crazy (he was, duh) and watched as he started walking toward the exit to the main deck. “JJ, fucking stop!”

Your pleas were left ignored as the blond opened the door to the onslaught of waves, wind, and storm raging outside. Cursing to yourself, you tried to follow as best as you could with your feet slipping across the water.

Pope was shouting your name, the sound lost in the wind that was suddenly rushing in your ears. A large swell took over the side and washed you into the rail with it, your body tumbling into the metal ungracefully.

You groaned and tried to get your vision to focus despite the rain attacking you. “JJ!”

“Sarah!”

John B’s voice was clear over the chaos around you and it was then that you caught sight of the blurb of white amongst the metal deck. Suddenly, it felt like you couldn’t breathe as you watched a rush of water takeover the boat completely, slamming you against the floor again.

A scream echoed in your ears before you registered JJ’s voice following it. Pushing yourself to your feet, you tried to cling to the metal railings to get closer to Sarah. The water rushed past you, various supplies and debris flowing with it until it caught on your best friend’s form and swept her out into the open water.

“Sarah!” You screamed, all conscious safety precautions flying out the window as you rushed forward only to be stopped by a pair of arms around your waist. “Get off of me!”

“Stop!” JJ shouted at you, shoving you back harsher than he intended and you tripped, your back colliding with the wall as you fell. Using the momentum, JJ flung forward to cross the deck and grab the life preserver, throwing it with more precision than you knew he had to Sarah as she fought the waves.

There was zero hesitation in his actions as he jumped in after the orange ring, disappearing into the dark waves.

“JJ, no!” Your scream burned your throat as you lost sight of him and Sarah both, their forms blending in with the harsh waters surrounding you. John B was suddenly tumbling into you, anchoring you back to the floor when you tried to crawl out of his grip. You shoved against his hands, your actions frantic and rough. “John B, let me go.”

“Stop, stop!” He yelled, his hold even tighter just as you slipped through and he screamed your name.

Rafe, hearing the shouting and having been freed by Kiara, slammed the cabin door open to call after his sister before he caught sight of you trying to get to your feet on the slippery surface. Despite the annoyance and frustration he held toward your group right now, he knew staying out here was risky and he needed to get the two of you inside.

The second he realized you were ready to take off, Rafe was moving to catch you around the waist and tug you back, the two of you hitting the ground as a wave drowned you in water.

Rafe’s movement caught John B’s attention. He had continued to stare at the open water with the sinking realization that both of you just watched the loves of your lives disappear into stormy waters with slim chances of survival. Your older brother was numb, the world around him quiet as he looked up to see the Cameron boy. There was no smart answer to the next steps, but John B was certain that he couldn’t risk losing you too.

Against his better judgement, John B pushed onto his knees and looped his arms around you to haul you off the floor and over to Rafe who was quick to take his own protective hold on you. The two boys moved as quickly as possible back inside despite the waves crashing relentlessly around them.

The second Rafe set you down on the bench seat, you screamed and shoved his chest as hard as possible, finding satisfaction in the way he hit the cabinets against the wall. You stood up quickly, vision blurring from the movement as you approached him. Your balance was suddenly steady as fuck, the adrenaline rushing its course and keeping you on your feet.

“Don’t ever touch me again!” Your glare was sharp as knives before you turned your focus to the boy you’d called your brother. “What is wrong with you!”

“Me?” John B’s voice cracked as he brushed wet hair from his face, chest still heaving in shock. “You were going to kill yourself!”

“Would it matter?” You shouted back, arm pointing behind him where the raging waters continued through the windows. “They’re gone, John B! And we just watched them fall without doing a fucking thing!”

John B flinched at your words, his expression devastating as he took in what you’d said. He promised to keep Sarah safe, and he just stood there as she was washed out to sea. He’d live with that guilt for the rest of his life.

You shook your head, your whole body shaking from being in fight mode. “I don’t want to live in a world that he’s not in. I shouldn’t have to.”

“Look, maybe they’ll be able to wait it out and swim to shore when they have a chance, okay?” Kie offered as she placed a hand on your shoulder in attempt to diffuse the situation.

You glared at her, blinded by your sadness and anger that you couldn’t even see she had a point. John B and Sarah had survived rocky waters once before Nassau. It could be done again. You shook her hand off and bit back a sob, feeling completely defeated in every way possible.

The ship rocked again and you nearly tumbled to the floor but kept it together. In a room full of people, you felt so alone. You’d just watched the one person who understood you, who had taken you with all your scars and broken pieces and swore to help you put it all back together, disappear in front of your eyes. And you didn’t do a thing to help him.

And Sarah, your best friend and confidant, the one you turned to when you needed a break and a reminder of how good life could be… lost to the waters that almost took her from you once before.

You were so, so tired of always losing.

The ship continued to rock for hours. With no power and no way to steer, there was nothing left to do besides ride out the waves and hope you hit shore somewhat close to Morocco.

Pope was eventually able to get you to calm down enough that you agreed to go back to the sleeping quarters to talk to him, Cleo following along to offer her support as much as she could. That left an unusual three, Rafe, Kie, and John B, to fill the obvious void left in the room.

Minutes faded to hours and all you could do was stare numbly at the worn walls of the boat. You wished you could disappear into the sheets beneath you and never come back.

Pope tried Kiara’s tactic of reminding you it was possible for them to keep their heads above water, but you knew better. JJ still had a massive wound on his side and had been left in the open calm water for hours the other day, which left him exhausted as it was. Sarah was pregnant, and even though she hadn’t seen a doctor yet to confirm, using energy to swim was draining, let alone doing it for hours in rough waves.

You didn’t move even when John B came into the room later, his eyes red and glossed over with tears. There was nothing to say, but he was mourning as much as you were and sitting in a room with Rafe Cameron wasn’t helping him in the slightest.

Sitting with your back against the wall, you stared unmoving at the bed across from you, swaying along with the boat’s movement. Nausea swirled in your stomach and if you didn’t focus enough, your dinner would end up all over the bed. You could barely breathe as it was, anxiety attack still fighting its way through even after you’d sobbed in Cleo’s arms for what felt like forever.

John B hauled himself up to sit next to you, wincing at the pull on sore spots from falling when the windshield of the helm busted on him earlier. He wasn’t quite sure how to approach this conversation, but he couldn’t let this burn a bridge between the two of you, not now.

Apparently, you were done fighting because your head dropped to rest on his shoulder and your knees pulled up to your chest as a shaky breath left your frame. John B accepted the win, moving to settle his arm across your shoulders so you could curl into his side more.

You sniffled, tears falling slowly as you sank into your brother’s embrace. Your mind was reeling and John B was a pillar of home for you to ground yourself with.

So the two of you stayed there, crying in each other’s hold as the boat continued to rock amongst the storm of your lives. There wasn’t a need to talk, the silence saying enough on its own. If worse came to worst, the two of you would only have each other to lean on through the nightmare your lives were slowly becoming.

It wasn’t until Pope came to collect you, finding the two of you half asleep while sitting and explained that you’d been beached, the awkward angle of the boat confirming his words. John B stayed close as you all grabbed what was left of your belongings and jumped into the chilly waters below.

The sunset was taunting as you swam through the water toward the sandy area ahead. The once dark and stormy clouds were bright with color, a stark contrast to how angry they had been only a short time ago.

Cleo was on her feet after finding shallow water before she was reaching down to help you stand. You shuffled through the water awkwardly, your backpack heavy against you before you hit the dune and let out a heavy sigh. Your friends scattered around you, Rafe included, as you all tried to catch your breath and bearings.

John B squeezed your shoulder lightly, mumbling that he was going to check the area for anything that would lead to Sarah and JJ. You nodded absentmindedly before shrugging off your backpack.

Pope eventually settled on the idea of getting a campsite up and moving to help keep you all warm for the night. You followed his directions quietly, piling up the burnable items you could locate before piecing them together.

You froze as you pulled JJ’s lighter from the waterproof backpack. The P4L he’d carved in with a knife traced under your fingers like it had for years, your chest tightening at the sight of it. Biting your lip, you handed it over to Pope before you had time to linger on it.

The metal felt so familiar and fragile in his hand that Pope nearly broke down at the sight of it. He was trying really hard to keep it together, knowing you were all looking to him for some sort of guidance in some way. Reality was, one of his best friends potentially drowned in the ocean, and he wasn’t sure he could handle going through that while also searching for a treasure that was supposed to save them in the first place.

Flames came to life shortly after, the warmth spreading around you as the five of you huddled closely. John B rejoined you shortly after, a piece of your heart breaking when he explained that he didn’t find anything at all.

“Maybe they just washed up further down the beach,” Cleo suggested as she dug her knife into the sand, flicking the handle as she did. “We just gotta keep looking. Check in the mornin’.”

As much as you wanted to disagree, Cleo had a mind to her that was usually correct. You really had no other choice than to bundle together and try to sleep through the night. Tomorrow would be a new day and hopefully you’d start it off much better than this one.

You stared at the sky as the stars sparkled back, mockingly. And then the night went on.

True to her word, Cleo was up and moving the next morning. After recruiting Kiara and Pope to help her catch some fish using a net she brought from the boat, you had a hodgepodge of items for breakfast.

Kiara nudged your foot when you didn’t grab anything for yourself, and she split her banana in half to hand it to you. You glanced at her, tempted to shake your head and continue without an appetite, but when she gave you a look, you admitted defeat and took the fruit from her hand.

The only grace you were really given was that Rafe was keeping his space from all of you, claiming a patch of sand away from the group to himself. You didn’t want to act like you were all buddy buddy since he saved you from jumping overboard, but at least he didn’t throw you there himself.

“Hey.” Said boy’s voice carried your way and you looked up to see him on his feet, hands shielding his eyes from the sun as he looked at something. John B was standing too, looking in the same direction, and your heart jumped in your chest before you got up to take a glance.

Slowly moving on one of the patches of sand surrounded by water were two figures that almost looked like ants. You could barely make anything else out since it was so far. You glanced at John B to find him already staring back.

“Let’s go,” You offered, reaching a hand out toward him. He took it with a nod of confirmation, carefully guiding you down the steep slope of sand. Your bare feet slid every now and then with the shifting terrain before the two of you were on solid ground again. You could only walk for so long before your anxiety got the best of you and you were running, hand separating from John B just so he could keep pace next to you.

Coming to the top of a dune, the second you caught sight of a white dress that looked like it’d been through hell, you were sprinting with a cry, leaving John B in the dust. Your brother took off shortly after, figuring your actions weren’t uncalled for.

Blinking through tears, JJ was already there to catch you, just like he always was. You slammed into him full force, a sob escaping your mouth as you held him like your life depended on it. His hand grabbed the back of your head, the other looping around your waist to hold you up against him as the two of you sobbed in relief.

“I gotcha, baby.”

You cried at the sound of his voice, squeezing him tighter. Fingers tangling in his hair, your knees nearly gave out when he set you down before wrapping you into another hug, holding you close to his chest.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” He promised, his own hands shaking as he took in your presence. “Shit, I-”

You cut him off with a heavy kiss, tears slipping down your cheeks as you finally looked into his eyes. Your favorite color looked back at you and you swore it was the most beautiful thing you’d seen in your life.

JJ kissed you again, arms tight around your waist as he pulled you up to your tiptoes and you giggled. “I love you.”

“I love you, holy shit,” He breathed out when you separated before kissing your forehead. “Sorry, I know I scared you and I promised I wouldn’t-”

“I don’t care,” You interrupted softly, your thumb brushing his cheekbone as you took in the sight of him, alive and breathing in front of you. “You came back, that’s what matters.”

JJ nearly cried and kissed you again, practically stealing the last bit of air from your lungs. “Where you go, I go, baby. Always.”

The two of you stood there a moment longer, holding each other like the world would break apart if you let go. You were sick to your stomach with relief and your heart was practically in your throat, but you were both here and JJ was alive, and that’s all that mattered.

“Sarah?” You gasped the girl’s name, your mind so occupied with JJ’s return that you’d missed her and you shifted in search of her.

“She’s okay,” JJ reassured, his hand rubbing across your lower back in comfort. You turned to see the blonde girl running toward you with open arms and you didn’t hesitate to meet her halfway, the two of you crying in relief as you rocked back and forth.

“Holy shit, hi,” She laughed through her tears, squeezing you tightly.

You held her face carefully, eyes searching for any sign of discomfort as your own laugh slipped through. “Are you okay?”

She nodded, the back of her hand brushing tears off her cheeks. “You’ve got one hell of a swimmer for a fiancé, saved my ass.”

You laughed again, your hands falling to her shoulder as you glanced back to see John B and JJ hugging each other tightly. You turned back to Sarah with a smile. “Thank fuck you’re back, I cannot handle my brother on my own.”

She pulled you in for another hug, the two of you squeezing each other tightly before you felt two sets of arms join you as the boys wiggled their way in.

“Hey, let me in here.”

“Just gonna squeeze right in.”

The four of you burst into laughter, smiles all around as you and Sarah held your boys close and thanked the stars for shining even through the dark of the night.

a/n: guys wtf!!!!!!! ahhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!

navigation -- series masterlist

ask me anything

#outer banks x reader #jj maybank x reader #goy series #jj maybank #outer banks #outer banks imagine #jj maybank imagine #john b routledge #jj x you #outer banks series #jj maybank angst #jj maybank x you #routledge!reader #rafe cameron #kiara carerra #pope heyward #cleo anderson #outer banks netflix

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celestialmatcha7 · 20 days ago

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broken promises | nam-gyu (player 124)

word count: 1k

pairing: baby daddy! nam-gyu x fem! reader

genre: angst </3

summary: y/n is a young mother struggling with the heartbreak of her partner nam-gyu's drug addiction, which keeps pulling him away from their family. one night, after he comes home late and high again, y/n confronts him, demanding he choose between his destructive habits or his family.

The apartment was eerily quiet, save for the soft hum of the fridge and the occasional coo of your baby, Mei, in the bassinet. You sat on the couch, staring blankly at the clock on the wall. Midnight. He was late—again.

You’d told yourself not to get your hopes up this time, but a small part of you still clung to the memory of who Nam-gyu used to be. The man who held your hand during every doctor’s visit, who kissed your belly and promised Mei would never want for anything. That man seemed like a ghost now, fading further away with every missed promise.

Mei stirred, a soft cry breaking the silence. You immediately got up, scooping her into your arms. “Shh, it’s okay, sweet girl,” you murmured, rocking her gently. “I’ve got you.”

The rhythmic sway of your arms calmed her, but it couldn’t calm the storm brewing inside you. You glanced toward the door again, your jaw tightening as the minutes ticked by. This wasn’t the first time Nam-gyu had promised he’d come home early, and it certainly wasn’t the first time he’d broken that promise.

The front door creaked open suddenly, startling both you and Mei. Nam-gyu stumbled in, his disheveled hair and the faint chemical scent on his clothes telling you everything you needed to know. His eyes, bloodshot and glassy, avoided yours as he kicked off his shoes, letting them clatter against the wall.

“You said you’d be home earlier,” you said, your voice low but trembling with suppressed anger. “We needed you.”

He waved a hand dismissively, slumping onto the couch. “I had… things to handle. You wouldn’t understand.”

“I wouldn’t understand?” You scoffed, clutching Mei closer. “All I understand is that we’re drowning in debt because you and Thanos thought MG Coin was going to make you millionaires. And now I’m the one paying the bills while you’re out getting high!”

His head snapped up at the mention of Thanos. “Don’t bring him into this. He’s got nothing to do with tonight.”

“Really? Because every time you’re out until God knows when, you’re with him, coming up with another genius plan that’s going to fix everything. But nothing gets fixed, Nam-gyu. It just gets worse.”

He groaned, leaning back and rubbing his temples. “I’m trying, okay? Do you think this is easy for me?”

“Trying? No, you’re not trying. You’re running. From me, from her, from everything.” Tears stung your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. “I can’t keep doing this, Nam-gyu. I can’t keep pretending you’ll change when every night ends the same.”

He looked at you, his expression softening for a moment. “I love you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You wanted to believe him. You wanted to cling to the scraps of the man you’d fallen in love with, but his words felt hollow, drowned out by months of broken promises and half-hearted apologies.

“Love isn’t enough,” you said, clutching Mei closer as she settled against your chest. “Not when you’re choosing this over us.”

He stood abruptly, pacing the room in agitation. “You think I want to be like this? I didn’t ask for this life either, Y/N. I’m trying to survive—”

“Survive?” You cut him off, your voice rising despite your efforts to stay calm. “You’re killing yourself, Nam-gyu. And you’re dragging us down with you. Do you know how humiliating it is to get calls from debt collectors? To beg the landlord for an extension on rent because all our money went into your bad choices?”

Mei stirred again, her tiny whimper breaking your heart even further. You took a deep breath, willing yourself to stay steady. “I need you to choose,” you said quietly. “Us or the drugs. Because I can’t keep raising her like this—watching you destroy yourself and letting her see it, too.”

His steps faltered, and for a moment, you thought he might say something, do something to prove you wrong. But instead, he turned toward the coat rack, grabbing his jacket.

“Where are you going?” you asked, panic rising in your chest.

“I need some air,” he replied, avoiding your gaze. “I’ll be back.”

“You always say that,” you whispered, barely audible, but he didn’t hear—or chose not to.

The door closed behind him with a finality that made your heart ache.

You sank onto the couch, Mei cradled in your arms. Her tiny fingers wrapped around yours, anchoring you to the moment. Your mind raced with questions. Would he be back tomorrow? Next week? Ever? How many more nights would you spend like this, waiting and wondering if he’d choose you?

Hours passed, and the baby fell asleep in your arms. You carried her to the nursery, tucking her into the crib and lingering there for a while, watching her peaceful expression. She didn’t know the chaos swirling around her, and you vowed to protect her from it as much as you could.

Back in the living room, the emptiness felt overwhelming. His coat was gone, his shoes weren’t by the door, and the faint smell of smoke still lingered in the air. It was like he had taken every part of him and left you with nothing but the void.

You sat down on the couch, pulling a blanket over your shoulders as tears finally spilled over. You didn’t cry for him—not anymore. These tears were for yourself, for Mei, for the life you’d imagined and the reality you were left with.

Holding your phone in trembling hands, you debated calling him. But deep down, you knew the cycle would only repeat itself.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you whispered to yourself.

Mei stirred in the other room, and you stood, wiping your face. “It’s just you and me now, sweetheart,” you murmured as you peeked into the nursery. “No matter what, I’ll make sure we’re okay.”

Outside, the night swallowed him whole, and with it, the part of you that had always hoped he’d change.

But as the first rays of dawn crept through the blinds, you realized you had something he didn’t—a reason to keep going, a reason to fight.

And you would fight. For her. For yourself. Even if you didn’t know when—or if—he’d ever come back.

#namgyu x reader #namgyu angst #nam-gyu angst #nam gyu x reader #player 124 x reader #player 124 #namgyu #squid game s2 #squid game angst #squid game #squid game x reader

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postmoe · 6 months ago

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In the Next Moment:

Yandere/Alpha Gojo Satoru x Omega Reader

I can't even tell you how long ago I started this. I had no idea how to end it and I took away and added a bunch of things haha. Here is your alpha Gojo Satoru, here to save the day and take you for himself!

omegas are lesser creatures, familial abuse, self-deprecation, like your father in this is literal scum

What kind of God deals a life like this? Where status is given the moment you’re born. Where you can be cast away at birth and shoved into a home just for having the wrong scent. It used to be that families would wait until puberty before they knew what breed their child would be. Now? Now they have the technology to make accurate guesses. Not one hundred percent, but, accurate enough.

In your case, call it lucky or not, your family didn’t send you away to a home. Omega’s aren’t completely useless, and can fetch quite a high penny on the market. Every day you were reminded of your failures as their daughter, that being bred by them should have produced an alpha.

“This is all your fault,” your mother would say to your father, “Your cousin is an omega, it runs in your bloodline!”

“How was I supposed to know?! No one ever spoke of them I had no idea until we did the test!” He would shout back.

It’s a common argument you heard growing up. One that would seep into the marrow of your bones and claw its way into your dreams. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. Even though they argued with each other, at the end of the day it came out to you being wrong. You were a curse.

Eventually, your mother left. Being an alpha with you in the home, it was irredeemable. She had not bonded with an omega like her DNA screamed, your father a Beta and those relationships were never to last if an Omega came into the picture. Just an example of the homewrecker in your genes.

He would drink and smoke on the couch all day and night. “We had such a happy family, such high hopes for you…” Another swig of the bottle in his hand, “It’s your job to take care of us now. Your mother did everything. Go make some money and bring it back home.”

Quivering, afraid to even speak in front of him, you had to ask, “B-But what if people find out I’m a- AH!”

You cower as the bottle smashes against the brick wall next to your head, glass and liquor breaking around while your father stands and screams, “You stupid bitch! Go get blockers, fuck! How hard is it to come up with things on your own? You’re so fucking pathetic, stupid fucking omega,” he continues to grumble as he storms past you, “Clean up this fucking mess.”

Of course, you’ve thought about running away, thought about life outside of your home. The realism of it is not pretty, though. You’ve seen how omegas are treated on the streets if they get caught, they’re not allowed in the city because their scent can be such a disturbance. You have to be really taken care of to live amongst others. If you weren’t so rare then it wouldn’t be an issue, but unfortunately omegas can’t be shared around to every alpha.

Getting blockers is probably the hardest job. Most doctors don’t want to sell them to you unless you have a good reason for being an omega, ie; rich spouse, breeding bitch, selling, etc. Anything on the black market is a gamble between being really good or really shit. Eventually, another omega you came across in passing had recommended a ‘hole in the wall’ doctor. They hide down an alleyway in the slums of the city but are open to helping omegas. When you went there it had ignited your fear and you started releasing poor, omega pheromones. Many, hungry looks your way were cast, though thankfully you made it out in one piece.

Now you were left to try and survive in the wild.

“Yo!” Your head shoots up from the stall oven, seeing a familiar head of white hair and blindfolded head.

Honestly, you were shocked, once people found out the ‘lovely’ attendant at the crepe stall was an omega, they generally never returned. “Ah,” you try not to gape at him, “You’re back. You didn’t come with your, um, students?”

It’s been a little over a year now that you’ve manned the crepe stall in a deserted park. You think that’s why your boss put you here, because not many people came by so business wasn’t that great; it also gave him a good excuse to berate you when you didn’t meet income quota. Earlier this week you were met with a unique set of customers, one of them being this man and then two younger boys and a girl to whom he introduced as his students – very proud of them. In that same interaction, whilst the students were enjoying each other’s crepes and you were making his, he had suddenly leaned in and inhaled a few times, sniffing you and grinning cheekily, “You’re an omega, aren’t ya?” It shocked you because you shouldn’t be smelling like anything right now, the sugary crepes usually enough to hide and scent that seems to waft from you. Now, he had returned alone, acting as if you were buddies, “My dear students are in a fierce battle! I have made some time to see my favourite crepe omega.”

His words were too loud, you had to look around in fear that maybe he was trying to let others know, trying to get you boycott. However, no one was there. Was he trying to bait you? Maybe you should just go along with it, “Did you really like them that much?”

He perked up, arms open in a welcoming stance, “Of course! The food, the chef, both are a delicious snack~.”

Flirting?! Definitely a joke.

Your shocked expression must’ve spoke volumes as he laughed at you, wiping a faux tear from his blindfolded eyes, “Don’t be so unsure of yourself. Surely a treat like you gets hit on all the time.”

“Are you hearing yourself,” you blurt out without thinking. How could he be so casual about this if he weren’t planning something sinister. All the memories of manipulation and abuse from strangers in your life come flooding back, your body subconsciously recoiling in on itself in defence. Your voice is meeker now, “Please, if you’re going to do something just get over with it.”

The man’s footsteps sound calm as he strides towards you, his hand reaching forward. You cringe in on yourself, awaiting a slap or a hit, only for your body to be taken over by surprise when he speaks, his index finger pointing towards the flat stove-surface of the kiosk, “Your crepe is burning.”

“Oh no!” You squeal, quickly going to flip it off the surface and onto a serviette. Tears start to collect in your eyes as you think of all the different ways you’ll be punished, “Shit shit shit. He’s going to know! He always knows and I can’t hide it, I’m screwed-“

Silence engulfs you as you watch, stunned, at the man who picks up the hot and charred crepe, worms out his tongue and opens his mouth, before scoffing it down in a single gulp. He pulls out a few bills and sets them on the kiosk counter, “Whew! In hindsight I should have put cream or something on it. Definitely not as good as the first one I had.” Honestly… What was his deal? He didn’t question your shocked expression, only smiling and reaching out his finger to wipe at a stray tear, using the kiosk to lean over and reach you, “Name’s Satoru. Or, well, Gojo is my last name and tends to be what others go by. For you, cutie, I’d rather be addressed by something more to heart. So, you free after this? I know a great restaurant near here.”

Your mouth opens and closes, gaping like a dehydrated fish. You didn’t need to look down to see his arms begin to sizzle on the pan, the sound and smell enough to alert you both. Ven so, you informed him with ghostly words, “Your arm is cooking.”

“Not gonna move it ‘til you say yes!”

… You couldn’t believe what your day has come to, “Okay.”

The restaurant he had decided to take you to was something way out of your budget, and just as you were about to voice your concerns for it, he quickly put his finger to your lips and spoke, “Shh, I know what you’re going to say and don’t worry. I’ve got us covered.”

Neither of you were particularly dressed for this place, he wearing a black uniform with the neck of it covering his chin, and you in your small, ripped (not by design) shorts and oversized t-shirt. Even with this, the waiter at the front smiled widely at Satoru, “Gojo-sama! What a pleasant surprise. Table for two?”

