#the angst actually made me tear up at one point i'm not kidding

[notanactressyayy]

—𝐰𝐞'𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐫, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐦𝐞—

pairing. ex! Natasha Romanoff x fem! reader

summary. in a day you simply wanted peace, two unexpected visitors showed up. for one of them, you were glad.

warnings. smut! I am NOT responsible for your content consumption! — making out, thigh riding, strap on usage, cursing, angst (w happy ending), soft dom Nat.

notes. my first language is portuguese, so I apologize for any grammar errors. feel free to give me advice, though!

divider credits: @cafekitsune ★

Natasha Romanoff was known as a cold, ruthless woman, who never cared for anyone besides herself. Most of the people didn't know this was due her past — the Red Room was always in complete secrecy, so they feared her. She was already used to it. Whenever she started something with someone, in the next day, she had an empty bed as a gift. To be completely honest, she always felt used. Men and women touched her, to leave her in the morning.

That changed when she met you.

You could say you'd changed her completely, for the best, of course. She became more open with you, learned to express herself better and was not known as the most selfish Avenger in the team anymore.

But just like people say, not everything is a bed of roses.

Instead of using that achievement to improve your relationship, she began to care a little too much about her team of superheroes. At some point, she was no longer paying attention to you.

Reports this, reports that. Missions and more missions. "I have to go somewhere with Cap." "I have to train with Tony to a mission." "I can't, I'll have to go with Clint."

When you confronted her about this, begging for her to understand and willing to help her change, she decided that it was a better option to part ways. You were devasted, and she saw it. That made her heart ache — someone actually lov— liked her enough to want to stay.

This was the one and only reason Natasha didn't forget about you. The only reason she thought about you everyday. The only reason she teared up whenever entering her car and seeing the polaroid with the heart pendant you gave her hanging on her rearview mirror, that she didn't dare to take down.

Today, you were leaving work, heavy tired steps echoing on the pavement's wooden floor as the moonlight illuminated the room. The building was already empty, the streets, darker than your thoughts.

As you started walking to the nearest bus stop, you heard quick footsteps behind you — it was already late and usually there was no people on the streets like this. You turned your head, "you gotta be kidding me".

"Hey, Y/n!" Peter exclaimed, running to catch up with you. "I didn't know you were going to be here at 11:30pm."

You rolled your eyes and took a sharp inhale, but like always, tried to be polite. This so called coworker of yours was always looking at you, following you everywhere, and asking you things, not always work-related. You always made it clear that you weren't interested in men, and he insisted on saying he could 'change your mind'.

"Hey, Peter." you replied, faking a smile and nodding. "You need me to review your documents again?"

"Oh, no. I was just wondering if you wanna go on a date with me. Did you see the restaurant that just opened over there? I could treat you to—"

"No, I don't." you cut him off, more harshly than you intended to. "Look, Peter, I'm sorry. But I don't want anything to do with you, alright? So if you want, go ahead and find somebody else."

You shook your head, not even waiting for his reply and picking up the pace again, quickly rushing to the bus stop. That's when the guy showed you a side that you just suspected, but preferred to believe he didn't have

"C'mon, Y/n." he grabbed your arm, nails digging into your skin. "You won't broke my heart, will you? You're such a gentle, beautiful, kind woman. You will give me a chance."

You cleared your throat, feeling him get closer, and thinking about a certain Red Head — how she would gently, delicately graze your skin with her fingers, so softly whispering into your ear and bringing you to her embrace—

"Back off."

"Oh, no." he laughed. Such a creep. "I won't back off. And if you don't cooperate, I'll make you give me a chance."

Your hands trembled now, silently praying to whoever was seeing this just call the cops or do something. You didn't know the guy anyway. He didn't talk to anyone at work beside you, and you never got to know him, you would never. That's when it would be a good use to have a spy girlfriend. Just the last thing you expected to happen was to hear the sound of a gun cocking behind you, and a very familiar female voice.

"She said back off."