You were thankful that the waiter didn’t acknowledge you. No greeting yet no glare or scowl either. Satoru flicked his fingers into guns and pointed at him, “You betch’ya! One of those cosy, independent booths, please.”

“Of course, right this way.” The waiter lead you through the open area of the restaurant, many patrons idly enjoying their dinner with their loved ones by quiet candlelight, whilst the ones you walked slightly too close to were able to smell you and tell just what breed you were, some even trying to complain to their designated waiter. You just hung your head in shame until you got to the booth, following Satoru’s lead until you heard a door being slid shut.

Quickly, you turned to face him, seeing that he had shut you both in a secluded area with a table, the walls made of a deep coloured screen that didn’t quite go to the ceiling, yet provided all the privacy one could need in a place like this. “Don’t worry,” he says, walking around to pull out a chair for you, “The owner and I get along real well. I’ve helped them out a few times.”

He slides the seat in as you sit, and you still can’t get over the fact that he hasn’t done anything bad to you yet. This man has singlehandedly given you the most kindness you have received in your entire life. Perhaps he wants to break your heart in the end, at least you might get a free meal out of it. “I see… Are you a chef? Is that why your hair is up like that and you didn’t flinch when you got burnt?” You knew some chefs were godly in the kitchen and a little stove sizzle wouldn’t quit them.

Satoru laughed, bringing his hands up to act as a resting spot for his chin, “Nooo~ Not a chef, and my hair just sits this way with the blindfold.”

Which brings you on to your next question, “Why do you wear a blindfold? How can you navigate like that?”

His cheeky grin only widens, his hands now moving to sit flat on the table so he can lean forward and whisper, “Would you believe I have… Special powers?”

This made you quirk your eyebrow, now you were unintentionally leaning in as well, “Huh? Behind your blindfold?”

Satoru chuckled, leaning back again in his chair as he nonchalantly waves the discussion away in the air, “Ah, I don’t think you can handle this conversation just yet. Oh! I know, how about this,” he holds his hand up, five fingers pointing towards the sky. Using his other hand, brings down his thumb so he was only showing four fingers, “Four more dates and I’ll reveal my eyes to you.”

Another flustered expression overcame you. You hadn’t even finished this date – this is a date?! – and yet he was already planning more. Subconsciously, you tilt your head away from him, shoulders coming inwards as you mutter, “I don’t have anything to offer you, Satoru.”

“I just,” he falters, and for the first time he sounds a little unsure of how to say something. Easily, his motions fluid and controlled, like he knows exactly what he wants to do, he reaches for your upper arms and pulls them forward, sliding down the length of your arms until he can comfortably hold your hands, “I just need you to be there. That’s all I want.”

You swallow thickly, thinking it over. It wouldn’t hurt to see how tonight turned out, and even if you said no, he knows where you work. You suppose you can see where this takes you, until it falls flat like it should for an omega.

That night, you managed to tip toe back into your home, your father snoring on the couch. It was a miracle you weren’t berated, at least you had thought so until the morning.

Cooking breakfast for him, he had decided now was prime time to slam his fist into the archway of the room, making you flinch as he roared, “You stupid bitch, don’t think I didn’t notice you not home last night. Where the fuck were you?”

What to say… Could you lie? You’d have to lie, he would accuse you of trying to do something shady if you said you had a date. No omega would get a date, especially you, and so that would mean you were planning something bad. Or maybe it was your catastrophising thoughts that made you see it this way, a defence mechanism, if you will. “I was working late,” you tell him, quietly, “My boss is trying to extend the crepe business into later hours for couples on dates.”

To this, your father scoffs, planting his body at the table as he awaits his meal, “No couple would want an omega to serve them, you might try to make off with their mate.”

You really did try to hold your tongue, but maybe Satoru’s easy-going behaviour had mellowed you out a bit, “I just thought you might want the extra money.” It wasn’t a smart-ass comment, but no matter what you’d say he would take it as one.

This morning, he seemed to have had a bad hangover, as he could only growl out, “What was that, you runt? Know your place.”

Oh, how you desired to spit in his food. You gazed longingly at the bacon and eggs you were making, such a simple meal. Last night you had come home to see new pizza boxes laid around. Honestly, you felt a sort of betterment from that. You had dined like royalty, and he was stuck here eating shit from a sole. If only for last night, you were better than him.

…

“A curse?” You questioned, your wide eyes looking over your teacup. It was an authentic, British set, Satoru had taken you out to a little garden café on the other side of the city. It was amongst some of the historic temples around, the trees making you seem far away from the city and the food a kind of exquisite you had never been privy of knowing.

He grinned at you, the skin at the corner of his eyes crinkling from behind his dark glasses, “That’s right! Kind of like a ghost or a monster. They feast on collective, negative energy and such, I don’t want to bore you with the details.”

You tried to keep an open mind, “And you… Hunt them?”

“Yeah! See, now you’re getting it,” he grins, excitedly.

With a smile, you set your cup down and ask, “Are you an author, Satoru?”

He waved his hand dramatically in the air, “Oh, you flatterer, you. I’m not that creative, it’s just my job.”

As much as you wanted to believe him, you couldn’t help the creeping feeling that he was lying to you. Like, this was your third ‘date’ together and he still had yet to bully you or do something horrible. This wouldn’t be too far of a stretch to make you scared and freak out. Maybe he wants to laugh at the weak, little omega and her fear smell. Is that why you were in a crowded café?

“Hey, hey,” he reaches over, holding your hands in his, “I can sense you’re troubled but not for the reason I’d think. You still don’t trust me, do you, (Y/n)?”

Your mouth opens and closes, unsure how to word your thoughts. You were caught in a predicament you didn’t want to be in. Of course you still didn’t trust him, you couldn’t trust him after everything you’ve been through. Would he take such offense to that?

Satoru seems to take your shock as his answer, smiling sincerely at you, “I don’t blame you, it’s okay. That’s why we’re doing these dates! Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from now on.”

Flaming heat erupts on your cheeks, the feeling of his thumbs caressing your skin feeling like an iron, “How can you just say that? You don’t know me and I’m-“ you stop suddenly, looking around you to notice the faces of disgust, you really didn’t need to finish that sentence. Your blockers had grown thin, so now you were cutting them in half to try and spread it out since your doctor was on holiday. Unfortunately, they didn’t prevent the smell of your pheromones enough, it was painfully obvious everywhere you went.

“Ah, my darling omega, you truly are sweet,” he inhales, smiling contentedly, “Once you realise the world is your playground, nothing else matters. I could kill everyone here and take you away, and as long as no one can stop me – and trust me, they can’t -, anything is possible, and your dreams really can come true.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, his words always bordering on genuine and humour. Even with the knowledge of Satoru’s like to play, the undeniable dark truth of a true alpha manages to waft in the air.

Like a switch, he grins widely, all teeth and charisma, “That’s not saying I will, but it’s such a nice feeling, don’t you think?”

It’s quiet as his words sink in. You think about your life so far, how you couldn’t even get away with greeting someone without a knife to your throat and spitting words of how an omega doesn’t get to speak without their alpha allowing them to do so. As much as you’d like to punch them in the gut, you don’t think you’d really want to kill them, everyone growing under their own circumstance. Instead of getting into political debates, you think you don’t want anymore stares and judgement for today, deciding that even if Satoru is okay to talk to, you’re still uncomfortable, “I suppose so, it must be nice having such strength, and being able to see… Curses.”

The rest of the date was enjoyable, and he even answered some of your questions about the creatures he hunts. Apparently, omegas are prime suspects, easy to feast upon and no one questions when they go crazy, the second lot of victims being alphas that had an omega as a child. You’re honestly surprised you and your father haven’t been attacked yet if that’s the case.

Satoru drives you home and it’s relatively quiet in the car, the thrumming of the almost noiseless engine enough to fill the silence. You go back to what Satoru says during your date, and now you’re memorising the smells he emitted during your conversation. Before, it was hard to really tell since you were stressing, and the restaurant was full of blooming alphas and betas. However, now it was lingering through the car. He had spoken so easily about death and killing, like it was second nature to him next to breathing. Some curses were sentient, able to talk and think, and then there was the comment about killing everyone else in the restaurant, who were definitely not curses. He was happy, proud even, to have that kind of strength and show it off to you. Tonka bean and vetiver… Perhaps even an orange blossom. It was nice, even if the reason behind it was a little morbid, and you couldn’t help but close your eyes and indulge.

The scent got stronger, and suddenly you were startled by a low chuckle, your eyes flashing open to see you were leaning towards him. Satoru had slowed down in front of your house and turned the car off, his cheeks a flush in the dim light, “Having you relax around me like that feels so nice. I can’t tell you enough how happy you’ve just made me.”

You open your mouth immediately to say sorry, only to close it after a moment’s thought. He doesn’t smell like he’s trying to bully you or mad that you thought you could get so close to him without repercussions. How much longer can you hold out from someone who is being so kind to you?

“You don’t have to reply to that,” he tells you, saving you from thinking of an acceptable response. Satoru gets out first, hurrying to your side while you unbuckle yourself to let you out. You smile at him and let him take your hand, holding you close as he closes the door and pushes you against the car. A small gasp is pushed from you, surprised at his boldness. You’re lucky that this neighbourhood was relatively quiet, no one being awake at this hour to see you with anyone. “I really want to kiss you,” he says, face inching closer to you, “You have no idea how hard it was for me to hold back in the car.”

Your eyes shift in nervousness, hands coming to press to Satoru’s chest, “W-wait, s’too soon-“

“It’s fine,” he cuts, not letting you get another word out, smashing his lips to yours in a frenzied kiss. Your eyes dilate, his scent and taste making your heart jump with a certain anxiety – excitement – you’re letting your shoulders relax and clenching the front of his shirt as he takes the lead. Maybe… Maybe this isn’t so bad… His leg finds its way between the both of yours and gently grinds down, a small moan slipping from your mouth at the electric feeling. Next, he starts to slowly introduce his tongue to your mouth, the wet muscle a new sensation to you.

Suddenly, you’re hit with an overwhelming pain, your gut tightening and your eyes watering as you double over into his chest. Your body is hot, panting, you lean into him and can hardly hear anything. Satoru is speaking, saying something, ‘sorry’ and ‘test’ are two words you think you understand but you can’t focus on sounds. What does help you, though, is the gentle caress his hand brings to your head. He holds you tight, safe, his pheromones echoing security and comfort through your mind. You mumble into his clothes once you feel you’re able to talk again, “Wh-what was that? That hurt so much…”

Satoru hums, both hands coming to your face which he cradles and regards you with loving eyes, “Have you ever been in heat, (Y/n)?”

You sniffle, shaking your head, “No, I’ve taken suppressants since the day they found out what I was. It made puberty really difficult…”

Satoru’s lips curl into a frown, “I imagine it would. It seems your body jumped into overdrive, the stimulation from kissing alone too much for you.”

Your arms curled around yourself for some comfort, “My suppressants, they’re running low so I’ve been halving them to spread them out but they’re just making me feel sick.”

“When did you start halving them?” He asks, eyes now wide with worry.

“Uhm, I think about a few days ago? But I can’t get a hold of my doctor and it’s hard to find anyone that will willingly prescribe suppressants.” Your head falls into his chest, a feeling of defeat washing over you.

Satoru pets your head, quiet in thought before he says, “Why not just stop taking them?”

You have to laugh at that, tilting your head to look up at him, “You’re joking, right? Please tell me you’re joking.”

“I’m not,” he closes his eyes, burying his nose in your neck and holding you close, “You’ve got me now, I’ll look after you. Fuck, you smell so good.”

“Satoru-“ Your wrists are caught in his as he stares you down.

Or, at least that is what he appears to be doing. You’re stuck in his grasp as you wait for him to make his statement, which he does once your lips smacks shut, “You don’t need to hide who you are anymore. Just think about it, ‘kay?”

To get him off your back you give an exhale of defeat, rolling your eyes to the side and complying, “Fine. I’ll think about it. Cool?”

His charming grin is almost enough to even fool you into thinking it was okay to relinquish your omega self to him, “Cool.”

Things were not cool. Not long after getting inside, your father had waited to pounce once the car Satoru drove was out of sight. Your vision had waned with the punch he threw at you, your body colliding with the hallway wall. “Disgusting!” He had spat, literally, his saliva landing on your cheek and barely missing your eye. His foot was next to make contact, kicking you hard enough in the stomach that you threw up a little of your dinner, “You reek of a fucking omega! I see you whoring yourself out, slut. Tryna hide the money from me, eh?”

Another kick had you crying out, this one on your bicep and knocking you back to the ground. You wailed as he bent down and held your hair in a tight and painful grasp, “I’m not! I swear, I have no money!”

He ignored you, his breath badly stained with alcohol, however, you were certain even without the influence he wouldn’t hold back, “Tryna seduce me? Hm? Your own father? You fucking wretch. If you don’t stop that smell right now I swear to whatever fucking God is out there…”

You were bawling now, you could only assume your hormones were worse, your own senses dull to the smell of you. It hurt internally as well, your omega working overdrive as you try in vain to calm down so you didn’t have to endure the full impact of emitting such helpless hormones. It may not have worked the way you wanted it to, but, your father seemed to calm down with a sneer.

He threw your head to the floor and began walking away, “If you don’t get back on those fucking meds by tomorrow then I will kill you. I promise you that.”

You didn’t dare reply to that, thankful that he decided to walk away while you were still breathing tonight.

How fitting the weather is today, the clouds a dark grey and the skies pouring with rain. You had one umbrella with a hole between two of the spines but it was better than nothing. This morning you left the house with a bag packed and a small suitcase, only the essentials.

You were on a bus ride to the other side of town to see your doctor. If they weren’t going to pick up the phone then you’d have to arrive suddenly. If he didn’t have the suppressors then you weren’t going to go home, in fact, you weren’t entirely sure if you were going to go back anyway. Perhaps a life on the street was better than this. A woman’s shelter wouldn’t take you in for the fact that you were an omega, and an omega shelter had an 80% chance of being a front for something worse than illegal.

The bus stops where you need to be, the passengers loudly exclaiming that they’re happy you’re finally leaving. It doesn’t hurt so much today, you just have one thing on your mind.

‘Why not just kill yourself?’

You stop at the thought, in the middle of opening your umbrella, standing in the rain. It was a thought, right? Ending it was always a nice joke but holy shit that voice sounded like it was right by your ear and… genuine. You weren’t exactly scared, a little shocked, sure but, maybe you should bring that up with your doctor, too.

However, as you got closer and closer to the clinic, you began to think they weren’t open. Though there was the receptionist’s and the doctor’s cars outside, the curtains were drawn, the lights were off and the sign, once you got close enough to read, was saying ‘Closed’.

Your hand reaches to your heart as you feel it thumping hard in anxiety, your pheromones beginning to linger around you as a thick, steady aura. Thank goodness this place was off the city boarder, not many people around to subject you to bullying and hatred. You look back to the cars again, both of them parked neatly in the small lot. Even if it’s closed, you need to push past your nervousness and gently demand your medication. If you didn’t… Well, he knows just as well as you do.

You knock on the glass with a firm hit, calling out for good measure, “Dr. Kodoka, it’s me, (Y/n).”

Silence.

You knock again, if they don’t want to be disturbed then the earlier they open up to you the better. “Dr. Kodoka, please, I really need to talk to you. It’s an emergency,” you plead, hoping he could tell by the sound of your voice how desperate you were.

Your gut drops as more silence is your only response. You probably should have tried this first, grabbing the long handle of the door and trying to open it. No surprise, it’s locked. Perhaps there’s a back entrance? Oh, you feel so seedy scrounging around a doctor’s office.

Past the skip bins there’s a narrow entrance just wide enough for one person between the building and a wired fence. You’re not sure why the wired fence is even here, it’s not attached to anything and only separates a portion of the office from an open wheat field. Luck smiles upon you as you try this door, the entrance clicking open and allowing you to step into the darkness.

One deep breath before you call out has you positively gagging at the disgusting scent that assaults you nose and mouth. It’s unavoidable, the little bit of vomit that works its way up your throat is involuntarily spat out onto the linoleum floor. What. The. Fuck.

This has to be the worst experience you’ve ever been through, the tears in your eyes falling freely as you persevere through the smell. You know you need to call the police, you know something like this isn’t normal. However, if you do, and they find out you’re an omega here to purchase suppressants then there’s a good chance you’ll both be dead. It’s happened before, police getting trigger happy or beating up omegas and any allies. Of course, society doesn’t care. More filth off the streets.

There’s a sound towards the entrance, something being knocked over, as well as some sort of ‘sludging’ noise. Could it be one of them trying to get to the door? Someone must be alive! You quietly move towards the entrance, past the main office, the break room, and peak through the broken door of the reception. It’s horrendous.

All the gore has been maintained in this area. Limbs, a spine, half a head that has been poorly cut from the top of their skull through their chin- and that’s only the background. In the middle of it all, this giant, wrinkly, slug-like creature appears to be waking up. It has an amass of arms and hands over it’s back and sides, and one twitching on the tip of its tail. The stalks that would be its eyes slowly raise, turning in all directions as if looking around.

You fall against the door, your entire being freezing up in a shock mode. The thud of your body hitting the floor alerts it to you, and you notice now that instead of eyes, it was wearing the distraught faces of the doctor and receptionist. The receptionist still had one of her eyes hanging from their socket, whilst the doctor was completely eyeless, with only a couple of teeth and the tip of his tongue drooping from the gaping mouth.

It hones in on your position and starts charging at an alarming pace, the only thing you can do is scream your throat raw as your end nears. It’s too horrifying, too real to be a dream you can escape. The creature splits its mouth with human-like teeth in mismatched rows and thrashing hands over its body and you can’t look away from your demise.

You don’t blink, and because you don’t blink it’s hard to believe anything happened.

As fast as light itself, a man appears and slashes the slug in half, horizontally through its open mouth with a light so white there’s a tint of blue to it. The guttural scream it lets out is so closely related to a human’s that you are only filled with more fear. The man, who turns to give you a cocky wink and that you can now see is Satoru Gojo, makes a crude display of holding his index and middle finger in front of his face and slowly licking his digits with the flat of his tongue; before slicing the creature up into smaller pieces until it bursts into sprays of blood and nothingness.

Your hearing was skewed, you barely recognise his footsteps as he walks towards you and bends down to hold his hand out. You tell your mind to grab it, to accept his kindness after saving you but you’re caught in your own sense of dread and confusion as not a speck of blood is seen on Satoru or his white hair, or his devilish smile, or that black coat with the collar sticking around his neck.

Satoru’s smile softens and he’s sure you can’t hear him when speaks to you, “Ah, I see we’ll have to cut our deal short. That’s okay, we’re only one date off anyway.” He reaches for your hands, placing them both in one of his and stroking the backs with his thumb. He then slowly removes his blindfold and tilts your chin with his free hand to force you to meet his silvery gaze, “(Y/n), sweetheart, look at me. Everything is okay now.”

His eyes are so blue… White… Silver… They’re like crystals or diamonds or two pools of galaxies – they’re out of this world. His lashes are gorgeous too, and for some reason you feel a ping of jealousy amongst all this chaos because how can a man be so beautiful just by taking off his blindfold. Like a character taking off their glasses to reveal they were beautiful all along. Wait, what are these thoughts? In this horrible situation you suddenly feel like giggling.

Satoru chuckles, keeping your focus solely on him as he lifts you in his arms to carry you out. People in suits run past you but neither of you pay them no mind as he keeps talking, “What silly thoughts are going through that omega mind of yours?” You laugh incredulously, feeling your body fall heavier in his arms he adjusts you, “There it is, there’s that adrenaline leaving you. I gotcha, sweetheart.”

You’re sat on the back of an ambulance with a blanket around your shoulders and a bottle of water wedged between your legs. A few feet away is Satoru, talking to someone so casually you wouldn’t think he just killed a monster with his own hands; literally. You watch as he dismisses the person and walks back over to you with a smile, his blindfold back on and his hands coming from his pockets to bring you into a side embrace, “How are you feeling? That was quite an experience, huh?”

Trauma makes people react differently to things, so if this was his job then it makes sense he wouldn’t be so distressed. “I smell of decay,” you sigh, though you weren’t covered in filth you definitely had some stains. Even without the mess, the stale air in the clinic was enough to cling to you. You squeeze the blanket tighter around you, “How could something like this happen? They were generous people. Kind; caring.”

Satoru seemed to think for a moment, as if deciding what the best thing to say right now would be. Whether it was helpful or not, he opted for the truth, placing one of his large hands below your neck for comfort, “They were helping omegas, and regardless of their personality, a lot of stigma comes from there. Constant stress to keep a secret, harsh words from the few friends and family that know, it all adds up and creates the perfect scent for a curse to trail.”

“I remember you saying you that they are attracted to negative energy. So, rather than feeding off the energy itself they eat the humans?” You ask, though you already know the answer to that. You just can’t wrap your head around how this is even possible. You recall his eyes, how pretty they are beneath the blindfold, “Is that why your eyes are so striking, because you have the power to fight them?”

A laugh bubbles from his chest, his hand squeezing your back, “Sort of. Not everyone is like me, though. In fact, no one is like me.” He steps back, arms open wide and head tilted towards the sky, “I’m the most powerful sorcerer to exist! Killing that creature used nothing but a flick of my wrist.” When he looks back to you there is a strange, powerful feeling that emanates from him, even some of the detectives around you seem to tense, “Nothing can touch me. In turn, nothing will ever touch you.”

What he says should be something kind, words of protection and safety. However, as his gaze burns through the blindfold and into your own, you feel like your breath has been whisked away and your body is being pulled to the ground, trapping you in place for him. It only lets up when your phone begins to ring, and to get out of this awkward feeling of a situation you answer it, “Hello, this is (Y/n).”

The voice on the other side of the phone makes you almost vomit, your father sounding almost melancholic, “(Y/n)… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shouted like that. Come home.”

You’re at a loss for words. He wants you home? No, that’s a lie, you can’t understand what is going on with him. Something tickles your ear and you jump to see Satoru leaning close so he can listen to your conversation. He smiles at you and nods, whispering, “Say yes.”

Satoru saved you and promised to protect you. He wouldn’t be telling you to agree if you were going to get hurt, you’d like to believe. So, swallowing your hesitation you reply, “O-Okay, dad. I’ll come home.”

He breathes a huge sigh of relief, “Thank god, thank you, (Y/n). Thank you so much.”

You hang up and look to Satoru with worry, “Do you think he’s going to kill me?”

“Nah, I won’t let him,” Satoru says, confidently. You think you can trust him, especially since you watched him take down a strong monster, your angry alpha of a father would be no match for him. He sees you’re still worried, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand and his smile doing its best to calm you, “Let’s finish up here.”

By the time you two are at your house the sun was low in the sky. Satoru had parked down the street this time, the two of you walking slowly down footpath to avoid suspicion. You were already on edge, however, when Satoru told you he wanted you to go in alone, you froze up completely.

He just stood there, allowing you to process what he said. You started by shaking your head, grabbing onto his hand, “No. No, please, you said-“

“-I said I’d protect you and I will. I’m going to go around the back, you just walk up like everything is hunky-dory, ‘kay?”

With a squeeze of your shoulder, he skips around, his carefree attitude not exactly lifting your anxiety. One thing is for certain, though, and that’s that you’ve seen him kill the other curse before. You know he can do it. You trust him. Alpha status aside, if you have any friend in this world then it’s Satoru Gojo.

You take your time going up to the front door, hand trembling as you reach for the knob. It’s unlocked, the door creaking open ominously. You get a cold rush through your body, the inside at freezing temperatures. It’s unnatural, making you step back in shock and shivering in what you could only describe as unease.

But it’s okay, because Satoru is here. He said he would protect you and the prospect has you feeling your cheeks flush. He’s like… your alpha.

The inside is quiet, save for the humming of electricity coming from the fridge. You walk slowly in and look around, spying your father in lounge room on his recliner, hands intertwined as he leans forward. You don’t shut the door, feeling just a tad easier with the escape route.

It isn’t until you’re standing before him that a whistling of wind causes the door to slam shut on its own, the locks clicking in place unnaturally. Your confused look in that direction has him huffing a laugh. Your father doesn’t give you the courtesy of eye contact, “You know that on the day you were born, your mother and I were at our happiest?”

It’s an odd way to start a conversation, and though you were certain this was a trap of some kind, you don’t know what else to do except respond meekly, “I didn’t know that no.”

A humourless laugh accompanies the way he sits up, shoulders slumped, and eyes dazed behind you, “No, of course you don’t. We only told you once when you were just a newborn. Once you got your status in life, well… It was too shameful to ever bring up again. We were completely embarrassed we every felt that way about an omega.”

He’s not just staring off into nothing, you notice the way his eyes look specifically behind you. Is it Satoru, did he come inside? You turn your head, only to go rigid and fall back in fear. Not another one… Not another curse.

It was too tall for the ceiling, curving over like a hook with its head twisted to be partially upright. Tiny mouths were strewn over its face and down its neck, human teeth in all sorts of odd places like the lips and cheeks of the creature. The main mouth was skewed to the side and grinning openly down at you, and the eyes that are sunken, almost giving a hollow effect, were as dark as a black hole; though you knew instantly that it had its gaze locked on you. Four lanky arms reach from its shoulders, the body a crooked mass of black and its fingers twitching in all the wrong directions with painful cracks of possible bone.

The worst part that solidified its presence was when it spoke, his voice raspy and words barely tangible, “Dau…ght…er… Path..et..ic ome…gck.a. Delectabblle—dinn….eerrr.”

You jumped at the firm hands on your shoulders, keeping you in place as the curse limped forwards. Your father spoke in a neutral tone, “It appeared not long after your mother left. At first, I didn’t know what to make of it, who to contact or what to do. Eventually, I started nurturing it. It grew with every argument we had, relished in my anger and pain. I let it feed off me and now it wants more. Now it wants you. You’ll do this, right? It’s the only good thing you’re for, after all. It’ll save me, your family.”

Tears streamed down your face, head shaking as you shifted back. Even with the bit of adrenaline you were able to muster, you were no match for your father, forced to endure the visual of this creature’s fingers itching to get a hold of your flesh. You could only sob, no words coming out, not even to call for Satoru.

Thankfully, you didn’t have to. Your saviour appears once more, and as though the curse is nothing but a guy on the street, he places his hand on its back and gives a low whistle, “Low blow, dad. And here I was excited to finally meet my father-in-law.”

There’s a pressure now in the air, one that has you curling in on yourself, and causing the curse’s open smile to turn into a low hanging frown. Its head spins on its neck, trying to get a look at the man that has it. Your father is more concerned about the words Satoru spoke, though, the tips of his fingers digging painfully into your skin, “’Father-in-law’? You whore. I knew you were out selling yourself. Looks like even to the end, you’re nothing but an embarrassment. That’s all going to change, though. Now you and your boy toy can die together.”

Satoru laughs, and before you can even blink, he appears behind your father and grabs his wrist, easily shattering the bones and causing him to let go of you. You shift to the side, away from both him and the curse as he screams. Satoru tuts at him, waggling his finger nonchalantly in the air, “Parents should protect their children, not sacrifice them. Honestly…” His voice lowers into something almost sad, though you’re wondering if Gojo Satoru was actually privy to that emotion in the first place or if he was just a really good actor, “People like you disgust me.”

A bright light that radiates such an intense heat envelops the lounge room. Your arm comes up to cover your face, eyes squinting, all you can hear are the pained cries of your father and the garbled curse. It sends fear coursing through your body, even if Satoru is on your side, just what sort of power does he control? The carnage you expect to see once your eyes adjust isn’t anywhere. The light is gone, everyone else in the room is gone, thin burn marks are left where your father and the curse once was.

You jump at the hand on your shoulder, your saviour appearing once again out of nowhere. He smirks, acting a little flustered, “Sorry, are your eyes okay? I just wanted to show off a little bit.”

Again, he’s able to treat this like it’s any other menial task. You ask him, voice quiet, “Where are they?”

He tilts his head at you, a little pouty that your first concern was them and not the praise you should be heaping on your hero. He squeezes your shoulder, comfortingly, “What do you mean? They’re gone, does it really matter where?”

It takes a few goes on shaky legs, but, you’re able to stand and face him, “I’m just a little concerned what even happened. Watching you fight the other one, I couldn’t wrap my head around it, and now this- … Are they…?”

“Dead? Yes.”

You exhale at his blatant response. Is this something you should blame yourself for, the killing of your father and that… thing? Or is that just your life-long need to put any negative responsibility on you for merely being born an omega.

Satoru wraps his arm around you and leads you out of the lounge room to help your overclocked mind, "Here’s what would have happened if I didn’t do that: The curse would eat you, devour your father, and then go on a rampage hunting primarily other poor omegas. It’s happened before, baby. Besides,” he cups your face in his hands, making you look up at him, “He was a horrible man. No loss. Can you really say you loved him?”

The only love you had for your father was before your scent kicked in. After that, he was worse than a stranger to you. You fiddle with your fingers, abashedly looking away, “What happens now?”

“Now,” he excitedly jostles you, the smile on his face huge, “You come with me!”

Your eyebrows furrow, his goofy attitude somehow lessening the severity of the situation for you, “I can’t just do that.”

“Sure you can! Where else are you gonna go?” He questions, awaiting an answer he knows you won’t be able to think of. He takes your hands in his and gets down on one knee, “(Y/n), I know it hasn’t been very long, but when I say I’ve finally found the love of my life-“

Cheeks burning, you push away from him, trying to cover up his teasing laugh with your hands to your ears, “Stop! Stop stop stop stop stop. Fine, I’ll come along with you.” You don’t think you can ever get used to being flirted with, especially in the unique ways that Satoru comes up with.

He gives you a gentle push, “Go grab some valuables, baby. We’ll leave once you’re ready.”

Satoru watches as you move up the stairs, grumbling about the sudden use of ‘baby’ he’s started getting attached to. Hah, how he really does love you. His hand comes to the straining of his cock in his pants, palming the ache that’s been prevalent for a while now. Not long now, he can’t way to absolutely ruin you. An omega that’s never had a proper heat, and he gets to be your first toy, just as much as you are his. His luck truly is divine, if anyone deserves it, it’s definitely him.

#yandere gojo satoru x reader #yandere jjk #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x reader #abo #yandere satoru x reader #alpha x omega #yandere gojo x reader #yandere x reader #yandere alpha x omega #alpha satoru gojo #jjk x reader

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arcadia-smith · 13 days ago

Text

He doesn't remember you.

But.

You stay.

Of course, you stay.

Because Bucky is still here, alive in the flesh, and somewhere—deep inside him, hidden beneath the layers of fractured memories—he must know you. He must remember.

It’s just a matter of time.

That’s what Sam says. What the doctors say.

Give it time.

So you do.

Days bleed into weeks, weeks into months.

And still, you stay.

You tell him stories—soft and steady, like a balm for the ache between you. You show him pictures, snapshots of the life you once shared, the love that stitched you two together.

You speak of your first date—how his nerves made him fidget like a storm on the horizon, pacing outside your apartment for what felt like an eternity before he finally knocked, all shaky hands and warm, unsure eyes.

You tell him about that rainy night, when he kissed you under the storm, his laughter a low hum against your lips as he whispered, “This only happens in the movies.”

You tell him about you—the version of yourself that once fit perfectly against his side.

And you wait.

You wait for the spark—the brief, flickering recognition that he once knew the rhythm of your heartbeat, the warmth of your touch.

You wait for those blue eyes to soften again, to look at you the way they used to—tender, loving, yours.

But they never do.

And then, one day, after all the days, weeks, and months spent watching and hoping—

You find him in the common room, grinning at something on his phone.

Someone.

A woman.

She’s bright, beautiful—her laughter a melody you don’t recognize.

And before you even open your mouth, you know.

But still, you ask.

“Who’s that?” Your voice is light, fragile, like a leaf trembling in the wind.

He looks up, then back at the screen, that faint, soft smile still lingering.

“Her name’s Kate.”

It’s a gut-punch. The kind that steals the air from your lungs and leaves you gasping.

“Oh,” you whisper, trying to swallow the burning sorrow that claws its way up your throat. “She’s... she’s pretty.”

He grins—wide, unbothered, as though this is just another casual conversation, nothing more.

“Yeah. I think I might ask her out.”

And in that moment, everything inside you fractures.

Not just the silence between the two of you, but the world itself.

Because Bucky doesn’t remember you.

No. Worse.

He’s moving on.

Without you.

And you can’t stop it.

You can’t tear through his shattered mind and fix what they took from him.

You can’t scream, You love me. You chose me. We were supposed to have forever.

You can’t do a single thing.

So you smile.

You nod.

You pretend that you’re not being swallowed whole by the hollow ache inside you.

And that night, when the house falls silent and empty, you don’t leave the porch light on.

Because Bucky isn’t coming back.

He already has.

And he’s not yours anymore.

You leave.

You have to.

Because staying, watching him laugh with someone else—someone new, someone with a love untouched by the scars of time—it would be like breathing in glass shards. It would tear through you, piece by piece, until nothing remained. You would cease to exist.

So you gather your things in silence, each item a memory you can’t afford to carry anymore.

You say goodbye to Sam, but there is no promise in your words. No hope. Just the hollow echo of a love you can’t save. You don’t tell Bucky. What would be the point? He’s already gone. The man you once knew is somewhere behind the locked door of his memories, and there is no key.

You leave.

And time doesn’t care.

It moves on, cruel and indifferent. Days stretch into weeks, weeks bleed into months, and the seasons change in ways that mean nothing. You rebuild, slowly. The edges of your broken heart are sealed with the soft, fragile thread of survival. You learn to exist without him. You learn to wake up without him beside you, without his breath against your neck, without the weight of his love settling around you like a warm blanket. You learn to live with the dull ache, the phantom throb in the places where he used to be.

But there are moments.

There are mornings when your fingers twitch toward the space where he should be, when your heart stutters, trapped in a fleeting memory, a touch, a whisper. And you wonder, just for a second, if he’s still there—if you’re still there. But then, the thought fades. Because he’s not yours. Not anymore.

And then—

Then you get the call.

Sam's voice is a tightrope, fraying at the edges.

"I need you to come back."

You hesitate, your breath a jagged thing. You don’t want to. You can’t go back to that place, to those ghosts. The last time you left, you left your soul in the hollow of his chest, and it never returned.

But Sam's voice cracks in a way that makes your insides twist. And you can’t ignore it. Not this time.

So you go.

And when you step into the room, you’re not ready for it. You’re never ready.

Sam stands in the doorway, his face pale and drawn, like he hasn’t slept, hasn’t eaten. His hands tremble at his sides, and there’s something in his eyes that says everything you don’t want to hear.

"It’s happening again."

At first, the words make no sense.

And then, they do.

Because Bucky is in the med bay, his body tethered to the bed, his arms thrashing against the restraints. His breath comes in ragged gasps, the panic clear in every movement. His eyes are wide, full of something deep—something more terrible than fear.

You run to him, despite everything, despite the emptiness he left behind. You run because he is still your Bucky, the man you loved with everything you had. You run because that’s all you’ve ever known how to do.

“Bucky,” you whisper, your voice a breathless plea. Your hand reaches for his, but he pulls away like your touch is a thing that burns.

And then—

He says your name.

And the world stops.

The earth cracks beneath you, and you feel yourself falling into a place where nothing makes sense. The thing you wanted most, the thing you prayed for, is here. He remembers. He remembers you.

But when you look into his eyes, it’s not relief that fills them. It’s horror.

“No,” he gasps, shaking his head violently, as if to shake you away, to shake this away. His words tear from him in broken sobs. “No, no, no—please—”

“Bucky, it’s okay,” you whisper, your voice trembling with the weight of everything you thought you could carry. But it’s not okay. It will never be okay.

His chest heaves. His body jerks, as though the memories are too much to hold, too much to be.

“What did I do?” he chokes.

And that is when you understand.

He remembers you. Yes, he does. He remembers everything.

But he also remembers her.

The woman he found after you, the woman he learned to love after he’d forgotten the taste of you. The woman who is out there, somewhere, still holding his heart, still waiting for him with arms wide open.

And he loves her. He loves her the way he loved you. But in a different way. In a way that isn’t stained with time and loss and the weight of your name.

And now—

Now he has both.

Now he has the knowledge of what he lost. Now he knows exactly what he did.

And in his eyes, you see the depth of his grief. The depth of his guilt. Because he remembers her. And he remembers choosing her.

And then—then he remembers forgetting you.

And that—

That is the part that will ruin you. Because it’s not just your heart breaking anymore.

It’s his, too.

And there is nothing either of you can do. No mending, no fixing, no magic words to erase the damage.

So you press your trembling hand to his cheek. You kiss his forehead, and for a brief, fleeting moment, it’s like you’re right back there—like nothing changed. Like the world hasn’t fallen apart in slow motion.

And you whisper to him, to the man you thought you could save:

“It’s okay. I’ll go.”

And you do.

You leave.

For the last time.

Because this time, he remembers you. But it doesn’t matter.

Because he’s not yours.

And he never will be again.

And that—that—is the worst part.

Because you lost him once, but now, you’ve lost him twice.

And the pain? The pain is deeper than anything you’ve ever felt.

It’s not just a heart breaking.

It’s a soul shattering.

#writers on tumblr #bucky fanfic #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky marvel #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #james barnes #winter solider x y/n #winter solider x reader #sad thoughts #sad poetry #breaking heart #angst

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prentissmultiverse · 15 days ago

Text

No Strings to Hold Us - part III

Walls crumble as you and Emily finally face the emotions you’ve both been avoiding, turning comfort into something deeper. tw: smut, age gap, angst part I and part II

(words: 9.8k)

The hospital room was dim, its silence broken only by the steady rhythm of the heart monitor and the quiet hum of the heater working overtime to keep the space warm. Emily sat in a chair pulled close to your bedside, her body leaning forward as though her presence could will you to wake. Her dark eyes traced over every detail of your face—the ashen pallor of your skin, the faint flutter of your eyelashes, the way your chest rose and fell in a fragile rhythm beneath the heavy blankets.

You were alive.

She repeated that fact to herself like a mantra, though it did little to quell the storm inside her.

Emily’s fingers pressed into the armrests of her chair, her knuckles white from the tension she couldn’t seem to release. She had been trying to keep herself steady for hours, but the silence left too much room for her thoughts to intrude, for the weight of what had happened, and what she felt, to press down on her.

Guilt.

The image of you lying on the icy floor was burned into her mind. Your lips had been blue, trembling as you whispered her name with what little strength you had left. Even in that moment, when you should have been fighting to survive, you had looked at her like she was your lifeline.

And then, the light in your eyes had faded.

The memory made Emily’s chest tighten painfully. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to push the image away, but it was no use. Every time she blinked, she saw you there again, barely conscious in her arms, slipping further away.

Her hand twitched, hovering above yours as if drawn by some invisible force. She wanted to touch you, to feel the warmth slowly returning to your body, but she couldn’t bring herself to close the distance. The guilt was too sharp, too suffocating.

This was her fault.

Emily’s mind spiraled as she sat there. She’d pushed you away after that night, the night when everything between you had changed.

She’d crossed a line.

It had been reckless, unprofessional, selfish. She had let her guard down, let her feelings slip past the walls she’d spent years building. And then, when she realized how far she’d fallen, she had done the only thing she knew how to do, she’d put those walls back up, higher and thicker than before.

Her professionalism had been a shield, one she wielded with precision to keep you at arm’s length. She had ignored the warmth in your smile, the way her heart raced whenever you were near, the way you looked at her like she was someone worth breaking the rules for.

And now here you were, fighting for your life because she hadn’t been strong enough to admit the truth.

The truth was that she cared about you... more than she should, more than she was allowed to.

Emily blinked away the sting in her eyes and took a deep, shaky breath. Her gaze snapped back to your still form, her jaw tightening as she studied your face. The doctors had told her you were stable, that they were monitoring your heart and keeping you warm to rebuild your core temperature. Severe hypothermia, they’d said, and she had nodded numbly, the words barely registering over the roar of panic in her mind.

You were alive. That was what mattered.

But even as she told herself that, her heart ached with the weight of everything left unsaid.

“Y/N…” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

You didn’t stir.

Emily clenched her jaw, her nails still digging into the armrests of the chair. She didn’t know what to do with the storm of emotions crashing through her. It was like every wall she’d built to keep her feelings in check had come crumbling down in the moment she saw you collapse.

“I thought I lost you,” she murmured, her voice barely audible in the stillness.

The words hung in the air, raw and unguarded, before fading into the hum of the heater. Emily swallowed hard, her throat tight as she forced herself to keep speaking.

“I should have been there sooner,” she said, her voice trembling.

Her fingers finally moved, brushing against the edge of the blanket covering your hand. The small contact sent a jolt through her, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she let her hand rest lightly over yours, her thumb tracing small, absent circles against the fabric.

“I’ve been so distant…” she admitted, her voice breaking. “I should’ve told you,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. “I should’ve said something—after that night. I thought pushing you away would make it easier. That if I could keep things professional, I’d stop feeling… this.”

She laughed bitterly, the sound sharp and humorless. “Turns out I’m terrible at loving anything, especially the people I care about the most.”

Her eyes flicked back to your face, searching for any sign that you might hear her. But you remained still, your body too exhausted from the fight to respond.

Emily’s grip on your hand tightened slightly, and her voice softened. “I can’t lose you,” she whispered. “I… I can’t.”

The vulnerability in her tone startled even herself, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t stop.

“I don’t care how complicated this is. I don’t care what it means for us, or for me. You matter more than anything else. You always have.”

Her words fell into the quiet, and for a moment, Emily let herself feel the weight of them. She leaned forward, her forehead resting lightly against your hand, her eyes slipping shut.

Then the guilt surged up again, sharp and unrelenting, clawing at her chest. “God,” she choked out, her voice breaking as she pulled back just enough to see your face again. “This is my fault. I shouldn’t have invited you over that night.” The words tumbled out in a rush, her tone tinged with both regret and bitterness.

“You were just supposed to be a distraction. That’s all it was ever supposed to be.” Her breath caught, and she shook her head, as if trying to shake free of the memories. “But I let you in. I told myself it was fine—just one night, no strings.”

Emily’s fingers brushed lightly over the back of your hand, her movements tender despite the sharp edge to her words. “And I let you get close. I shouldn’t have. Everyone I let close gets hurt. And now… now you’re here.”

The weight of her confession seemed to drag her shoulders down, her body folding in on itself as she pressed her forehead against her hand.

“You have to wake up,” she murmured. “Please.”

The steady beeping of the heart monitor was her only answer, its rhythm both reassuring and maddening. Each pulse felt like a tether, a thin thread keeping you tied to this world, but it offered no comfort to Emily. Not when you remained so still.

Her words fell into the silence like drops of water into an endless void, absorbed and unnoticed. She’d spoken to you for what felt like hours, pouring out every thought, every regret, every confession she’d buried deep inside. But there was no reaction, no flicker of acknowledgment, no sign that you had heard her at all.

Emily’s voice had cracked, raw with emotion as she pleaded with you to stay, begged you to come back to her. And still, nothing. Your pale face, your motionless form, the faint rise and fall of your chest—it was all that she had, and it wasn’t enough.

She stayed there, hunched forward in the chair, her elbows resting on the edge of the bed. One hand gripped yours, her thumb running over your knuckles in an absent, desperate rhythm. The other cradled her forehead as she closed her eyes, trying to block out the sting of tears she refused to let fall.

The silence pressed down on her, the kind that wasn’t truly silent—the hum of the heater, the muffled sounds of hospital staff moving in the hallway, the maddeningly steady beep of the monitor. Each sound reminded her that the world outside this room continued on as if nothing had happened. As if her world wasn’t crumbling right here.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured again, her voice barely audible, the words spilling out into the quiet. “I’m so sorry.”

She didn’t know what else to say. The things she’d already confessed—how she pushed you away, how she’d tried to protect you by keeping her distance, how badly she’d failed—they felt meaningless now. Words wouldn’t wake you.

Her grip on your hand tightened, as if holding onto you more firmly could bridge the gap between her desperation and the stubborn stillness of your body. But your hand didn’t move.

Her gaze dropped to where her fingers curled around yours, her thumb still tracing small circles over your icy skin. Emily had always been good in moments of crisis, sharp and steady in the face of chaos, but this wasn’t something she could control. There was no strategy, no plan, no way to fight against the weight of her own helplessness.

She let her head fall, her forehead brushing against the back of your hand. Her voice broke as she whispered, “You have to wake up. Please.”

The silence swallowed her words.

Emily stayed like that for some time, her body still but her mind churning, replaying every mistake she’d made, every moment she could have done something differently. Her guilt was a crushing weight, her heart breaking under the sheer enormity of it.

She didn’t know how long she sat there, unmoving. It could have been minutes, or hours. The sound of the monitor’s steady beeping blurred into the background, a cruel reminder that you were alive but not truly here.

And then—

A faint twitch beneath her fingers.

Emily froze, her breath catching in her throat as she stared at your hand. The movement was so subtle she almost thought she’d imagined it. But then it happened again, your fingers curling ever so slightly against hers.

“Y/N?” she said, her voice trembling with disbelief.

Her heart raced as she leaned forward, her free hand brushing against your cheek. Your skin was still too cold, but there was life in it now, a fragile flickering warmth that hadn’t been there before.

“Y/N, it’s me,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I’m here.”

Your lips parted, a faint sound escaping: a broken, fragile whisper. She leaned in closer, her dark eyes wide with hope as she caught the shape of the word forming on your lips.

Her name.

Emily’s breath hitched, tears springing to her eyes as she clutched your hand tighter. “I’m here,” she said again, her voice cracking. “I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

Emily’s heart clenched, relief washing over her in a wave so overwhelming she thought it might drown her.

It took some time for you to fully register what’s happening around you. The sterile smell of the hospital, the distant hum of machinery, and the faint prickling of warmth trying to return to your limbs felt like fragments of a dream. Everything was muted, as if the world existed behind a pane of frosted glass.

But there’s something else.

Emily’s voice.

It’s steady and low, cutting through the haze like a lifeline. Her words blurred together, but her tone was unmistakably fierce and tender all at once, filled with a desperation that griped your chest tighter than the cold ever could.

And her hand.

Her hand is wrapped around yours, grounding you, its warmth a stark contrast to the icy stillness that had consumed you before. The sensation, though faint, is enough to anchor you, enough to pull you back from the abyss.

Your lips parted again, and this time, when her name falls from them, it’s quiet and raspy, barely more than a whisper.

But it’s real.

“I’m here, sweetheart,” she breathed, her voice trembling as she leans closer. Her hand moves to brush a strand of hair away from your face, the touch so gentle it nearly undoes you.

You forced your eyes to open, the effort monumental, and the world slowly came into focus. The first thing you saw was Emily—her hair slightly mussed, her face pale, and her eyes rimmed with red. Her hand is still clasped around yours, but the moment your gaze flickered to life, she jerked upright, hurriedly brushing her sleeve across her face to erase the evidence of her tears.

You blink sluggishly, trying to make sense of the sight in front of you.

“W-were you crying?” you rasped, your voice barely audible but carrying a teasing edge, faint as it is.

Emily’s breath caught audibly, and her eyes darted away for the briefest second before snapping back to yours. “Don’t flatter yourself,” she said, her voice breaking despite her attempt to sound lighthearted. “I don’t cry.”

You managed a faint, lopsided smile, though it’s more of a twitch of your lips than anything else. “Sure… you don’t,” you whispered, your voice cracking on the effort.

A soft, shaky laugh escaped Emily, but there’s no humor in it—only tension and fragility. She leaned forward slightly, her hand tightening around yours for a moment.

“You scared the hell out of me,” she murmured, her voice softer now, almost reluctant, as though admitting it cost her something. “Don’t you ever do that again. Do you hear me?”

You blinked slowly, your gaze fixed on hers, and even in your disoriented state, you could see the raw emotion in her eyes—the fear, the guilt, the relief. It’s all there, laid bare in a way Emily rarely allows herself to be.

“I’ll… try not to,” you managed, your voice so faint it almost doesn’t carry.

“Good,” she murmured, leaning back just a little but not releasing your hand. Her other hand tugged lightly at her jacket sleeve, brushing it down as though to busy herself, though her attention never fully left you.

For a few moments, there was only the steady beeping of the heart monitor between you. Emily’s fingers remained wrapped around yours, her touch steady and grounding, but her expression grew unreadable, her gaze flickering down to where your hands were clasped, as though she was lost in thought.

“You look like hell,” she finally said, breaking the silence with a weak attempt at humor.

“Feel like it too,” you replied, though the faint tug of a smile on your lips took the sting out of the words.

Emily let out another soft laugh, her voice quieter now, as though the relief of seeing you awake had finally begun to sink in. Her thumb traced an idle, gentle circle against your skin, a motion so absent that it felt natural, like she didn’t even realize she was doing it.

“You’re safe now,” she murmured after a pause, her tone soft and steady. Her gaze dropped to your hand, her fingers curling around it just a little tighter. “That’s what matters.”

There was something in the way she said it, a weight to the words that made you feel like they carried more than she was letting on. But you were too tired to press her, the pull of sleep tugging at the edges of your consciousness again.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” you murmured faintly, a flicker of warmth in your voice.

Emily’s lips curved into a small smile, but there was a shadow of something deeper in her expressions, something you couldn’t quite place. “Yeah, well,” she replied, her voice lighter now, “I didn’t sit here all night just for you to turn around and pull a stunt like this again.”

Her attempt at humor drew a faint chuckle from you, though it came out weak and strained. Your eyes drifted close despite your best effort to stay awake, the exhaustion overwhelming you once more.

The last thing you felt was the steady warmth of Emily’s hand in yours, her touch anchoring you to the moment. You didn’t see the way her smile faded once your breathing evened out, or the way her gaze lingered on your face, tinged with something unspoken.

And you didn’t hear the words she murmured, so soft they barely escaped her lips: “You’re safe now… but I wish I’d have the strength to keep you away from me...”

Two days passed in a blur of doctors, nurses, and restless sleep. The warmth had returned to your body, but there was something inside you that still felt cold, as if a shadow had taken root in your chest. The team had flown home after you woke up, their relief palpable as they each took turns squeezing your hand and promising to check in on you. But Emily had stayed. She hadn’t said why, and you hadn’t asked. Maybe you didn’t want to hear her reasoning.

She hovered constantly, asking if you needed anything, ensuring you ate, slept, and followed the doctors’ instructions. But she didn’t talk about what happened—neither the freezer nor anything from before that night. Her presence should have been reassuring, but the silence between you grew heavier with each passing hour.

You couldn’t help but wonder: Was she regretting staying? Regretting you? Yet you remembered the tears in her eyes when you first opened yours, the way her voice cracked as she said your name. That had to mean something… didn’t it?

The second morning, the doctor cleared you to leave. Your vitals were stable, and though your body still felt weak, you were deemed fit to travel. Emily drove you to the airfield in silence, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Every glance she sent your way only deepened the ache in your chest, the cold lingering like a stubborn phantom.

Now, you sat in the jet, a blanket draped over you and a warm cocoa in your hands—Emily’s doing. She sat across from you, her laptop open and fingers poised over the keys. The sight made your stomach twist. Emily Prentiss, always composed, always in control. You wondered if you’d imagined the rawness in her voice when she begged you to wake up.

You sighed, adjusting the blanket around you. “You don’t have to hover, you know,” you said softly, your voice cutting through the hum of the jet engines.

Emily’s eyes darted up, dark and unreadable. “I don’t hover,” she replied, her tone even.

You raised an eyebrow, sipping your cocoa. “You’re practically breathing down my neck.”

Her lips quirked into a faint smirk, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m just making sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” you lied. The lingering cold in your chest begged to differ, but you weren’t about to admit that to her. Not when things between you already felt so fragile.

Emily didn’t respond, her gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before dropping back to her laptop. She looked like she wanted to say something but thought better of it. The silence stretched on, heavy and uncomfortable, and you found yourself gripping your cocoa tighter, desperate for some kind of warmth.

You wanted to ask her about the night she’d found you, about the words she’d whispered when she carried you out. But the vulnerability in her eyes then was nowhere to be found now. She was distant, as always, and you didn’t have the strength to bridge the gap.

Instead, you leaned back in your seat, closing your eyes and letting the steady hum of the jet lull you into a restless haze. But even as sleep tugged at you, Emily’s presence loomed large in your mind, her voice echoing in your memory.

“I can’t lose you.”

You didn’t know what to do with that. Or with her. But as the jet soared through the sky, you knew one thing for certain - the cold in your chest wasn’t just from the freezer.

The jet touched down softly, the familiar bump of the landing gear connecting with the runway signaling the end of the journey. Relief coursed through you at the thought of being home - of slipping into your bed, curling up under your own blankets, and finally letting the exhaustion that clung to you take over.

You stood, ready to grab your go-bag from the overhead compartment, but before your fingers could curl around the strap, Emily was already there.

“I’ve got it,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument as she slung the bag over her shoulder and motioned toward the door.

You opened your mouth to protest but caught the look in her eyes—a determined sharpness tempered by something softer, something vulnerable. Guilt. It flickered behind her carefully constructed facade, just out of reach but unmistakable. You swallowed your words and followed her out of the jet.

Outside, the crisp night air greeted you, wrapping around your still-recovering body. It felt heavier than it should, clinging to your skin like a second layer. All you wanted was to get to your car, drive home, and disappear into the sanctuary of your own space. But as you stepped toward the SUV waiting for you on the asphalt, Emily stepped into your path.

“I’ll drive you,” she said simply, her voice calm but firm.

“Emily, I’m fine,” you replied, though the thought of not having to focus on the road was tempting. “I can drive myself. It’s not a big deal.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, and you could see the muscle in her jaw tighten as she set her bag down beside the SUV. “It’s not happening,” she said. “You’re not driving anywhere.”

Her tone brooked no argument, but you couldn’t help the flicker of annoyance that sparked within you. “I’ll be fine,” you insisted. “I’m not made of glass.”

Emily didn’t respond right away. She stood there, her dark eyes locked on yours, her expression unreadable. And then she said, softly but firmly, “You’re coming with me.”

The words hung between you, heavier than they should have been. You frowned, caught off guard. “To your place?”

“Yes,” she said without hesitation. “I don’t want you to be alone tonight.”

Her bluntness startled you. She wasn’t asking, she was telling you. But as much as the stubborn part of you wanted to resist, to dig in your heels and prove you were fine, you couldn’t ignore the way her voice wavered ever so slightly. It wasn’t just about you. You could see it in her eyes, feel it in the way her shoulders tensed beneath her coat.

This was about her, too.

You sighed, the fight draining out of you as you nodded. “Alright,” you said quietly, and her shoulders seemed to relax, just a fraction.

Emily didn’t say anything else, simply opening the passenger door for you. You slid in without a word, the SUV’s interior warm and comfortable. She rounded the front and climbed into the driver’s seat, her movements precise and measured. The engine roared to life, and she pulled onto the road, the silence between you settled in like an old friend.

As the city lights blurred past the windows, you stole a glance at her. Her hands gripped the wheel tightly, her knuckles pale against the black leather. Her jaw was set, her eyes fixed on the road, but the tension radiating off her was palpable. You wanted to say something, to break the silence, but the words stuck in your throat.

You didn’t know what to say.

So instead, you watched her, the weight of everything unsaid sitting heavy in the space between you.

The sight of her house came into view, and you felt your chest tighten. It was a beautiful place, sturdy and quiet. But to you, it was haunted. The last time you had stepped through that door, everything had changed. Everything had unraveled.

The memory of that night loomed like a ghost, stirring unbidden thoughts. You tried not to think about the way her hands had felt on your body, the way she had whispered your name. That night had been the first- and the last - time anything like that had happened between you.

The SUV rolled to a stop, and Emily cut the engine, her movements tense. She stepped out, and you followed suit, your body feeling heavier than it should. The cold air nipped at your skin as you followed her to the door, her keys jingling softly in her hand. She didn’t look at you as she unlocked it and stepped inside.

You hesitated for a moment before crossing the threshold. The warmth of her home enveloped you, but it did little to chase away the chill that had settled deep in your chest. The living room looked the same- perfectly curated, a mixture of sophistication and comfort. The memories came rushing back, uninvited, of Emily leading you down the hall that night, her touch setting fire to your skin. You pushed the thoughts away, but they lingered, leaving behind a sharp pang in your chest. You winced, the pain a fleeting but jarring reminder of how fragile you still felt.

“Let me get the guest room ready,” Emily said, her voice pulling you back to the present. She was already stepping away, her tone curt but not unkind, as if to say you know where everything is.

And you did. You knew this house well enough to find your way around without her. But you made no move to get comfortable. The weight in your chest and the cold that clung to you made it hard to care about anything but staying upright.

Emily disappeared down the hallway, her presence leaving the room even more still. You stood there, staring at the perfectly arranged furniture, the art on the walls, the bookshelves that hinted at her meticulous nature. It should have felt welcoming, comforting even. Instead, it felt distant, like stepping into someone else’s life—a life you had only glimpsed but never truly belonged to.

You sank onto the edge of the sofa, letting your body sink into the cushions but keeping your posture stiff. The cold in your chest refused to fade, clinging to you like a shadow, heavy and relentless. You stared at the floor, your mind drifting in and out of the memories of that night. The way she had touched you. The way she had looked at you. The way she had built a wall between you afterward, as if it had never happened.

A faint clatter from down the hall broke the stillness, followed by Emily’s soft footsteps as she returned to the living room. She paused when she saw you sitting there, her dark eyes flicking over you briefly before she spoke.

“The guest room’s ready,” she said, her voice steady but distant. Emily lingered for a moment, her eyes resting on you as if she were trying to decide whether to push further. Her arms crossed over her chest, but it didn’t feel defensive—it felt like she was holding herself together, her own form of armor.

“Are you hungry?” she asked softly, the question catching you off guard.

You shook your head almost reflexively, the idea of food feeling more like an obligation than a comfort. “Not really,” you murmured, your voice quiet.

Emily didn’t look surprised, but she frowned, a flicker of something crossing her face before she straightened. “You need to eat,” she said, her tone firm but lacking its usual sharpness. “Even if it’s something small. You’ve been through hell, and your body needs fuel to recover.”

“Emily—” you started, but she cut you off, stepping closer. Her voice dropped, soft but insistent.

“If not for you... do it for me, then.”

The words stopped you cold. You looked up at her, your eyes searching her face. There it was, a crack in her armor. Guilt seeped through her voice, and the way her eyes softened as she looked at you only confirmed it. She wasn’t just doing this for you. She was carrying something heavy, something that weighed on her more than she was willing to admit.

You nodded slowly, not commenting on it, not trusting yourself to. You didn’t know how to address this complicated mess between you, the night you had made love with Emily, the weeks of distance that followed, your near-death experience, and the way she’d held you as she carried you out, her words still echoing in your mind.

"I’m not losing you. Do you hear me? You don’t get to leave. Not after… not after everything.”

The closest she’d come to admitting whatever was between you. And then, at the hospital, waking to see the tears in her eyes, the rawness in her expression as if she was barely holding herself together, only to wipe away her tears.

But even after all of that, the two of you still hadn’t spoken about it. Emily’s hovering, her constant presence, her insistence on caring for you, it was all laced with guilt. And yet, she didn’t say a word about what truly lingered between you.

What you didn’t know - what you couldn’t know- was the way she had bared her heart to you when you were unconscious in that hospital bed. The things she’d said, the confessions that had spilled from her lips in the stillness of the room, words you hadn’t heard because you were too far gone to listen.

Emily let out a quiet breath as she turned and headed toward the kitchen, motioning for you to follow. You did, your legs feeling heavy as you shuffled behind her. The house was so quiet that every sound seemed to echo, the soft padding of your socks on the hardwood floor, the faint hum of the refrigerator, the clink of Emily opening a cabinet.

She moved with purpose, pulling out a loaf of bread and setting it on the counter. Her movements were efficient but almost too careful, as if the simple task of making a sandwich was grounding her. “Just a few bites,” she said, her back to you. “That’s all I’m asking.”

You nodded again, even though she couldn’t see it, and sank into one of the stools at the kitchen island. The cold in your chest felt heavier here, the stillness of the house only amplifying the weight of it. You watched Emily as she worked, the lines of her shoulders tense beneath the fabric of her sweater. She wasn’t saying anything, but her actions spoke volumes.

Minutes later, she set a plate in front of you, a simple sandwich, nothing fancy. She leaned against the counter across from you, her arms crossed again, watching you with a quiet intensity that made you feel like she was waiting for something.

You picked up the sandwich and took a small bite, the taste bland but manageable. Emily’s posture relaxed, just a fraction, and she nodded almost imperceptibly, as if to herself.

“Thank you,” she said softly, the words carrying more weight than they should have.

You didn’t respond, focusing on the sandwich instead, though your appetite was nonexistent. The silence stretched between you, but this time, it wasn’t as heavy. There was something in the way Emily stood there, her eyes never quite leaving you, that made it feel... less lonely.

When you set the sandwich down, only half-eaten, she didn’t push you to finish it. Instead, she walked over and picked up the plate, her movements deliberate but calm. “I’ll take care of this,” she said quietly.

You stayed where you were, your hands resting on the edge of the counter, your thoughts swirling. You wanted to say something, to break through the barrier that had grown between you. But every time you opened your mouth, the words felt too heavy, too complicated to let out.

And so, you stayed silent, the cold in your chest pressing against your ribs as you stared at the faint reflections in the polished countertop. Emily returned moments later, wiping her hands on a dish towel. She hesitated at the edge of the counter, her eyes flicking to yours before she spoke.

“You should get some rest,” she said, her voice gentle but firm. “The guest room’s ready for you. I put extra blankets on the bed... just in case.”

You nodded and stood, your body still feeling sluggish. As you walked past her toward the hallway, you paused, your hand gripping the edge of the doorframe. “Emily,” you said softly, your voice uncertain.

She looked at you, her expression carefully neutral. “Yeah?”

You hesitated, searching for the right words but finding none. Finally, you just shook your head. “Never mind,” you murmured, disappearing down the hallway before she could respond.

You didn’t see the way her shoulders slumped as you left, the guilt in her eyes deepening as she leaned heavily against the counter, the weight of her own unspoken words pressing down on her.

You lay in bed, the soft fabric of the sweatpants and shirt Emily had left for you doing little to chase away the cold that seemed to have taken permanent residence in your chest. You’d tried to sleep, tried to let exhaustion drag you under, but the icy weight pressing against your ribs made it impossible. You’d wrapped yourself in blankets, tucked them tightly around you as if you could lock out the chill, but it was futile. It wasn’t a physical cold. It was something deeper, something clawing at you from the inside out.

You glanced at the clock. 11:57 p.m. Nearly midnight. You sighed, running a hand over your face as your gaze swept over the guest room. It was neat and welcoming, yet it felt distant, like you didn’t belong here. The stillness of the room matched the hollow emptiness inside you, amplifying it. The air felt heavy, pressing down on you, and you couldn’t take it anymore.

Swinging your legs over the side of the bed, you got up, your movements sluggish but purposeful. You needed a distraction, anything to keep your mind occupied. Tea, maybe. Or just pacing the kitchen. The act of doing something, no matter how small, might help push back the oppressive cold in your chest.

As you stepped into the hallway, the dim light from the kitchen faintly illuminated the space. You took a step toward it, but before you could round the corner, Emily emerged from the living room. She stopped mid-step when she saw you, her dark eyes immediately locking onto yours.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. Her gaze flicked over you, taking in the tension in your shoulders, the way your arms crossed as if trying to protect yourself from the cold that clung to you.

“You’re freezing,” she murmured, her voice low but filled with an urgency that you couldn’t quite match.

You opened your mouth to dismiss it, to tell her you were fine, but the words wouldn’t come. The biting chill in your chest crawled closer to the surface, making it hard to even think straight.

Emily stepped closer, her movements careful but deliberate. “Come with me,” she said softly, her tone firm but gentle. She didn’t wait for you to respond, her hand brushing your arm lightly as she turned and led you down the hallway.

The house was quiet, the faint hum of the heater the only sound as you followed her into her bedroom. As you stepped into Emily’s bedroom, a strange, heavy sensation settled in your chest, something different from the lingering cold that had clung to you all night. The room was warm, inviting even, but it held an undeniable weight.

It was the first time you had been in here since that night.

Your eyes flickered over the space, memories pressing in on you from every corner. The bed, perfectly made now, had once been tangled with sheets, bodies, and whispered breaths. The air, now still and quiet, had once been filled with Emily’s voice, her soft murmurs against your skin, the way she had said your name in the dark like she couldn’t get enough of it.

Your stomach twisted, your fingers curling at your sides. You had done everything in your power to bury that night, to pack it away, to mirror Emily’s distance so you wouldn’t break under the weight of it. But now, standing here again, the ghost of it wrapped around you, thick and suffocating.

You glanced at Emily, your breath hitching slightly when you found her watching you. Her expression was unreadable, but something flickered behind her dark eyes, recognition. She knew. She felt it too.

For a second, neither of you moved. The air between you crackled, heavy with the unspoken, with the things you had both run from for weeks. But then Emily inhaled sharply, shaking herself free of whatever thought had momentarily trapped her. She moved to the dresser, pulling out a thick sweatshirt, her hands steady even as something in her eyes betrayed the tension she was holding inside.

“Arms up,” she said, her voice quieter now, almost cautious.

You obeyed without a word, letting her slip the sweatshirt over your head. The fabric was warm, a stark contrast to the chill still settled deep in your bones. Emily’s hands lingered for just a second after the material fell into place, her fingers brushing against your arms before she stepped back, putting space between you.

Emily motioned toward the bed. “Sit,” she said gently.

You obeyed, sinking onto the edge of the mattress, but the moment you did, a fresh wave of unease settled over you. This bed—it wasn’t just a bed. It was the place where everything had changed. Where she had unraveled you with her hands, her lips, her body. Where she had let you in for a fleeting moment before slamming the door shut just as quickly.

Your gaze dropped to the floor, your thoughts splintering into jagged pieces you couldn’t quite put back together. The cold in your chest ached, but it wasn’t just from the lingering effects of the freezer, it was from everything that had come after. The silence. The distance. The way you had mirrored her walls just to survive it.

Emily crouched in front of you, her presence grounding but unbearably heavy. She placed her hands on your knees, the warmth of her touch seeping through the fabric of your sweatpants. “You need to get warm,” she said softly, but there was something in her voice, something fragile.

You swallowed hard, gripping the edge of the sweatshirt she had just pulled over your head. “I don’t think warmth is the problem,” you murmured, surprising even yourself with the quiet admission.

Emily’s hands tightened on your knees for a fraction of a second before she exhaled, steadying herself. Her voice was softer when she spoke again. “Come on,” she urged, her fingers brushing over your arm in a silent plea. “Into bed.”

You didn’t argue. You let her pull back the duvet, let her guide you beneath it, let the weight of the blankets press down on you. But even as you lay there, cocooned in the softness, the cold in your chest refused to ease. You curled slightly on your side, staring at the faint outline of the bedside lamp against the ceiling, exhaustion pulling at your limbs but refusing to grant you rest.

The mattress dipped beside you. You felt Emily hesitate, hovering at the edge of the bed as if unsure whether she was crossing another invisible line.

Then, something inside her broke.

She exhaled shakily and shifted closer, wrapping her arms around you and pulling you against her. The warmth of her skin enveloped you, her touch steady and grounding as she held you tight. And for the first time in weeks, she didn’t keep her distance. She didn’t hold herself back.

Her grip was hesitant at first, but when you didn’t pull away, she held you tighter. Her arms came around you fully, one hand resting against your stomach, fingers splayed as if to anchor herself to you. Her other arm curled beneath your head, drawing you closer, until her breath was warm against your neck.

For a long time, neither of you spoke. The silence was thick, but not empty. Emily’s breathing was steady but not quite even, as if she was still trying to control something breaking inside of her.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of her sleeve, gripping it like a lifeline.

Finally, her voice broke the stillness, soft and trembling. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, her breath brushing against your hair.

You froze, your breath hitching slightly as the words hung between you. “For what?” you asked, though you already knew.

Emily tightened her hold on you, her tone thick with emotion as she spoke. “For everything,” she admitted. “For the walls I put up. For pushing you away when all I wanted to do was hold on. For not—” Her voice cracked, and she took a shaky breath. “For not telling you how I felt until it was too late.”

Emily shifted slightly, pressing her forehead lightly against the back of your head. “I shouldn’t have left you alone,” she whispered, and her voice was different now, unfiltered, fragile in a way you’d never heard before. “Not after that night. Not after what it meant.”

Her words hit you like a punch to the chest, the echoes of her voice cutting through your mind.

You squeezed your eyes shut, your throat tightening. It wasn’t just the cold you were fighting. It was everything else.

“I thought it would be easier,” she continued, her voice barely above a whisper. “It was easier to tell you when you weren’t listening. When I didn’t have to see the way you’d look at me. But now…” Her voice trailed off, her hand on your stomach pulling you firmer against her front. “I hate myself for it. For not being braver. For not being better for you.”

Her guilt was palpable, threading through every word, every breath. You felt the tension in her body, the way her arms trembled slightly as she held you. It was the most vulnerable you’d ever seen her, and it cracked something open inside you.

“I don’t know how to fix this,” she admitted, her voice breaking again. “But I can’t lose you. Not again.”

You swallowed hard, the cold in your chest shifting, cracking under the weight of her words. “I didn’t leave,” you whispered, your voice shaky but firm. “I’m still here.”

You shifted slightly in Emily’s embrace, the warmth of her arms doing what nothing else could—chasing away the cold that had gripped your chest. Her words echoed in your mind, soft and raw.

“And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you here,” Emily said.

You turned your head slightly, to look over your shoulder at her. Emily’s dark eyes were already fixed on you, filled with something you couldn’t quite name: guilt, fear, hope, all wrapped into one. Her brows furrowed slightly when your eyes met, but she didn’t look away.

“What did you say to me?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “In the hospital. When I wasn’t listening?”

Her body tensed for a moment. She held your gaze, her eyes searching yours, as if trying to decide how much to say. You hesitated before adding, “I can… turn around. Or close my eyes, if that’s what you need to talk about it.”

Emily’s lips pressed into a thin line, and she shook her head slightly. “No,” she said firmly, though her voice trembled at the edges. “Don’t turn around. Don’t close your eyes. Stay with me.”

You nodded, waiting, your chest tightening with anticipation. She took a shaky breath as if grounding herself.

“I told you…” She paused, her words faltering for a second before she forced herself to continue. “I told you that I’m terrible at loving anything. Especially the people I care about the most.”

Your breath hitched, her confession striking something deep within you. Loving.

“I’ve been so distant,” she went on, her voice breaking slightly. “I thought if I pushed you away, it would make it easier. That if I kept things professional, I could stop feeling this... stop feeling you.” Her hands tightened their hold on you, like she was afraid you might slip away. “I wished I’d have the strength to keep you away from me. But it didn’t work. I couldn’t stop.”

You swallowed hard, your throat thick with emotion as you absorbed her words. Slowly, you turned in her arms until you faced her completely. Emily’s eyes searched yours, her expression open in a way you’d never seen before. Vulnerable. Raw.

“I thought I was protecting you,” she murmured, her voice breaking again. “But I was just running. And I don’t want to run anymore.”

You exhaled shakily, the weight of her confession sinking in. “Emily…” you began, your voice trembling. “I mirrored your distance. I thought if I acted like nothing happened, I wouldn’t break under the weight of it. But I did. That night—it wasn’t just sex for me. It was so much more.” You hesitated, your voice growing softer. “You were so much more.”

Her breath caught, her eyes widening slightly as your words sank in. The vulnerability in her gaze softened into something else, something deeper, something that made your chest tighten in a way that wasn’t cold, but warm.

“I thought I’d lost you too,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “And it killed me, Emily. The thought of never having the chance to tell you… what you mean to me.”

Neither of you spoke after that, the silence stretching between you, heavy with the weight of unspoken emotions finally brought to light. Emily’s hand came up, her fingers brushing softly against your cheek, her touch tentative, almost unsure.

You leaned into her touch, closing the small space between you. Her eyes searched yours one last time before she moved closer, her breath warm against your lips. And then, finally, she kissed you.

It was soft at first, hesitant, as though she was afraid you might pull away. But when you didn’t -when you kissed her back, your hands curling into the fabric of her sweatshirt- she deepened it. Her lips moved against yours with a quiet urgency, weeks of restraint and unspoken words pouring into the kiss.

Emily’s tongue traced along your bottom lip, asking for entrance. You parted your lips with a soft and content sigh, inviting her in. Her tongue slid against yours in a slow, tantalizing dance, sending shivers down your spine. Emily’s fingers tangled in your hair, her grip firm but trembling slightly, as though she was afraid you might slip through her fingers again.

You pulled her closer, hands grasping at the fabric of her shirt, needing to feel her, to anchor yourself to the warmth of her. She responded in kind, pressing her body fully against yours, the heat between you erasing the last remnants of cold that had lingered in your chest for too long.

You exhaled a shaky breath against Emily’s lips, and when you spoke, your voice was raw. “I don’t want to lose you again.”

“You won’t,” Emily whispered back, the words slipping out without hesitation. It was a promise, not just to you, but to herself.

Emily cupped your face, her thumb brushing over your cheekbone. You leaned into her touch, pressing soft kisses against the heel of her palm before meeting her lips again. This time, the kiss was deeper, longing woven into every movement.

Emily’s fingers trembled slightly as they traced the hem of the sweatshirt. You felt the hesitation in her touch, not because she didn’t want this, but because she did. So much. And this time, she wasn’t rushing. Neither of you were.

Your breath hitched as she slowly lifted the fabric, her knuckles grazing along your sides, her touch deliberate, careful. She was undressing you not just to remove a barrier, but to feel, to map the warmth of your skin beneath her fingertips, to remind herself that you were real, here, with her.

You lifted your arms, letting her pull the sweatshirt and the shirt you wore under it over your head. The air was cooler without it, but then Emily’s hands were back on you, smoothing down your arms, fingertips ghosting along your ribs and up, tracing the edge of your breasts like she was memorizing every inch of you. Her eyes flickered over your body, dark and searching, and you swore you could see something unraveling in her.

Your hands moved next, reaching for the hem of her shirt. You hesitated for a moment, fingers curling against the fabric as you glanced up at her. A silent question.

Emily nodded, her breath uneven, her arms lifting just enough for you to pull it over her head. The fabric slipped away, baring her to you in the dim light, her skin warm beneath your fingertips as you let your hands explore, brushing over her shoulders, down her arms, up the delicate slope of her neck.

A shudder ran through her as you leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to her lips, while cupping her full breasts in your hands. Your thumbs gently traced over her nipples which immediately hardened under your touch. Emily exhaled against you, her hands found your waist, steadying herself.

There was no urgency in the way you undressed each other, only patience. Reverence. Emily’s fingers hooked into the waistband of your sweatpants and panties, her knuckles grazing your hips as she eased them down, her breath warm against your skin as she kissed a path up your stomach.

You mirrored her, fingers sliding beneath the waistband and her warm skin, pushing them down with careful hands. Emily let out a quiet breath, shifting to help you. The way she looked at you as the last of the barriers fell away made your stomach flip, heat pooling low in your belly, not just from desire, but from something deeper. Something that had always been there, waiting to be acknowledged.

Bare, vulnerable, and inches apart, neither of you moved for a long moment. There was no hesitation now. No fear. Just the two of you, here, now, choosing this.

You leaned in again and kissed her slowly, deeply, savoring the warmth of her mouth, the way she sighed against you as if letting go of something she had held onto for far too long. Your hands traced the length of her body, fingertips gliding over the soft curve of her waist and down her sides.

Your lips moved lower, pressing gentle kisses along the column of her throat, down to the delicate hollow between her collarbones. You felt her shiver beneath you, her fingers threading into your hair, her breathing unsteady as you continued lower. You kissed her breasts, lingering there, feeling the way her body responded to you, how her fingers curled against your scalp as if grounding herself. Your hand cupped one, kneading softly, while your mouth worshiped the other, tongue flicking over her nipple before you took it between your lips, sucking gently. Then you switched, giving the same devoted attention to the other, savoring the way she arched into your touch.

A shaky breath escaped her lips, her body pressing closer as a soft whimper filled the space between you. Her fingers tightened in your hair, nails grazing your scalp as she gasped your name, lost in the sensation.

You took your time, worshipping her with every touch, every kiss, trailing lower down the smooth plane of her stomach. Her thighs shifted, parting slightly beneath you, inviting you closer. You inched between them, your lips ghosting just above where she wanted you most.

But before you could go further, Emily’s fingers tightened in your hair, stopping you. Your breath caught as you glanced up, finding her already looking at you, her gaze dark and filled with something unshakable. She cupped your face, her thumb brushing along your jaw as she whispered, “I want to feel you.”

Her words sent a new kind of warmth flooding through you—one that settled deep in your chest, wrapping around your ribs, making it impossible to breathe anything but her.

Emily guided you up, her hands gentle but insistent, coaxing you forward and adjusting your position. She guided one of your legs over her thigh, shifting slightly beneath you until your bodies were aligned in a way that stole the breath from both of you.

Emily exhaled against your lips as she let herself sink into the mattress beneath you, dark eyes searching yours in the low light. ”Do you trust me?” she asked, her hands holding your waist steady as your pussy hovered just inches over hers.

“With my life”, you answered breathlessly, your fingers skimming over the sensitive skin of her parted thighs.

Emily’s eyes lit up, there was only one way to explain the look in her eyes. Love. A love that made your chest tighten, made your breath hitch as if you were standing at the edge of something deep and endless.

Her fingers twitched against your skin, ghosting along your waist before tugging you closer, pulling you into her. When your bodies met, your clits kissing in a warm, aching glide, it was nothing like the first time. That night had been driven by tension, urgency, the need to feel something without fully understanding what it was.

But this—this—was different.

Your first movement against her was barely more than a whisper, dragging rather than sliding over her clit. You swallowed thickly, watching the way Emily’s lips parted, her breath catching as your slick bodies found each other.

"God, you feel so good," she murmured, her voice low and reverent.

You moved again, slowly spreading both of your arousal over your skin, the friction between you growing warmer, slicker, more intoxicating. Emily let out a soft gasp, her warm hands on your hips gently guiding your movements, encouraging you to press yourself harder against her.

The first time had been raw, electric: a clash of need and restraint breaking all at once. But now, with each slow roll of your hips, you weren’t just seeking pleasure. You were giving. Giving yourselves to each other in a way you had been too afraid before.

Emily let out a trembling breath as she moved with you, her hips rolling in slow, deliberate circles. Her lips parted with a soft sigh, eyes fluttering open to meet yours.

The strokes became smoother, more fluid, each crossing of your clits sending waves of pleasure through both of you. The friction deepened, filling the silence with soft moans, whimpers, and gasps.

Her hands guided you as much as yours guided her, your movements perfectly in sync. Every shift, every shuddering breath, was a silent confession of everything you had held back for too long.

Emily’s hands framed your face, pulling you down, her lips seeking yours in something tender and desperate all at once. "This—" she gasped between kisses, "—you and me, I don’t ever want to stop feeling this."

"Then don’t," you murmured against her lips, pressing your forehead to hers as your bodies fit together in perfect harmony, slow and deep, the heat between you a steady flame, consuming but never out of control.

Emily gasped softly beneath you, her fingers pressing into your back as her body met yours without hesitation, without fear.

With love.

Something neither of you had dared to name before, but in this moment, with the way you moved together, the way you fit, it became undeniable. No walls. No distance. Just you and Emily, giving yourselves over completely.

Emily’s grip on your hips tightened, her fingers pressing into your skin as your rhythm grew more desperate. The slow, languid movements that had defined the beginning of this had dissolved into something needier, more urgent.

The wet, sinful sound of skin gliding over skin filled the room, the air thick with heat and longing. Each drag of your clits against each other sent another jolt of pleasure up your spine, making you gasp, making Emily shudder beneath you.

"Fuck—" Her voice was breathless, her nails digging into your back as her body arched, pressing impossibly closer.

Your name tumbled from her lips, wrecked and needy, and it sent a fresh wave of arousal pooling between your thighs. Your body trembled, your movements beginning to falter as you felt it—the inevitable crest of pleasure building, curling tight in your core, ready to snap.

"Emily—" You moaned her name, the sound breaking between labored breaths, between the frantic roll of your hips and the way her body answered yours.

You could feel her getting close, too—the way her walls fluttered against you, the way her breath hitched in tiny, desperate gasps, the way her dark eyes were hazy with pleasure, unfocused except for you.

Still, her hands remained steady. Guiding you. Grounding you. Holding you right there on the edge with her.

"I’ve got you," she whispered, her fingers pressing into your skin, coaxing you to keep going, to hold on just a little longer.

And then—bliss.

The pleasure crashed over you in waves, white-hot and all-consuming, pulling you both under. Your body jerked against hers, a strangled moan escaping your lips as you felt Emily fall with you, her body shuddering, her thighs clenching around yours.

For a moment, neither of you moved, just held onto each other, riding out the aftershocks, feeling the heat of her, the weight of her, the undeniable reality of this.

Then, slowly, you collapsed against her, your body trembling, your heart pounding in sync with hers. Emily’s arms wrapped around you, cradling you close as if you were something precious, something irreplaceable.

She pressed a soft kiss to your temple, then another, and another, her lips trailing warmth over your damp skin. Her fingers traced soothing patterns along your spine, grounding you, reminding you that you were here, that she was here, and that nothing else mattered.

Neither of you spoke.

But the words weren’t necessary.

Because for the first time in what felt like forever, the cold that had clung to you, that had buried itself deep in your chest, was gone—melted away by the warmth of her, of this, of finally letting yourself be loved.

𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑒𝓃𝒹.

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss smut #emily prentiss fanfiction #lesbian emily prentiss #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds evolution

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natsaffection · 6 months ago

Text

Wait and Hope. Pt 3 | N.R

Warnings: Hospital stay, coma, broken hearts, Wasting food

Word count: 10,9k

A/n: Aaand here us the final part! Thank you again Anon for this great Idea. 🩵

Natasha leaned against the wall, her knees threatening to give way as the adrenaline that had kept her going slowly began to fade. She knew she had to stay strong, had to pull herself together. For you, for the kids, but as she watched the doctors, the terrible reality of the situation fully dawned on her. The words of her children echoed in her mind, Lilas angry question, Jacob’s heartbreaking plea, Mia’s frightened sobbing. How was she ever going to explain this? How could she make them understand that you might not wake up, that the woman who had fought so hard to be their mother might be taken from them before they had truly let you into their lives?

Natasha closed her eyes, resting her head against the cold, sterile wall, and whispered a silent prayer, a prayer that you would fight, that you would survive, that you would come back to them. Because the alternative was too horrific to contemplate. The waiting was unbearable. Every time the door to the infirmary opened, Natasha’s heart jumped into her throat, only to be shattered again when it was just another nurse or passing doctor. She couldn’t sit still, couldn’t find any semblance of calm in the storm of emotions raging inside her. Fear, guilt, anger..all swirled together, threatening to overwhelm her.

The sterile smell of disinfectant in the air only intensified her fear, mixing with the metallic scent of blood that still clung to her hands, no matter how many times she scrubbed them. Your blood. She could still feel its warmth, still see how it had soaked your clothes, staining them a deep, merciless red. Her mind replayed the moment over and over when you threw yourself in front of the bullets, how you had crumpled to the ground, your eyes wide with shock and pain. Natasha squeezed her eyes shut, trying to push the image away, but it was burned into her memory, a nightmare that wouldn’t let go.

“Why did you do it?” she whispered into the empty hallway, her voice heavy with unshed tears. But even as she asked the question, she knew the answer. You did it because you loved her. Because you couldn’t bear the thought of a world without Natasha. For the same reason Natasha had so often pushed herself to the limit in the past, risking everything to protect the people she loved. But knowing that didn’t make it any easier. On the contrary, it only made the guilt worse.

She couldn’t stop the memories that flooded her mind. Memories of you, so vivid and real that it felt like you were right beside her. She remembered the first time they met, how your smile had lit up the room and disarmed Natasha in a way she hadn’t thought possible. Back then, she had been so closed off, so determined to keep everyone at a distance. But you had broken through all of that, your warmth and kindness slipping through her defenses like water through a crack in a dam.

Then there were all those countless moments of quiet joy they had shared. The lazy Sunday mornings spent together in bed, the sound of your laughter filling the air as they chased the kids around the park, the gentle, stolen kisses in the early hours before the world woke up. You had given Natasha a life she never thought she could have, a family she never believed she deserved.

But now, all of that hung by a thread. A thin, fragile thread that could snap at any moment.

Steve stood nearby, his presence a silent offer of support, but Natasha couldn’t look at him. She knew what he would say words of comfort, reassurances that you would pull through, but she didn’t want to hear it. She couldn’t bear the empty phrases, not when every second felt like a countdown to disaster. “Natasha-” Steve began quietly, his voice filled with concern.

“Don’t.” Natasha snapped, her voice sharp, barely able to keep her emotions in check. “Just..don’t.” Steve fell silent, his brow furrowing in worry, but he respected her need for space. He watched as she resumed her frantic pacing, unable to do more than be there for her. He knew Natasha was spiraling, but there was nothing he could say to pull her out of it.

Every time Natasha thought about what had happened, the guilt nearly consumed her. You had taken those bullets for her. And why? Because you believed-no, you *knew* that the kids needed Natasha more. That they loved Natasha more. That was the brutal truth she could no longer avoid. You had felt like you were losing the children, that they preferred Natasha, and that’s why you did it. The memory of your voice, so weak and filled with pain, echoed in Natasha’s head. “Im so proud of you.”

Those words had been like a knife in Natasha’s heart, cutting deeper with every breath. She had known, in some way, that you had been feeling distant from the kids lately. But she had never realized just how much that distance weighed on you, how much it had pushed you to the edge. You had sacrificed yourself because you thought it was the only way to keep the family together, the only way to make sure the kids wouldn’t grow up without the parent they loved most. And that thought..the knowledge that you felt that way, that you believed Natasha was the better, more needed parent was enough to make Natasha’s breath catch, her heart pounding with guilt and fear.

“What am I supposed to tell them?” Natasha whispered, her voice trembling as she finally stopped pacing and leaned against the wall, slowly sliding down to the floor. She buried her face in her hands, the tears she had been holding back finally breaking free. Steve knelt beside her, his hand hovering near her shoulder, not quite touching. “They love you, Natasha.” he said softly. “They’re kids. They don’t understand-”

“They understand more than you think.” Natasha interrupted, her voice bitter and filled with pain. “They’ve made it clear who they love more. They hardly listen to [Your Name] anymore. They push her away. And now..now she’s the one lying there, fighting for her life because she thought they didn’t need her.” Steve hesitated, then finally rested his hand on Natasha’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “They’re scared, Nat. They’re kids. They don’t know how to deal with everything that’s happened, and sometimes..sometimes kids take out their anger on the people they love because they don’t know how to handle those feelings.”

Natasha shook her head, tears streaming down her face as she looked up at Steve, her eyes filled with despair. “But what if it’s too late? What if she never hears them say they love her again? What if..what if she-?" The thought was too much for her, and Natasha crumbled, sobbing into her hands as the weight of everything came crashing down on her. You had been so brave, so selfless, and now you were lying on that operating table, your life hanging in the balance, all because you believed you weren’t enough for the family you loved so much.

“I should have done more..” Natasha choked out, her voice breaking between sobs. “I should have made sure she knew how much she meant to me, how much she meant to all of us. I should have..I should have seen how much she was hurting.”

Steve pulled her into a gentle embrace, his strong arms wrapping around her as she cried. “It’s not your fault, Nat." he whispered, even though he knew his words wouldn’t take away her guilt. “Y/n knows how much you love her. She knows how much you need her. That’s why she fought so hard. And that’s why she’ll keep fighting.” But Natasha couldn’t shake the sense of doom that had settled in her chest. She clung to Steve, her sobs slowly subsiding into quiet, painful breaths as she tried to find some strength in his words.

After what felt like an eternity, the door to the infirmary finally opened, and Natasha held her breath. Dr. Cho stepped out, her expression exhausted and serious, her scrubs stained with your blood, a sight that sent a fresh wave of nausea through Natasha. “Hey.” she began softly, gently, as if she feared the wrong tone might shatter Natasha completely.

Natasha pulled away from Steve, got to her feet on trembling legs, and faced Cho, her heart pounding so hard she feared it might burst from her chest. “How is she?” she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. Dr. Cho sighed, her face reflecting the gravity of the situation. “We were able to remove the bullets and stop the bleeding. But she’s in a coma. Her condition is critical, and we don’t know how long it will be before she wakes up- if she wakes up.”

Natasha felt as if the ground had opened up beneath her. She swayed slightly, her vision blurred as Cho’s words echoed in her mind. “Coma.” The word felt like a death sentence, a slow, agonizing torture she didn’t know if she could survive. “But she’s alive?” Natasha asked, her voice trembling as she clung to the smallest spark of hope. Cho nodded. “Yes, she’s alive. But she’s not stable. It’s a delicate balance, and all we can do now is wait and hope.”

"Wait and hope." The words felt like a cruel joke. Natasha had always been a woman of action, someone who did everything in her power to protect the people she loved. But now, she could do nothing but stand here helpless, while you fought for your life in that cold, sterile room. Steve placed a hand on Natasha's shoulder again, but she pulled away, shaking her head. "I need to see her." she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I need to be with her."

Cho nodded, her understanding evident in her tone. "You can see her, but be prepared..she's hooked up to several machines and won't be able to respond." Natasha didn't care. She just needed to be near you, to hold your hand and tell you that you weren't alone, that you were loved, even if you couldn't hear it. Dr. Cho led Natasha into the infirmary, where the steady beeping of monitors and the soft hum of machines filled the air. Natasha's heart broke all over again when she saw you lying there, so still and fragile, your skin pale and lifeless against the stark white sheets.

Slowly, she approached the bed, her legs feeling as if they might give way at any moment. The sight of you, connected to so many machines, was almost unbearable. Natasha had always known you were strong, stronger than you ever gave yourself credit for, but seeing you like this, so vulnerable, tore her heart into a thousand pieces. Gently, she took your hand in hers, feeling the coolness of your skin, the slight tremor running through her own fingers as she held on to you. "I'm here, Y/n.." she whispered, her voice breaking. "I'm right here. Please..please come back to me. The kids..they need you. I need you."

But there was no response, just the steady beeping of the heart monitor, the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest as the ventilator did its work. Natasha sat down on the chair beside the bed, her eyes never leaving your face as she whispered words of love and hope, praying with every fiber of her being that you could hear her, that you would wake up, that they would have another chance to make things right.

The days after your surgery blurred together in a haze of fear and waiting. You remained in a coma, your condition stable but unchanged, and the uncertainty slowly gnawed at Natasha. She spent every possible moment by your side, clutching your still-cool fingers, whispering words of love and encouragement, begging you to wake up. Every day, Natasha brought the kids to see you, a routine that had become her way of coping with the uncertainty. Lila, Jacob, and Mia each dealt with it in their own way, but Natasha knew that being near you, even if you couldn't respond, was helping them process their feelings.

Today was no exception. As they entered the quiet room where you lay, the steady beeping of the heart monitor the only sound, Natasha felt that familiar tug in her chest. She led the children to your bedside, her eyes never leaving your pale, peaceful face. Jacob, who had been standing silently beside Lila, stepped closer, his face twisted with worry. He hesitated for a moment, then placed his small hand on yours, his voice trembling as he spoke. "Please wake up, Y/n.." he whispered. "I..I don't want you to be hurt any longer. We all want you to come home."

Mia, who was clutching a piece of paper in her little hands, stepped forward next. She had been drawing pictures for you every day, leaving them on the nightstand beside your bed, as if they could somehow help you heal. Today, Mia had drawn a picture of her family, a simple, colorful drawing of five stick figures holding hands, with a big, bright sun overhead. Natasha, you, Lila, Jacob, and Mia were all there, smiling and happy. "Look, I made this for you." Mia said softly, her voice full of hope. She carefully placed the picture on the bed next to you. "This is us. See?" Natasha's heart swelled with emotion as she watched Mia interact with you. Mia had been distant for so long, hesitant to build a connection with you the way she had with Natasha. But here she was, so small and innocent, offering you her love and support in the best way she knew how.

As Mia stepped back, Natasha noticed something on the picture that took her breath away. Above the stick figure representing you, in Mia's careful, childlike handwriting, were the words "Mama." "Mia.." Natasha whispered, her voice trembling as she knelt down to her daughter. "Did you write 'Mama' on your picture?"

Mia nodded, her eyes shining with a mix of pride and uncertainty. "Yes.." she said softly. "She's my mama too, right?" Tears welled up in Natasha's eyes, and she pulled Mia into a tight hug, her heart aching with love for her daughter and the woman who had fought so hard to become part of their family. "Yes, she is." Natasha whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "She's your mama too, and she loves you very much. I know she'll be so happy when she sees your picture."

Mia sniffled, nodding as she hugged Natasha back. "I hope it helps her wake up.." she murmured. "Come on.." Natasha said gently, guiding them softly toward the door. "It's time for Mama to rest." As they left the room, Natasha cast one last glance at you, lying peacefully in the hospital bed, Mia's drawing still beside you. The sight of the lovingly written word "Mama" filled Natasha with renewed hope.

In the following days, Lila was constantly drawn to the hospital room. She sat in the corner, watching your motionless form, as your chest rose and fell with each labored breath. At first, Lila kept her distance, arms crossed, her face set in a mask of indifference. But inside, her emotions were a storm, battling between fear and guilt.

One evening, after another long day of waiting and worrying, Lila couldn't take it anymore. She found Natasha in the hallway, looking more exhausted and broken than ever before. Lila's chest tightened as she saw Natasha run a hand through her hair, her usually sharp eyes dulled with sorrow. Lila approached her slowly, her voice trembling as she spoke. "I need to know what happened." she said, her words filled with a desperate need for answers. "You're here every day, and I see you suffering. But I need to know why. What happened that day? What really happened to Y/n?"

Natasha looked at Lila, her heart aching at the pain in her daughter's eyes. She had tried to shield Lila from the full truth, wanting to protect her from the horrors of that day. But she could see that Lila needed to know, that not knowing was eating her up inside. Natasha took a deep breath, nodded, and led Lila to a quiet corner of the hospital where they could talk undisturbed. She didn't know how to start, how to put into words the events that had shaken their lives.

"It was like any other mission..." Natasha began, her voice trembling slightly. "We knew it was dangerous, but we had no choice. Things went wrong from the start, and by the time we realized it, it was too late. We were ambushed, and I..." Natasha paused, her throat tightening as she remembered the moment that haunted her every waking thought. "An agent aimed his gun at me, and I couldn't move..."

Lila watched Natasha closely, her heart pounding as she listened. The image of her mother, the strong and fearless Natasha Romanoff, cornered and helpless. Natasha continued, her voice breaking. "But Y/n..she saw what was happening. She didn't hesitate. She jumped in front of me and took the bullets. She..she saved my life." The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of the truth. Lila felt the ground shift beneath her as the full impact of what Natasha had said hit her. Y/n had nearly died because she chose to protect Natasha. The realization was like a hammer blow to her heart. "She did that..for you?" Lila whispered, her voice barely audible. "But..but why?"

"Because she loves us." Natasha replied, her voice trembling with emotion. "Because she wanted to protect me, to protect all of us. She wasn't thinking about herself, only about keeping us safe." Lila's eyes filled with tears as she looked away, unable to meet Natasha's gaze. "It's my fault." she choked out, her voice shaking with guilt. "If I..if I had made her feel like she belonged, maybe she wouldn't have felt like she had to prove herself. Maybe she wouldn't have gotten hurt, maybe.."

"Lila, no." Natasha said quickly, reaching out to her. But Lila pulled away, her emotions boiling over. "It's my fault!" Lila cried, her voice rising with the pain she felt. "I made her feel like an outsider! I pushed her away, and now..now she's lying in that bed because of me!" Natasha's heart broke at the sight of Lila's pain, but before she could say anything, Lila turned and ran, tears streaming down her face. Natasha called after her, but Lila didn't stop. She couldn't bear it, couldn't face the reality of what had happened, of what she believed she had caused. Lila ran until her legs gave out and collapsed in a secluded area of the hospital, her body shaking with sobs. She didn’t know how long she sat there, crying into her hands, overwhelmed by the crushing weight of her guilt. All she could think about was how she had pushed you away, how she had refused to let you in, and yet you had sacrificed everything to protect your family..

The next evening, Natasha lay on the small, uncomfortable couch pushed into a corner of the room, her eyes closed, though sleep continued to elude her as usual. Ever since you had been brought here, she had refused to leave your side, sleeping only in short, restless intervals on that couch, always ready to be there if you showed even the smallest sign of waking.

Earlier in the day, Mia had brought you another of her drawings, proudly showing off the colorful picture with "Mama" carefully written above the stick figure representing you. It was a moment of bittersweet hope, one that filled Natasha with a mix of pride and sadness. She had kissed her children goodnight and watched them leave with Maria. Maria had also informed Natasha that Lila was safely in her room and not coming out. As the hours passed, Natasha’s thoughts swirled in a fog of memories and what-ifs. She tried to focus on the rhythm of your breathing, the steady rise and fall of your chest, and hoped it was a sign that you were fighting your way back. But despite her exhaustion, her mind refused to rest, her thoughts repeatedly returning to the same fear. That you might never wake up.

Then, in the silence, Natasha’s finely tuned instincts picked up the faint sound of the door opening. Her eyes snapped open, her body tensing automatically, but she didn’t move. She recognized the sound of those steps, the cautious way they moved across the floor.

Lila.

Natasha forced herself to stay still, to keep her breathing steady, and pretended to sleep as she listened to her Daughter sneak into the room. Lila moved quietly to your bedside, and Natasha heard the soft scrape of a chair being pulled closer to the bed. There was a long pause, and Natasha could almost feel the weight of Lilas emotions filling the room. She kept her eyes closed, her heart clenching as she realized what this moment meant for you both.

“I don’t understand you..” Lila whispered, her voice breaking the silence. She wasn’t sure if you could even hear her, but she had to say it, had to let the words out. “Why did you do it? You barely know us, and I was nothing but a burden.”

She felt the familiar sting of tears in her eyes but blinked them away. “I don’t understand why I matter to you so much.” she continued, her voice trembling. “You keep trying, even when I push you away. You don’t give up on me, even when I’ve been awful to you.” Lila’s voice caught in her throat. “I’m s-sorry..” Then the tears came, hot and fast, and Lila didn’t try to hold them back. She had kept everything bottled up for so long, afraid to let it out, but now she couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“I’m so sorry I pushed you away..” Lila went on, her voice breaking as she spoke. “I was scared, scared that you’d leave if I let you in, just like everyone else. But I was wrong. You didn’t leave. You stayed, even when I was awful, even when I didn’t deserve it.” Natasha bit her lip, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. She knew how hard you had fought to build a connection with Lila, how much it hurt you that she kept you at a distance.

“I was so stupid..” Lila admitted, her voice shaking. “I wouldn’t let myself love you because I was too scared.” She angrily wiped away the tears, frustrated with herself. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry for being so difficult, for not letting you in. I..I just didn’t know how. But I don’t want you to go. I don’t want to lose you.” Lila took a trembling breath, her hands shaking as she reached for your hand. It was warm but limp in her grasp, a reminder of how fragile life is. She gently squeezed it as if willing you to wake up, to respond, to give her a sign that you were still there.

“Please, Mama..” Lila whispered, the word slipping out before she could stop it. It felt strange on her tongue, but also right, as if it had been waiting to be spoken. “I’m so scared of losing you before I ever really showed you.”

There was a long pause, the room filled with the weight of her confession. Natasha’s heart ached for both of you, for you, who had fought so hard to be accepted, and for Lila, who was finally realizing how much you meant to her. And now, hearing her call you “Mama” for the first time, knowing how much it would have meant to you if you could hear it, was almost too much to bear. “You were always my Mama..” Lila whispered, her voice breaking. “I just didn’t know how to say it. I love you, and I need you to wake up. Please, Mama..please wake up. Mom, Mia, Jacob..and I..we need you here.”

For a moment, there was only silence, and then..something changed. A gentle, almost imperceptible movement. Natasha’s heart skipped a beat, her breath catching as she heard a faint rustling from the bed. Lila must have noticed it too because she fell silent, her breath hitching as she looked down at you. “M-Mama?” she whispered, her voice filled with a mix of hope and fear.

Natasha’s eyes widened, her heart pounding in her chest as she saw it..your hand, the fingers twitching slightly. It was small, barely noticeable, but it was enough. Natasha was on her feet in an instant, crossing the room in a fraction of a second. “Lila, stay with her.” Natasha ordered, her voice tense with emotion as she reached for the call button to summon the doctor. “I’ll get Helen.” Lilas eyes were wide, her hand still holding yours, her grip tightening as she saw your eyelids flutter. “Mom..is she..?”

“She’s waking up, Lila." Natasha whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of hope and disbelief. “She’s waking up.” Before she could say more, the door to the room flew open, and Cho rushed in, her face a mixture of professional calm and urgency. Natasha stepped back to give Cho space, but she stayed close, her heart hammering in her chest. Cho leaned over you, her hands moving with practiced precision as she checked your vitals, her eyes fixed on your face. “Y/n, can you hear me? If you can hear me, try to open your eyes.”

For a moment, nothing happened, and Natasha felt her heart clench with fear. But then, slowly, painfully, your eyelids fluttered again, this time with more intent. Your fingers twitched in Lilas hand, and she gasped, her eyes wide with shock and hope. “Mama?” Lila whispered again, her voice trembling.

Your eyes opened just a sliver, your gaze unfocused, but you were trying, trying to come back to them. Natasha felt tears streaming down her face, and she quickly wiped them away, not wanting to miss a single moment of this miracle. Dr. Cho smiled softly, a look of relief spreading across her face. “That’s it, Y/n.” she encouraged. “Keep your eyes open. You’re doing great.”

Your eyes slowly began to focus, your gaze searching the room until it landed on your Daughters face, who was looking down at you with a mix of awe and love. “Hey, Mama..” Lila repeated, her voice breaking as she gently squeezed your hand. “I’m here. We’re all here.”

Your lips parted, and although no sound came out at first, the effort was clear. Natasha watched with bated breath as your gaze finally met Lilas, recognition flickering in your tired but living eyes.. “Lila.." your voice was barely more than a whisper, hoarse from the long silence, but it was the most beautiful sound Natasha had ever heard. Lilas face crumpled with emotion, and she leaned down, gently pressing her forehead against yours. “You’re back. ” She whispered, her tears finally breaking free. “I’m so sorry..I love you so much..”

Natasha covered her mouth with her hand as she tried to hold back the sobs of relief and joy that threatened to overwhelm her. She had waited so long for this moment, had prayed for it, and now that it was finally here, it felt almost too good to be true. Your hand moved weakly in Lilas grasp, your gaze shifting to Natasha, who was looking down at you with love and gratitude despite your exhaustion. “Hey..” you breathed, your voice barely audible.

Natasha stepped forward, her legs trembling as she reached for your other hand. “I’m here.” she whispered, her voice full of emotion. “We’re all here, Y/n. We’re all here, and we’re not going anywhere.” Dr. Cho smiled gently at the sight and stepped back to give the family a moment. “She’s still very weak. She warned gently, "but this is a very good sign. We need to monitor her closely, but it looks like she's going to recover."

Natasha nodded, tears streaming down her face as she held your hand, gently stroking your knuckles. "Thank you." she whispered, though she wasn't sure if she was thanking Dr. Cho, the universe, or you. All that mattered was that you were here, that you had come back to them. Lila stayed close to you, her hand never leaving yours as she leaned in, his her soft and full of emotion. "We missed you. We need you." Your eyes fluttered shut again, your energy spent, but the small smile on your lips told Natasha everything she needed to know. You were going to get better. They were all going to get better.

The morning light gently filtered through the blinds of the hospital room, casting a warm glow over your bed. Natasha sat beside you, holding your hand gently, her eyes still red from the tears of relief she had shed the night before. You were awake, and although you were still weak, you had finally come back to them. It was a miracle Natasha had prayed for, and she couldn’t suppress the overwhelming feeling of gratitude that filled her heart every time she looked at your face.

You stirred slightly, your eyelids fluttering as you squeezed Natasha’s hand. "Morning.." you murmured, your voice still hoarse from the long silence. "Morning." Natasha replied, in an instant. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired.." you admitted, a small smile playing on your lips. "But better..especially because you’re here." Natasha leaned forward and gently kissed your forehead. "I’m not going anywhere." she promised. "The kids will be here soon. They’ve been so worried about you."

As if on cue, the door to the room opened, and the sound of small, excited footsteps filled the room. Mia was the first to burst into the room, her face lighting up when she saw you awake and sitting slightly upright in the bed. "Mama!!" Mia called out, running to the bed with outstretched arms. Before Natasha could stop her, Mia jumped onto the bed, her small body enthusiastically bumping against yours.

You groaned softly in pain, your body still tender and weak from the injuries you had sustained. Natasha’s heart skipped a beat, and she quickly moved to intervene. "Mia, sweetheart, be gentle.." Natasha said softly but firmly, pulling Mia back a little. "Mama is still very sore, okay?" Mia’s eyes widened with concern as she looked at you. "I’m sorry!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with worry. "I didn’t mean to hurt you!" You managed a weak smile and gently ran your fingers through Mia’s curly hair. "It’s okay, darling.." you whispered, your voice soft but full of love. "I’m just so happy to see you."

By then, Lila and Jacob had also entered the room, their faces glowing with relief as they saw you awake and smiling, even though you still looked a little pale. Lila, trying to be the responsible big Sister, held Jacob’s hand as they carefully approached the bed. "Hey, Ma," Lila said, her voice calm but full of emotion. "We missed you." Jacob nodded, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Yes, Mama.." he echoed, his voice trembling slightly. "We’re so glad you’re awake."

Your heart swelled as you looked at your children, their faces full of love and relief. Hearing them all call you "Mama" was like balm for your soul, healing wounds you had carried in your heart for so long. Mia, eager to show you everything she had worked on, pulled out the stack of drawings she had brought with her. "Mama, I made so many pictures for you while you were sleeping!" she said excitedly, holding them out to you. "Look! This one shows all of us together!"

You smiled warmly, taking the drawings from Mia’s small hands. You began flipping through them, admiring each one and listening as Mia explained the different scenes she had drawn. Each picture was a colorful explosion of love and innocence, capturing the world as Mia saw it. But then your hand paused as you reached a particular drawing, a simple picture of your family, all five of you standing together and smiling. Above the stick figure representing you, in Mia’s careful, childlike handwriting, was the word "Mama."

Your breath caught, your eyes filling with tears as you traced the letters with your finger. It was the first time Mia had called you "Mama" in any form, and seeing it now, so lovingly written in a drawing made just for you, filled you with a deep sense of belonging. "Mia.." you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. "You..you called me Mama."

Mia nodded eagerly, her face beaming with pride. "Yes! Because you are my Mama!" she said, her voice full of conviction. You felt your heart swell, tears streaming down your face as you gently pulled Mia into a soft, careful hug. "Thank you, sweetheart." you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "It means the world to me." Natasha, who stood nearby, felt her own tears rising as she watched the scene. It was everything she had wished for, everything you had deserved for so long. Your family was coming together in a way that felt right, in a way that was healing not just you but everyone.

As you continued to flip through the drawings, Mia carefully climbed onto the bed next to you, this time making sure not to jostle you too much. "I’m going to draw you even more pictures.." Mia promised, her eyes shining with love. "I’ll draw as many as you want!" You smiled, your heart filled with love and gratitude. "I can’t wait to see them, darling." you said softly, kissing Mia gently on the head. Lila and Jacob moved closer, both leaning in carefully to give you a gentle hug. "We’re so glad you’re okay." Lila said, her voice quiet and sincere. "We missed you."

"I missed you too." you replied, your voice full of warmth as you looked at each of your children in turn. "I’m so proud of all of you. You were so brave, and I love you more than you��ll ever know." Natasha stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder, her eyes filled with love and pride. "We’re all so proud of yo.," she whispered, her voice full of emotion. "You fought so hard to come back to us, and now..now we’re finally together."

You looked up at Natasha, your eyes brimming with tears of joy. "I couldn’t have done it without you." you whispered back. "Without all of you." The gentle hum of the medical equipment provided a soothing background as the children reluctantly left the hospital room, guided by Maria. They had spent the morning showering you with affection, and now it was time for Dr. Cho to conduct a routine examination. Natasha watched them go, a small smile on her lips as Mia blew you a kiss from the doorway.

When the door closed softly behind them, the room felt a bit emptier, though the warmth of the morning’s visit still lingered. Dr. Cho entered the room with her usual professional demeanor, her presence a calming anchor amid the emotional turmoil of the past days. “How are we doing today?” Dr. Cho asked kindly as she approached the bed.

“We’re doing good.” you replied with a grin, though your voice was still a bit weak. “I’ve got my whole team here taking care of me.” Dr. Cho smiled as she began her examination, checking vital signs and gently inspecting the wounds. Natasha stood nearby, arms crossed, her gaze fixed on you with a mixture of love and lingering concern in her eyes.

As Dr. Cho carefully removed the bandages to examine the healing wounds, you winced slightly in pain but forced a smile to lighten the mood. “You know, I was thinking..these scars are going to be pretty impressive trophies. I’ll be able to tell the kids I fought off an entire army of Hydra agents.” Dr. Cho chuckled softly as she continued her work. “Well, you certainly earned those scars. But let’s focus on getting you fully healed before you start collecting trophies, okay?”

You grinned, but the playful expression on your face didn’t reach Natasha, who was staring at the wounds, reliving the moment the bullets hit. She could still hear the sound of the shots, feel the panic as you collapsed, blood soaking through your clothes. The memories overwhelmed her. Your body hitting the ground, Natasha’s desperate screams for help, the overwhelming fear of losing you forever. Her breath hitched, and she had to force herself to stay in the present, to remember that you were here, alive, and on the road to recovery.

Sensing the sudden change in Natasha’s demeanor, you looked at her with concern. “Hey, Nat..” you said softly, your voice cutting through Natasha’s spiraling thoughts. “It’s okay. I’m here.” Natasha blinked, returning to the present, and quickly forced a smile, though her eyes were still shadowed by the memories. “I know.” she whispered, trying to sound reassuring, but she couldn’t hide the strain in her expression.

Dr. Cho finished her examination and gently re-bandaged the wounds. “The wounds are healing well.” she said, looking up at Natasha with a comforting smile. “She’s making good progress, but she still needs plenty of rest.”

“Thank you, Helen.” you said, giving a thumbs up, though your attention remained on Natasha. You could sense that something was wrong, that Natasha was holding something back, trying to stay strong. After Dr. Cho left, you looked at Natasha with a knowing gaze. “Come here..” you said softly, patting the spot next to you on the bed. “Lie down with me.”

Natasha hesitated for a moment, but then she nodded, unable to resist your gentle urging. She carefully climbed onto the bed, mindful of your injuries, and settled beside you. You shifted slightly, grimacing in pain, but you wrapped an arm around Natasha and pulled her close. Natasha let out a shaky breath, the warmth of your body grounding her in the present. She pressed her forehead against your shoulder and allowed herself to relax for the first time in days.

You gently stroked Natasha’s hair, your touch soothing. “Tell me..” you whispered. “What’s going on in your mind?” Natasha closed her eyes, taking in your familiar scent, the feel of your heartbeat against her own. “I..I keep seeing it..” she confessed, her voice barely more than a whisper. “I see you getting hit, hear the shots..I was so scared. I thought I was going to lose you.”

Your heart ached at the pain in Natasha’s voice. You held her tighter, your thumb tracing calming circles on her back. “But you didn’t lose me.” you said softly. “I’m here, Nat. I’m right here with you.”

“I know..” Natasha murmured, her voice trembling. “But it’s hard to let go of that. Every time I see those wounds, I can’t stop thinking about how close I was to losing you.” You sighed quietly, understanding the weight of those memories. “You were there for me when I needed you most, Nat. You got me to safety, you made sure I got here, and now I’m healing because of you. We’re going to get through this, okay?”

Natasha nodded, a tear slipping down her cheek as she buried her face in your shoulder. “I was so scared.” she whispered again, the confession coming from a place of deep vulnerability. “But I’m so grateful you’re here.” You kissed the top of Natasha’s head gently, your voice filled with love. “I’m grateful too. And I’m so proud of you, Nat. You were so strong for me, for the kids..I don’t know how I would have done it without you.”

You lay there in silence for a while, holding each other close, finding comfort in the nearness of the other. The trauma of the past days was still there, but in each other’s arms, you both found a sense of peace. After a few minutes, you spoke again, your voice gentle but curious. “How are the kids handling everything? I know they’ve visited me, but..how are they really doing?”

Natasha smiled softly, lifting her head to look at you. “They’re doing okay, all things considered. Lila has been incredible. Shes really stepped into the big sister role and has been taking care of Mia and Jacob. And Mia..she’s been bringing you those drawings every day, you know.” Your eyes softened at the mention of the drawings. “I saw the one yesterday.” you said, your voice filled with emotion. “The one where she called me ‘Mama.’ I couldn’t believe it.”

“She’s been calling you that ever since.” Natasha replied, her heart swelling with love. “And it’s not just her. Lila and Jacob..they’ve started calling you ‘Mama’ too.” Your eyes filled with tears, and you let out a shaky breath. “I never thought I’d hear that from them.”

Natasha smiled, wiping a tear from your cheek. “They love you. They’ve always loved you. I think..I think they just didn’t know how to show it until now.” You nodded, your heart full as you pulled Natasha closer. “I’m so glad I’m here to hear it.” you murmured. “I’m so glad I didn’t miss it.” You lay there for a while longer, wrapped tightly around each other on the small hospital bed, speaking softly about the children, your future, and the love that had carried you through the darkest times. The trauma was still there, but together, you found the strength to face it and heal.

Finally, the day had come. After weeks of recovery in the hospital, you were being discharged. Natasha stood by the window, watching as the morning sun streamed into the room, bathing everything in a golden light. It felt like a new beginning, a second chance you had all been waiting for.

You sat on the edge of the hospital bed, dressed in comfortable clothes Natasha had brought from home. There was a lightness in your eyes that hadn’t been there for weeks, a feeling of relief, of gratitude for the simple fact of going home. Cho had given you the all-clear, though she had thoroughly reminded you that you still needed plenty of rest and care. You were still weak, still healing, but the worst was behind you. Natasha packed up the few things you had accumulated during your hospital stay. A few books, some drawings the kids had brought, and a small bouquet of flowers Steve and the rest of the team had sent. She turned to you with a gentle smile. “Ready to go home?”

You looked up at Natasha, your eyes shining with emotion. “I’ve been ready since I woke up.” you said, your voice warm but tinged with the exhaustion that still clung to you. “I can’t wait to be home with you and the kids.” Natasha stepped closer, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “We’ve been waiting for this day too." she whispered. “They’re all so excited to have you back.”

At that moment, the door swung open, and the children burst in, their faces glowing with joy and anticipation. Mia was the first to reach you, practically bouncing with excitement. “Mama! You’re coming home today!” she exclaimed, her voice filled with enthusiasm. You grinned, stretching out your arms to embrace Mia, who snuggled against you. “Yes, I am.” you replied, your heart swelling with love as you saw the happiness in your daughter’s eyes. “And I can’t wait to spend the day with you.”

Jacob, with his usual calm demeanor, stepped forward next, his face bright with relief. “I’m glad you’re coming home, Mama.” he said softly, sliding his hand into yours. “We missed you so much.” Your eyes glistened with unshed tears as you squeezed Jacob’s hand gently. “I missed you too, sweetheart.” you whispered. “I’m so happy to be going home with you.”

Lila hesitated for a moment, her expression more reserved, but the emotion in her eyes was unmistakable. Finally, she approached you, a shy smile tugging at her lips. “It’s about time they let you out of here..” She said, trying to keep her tone light, but the relief in her voice was evident. You chuckled softly, “I know, right? I was starting to think they’d never let me go.” Natasha watched the exchange, her heart full of joy as she took in the sight of your reunited family. This was the moment she had been waiting for, the day when you could all be together again, without the shadow of fear hanging over you.

Dr. Cho entered the room, smiling warmly at your family. “Are we ready to go home?” she asked, her voice filled with encouraging brightness. You nodded, taking a deep breath. “More than ready.” you replied, your voice steady. Dr. Cho quickly went over the final instructions, reminding you to take it easy, get plenty of rest, and come in for follow-up appointments. Natasha listened intently, committing everything to memory. She was determined to make sure your recovery at home went smoothly.

With everything in place, Natasha helped you to your feet, supporting you as you took your first cautious steps. You leaned on her, grateful for her steady presence, but also determined to show your strength. You were ready to leave this place behind and begin the next chapter of your life. The children clustered around you, each of them eager to help in their own way. Lila carried your bag, while Jacob and Mia flanked you on either side, their small hands resting on your arms as if they were there to support you.

The walk to the car was slow, but it was filled with a sense of triumph. Every step you took was a victory, a reminder that you had survived the darkest days and were now on the path back to the life you loved.. During the drive home, the car was filled with chatter and laughter. The children couldn’t stop talking about all the things they wanted to do now that you were back home. Family movie nights, picnics in the park, and Mia was especially excited to show you the new drawings she had made just for you.

Natasha kept one hand on the steering wheel, while the other rested on your knee, a silent connection between you. She glanced over at you, seeing you relaxed against the seat, your eyes closed, a content smile playing on your lips. When you finally pulled up in front of the house, the children practically burst out of the car, racing to the front door to open it for you. Natasha helped you out of the car, wrapping an arm around your waist to support you as you walked up the steps together.

The moment you stepped into the house, a wave of relief washed over you. The familiar scent of home, the warmth of the rooms, and the sight of the life you had built together, it was everything you had fought for. Mia immediately grabbed your hand, tugging you toward the living room. “Come on, Mama! I want to show you what I made!”

You laughed softly, letting Mia lead you to the sofa, where you carefully sat down. Natasha was close behind, ready to help if needed, but she was just happy to see you home at last. Jacob ran into the kitchen and quickly returned with a glass of water, offering it to you with a serious expression. “Here, Mama.” he said earnestly. “You should drink this.”

You took the glass with a grateful smile, taking a sip before setting it on the coffee table. “Thank you, Jacob..” you said warmly. “You’re such a good helper.” Lila, trying to maintain her cool demeanor, hung back a little, but the gentle smile on her face betrayed her happiness. “If you need anything, just let me know, okay, Ma?” She said, her voice carrying a note of quiet sincerity.

“I will, Lila.” you replied, your heart swelling with love for your children. Mia climbed up beside you on the sofa, pulling out her latest drawing from behind a cushion. “Look, Mama! I made this last night! It’s our whole family!” You took the drawing from Mia’s small hands, your eyes misting over as you took in the bright colors and happy figures she had drawn. In the center of the picture was your family, all holding hands, with “Mama” written in big, bold letters above your figure.

“It’s beautiful..” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “Thank you for making it for me.” Mia beamed, leaning against you and giving you a gentle hug. Natasha sat down beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “We’ve got you now.” she whispered, her voice filled with love. “You’re home, and that’s all that matters.” You leaned into Natasha’s embrace, feeling the love and warmth of your family surrounding you. The road to full recovery still lay ahead, but with your family by your side, you knew you could face anything.

As the afternoon wore on, the sounds of life filled the house. Laughter, conversation, and the pitter-patter of the children’s feet as they ran around with renewed energy. And through it all, you felt a deep sense of peace and gratitude. You were home, where you belonged, with the people you loved most in the world. And as the day turned to evening, you and Natasha sat together on the couch, your children snuggled close, and you knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would face them together, as a family.

Several months had passed since you had returned home from the hospital, and life had gradually settled into a comfortable rhythm. The scars from your ordeal had healed, leaving only faint marks as reminders of the battle you had fought. Your strength had returned, and with it, the joy of fully embracing your role within your family once more. One Saturday afternoon, the house was buzzing with the energy that only comes when everyone is home and looking for something fun to do together. You, Natasha, and the kids were gathered at the kitchen, ready to tackle a new family activity: making homemade pizzas.

The kitchen island was covered with ingredients, slices of pepperoni, bowls of cheese, fresh vegetables, and various sauces. Lila, who had taken a recent interest in cooking, was carefully spreading tomato sauce over her pizza dough, her tongue sticking out slightly as she concentrated. Mia was excitedly sprinkling cheese on her pizza, making sure every inch was covered, while Jacob, ever the perfectionist, was meticulously placing his toppings in neat rows. You and Natasha exchanged amused glances, both of you reveling in the happy chaos that surrounded you.

"Alright, who wants to add the secret ingredient?" Natasha asked, holding up a small jar of fresh basil leaves. "Me! Me!" Mia shouted, jumping up and down with her hand raised high. "Okay, Mia, you get to do the honors." Natasha said, handing her the jar.

Mia carefully took out a few basil leaves and sprinkled them on top of her pizza, her face glowing with pride. "Now it’s perfect!" she declared. Jacob, not to be outdone, added a few basil leaves to his pizza as well. "I think mine looks pretty good, too!"

Lila, on the other hand, was more focused on making sure her pizza looked like a work of art. She had carefully arranged the pepperoni slices into a smiley face, and as she stepped back to admire her work, she nodded with satisfaction. "Looks great." you said, giving her a thumbs-up. "Everyone's doing an awesome job." Natasha grinned mischievously as she reached for a handful of cheese. "You know what would make this even better?"

You raised an eyebrow, already sensing the playful glint in her eyes. "What?" Without warning, Natasha tossed a handful of cheese at you, laughing as it landed on your head. "A little bit of extra cheese, just for you!" The kids burst into giggles as you stood there, a mock look of shock on your face. "Oh, you did not just do that."

"Oh, I definitely did.." Natasha said, her smile widening. Not one to back down, you grabbed a handful of flour from the counter and lightly dusted Natasha's hair with it. "There, now we match." The kitchen erupted in laughter as Natasha shook her head, sending a cloud of flour into the air. "Alright, now it's on!" she declared, reaching for the bowl of tomato sauce. Before anyone could stop her, Natasha flicked a spoonful of sauce in your direction, but you dodged just in time, causing it to splatter across the countertop.

Mia, eyes wide with excitement, quickly joined in by tossing a few stray pieces of pepperoni at Jacob, who retaliated with a handful of mushrooms. Lila, seeing her opportunity, grabbed a handful of cheese and tossed it at you with a grin. "Sorry, Mama, but I’m with Mom on this one!"

Soon, the entire kitchen turned into a battlefield of food. Cheese flew through the air, flour dusted the counters, and vegetables were scattered across the floor. You couldn’t stop laughing as you and Natasha teamed up against the kids, who shrieked with joy as they dodged and counterattacked with equal enthusiasm. At one point, you found yourself cornered by both Mia and Jacob, who had somehow managed to team up against you. "Surrender, Mama!" Jacob demanded, holding a piece of broccoli as if it were a weapon.

"Never!" you laughed, trying to fend them off with a handful of pepperoni. Natasha, seeing your predicament, rushed to your rescue, pelting the kids with a few extra leaves of basil. "Let your mama go!" she ordered playfully..In the end, everyone was covered in food, and the kitchen looked like a disaster zone. But the sound of laughter echoed through the house, and the sense of pure joy made every bit of mess worth it.

When the battle finally died down, you all collapsed onto the kitchen floor, breathless and laughing. Natasha leaned over and planted a flour-dusted kiss on your cheek, her eyes sparkling. "I think we make a pretty good team.".You grinned back at her, still catching your breath. "The best." The kids were sprawled out around you, all of them grinning from ear to ear. Lila, who was still giggling, looked over at you with a playful smirk. "That was so much fun. We should do this every week!"

Mia nodded enthusiastically, her face smeared with tomato sauce. "Yeah! Pizza wars every Saturday!" Jacob, always the practical one, sighed dramatically. "But we’re going to have to clean all of this up, aren’t we?" You and Natasha looked around at the chaos, and then at each other, before bursting into laughter again. "Yeah, but it was totally worth it." Natasha said, ruffling Jacob’s hair.

"Alright, troops!" you announced, clapping your hands together. "Let’s get this place cleaned up so we can actually eat these pizzas. But first, how about we take a picture to remember this day?" Everyone gathered around, and Natasha set up her phone on the counter, setting the timer. As the camera flashed, you all huddled together, covered in food but filled with happiness.

The pizzas, once they were finally cooked, tasted even better after all the fun you’d had making them. You all sat down together at the table, enjoying the fruits of your chaotic labor, the laughter continuing as you recounted the best moments of the "pizza war." As you looked around the table, at the smiles on your children’s faces and the warmth in Natasha’s eyes, you couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of contentment. These were the moments that made everything worthwhile. The laughter, the love, the togetherness.

Hours later, you stood in the kitchen, watching the late afternoon sunlight filter through the windows, The house was filled with the familiar sounds of life. Mia's laughter, Jacob's chatter, and the soft hum of Natasha's voice as she discussed something with Steve on the phone in the next room. It was a peaceful, ordinary day, the kind you had longed for during those difficult weeks of recovery.

As you poured yourself a cup of tea, you heard the sound of hesitant footsteps approaching. You turned to see Lila standing in the doorway, her expression thoughtful. She had grown so much in the past few months, both physically and emotionally, and you couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride as you looked at her. “Hey, Ma.” Lila greeted you, using the casual nickname she had adopted for you ever since you had come home. It was a sign of the bond that had strengthened between you two..a bond you cherished deeply.

“Hey.” you replied with a warm smile, setting down your cup. “What’s on your mind?” Lila shifted her weight from one foot to the other, a small, almost mischievous smile playing on her lips. “So, um, I was wondering..Some of my friends are going to the movies tonight, and they invited me to go with them. I really want to go, but..well, I figured I should ask you first.”

You raised an eyebrow, sensing there was more to the story. “And why didn’t you go straight to your mom with this?” you asked gently, already knowing the answer. Lila sighed, her smile turning sheepish. “Because I know she’ll say no. You know how strict she is about curfews and all that. But you’re a little more..reasonable.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle softly. Lila knew exactly how to play her cards, and over time, you had learned to navigate the delicate balance between being the understanding parent and maintaining the boundaries Natasha had set. “Well, I appreciate you coming to me.” you said, leaning against the counter. “But you also know that your mom and I are a team. We have to be on the same page when it comes to decisions like this.”

Lila nodded, looking down at her feet for a moment. “I know. But I promise I won’t be out late, and I’ll text you both every hour if you want! I just really want to go..It’s been a while since I’ve hung out with my friends outside of school.” You could hear the sincerity in her voice and saw the hopeful glint in her eyes. You knew how much these moments meant to her, especially after everything your family had been through. You also understood the importance of giving her some freedom to grow and experience life.

“Alright,” you said after a moment’s thought, “I’ll let you go, but you have to promise me a few things.” Lila’s face lit up with excitement. “Anything, Ma! What do you need me to do?” “First, you’ll text both me and your mom when you get to the theater and when you’re leaving.” you began. “Second, you’ll be home by 10:30 at the latest. And third, if anything feels off, you call us immediately. Deal?”

Lila nodded eagerly, a huge grin spreading across her face. “Deal! Thank you, Mama!” The switch from “Ma” to “Mama” was subtle, but you noticed it. Lila had taken to using “Mama” whenever she was particularly grateful or when she really wanted something. It was a small thing, but it made your heart swell with warmth every time she said it.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” you said, pulling her into a gentle hug. “Now, go get ready. I’ll talk to your mom and make sure she’s okay with this.” Lila hugged you back tightly. “You’re the best, Mama. I’ll be quick, I promise!” As Lila dashed off to her room, you took a deep breath and prepared yourself for the conversation with Natasha. You knew it might take a little convincing, but you also knew that Natasha trusted your judgment. You found Natasha in the living room, still on the phone with Steve, but she ended the call when she saw you approaching.

“Everything alright?” she asked, immediately picking up on the fact that you had something on your mind. You nodded, sitting down beside her on the couch. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Lila just asked if she could go to the movies with some friends tonight.”

“Did she now? And I’m guessing she came to you instead of me because she thought I’d say no?” You smiled softly, reaching out to take Natasha’s hand. “You know our girl well. She’s eager to go, but she knows how strict you are about curfews and safety.” Natasha sighed, her gaze softening as she looked at you. “And what did you tell her?”

“I told her she could go, but only if she agreed to text us when she gets there and when she’s leaving, to be home by 10:30, and to call us if anything feels off. I know it’s important for her to have some freedom, especially after everything we’ve all been through.”

Natasha leaned back against the couch, her hand still holding yours. “You’re right. I just..I worry about her, you know? She’s at that age where she wants to push boundaries, and I don’t want her to get into any trouble.”

“I know.” you said gently, squeezing her hand. “But she’s a good kid, and she’s been through a lot. She needs to feel like we trust her, and this is a way to show her that we do. Plus, we’ve given her guidelines, and I believe she’ll stick to them.”

Natasha nodded slowly, her expression thoughtful. “You’re right. I do trust her, and I trust you. If you think this is okay, then I’ll support it.” You smiled, leaning in to kiss her softly on the lips. “Thank you, Nat. I know it’s not easy to loosen the reins, but I promise we’ll keep an eye on things.”

Natasha returned your smile, a hint of amusement in her eyes. “You’re really good at this, you know? Balancing everything.”

“I had a great partner to learn from..” you replied, resting your head on her shoulder. “We’re in this together, remember?” Natasha wrapped her arm around you, pulling you closer. “Always.” A few hours later, Lila was dressed and ready to go, her excitement barely contained as she came into the living room to say goodbye. She hugged you tightly, a big smile on her face. “Thanks again, Mama. I’ll text you both as soon as I get there.”

“Have fun!” you said, hugging her back. “And remember, be home by 10:30.”

“I will, I promise!” Lila assured you, before turning to Natasha. “Thanks, Mom. I know you’re just trying to keep me safe.” Natasha smiled, pulling Lila into a hug. “I am, but I also want you to have fun. Just be careful, okay?”

“I will.” Lila promised, and with that, she was out the door, practically skipping with excitement. As the door closed behind her, you and Natasha shared a look, both of you feeling a mix of pride and the inevitable worry that comes with letting your child out into the world.

“You did good.” Natasha said, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “You’re really good at this whole parenting thing.”

“So are you.” you replied, smiling at her. “We’re a team, remember?” Natasha nodded, resting her head against yours. “Yeah, we are.” As the evening progressed, you and Natasha spent some quiet time together, savoring the peace and quiet of the house. The kids were occupied with their activities, and for once, there was no pressing crisis to deal with. It was just the two of you, enjoying each other’s company and the knowledge that, no matter what, you had each other.

Around 9:30, Lila texted as promised, letting you both know that she was on her way home. You could sense Natasha’s relief, and you shared it, knowing that your daughter was safe and had had a good time with her friends. When Lila finally walked through the door at exactly 10:25, you couldn’t help but smile at her punctuality. She looked happy and content, and that was all that mattered to you.

“Did you have fun?” you asked as she kicked off her shoes and plopped down on the couch beside you.. “Yeah, it was great.” Lila replied, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Thanks again for letting me go.”

“You’re welcome.” you said, ruffling her hair affectionately. “I’m glad you had a good time.” Natasha came over and sat on Lila’s other side, pulling her into a hug. “We’re both glad, sweetheart. Just remember, you can always come to us with anything, okay?” Lila nodded, leaning into the embrace. “I will. I love you, Mom. I love you, Mama.”

“I love you too.” you and Natasha replied in unison, both of you smiling at the bond that had only grown stronger with time.

As the night settled in and the house grew quiet, you couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of contentment. Your family was safe, happy, and together, and that was all you could ever ask for. And in the weeks and months that followed, as the kids continued to grow and thrive, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you and Natasha would face them together, hand in hand, surrounded by the love of your children. The greatest gift you could ever have.

#natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov x reader #nat x reader #natasha romonova #the avengers #natasha #natasha romanoff x reader

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themeasureofasim · 3 months ago

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This is my weekly reminder that someone in Gaza may be able to get water, food or medicines if you can spare 5€. In light of recent events, Palestinian families need all the support they can get.

Aya & Abdullah / @ayaabedblog, @aya24abood: Aya's home was bombed a year ago, on October 10th, with her, her husband, and their 2-year old son Yazan inside. They lost everything, including their cat, Katie, who died during the attack. Yazan suffers from skin and respirtaroy diseases. Their fundraiser has been vetted by association multiple times and is extremely low on funds. €428/€50,000.

Layan Ramy / @layanramy: Layan is 12. She is immunocompromised and prone to lung infections. She has to undergo periodical operations due to several skeletal problems, and needs to evacuate from Gaza with her mother to get treatment as soon as the border reopens. Extremely low on funds. Vetted by @/gazavetters (#108) and @/gaza-evacuation-funds (#7). €482/€17,000.

Mahmoud & Abeer / @mah99moud: Abeer gave birth last April, during the war. Mahmoud and Abeer are trying to raise funds to survive and provide basic needs for their newborn, Abdullah. Vetted by @/gazzavetters (#232). €712/€15,000.

Munhata & Hamada / @montahafamily: Family of 11 trying to evacuate from Gaza. Vetted by @/gazzavetters (#80), also vetted by association. Muntaha is 25 and wants to get reunited with her husband, who is abroad. €1,851/€60,000.

Hind En / @hind3en: Hind and her children have evacuated to Egypt, but are now trying to get reunited with her husband, which is still working as a doctor in Gaza. They need funds to start over, as their house has been completely destroyed. This campaign is vetted by association. $2,229/$40,000.

Yahya Alhabil / @mervatahmed1. Yahya is a 20-year old student, Mervat is his mother. Their tent was broken during a storm and they're sleeping on the street. Yahya's father suffers from chronic diseases. Vetted by @/gaza-evacuation-funds, shared by @/90-ghost, and also vetted by association. €6,599/€50,000.

If you still don't know who to donate to, GazaFunds is your friend.

#free palestine #free gaza #save palestine #save gaza #palestine fundraiser #palestine gofundme #not sims

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almond-tofuuu · 1 year ago

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❄️Can't lose you❄️

Zayne x reader

Warnings: mentions of blood and injuries but nothing is detailed, a little (lot) of angst, happy ending tho (kind of)

Word count: 600

Zayne's familiarity with injuries ran deep, forged through years of serving as a doctor and navigating the horrors of a war zone. His resilience, honed over time, stemmed from his ability to maintain composure in the face of chaos, a trait that set him apart as an exceptional surgeon. Yet, as he stood before you, your body drenched in a pool of crimson, his usual calm facade crumbled.

The ER exuded an eerie tranquility that night, a stark departure from its usual bustling pace. Zayne couldn't shake the unease gnawing at him, amplified by your absence. It had become a routine, a cherished moment – your brief visits to his office on your way home, a shared tranquility interrupted only by the relentless summons of emergencies. Initially, he brushed off your delay, perhaps you'd been sent out to deal with a group of wanderers, or maybe you simply missed the train again, it wouldn't be the first time, but as time stretched on, apprehension crept in.

The shrill beep of his pager interrupted his thoughts, summoning him to yet another crisis in the ER. Suppressing his concerns, Zayne hastily navigated the labyrinth of corridors, mentally bracing himself for the unknown ahead. Yet, no amount of preparation could have steeled him for the chilling sight that awaited.

There you lay, motionless upon a stretcher, a crimson tide seeping through your shirt.

Zayne's world ground to a halt.

In that moment, a profound uncertainty gripped him, eclipsing the clarity of his usually sharp mind. Fear and panic coiled around him, suffocating his every thought, rendering him powerless in the face of the unthinkable.

The room pulsed with frantic activity as medical staff swarmed around your motionless form, their urgent voices blending into a disorienting noise. Zayne, usually the epitome of composure in the chaos of the emergency room, found himself frozen, his years of expertise rendered moot in the face of your battered figure. Amidst the chaos, a distant announcement pierced through, signaling the preparation of the operating room, but it was the firm grip on his shoulder that momentarily yanked Zayne from his spiralling thoughts.

Turning, he met Greyson's gaze, a silent understanding passing between them amidst the chaos.

"We're taking her to the OR straight away... You should return to your office. I'll update you as soon as there's any news," Greyson's words were a lifeline in the storm.

Unable to find his voice, Zayne simply nodded, watching in silence as they wheeled you away, his heart heavy with unspoken fears.

Alone in his office, Zayne paced with restless anguish, the image of you haunting his thoughts. He, who had never been one to seek solace in prayer, found himself pleading to unseen forces for your survival. Despite his unwavering trust in Greyson and the medical team, his mind betrayed him with a torrent of doubts.

What if the worst were to happen?

What if your injuries were too severe?

What if he never got the chance to gaze into your beautiful eyes again?

His fingers raked through his disheveled hair, a futile attempt to anchor himself amidst the dark thoughts consuming him, unwilling to confront the unbearable prospect of a world without you.

After what seemed like an eternity, a gentle rap echoed on his office door. Ignoring his own disheveled state, Zayne hurried to greet the visitor, his heart hammering in his chest as he swung the door open to reveal Greyson's fatigued figure. The weariness etched on Greyson's face spoke volumes of the arduous surgery.

"Is she..." Zayne started, his voice faltering as he couldn't bring himself to complete the question.

Greyson's reassuring touch on Zayne's shoulder brought a wave of relief, his gentle gaze offering solace as he delivered the long-awaited news. "She's okay, Zayne. Just breathe... she's alive."

With a shuddering exhale, Zayne released the tension he hadn't realized he'd been holding, his eyes brimming with tears of gratitude as he whispered a heartfelt "thank you" to Greyson.

Gathering his composure, Zayne met Greyson's gaze once more. "Where is she? I need to see her."

Understanding the urgency in Zayne's request, Greyson provided the room number, observing silently as Zayne bolted down the corridor, propelled by a mix of hope and desperation towards you.

Entering your room, Zayne is engulfed by a tempest of emotions. His heart wrenches at the sight of the resilient hunter he holds dear, now lying vulnerable in the hospital bed, yet an overwhelming sense of gratitude washes over him knowing you're still breathing. Drawing closer to your bedside, his eyes meticulously trace the remnants of your ordeal etched onto your skin—every scratch, bruise, and cut a testament to your resilience. Tenderly, one hand reaches out to cradle your cheek while the other gently clasps yours.

"...I thought I lost you..." Zayne's voice quivers with raw emotion, tears finally breaking free as he surrenders to the flood of relief and fear that had been bottled up inside.

Bowing his head, Zayne tenderly plants a lingering kiss on your forehead, his touch conveying both love and resolve. Pulling back slightly, he murmurs softly against your skin, his voice unwavering, brimming with determination.

"I swear, I will never let anything or anyone hurt you again.... You mean too much to me. I-" he pauses, gathering his thoughts. "I should've said it sooner, but I was too afraid... Now I realise that living in a world without you is far more terrifying.... You mean more to me than you could ever know.... Losing you, would be the equivalent to someone ripping my heart out of my chest.... And when you wake up, I'll make sure you know just how much I love you...."

#love and deepspace #zayne #zayne love and deepspace #zayne x reader #dr zayne

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rdr2gifs · 1 year ago

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Each time Arthur has helped someone without expecting payment (that I can remember) because I’ve seen some weird takes circling around about how Arthur only cares about money/doesn’t help people (yet again)

He helped a city photographer take pictures and acted as his protector because he liked him

He helped a doctor retrieve a stolen wagon full of medicine, he wasn’t even asked to do so, he did it out of his own good will

He wanted to make an old cranky man happy and proposed finding his lost trinkets for him

He helped Deborah MacGuiness find dinosaur bones out of curiosity. He didn’t receive any financial reward for it. Just a few trinkets and he was satisfied

He risked his life for Marko Dragic’s experiments (his main motivation in this mission was again, curiosity)

He rescued a boy being held hostage by the gunsmith in Rhodes

He rescued people from being trafficked and gave them a large sum of money (he could’ve kept it for himself) for a better life

He helped Mr. White and Mr. Black gain freedom and even helped them again after they got themselves into trouble

He rescued Charles Chatenay on at least 3 different occasions

He instantly hurried to retrieve Sister Calderon’s cross even though he has never met her before

In his first encounter with Marjorie and Bertram, he helps to calm Bertram down and is understanding even though Bertram gave him trouble. He even puts the bartender in his place after he speaks about Bertram in a degrading manner

He agreed to help a man get rid of nigh folk occupying his property and after he payed him with only a rat pelt, Arthur didn’t get angry and still asked him if he’d be really fine on his own after knowing he wouldn’t be able to pay

He let a homeless man hug him and listened to what he has to say

He helped to save Jamie from becoming a cult member and stopped him from taking his life

He helped a boy look for his lost dog

He saved an injured man’s life after driving him to a doctor

He helped a woman get rid of a body after she claimed she had to kill the man in self-defence

He donated to the poor and even to build a shelter for war-veterans

He taught Charlotte how to survive on her own

He tried to save a crazed village out of his own good will

He helped a war veteran retrieve his prosthetic leg and helped him hunt

He helped a man look for his lost friend in the snowy mountains

He helped Rain’s Fall retrieve sacred items important to his people

He helped to retrieve stolen medical supplies for the Wapiti tripe

He saved Captain Monroe’s life after hearing he was in danger

He helped Beau and Penelope escape from their terrible families

He has saved many hunters from getting mauled, given many ladies a ride home, saved people from dying of poisoning, helped gather herbs, helped a lost New Yorker find his way to the town, helped save many people’s lives (lady being held hostage in her own house in Lemoyne, folk getting tortured by The Murfees or Lemoyne Raiders etc.)

Let’s not forget the fact that Arthur is a provider for over 20 people. He cannot be running around and risking his life for free for everyone he meets. He needs money. Even so, he has helped all the people above for no reward and out of his own free will. When I see someone say that Arthur is only motivated by money and never helps people otherwise, I just instantly assume they stormed through the story and didn’t pay any attention. The encounters listed above make up the majority of chance encounters/side quests and in almost all of them he is helping people. 80% of these are also pre-diagnosis.

He has a hard time accepting any compliments or gratitude for his good deeds and always downplays himself. Even in the main story he is never thinking about himself and he always puts others first.

“You did not ask for anything, you only gave”

The encounters where he does require payment pale in comparison to those in which he doesn’t, and even so they are very justified as they are often dangerous, time consuming or straight up ridiculous. It’s weird to assume Arthur only helps people for money when he doesn’t want to deliver love letters, interview dangerous people and sneak into heavily guarded properties for free.

#writing this so I don’t get brainwashed in the future by people #claiming Arthur’s indifferent to everyone and everything unless they give him money #obviously this is based on high-honor #obviously Arthur has done terrible things in his life but I feel like majority of players just straight up ignore this??#I know I mentioned this many times already but I am forever annoyed by people saying Arthur only started helping people after getting sick #arthur morgan #text post #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2

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makethemhoesmad · 5 months ago

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for the most part

paige b x reader

—

you never really love someone until you can’t , is what paige thinks after you’ve stormed out of her apartment, screaming at her that she never cared, that you understand that she needs to “focus on basketball,” but you’ve heard that bullshit excuse about a billion times over and it isn’t working for a billion and one.

you never really worry unless you need to, is the thought that runs through paige’s mind when she gets a call, and someone from the hospital starts talking. paige is holding the arm of the couch, leaving fingernail marks in it while a paramedic explains that you got into a car crash, and she told them to “call paige” before she passed out, blood loss. blood loss blood lossbloodlossloss

you don’t speed, unless you have to. paige is flying down the road to get to the hospital, get there in time. because there might not be enough time

and she can’t help but think it’s her fault, because she knows you’re reckless when you’re angry. she knows, she knows she should have grabbed your wrist and begged before it was too late it’s not too late yet

you always know what to say until you don’t have time you’re listening, or paige thinks you’re listening. you’re staring at the ceiling, body stuck looking up while you wait to be wheeled into life-saving surgery. yes, wait, for life saving surgery. but as she talks, tells you that it’s gonna be alright, she loves you, she’ll see you when you’re done, she thinks you squeeze her hand, just a little

it’s hard not to feel hopeless when there’s no hope the doctor comes out, face neutral. “it’s 70/30,” she starts, watching paige’s face fall and drain of color. “30 percent chance says she pulls through. she’s strong, that’s for sure. but, her injuries were intensive. 70 percent says she’ll pass tonight. if she makes it to the morning, her survival percentage goes up.” paige thanks to doctor, and nods at the nurse’s offer to add a cot to your room. then, she goes to the little single bathroom in the corner and lets out one sob. how dare they talk about you in statistics like you’re not a living, breathing, loving girl.

wake up she’s the only one awake when it happens. she hears the heart monitor, it’s steady beeping the only thing that lulled her to sleep, knowing your heart was still holding out. but then it stopped beeping for a second too long. then two seconds, then three. then it stopped for so many seconds she stood up and rushed over to you, trying to feel your breath fanning onto her face. she hears a series of quick, erratic beeps, and then the long, you-only-hear-it-in-movies sound of a heart monitor flatlining. in that moment everything stops.

you never really miss someone until they’re gone

paige will relive that moment over and over for the rest of her life, but she will never be able to fully recall what she felt right after. maybe it’s the brain’s way of helping, dulling those memories so you don’t have to live them again and again, for the most part

for the most part became paige’s anthem

she’s okay, for the most part

she can move on, love someone else, for the most part

she can be happy when she wins the 2025 natty, for the most part

maybe not that last one, actually, because maybe if she hadn’t had to focus on basketball so much to win it, you’d have been there to celebrate next to her

#paige bueckers #mutuals💀#uconn wbb #paige bueckers x reader #angst #sorry #i couldn’t not #im feeling emo

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lowkeyerror · 10 months ago

Text

The Family Business Ch.13

WandaNat x Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Ch. Notes: short

Summary: Fisk gains a new unexpected ally that deeply affects a member of the family.

An: Short filler Ch. but with a warning. Sorry for the mistakes, just wanted to get something out for yall. Also fear not, we will be getting the very essential "date" chapter soon, but first some world building yknow.

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

With the way life had been treating you lately, the ups and downs, you felt as though this should be harder. You felt like there was a funk or depression that should be settling into your mind, but there wasn’t. There should’ve been anxiety building up, but all you felt was calm.

After the beating you suffered you thought you’d be more on edge. However as your body healed itself, you found yourself at ease. There was something smug about your survival. Perhaps it had to do with the blossoming relationship that you had been reveling in.

Throughout the years you had prided yourself on changing and morphing into someone with a tough exterior and an even stronger interior. While you never regretted becoming that way, you admit that in it you lost some of your personality.

You were so much more than a victim of the abuse you had suffered at the hands of your mother. As you grew, after separating yourself from her you were set on not ever being a victim again that you hid everything that you thought made you vulnerable.

Your likes and leisurely activities all of sudden seemed like weak points. The only one who was able to make you let your guard down was Pietro.

Now however, having Wanda and Natasha by your side, you find yourself on a path of rediscovery. You feel like you’re coming into yourself again. The women are the perfect models of work life balance and you think it’s everything you’ve been missing.

The can go into the office work diligently and complete their jobs, but also clock out and relax. The enjoy themselves and they enjoy you.

Wanda personally loves seeing you open up a bit more, after seeing how much of yourself you pushed down. Natasha finds herself collecting bits and pieces of information about you that she plans to commit to memory.

In the very back of your mind you think about how quiet the streets have been. You expected Fisk to brag about your beating just like he did with Dragos. However there had been no commotion, and the intel that you were getting didn’t indicate any attacks soon.

It was eerie and you would've dwelled on it in the past, but Natasha and Wanda reassured you that everything was under control. Natasha constantly let you go over her team strategies to show you she was utilizing the soldiers given to her.

They tried to keep you out of the office for your recovery, but you just found yourself working from home until your ankle was healed. As soon as you were able, you stepped back into the office.

While you had made nearly a full recovery, you could not say the same for Dragos. It pained you hear that doctors have reported a stagnation in his progress. Flora relied that certain doctors were starting to suggest pulling the plug as a feasible option. The entire family was adamant to oppose any talk of such actions.

“Baby?”

Your eyes leave your compute to see Wanda and Natasha entering your office.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?”

Natasha speaks, “We were wondering if you wanted to grab dinner tonight?”

You nod, “For sure.”

Wanda clarifies a bit, “Like a date, Y/n.”

Your eyes widen a bit, but you nod excitedly at the prospect, “Even better, of course.

“We’ll go home, get ready and go from there?” Nat suggests.

“Can’t wait,” a small smile plays on your lips.

Everything about this has felt casual and you love that, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t want to have the typical romantic experiences. This would amongst the first few dates you three had gone on.

Pietro storms into the office breaking up the relaxed atmosphere they had been sitting in. The man looks like he is complete emotional distress.

“I need to talk to Y/n.”

His sister wants to question him, but with one shake of your head she pulls her wife out of the office.

“What’s wrong, Piet?”

He doesn’t hold it together much longer as he signals he needs a hug. You stand up quickly and wrap your arms around him. You feel his tears hit his shoulder and admittedly, your worry multiplies.

“Monica,” he says in his broken tone.

You rub his back soothingly, “What about her?”

He pulls away, “ Two months we lasted, Y/n. I had asked her to be official she said yes, but she’s ended things with me.”

“Oh Piet.”

He shakes his head, “It’s worse than that. She indebted to Fisk, Y/n. She owes him money and favors, she never told me because he’s never come to collect. But now, he’s cashing in.”

You frown deeply, “So she’s protecting you.”

“I need to be protecting her,” he grits his teeth.

You feel for your friend, you don’t believe you have the right words to bring him comfort, “ But you don’t know how.”

Pietro has a new fire in his eyes, “With a bullet in his skull. He’s tried to take everything from me. Papa, you, and now the love of my life.”

You knew the man could be hotheaded at times, and for once you knew he had every right to be. Yet, you couldn’t justify him doing something irrational.

“When the time comes, he will be dealt with,” you say.

Pietro shakes his head, “Nothings happened since your attack, everything is settling. This war will drag on and on if we let it."

“We can’t tear apart the city for no reason, Piet. It’s a bad look from us,” you try to reason with him.

“I know that, but it’s not what I want to hear.”

He slumps down on your office couch with his head in his hands. You sit next to him and rub his shoulder.

“How about we do something tonight, like old times? Something so that we can feel normal for once,” you suggest.

“I can’t even text her because what if she becomes a pawn in this scheme,” he sighs.

“ We’re hanging out tonight. To take your mind off of this, even if it’s only for a moment,” you speak sincerely to him.

He nods slowly in agreement, “Fine, but only because I don’t want to be alone and maybe I’ve missed you. Wanda too, I miss when timed were simpler.”

You get a little excited, “Tonight, me, you, Wanda, Natasha we can do something together. It’ll be reminiscent of old times.”

Pietro agrees and you let him stay in the office as you work. You texted Wanda and Natasha filling them on the details. They were understanding about having to cancel your plans. Natasha also took note of Monica as one of Fisk’s new allies.

The three of you brainstorm to come up with some plans to help your friend for the time being. The night still had promise and none of you wanted to waste it.

Unfortunately for you all, the air was about become ten times more suffocating and no one would see it coming.

Fisk knew you all would become complacent sooner or later, drop you guards prematurely. He was watching unfold and getting ready to strike again, however this time, he planned for the kill shot.

Taglist: @natashaswife4125 @autorasexy @alexawynters @blkmxrvel @toouncreativeforausername @likemick @sgm616 @bstvst @dorabledewdroop @sapphic-simp4015 @natty-taffy @justarandomreaderxoxo @mmmmokdok @tarathia @bgwlsmahf25 @lezzylover @og-kxsh-420 @vanessashands @untoldreader @sxlfishbrokenheart @marvelgirlx @elle161989

#lowkeyerror #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagine #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #wandanat x reader #pietro maximoff

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rainandandy · 6 months ago

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Hiii, could you do a rain carradine x reader fic where they both survived the events of romulus and are safely brought to yvaga but yn is badly injured so she was in a coma and rain had to wait for her to wake up?

Warnings: Grief, Coma description, mentions of blood,

Word Count: 1883

Pairings: Rain Carradine x Fem!Reader

The cryopod’s hiss was the first sound that Rain heard as her consciousness slowly returned. Her limbs felt stiff, her mind foggy from the long sleep. As her senses sharpened, panic knotted her stomach— she remembered the dire circumstances they had left behind. The urgency to check on you and Andy propelled her from the pod. Rain’s heart pounded as she rushed to your side, her boots clanging against the metal floor of the Corbelan.

You were still unconscious, the dried blood on your forehead a stark contrast to your pale skin. Rain’s hands trembled as she traced the line of your jaw, whispering your name softly, her voice a fragile thread in the quiet of the medical bay. "Please, wake up," she murmured, each word laden with desperation. But you remained motionless, the steady beep of the heart monitors the only response in the sterile room.

After ensuring you were as comfortable as possible Rain then turned her attention to Andy, who was beginning to stir in his own cryopod. She quickly moved to his side, her movements practiced and efficient as she initiated the sequence to reset his chip. The familiar whir of circuits reactivating filled the air, a sound that brought a small measure of relief to Rain.

Andy’s optical sensors flickered to life, and he immediately fixated on Rain. "Is she okay?" he asked, his voice carrying an electronic tinge of concern.

Rain shook her head, fighting back a fresh wave of tears. "No, not yet, Andy. She’s still not awake." Her voice cracked on the last word, betraying her fear.

Andy sat up, scanning the medical equipment readings with rapid precision. "Systems analysis suggests significant trauma. Probability of recovery uncertain without further medical assessment," he reported, though his words were careful, calculated to avoid causing Rain more distress.

Rain nodded, absorbing his words with a heavy heart. "Just stay with me, Andy. Help me land us safely”

As Rain steered the Corbelan ship toward Yvaga, her focus was laser-sharp, every adjustment to the controls calculated and precise despite the emotional storm raging within her. The verdant hues of Yvaga loomed larger and brighter through the viewport, a stark contrast to the bleakness that had preceded this moment.

"We're almost there," Rain said softly, more to herself than to Andy, who was monitoring the ship's systems next to her.

Andy, always sensitive to her mood, replied, "It'll be okay, Rain. You've gotten us this far."

"I just need to know she'll be alright," Rain whispered, her voice carrying a weight that the vastness of space around them seemed to absorb.

As soon as the ship touched down on Yvaga's surface, Rain was a blur of motion, barely waiting for the landing sequence to complete before she was unbuckling and rushing toward the hatch. The ramp hadn’t fully deployed when she started shouting for help.

"Medical team! I need a medical team here now!" Her voice, usually so composed, cracked with urgency.

When the medical team finally burst through the ship's doors, their uniforms a blur of efficiency and urgency, Rain stepped back, allowing them to take charge. She watched with a mixture of fear and determination as they assessed your condition, their expressions giving away little as they worked swiftly and silently.

"Heart rate stable, but unresponsive," one of the doctors murmured, their voice a backdrop to the whirring of machines and the soft beeps of monitors. Another voice chimed in with medical jargon that Rain strained to understand, her gaze flickering between you and the medical staff.

"Will she be okay?" Rain finally managed to choke out the question that had been gnawing at her since they left Jackson's Star. Her voice was barely above a whisper, but the doctors seemed to hear her nonetheless.

"We're doing everything we can," one of them replied gently, their eyes meeting Rain's with a mixture of sympathy and professionalism. "She's stable for now. We'll keep you updated."

Relocated to the stark, white room of Yvaga customs, Rain's heart continued to pound, now out of sync with the buzzing fluorescents overhead. Officials moved her from station to station, conducting thorough scans and taking samples, ensuring she carried no pathogens that could threaten their pristine colony. Despite their politeness, their masked faces remained impassive, heightening Rain's sense of isolation and worry.

"And what about the synthetic?" one official inquired, glancing over a digital clipboard as he scrutinized Andy, who stood beside Rain, his usual stoic self.

"He's my brother," Rain asserted, her voice firm despite the undercurrent of fear that he might be taken from her. "I know your laws about synthetics..."

The officer looked up, a slight frown creasing his brow, then relaxed. "Miss, that regulation has been repealed years ago. Your... brother is welcome to stay as long as he abides by our rules, just like any other resident."

Relief washed over Rain, brief but profound, and she squeezed Andy's hand, smiling at him. "Did you hear that? You’re staying." Her voice wavered with emotion, a stark contrast to her usual composure.

Andy nodded, a flicker of what might have been relief passing through his eyes. "I am pleased to remain by your side, Rain."

But as the customs official handed her back her documents, including a new ID card for her life on Yvaga, Rain's thoughts were already racing back to you, lying in the medical bay, your condition unknown. "Thank you," she muttered distractedly, barely hearing the officer’s instructions on local guidelines and curfew times.

With every step towards the medical facility, her pace quickened, driven by a mix of dread and urgency. Upon arrival, she was met by a cool blast of air and the antiseptic smell of the hospital that did nothing to ease her nerves.

"I’m here to see my girlfriend," she told the receptionist, her voice steady but her hands clasped tightly in front of her.

The receptionist typed something into a computer, then looked up with a neutral expression. "You may go in, but please prepare yourself. She hasn’t regained consciousness yet."

Rain’s breath hitched, her feet carrying her down the fluorescent-lit hallway to the room where you lay. The door swung open quietly, and there you were, just as she’d left you, surrounded by beeping machines and IV lines, your breathing steady but unnatural.

She pulled up a chair beside your bed, her hand finding yours, cold and still. "Hey, it’s me," she whispered, her voice cracking as she spoke. "I need you to wake up, okay? Andy’s safe. We’re both here... waiting for you."

Hours turned into days, with Rain talking to you about everything and nothing—her hopes for their new life on Yvaga, the garden she imagined they might cultivate, the quiet evenings they could spend watching Yvaga’s twin suns set. Occasionally, she'd be silent, just watching your chest rise and fall, each breath a small reassurance that you were still with her.

One particularly quiet night, Rain leaned close, her whisper barely audible. "You have to come back to me," she said, her tone a mix of plea and command. "Remember all those plans we made? I can’t do this without you. I can’t lose anyone else."

She stayed there, her head resting beside your hand on the bed, her tears not quite spilling over but close. The weight of everything they’d been through, everything they’d lost and hoped to gain, pressed down on her.

"Please," she murmured as she felt the first tear escape, tracing a warm path down her cold cheek. "I need you. We’re supposed to start over here. Together."

The sterile hum of the medical bay was punctuated by the quiet beep of machines, a constant backdrop to Rain's vigil by your side. It was during one of these long nights, her head resting close to yours, her whispered stories floating through the dimly lit room, that a change occurred. A subtle shift in the rhythm of your breathing, a small furrow in your brow—signs of emerging consciousness that Rain almost didn't dare to hope for.

After what felt like an eternity immersed in silence and darkness, you finally sensed the veil of unconsciousness lifting. Your eyelids fluttered open, meeting the stark brightness of the medical bay on Yvaga. Disoriented, you turned your head slightly, finding Rain's face close to yours, her eyes wide with a mixture of shock and relief.

Your eyelids fluttered, a slow, uncertain movement, and then opened. Rain, who had been lost in her thoughts, looked up sharply, her heart skipping a beat. "Baby?" she said softly, her voice a mix of hope and disbelief.

You blinked slowly, disoriented, the shapes and shadows of the room coalescing into forms you recognized but couldn't quite place. "Rain?" Your voice was hoarse, barely a whisper, and you struggled to sit up, confusion written across your face.

"It's okay, take it slow," Rain soothed, her hands gentle on your shoulders, helping you adjust. "You're safe now. We're on Yvaga."

The name didn't mean much to you yet, not with your mind still grappling with the fog of long sleep and recovery. You looked around, trying to piece together the last fragments of memory—flashes of danger, of fear, of desperate actions. "What happened? The others—Kay, Tyler, Bjorn, Navarro... what happened to them?"

Rain's face fell, her eyes dimming with a grief she had held at bay. Taking a deep breath, she reached for your hand, squeezing it tightly. "There was an incident on the ship... there were these creatures" Her voice trembled, and she paused, gathering the strength to continue. "I managed to get you and Andy into cryopods. I... I dealt with it, but..." She swallowed hard, her other hand wiping away silent tears that began to stream down her face.

"The others weren't so lucky," she finished softly, the weight of the loss pressing down on her anew.

Your heart ached, both from your own physical weakness and the pain of the news. You remembered now—the fear, the chaos, the desperate rush to escape. And through it all, Rain, always protecting, always fighting. "You saved us," you whispered, your voice filled with a mix of sorrow for the lost and gratitude for the safety of those who remained.

Rain nodded, more tears falling as she tried to smile through them. "I did what I had to do. I couldn’t let anything happen to you or Andy." She took a shaky breath, trying to compose herself. "We're going to start over here, on Yvaga. Make it count, for them."

As you processed her words, the reality of your new beginning on this strange new world without some of your closest friends, you felt a profound sense of loss but also a deep, resolute determination. Rain was here, Andy was safe, and you were still together. In that, at least, there was some comfort.

"I'm glad you're here," you told her, squeezing her hand in return. "We'll make it count."

Rain nodded, a solemn promise shared between you two. As she settled back into the chair beside your bed, her vigilance unwavering, you knew that whatever challenges Yvaga might hold, you would face them together.

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studentinpursuitofclouds · 22 days ago

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Hi hi! I came across your blog thanks to the kidnapping HCs and I must say I love your HCs!

If you don't mind me asking for some HCs... how would the vanilla game bachelor/ettes react when they find/learn that Farmer (they/them) is close to death's door in the mines after a bad argument with them (basically, the spouse and Farmer got into an argument (could be anything really!), and Farmer stormed out and went to the mines to blow off steam)? Farmer gets better of course, with some possible hurt/comfort please? 👀

Angst with comfort, yay! :D

Sure thing, thank you for your ask and have a great day! 🫰💕

_________________________________________

Penny sobbed the whole time by Farmer's hospital bed, where her spouse lay in bandages. The young teacher tearfully apologised, promising that she would no longer react so much to her spouse's gift of a mead bottle to her mother Pam. A huge torrent of words, which Farmer stopped by quietly saying that they were the ones who should apologise, for not thinking how Penny would react to such a gift to her mother, given her past with alcohol, and that they were a complete idiot for going into the Mines unarmed out of anger. After Farmer recovered from their wounds, Penny was afraid to broach the subject again until her spouse sat her down for a talk themself and, apologising again, resolved all concerns.

Despite his best efforts to remain calm and composed, Alex's courage cracked as he waited nervously outside the Clinic for the end of the surgery and the doctor's verdict. No matter how his grandparents and friends tried to reassure him, the athlete was nervous. It was all his fault, wasn't it? His lover wouldn't have gone off angry into those stupid Mines if he hadn't been such a stubborn ass. And Harvey didn't immediately answer if Farmer was going to be okay... Alex grabs his head and freaks out at the thought of the worst outcome. But luckily, Farmer survived and is on the mend already, and when the doctor and his assistant leave the room, leaving the couple alone, Alex falls to his knees and whimpers quietly, begging for forgiveness until Farmer's weak voice replies that it was their own fault and begs him to forgive them.

"Fucking- go wherever you want, I don't care!" Those words, those last words that Shane had thrown to Farmer in a fit of anger, echoed in his head as he ran towards the Mines, stumbling with exhaustion. Damn, what a fucking idiot he was... So many arguments, Farmer's tears on their cheeks as they left... Shane knew where his spouse had gone at this late hour and wanted to apologise for being such an ass. And saw them lying on the ground in the Mines... with Marlon standing beside them. "Get Harvey quickly, the kid needs help." Farmer had nearly died.... As Shane stood outside the clinic, recalling the last words he had said to his lover... He wouldn't forgive himself for that for a long time.

"What? Just like that?! Are you serious right now?" Leah's can't believe it: her partner just walked out, slamming the front door loudly. Went to Mines in the middle of the night, great... like a child, for Yoba's sake! And they've been there for over four hours. The artist is determined to bring them back home and solve their argument. Just when she was near the clinic, she saw Harvey and Marlon dragging her spouse's limp body to the building. "We found them in the Mines." All anger was gone in a flash, replaced by anxiety. Farmer's wounds were healing quickly, but Leah kept quietly calling them a fool, not leaving their room and holding their bandaged hand gently, trying not to cry.

Elliott refused to leave the clinic and sat next to Farmer's bed or in the lobby. Until Harvey or Maru gently send the writer, who has been without sleep for days, back home, promising that Farmer will be fine. He believes their words, but doesn't want to leave his lover. After being informed that Farmer was on the brink of life and death. After Elliott let Farmer walk away, heated over a stupid argument that is not worth anything now, in the dangerous Mines. He waited and watched Farmer go on the mend. He apologised to them a thousand times, and hugged his spouse tightly as they began to apologise to the writer for the dumb act that had nearly cost them their life and left a scar on Elliott's heart.

A loud, rumbling sound came from the cave in the Mines, and it made Abigail's heart freeze with terror. "Farmer!" Just a moment ago, standing not far from the Guild, she had been angrily cursing their over-cautiousness in not allowing her to join the adventure without proper protection. And now the purple-haired girl was hurrying back to the Mines, where Farmer, also heated from the argument, had left... forgetting to take their elixirs from wife. Abby found her partner covered in blood, barely crawling and ready to let out their last breath. With tears, she hastily pulled out a pink bottle and brought it to Farmer's lips so they could drink the elixir. The wounds began to heal slowly, thank Yoba, and Abigail sat on the cold ground, stroking the hair on her lover's head as they apologised to each other.

Farmer, lying on the cold ground, all covered with mud and their own blood, was already unconscious and did not hear Haley's scream, who caught her spouse near the Mines in such a state. Nor did they hear Marlon's voice as the old adventurer tried to soothe the sobbing girl and call Gil for help. Nor did they see her walking beside them all and shining a light on the two adventurers as they both dragged Farmer's body to the clinic. Nor heard poor Haley sobbing outside their room where she sat hiding her face in her hands and mouthed "this stupid argument, it was my fault, I'm sorry" over and over again. But Farmer did hear her joyful voice, and saw tears of happiness when she noticed that her spouse had finally opened their eyes after a week of coma.

Sebastian is smoking his third cigar, standing not far from the entrance to the clinic. A bad habit, he knows, but he needs some way to calm down while his half-sister Maru and Dr. Harvey perform emergency surgery on Farmer. The last conversation he had with Farmer echoed in his head: a small disagreement turned into shouting and they left. Left to cool off in Mines, then he found them, and... Sebastian smoked nervously, and begged Harvey and Maru to save his lover. Thankfully, the emo's pleas were answered and Farmer is fine. Although Harvey and Maru didn't let Sebby into the room (due to the smell of smoke), but relayed Farmer's words that they were apologising to Sebastian, causing him to nearly cry right there on the spot.

Almost every half hour Maru would step away from her counter into Farmer's room, inspecting their wounds, checking the medical devices they were hooked up to and asking if they needed anything. So throughout the week, almost forgetting everything in the world, including basic needs like eating and sleeping, she monitored her spouse's health, giving reports to Harvey and listening carefully to his verdict. To every attempt of Farmer to apologise to their wife for such a stupid act in anger, to go to the Mines over their recent quarrel, Maru gently hushed them and asked them to put this conversation aside for later, what mattered to her now was their health.

It's been three hours and Farmer hasn't returned Harvey's calls. The doctor must have made over 50 calls already, but no response from his spouse. Worse, Farmer went to the place that was the cause of the couple's recent heated argument - Mines, where they were constantly getting injured, which made Harvey worried for their life. Finally, at 51 rings, the mobile phone receiver was picked up.... But it wasn't Farmer's voice. "This is Marlon. Farmer-" He didn't hear anything further, and just on automatic, grabbed the first aid kit and bullet-rushed out of the hospital building towards the Mines. He performed the operation RIGHT THERE, for time was short, keeping his composure. By the time everyone calmed down and Farmer woke up in his clinic, Harvey's glasses would be wet with tears. He could have lost them...

It wasn't supposed to happen... Just a day ago, Emily and Farmer always found a solution to problems and arguments, there was always harmony and mutual understanding in the house, and now.... Now she sits at home, sad, and Farmer, overwhelmed with negative emotions, has gone somewhere. The heart of the blue-haired girl felt that it wasn't right for her to let Farmer go, and a call on the phone from Harvey in the middle of the night confirmed her fears. She was frightened and felt helpless when she saw the condition in which her beloved spouse had been brought to the operating table. Emily had asked Gus for a week and was staying with Farmer, who had woken up after a successful operation. They would live in harmony again, but the incident would forever be etched in Emily's memories.

"Hey, come on babe, just a little bit more and we've already made it to the clinic..." Considering that Farmer was unable to even stand, let alone respond to Sam's words, the musician was more saying it to himself, trying not to panic. "Our dear uncle doctor Harvey will patch you up in one moment and everything will be super-duper!" Though he tried to sound optimistic, his voice gave a shiver. "Everything's going to be great." Why did he have to be so stubborn? Why did he have to argue with Farmer to the point where they left the house to go to the stupid Mines? "Farmer, please... H- hang in there, we're almost there..." Sammy would be with Farmer every day at the clinic, never taking a step away from his spouse.

#stardew valley #sdv #sdv penny #sdv abigail #sdv maru #sdv emily #sdv haley #sdv leah #sdv shane #sdv harvey #sdv sebastian #sdv sam #sdv alex #sdv elliott #sdv headcanons #thanks for the ask!

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kimi240302 · 1 year ago

Text

Come back to me Part 1

A/N: Before you read this, I want you to know that my native language is different. So I am very sorry for any mistake. Nevertheless, I hope you will like my story and enjoy it.

Summary: The love story between Alec Volturi and Y/N Swan, was an unexpected one. Both didn't know what to make of each other when they found out they were soul mates. But they worked on it and created a beautiful strong love that not even Bella's hatred for the Volturi could destroy. But as in any good love story, tragedy was impossible to avoid in theirs. It came as unexpectedly as their love itself, and made the Cullens and Bella seem to win, while Alec and the Volturi were losing their light in the darkness.

Alec Volturi x Swan!Female!reader

Main Post / Twilight Masterlist/ Come back to me Masterlist

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"I had all and then most of you Some and now none of you Take me back to the night me met I dont know what I´m supposed to do Haunted by the ghost of you"- Lord Huron/ The Night We Met

Helplessness or powerlessness

Alec didn't know exactly which feeling had been eating away at his insides every day for the past two months, or was it perhaps both? Ever since he'd gotten the call from the Cullen Doctor that the woman he loved more than anything in the world was on the verge of death, Alec had felt like he was in a freefall into darkness. He was not present and yet not absent enough to be able to shut off his emotions from the pain he felt all the time.

Lost in thought, he looked down at his mate and ran soothing motions over her hand that lay in his. Y/N was still lying in the hospital bed in the hospital room in the city that Alec Volturi had learned to hate even more in the last two months than he had hated it before, Forks.

He had not been told exactly what had happened to her, because no one knew for sure how Y/N had left the road with her car and ended up in the lake. There was no storm that evening, no wet or slippery roads or anything else that could have caused the accident. The rest of the facts were also just speculation. Y/N had managed to get out of her car, but the temperature of the water was too cold for her to have the strength to swim to the surface afterwards. She had lost consciousness and only survived by pure luck. This lucky charm was called Jacob Black. He and the other wolves had heard the crash and had run as fast as they could to the lake.

"I always thought that our twentieth birthday would be the only bad memory that would burn itself into my brain and never want to leave." Alec looked away from his sister and ran both hands over his face. He felt something he hadn't felt in several centuries, tiredness. The vampire would love nothing more than to lie down next to his mate, close his eyes and simply sleep away Y/N's absence. But he had long since lost this ability, something he had never regretted until this moment.

Jane, who was standing at the window, looked at her brother in shock. It was the first time she had heard him speak since Y/N's accident, she had come back to check on him every now and then and had never been able to get more than single words out of him. The second thing that shocked her was that she and her brother had never spoken about what had happened, not since they had both turned. Jane sat down in the chair next to Alec and looked at him searchingly. "I'll be honest with you, brother, I've forgotten exactly what happened. Either it was too long ago or my memories are trying to protect me." Alec turned to his sister in surprise. "Really? My memories want to torture me, in this case, I guess. I remember every little detail."

He fell silent for a few moments, turned his gaze away from Jane and looked through the window at the cloudy sky. He had to grin slightly. He hated this town and yet its weather seemed to know exactly how the vampire felt at that moment.

Alec noticed how his sister's gaze seemed to bore deeper into his side profile with every passing second of his silence. His gaze lingered stubbornly outward as he continued. "I remember how you, me and mother were eating dinner when the villagers kicked down our door. I remember them chasing us through the forest with flaming torches and insults. I remember how we were captured and dragged to the dock on the shore. How we were tied to a stake on a pyre and insulted further. I remember mom trying to get to us and fighting against the people holding her. I remember how she broke free. How they grabbed her just before the stake and pushed her to the ground. I remember how she was kicked by the people she had known since childhood. I remember her choking on her own blood." Alec turned his head back to Jane. "But you know what the worst memory from that day is?" The blond vampire shook his head. "The flames. I remember the pain and the smell of our skin burning off piece by piece."

There was an intense silence between the two siblings for a few moments.

"Since when do you remember every detail?" Jane's voice had changed to a soft tone that she only used with her brother and Y/N. Alec's eyes drifted to his mate, reflecting the pain of the last few weeks. "Since the day I saw her lying here like that. Since then, I can't get it out of my head that fate always manages to sweeten my life, only to ruin it afterwards." The black-haired vampire jumped up and walked over to the window. "Alec, Y/N is alive. Carlisle…" "The Cullen doctor, doesn't know if she's waking up. He doesn't even know if she'll ever be able to breathe on her own again without that machine." Alec ran his fingers through his hair again.

His gaze wandered to the machine that displayed Y/N's vital signs and beeped along with her heartbeat. He looked at the machine, from which a tube led into his mate's throat. Alec knew that if it wasn't for that tube, his lover wouldn't even be breathing. The vampire took a closer look at Y/N. Alec swallowed, because there was hardly anything left of the girl from two months ago. Her skin was white and stretched against her body so tightly that you could see every single bone. Her cheeks were sunken and black spots had formed under her eyes. Her hair looked dull as it had lost its shine.

"I should have kept her in Volterra and bitten her the first time we met. Then she wouldn't have had the idea to come back here." Jane stood up instantly and stood in front of her brother, drawing his gaze from his mate. She put her hands to her brother's cheek and looked deep into his eyes.

"Alec, if you had kept her in Volterra the day she was dragged into our world without any preparation and turned her against her wishes, do you really think Y/N would have fallen in love with you? Do you think she wouldn't have listened to the Cullens and seen you for the monster you are to that clan? She would have hated you for the rest of your immortal lives. You would never have been able to reach her." Sadly, Jane turned her gaze to Y/N and back to her brother. "If she doesn't survive this, which I hope she doesn't, at least you had a time together with her that you would want to remember. Y/N loved you and always will. Hold on to that Alec, I beg you not to lose hope now."

Alec let his head grow heavier in his sister's hands. "What if I bite her now…. Maybe I can end this nightmare." Alec lifted his head stepped away from his sister and began his pacing. "I should never have let her go to Forks. The Cullens and her sister don't care about her safety like me, you, or the rest of the Volturi!" His eyes wandered helplessly back and forth between his sister's face and the lifeless-looking body of his mate. The feeling of powerlessness spread through him again, drilling into his bones like a disease.

Jane shook her head. "Carlisle said that our poison might just kill her faster and you couldn't stop her from coming to Forks. After all, she wanted to say goodbye to her father. You know she wouldn't have been able to see her father after her transformation." "Then I should have gone with her…" "Alec, you can't undo what happened. So stop blaming yourself." "I can't lose her Jane, I can lose anyone but her." Jane nodded knowingly. "I know Alec." She whispered. Alec stopped and accepted his twin's embrace. He tightened his hands in her top and lowered his head into the crook of her neck.

They were both there when their master Marcus lost his mate and how he was broken by it. They also saw how he suffered every day. Jane didn't want her brother to suffer the same fate. That's why she had taken the message that Y/N wanted to be turned very well. That way, the young girl would be out of the danger of being human. But ever since the call had arrived in Volterra saying that Y/N was on the brink of death, the thought that Alec could end up like Marcus was a shadow of every action the siblings had taken. Jane couldn't lose her brother and even if the blonde vampire didn't want to admit it, the same was true for Y/N. For the young girl had burned herself into her cold, non-beating heart. Jane also knew that it wasn't just her, but every single vampire who lived in Volterra.

Y/N had earned the nickname "The Sunshine of the Volturi". Because no matter how many prejudices the Cullens and her sister had tried to put into Y/N to turn her against the Volturi. The young woman had created her own images of each individual vampire, which placed her in a special role for each one. For the three kings and their wives, she became a daughter, someone they all wanted to take under their wing and show everything the world had to offer. To Felix, Demetri, Santiago, Afton, Chelsea and Jane, she became a sister. For the rest of the Volturi guard, she became a friend. For Alec, she became his companion, the love of his life and his best friend. What united the Volturi was one thought when it came to Y/N; they all wanted to protect her, whatever the cost.

Alec detached himself from his sister completely, walked around her and sat back down by his mate's bed.

"I'm so sick of this hospital room." He murmured. Carefully, Alec reached for Y/N's hand and clasped it with both of his. Slowly, he brought it to his mouth so he could leave a kiss on her fingers. Alec cursed his vampire existence at that moment, more than on other days. Because she had taken away his ability to cry. All he could utter was a silent whimper. Alec carefully placed Y/N's hand back on the mattress. He leaned towards the bed so that he could place one of his hands on her cheek while the other stroked tenderly through her hair. His eyes clouded over with pain.

"Did you know that you are so important to the Volturi that even the kings themselves were here to see you? Although Master Aro could see you through Demetris or through someone else, all three wanted to see it with their own eyes." He paused for a few seconds. "I think by now every Volturi has been here once. Your sister and the Cullens throw a fit every time they see another one of us." Jane quietly sat back down in her old seat and watched her brother closely. He removed his hand from her cheek and placed it on Y/N's hand.

"What I want to say to you, my Love, everyone misses you and everyone prays, I don't know to what or to whom, that you will open your eyes and brighten our lives with your light again. Volterra is so cold and dark without you. I miss you, so terribly that I can't even describe it anymore." Alec bit his lips and squinted his eyes. Jane placed her hand over Alec's and Y/N's. "Y/N I beg you come back to me, don't leave me behind in this world."

Jane opened her mouth to say something reassuring, but she was startled and looked down at the hand she had placed on her brother's and Y/N. Alec's eyes snapped open too, his movements in Y/N's hair stopped.

"Tell me you felt that too! Tell me I'm not going crazy Jane!" Jane just looked stunned at their joined hands and then at Y/N's face. "Alec…" Alec took his eyes off the hands and looked at his sister. She pointed at Y/N with her free hand, "Look!"

Y/N's eyelids twitched slightly and all hell broke loose.

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@rosedpetal @bofadeezs

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