Relief unconsciously washed upon you as your arm was released, only because of the gun, though. You knew that if if wasn't for her, who knows what could've happened there. Peter left, annoyed, but the Russian swore to herself that she'd make his life a living hell.

"... Natasha?" you whisper, turning around with a confused and even scared frown.

"Yes," she worriedly rubbed your arm, shooting you, slowly making the feeling of the disgusting hand fade away. "Are you okay?"

"I am..." you nodded subtly, leaning into her touch. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I saw a woman being harassed. What was I supposed to do? Mind my business?" she said, obviously avoiding your question.

"You know this is not what I mean." you frowned, carefully letting go of her caress and wrapping your arms around yourself.

Natasha sighed, trying to think of a way to explain herself. 'Oh, I'm here because I miss you so much I can't even sleep anymore.'? No, it wouldn't do.

"I... followed you."

"Oh, great, so I'm being stalked twice today." you hissed, making Natasha look down with your harshness.

"No, Y/n.. I'm here for.. personal reasons. I saw you leaving work, and I noticed that guy following you. I decided to follow too, until he grabbed you and I knew I had to intervine." she explained quietly.

The fact she had said 'personal reasons' deeply hurt you, but you couldn't do anything, you had broken up after all. You nodded, and prepared yourself to walk tp the bus stop again.

"Wait," Natasha quickly stopped you, her eyebrows furrowed. "I won't let you go home like this."

This was something about the old Natasha you knew, the protective one. It was okay, you were tired, and a ride would be no harm. "Where's your getaway car?"

She smiled softly at your joke, and tilted her head. "Around the corner."

You two walked silently towards the vehicle, as she unlocked the doors with the keys and you entered the passenger seat. You threw your bag on the backseat before you could focus on the environment around you, and see the polaroid of you and Nat with the heart pendant you gave her hanging on the rearview mirror.

Natasha noticed your gaze as soon as she entered the driver seat, clearing her throat and starting the car's engine. "Couldn't bring myself to take those down."

You stayed silent, but your eyes could tell everything. I'm glad. Oh, I'm so glad.

Natasha remembered your address as if you hadn't broken up nine months ago, and when you reached your place, you too much disappointed for your own good.

"Thank you for the lift," you whispered, turning your body to be able to grab your bag from the backseat — in the exact same moment Natasha turned to unbuckle her seatbelt — your fronts touching, which made you two a little startled.

The problem was that you didn't pull away, neither of you. You slowly turned your head to meet Natasha's gaze, your face so close to hers you could feel her breath. Familiar. It was pure instinct, almost muscle memory, of the times she always kissed you goodbye when dropping you somewhere.

You didn't even notice your hand going up to hold the back of her neck, much less when she placed her hand on your thigh, and leaned in so your noses brushed. Natasha closed her eyes for a brief moment, almost savouring your closeness, your aura enveloping her once more. Then your lips barely, barely grazed, breath hitching, as she couldn't take it anymore.

The redhead pressed her lips against yours, giving them a long peck. It was surprising how much time you lasted without air. You didn't break the kiss, just darted the tip of your tongue out to lick her bottom lip, begging for entrance. She gave in, trying to pull you closer but being stopped by the goddamn control panel. As soon as you felt her tongue touching yours you realized that this was going too far. You pulled back harshly, leaving you two panting for air and a disappointed Nat.

"Do you..." you shakily breathed. "... wanna come in?"

"Mhm." Natasha hummed, turning off the engine. "Can I?"

You didn't answer, just opened the door and slipped out the car. As you entered, you could practically feel Natasha's eyes burning the place. How you didn't take down any picture of yours. How her stuff was spreading across the pavement. It gave her a sense of... hope? Of course, since she was in the same situation.

"So.. are you seeing anyone?" you asked her while kicking off your heels and leaving them by the door.

"I think you know the answer for that." the redhead practically hissed, making your head snap towards her.

"But I want you to say it." you retreated. "I want you to look at me in the eyes and tell me you didn't forget me. I want you to look at me in the eyes and tell me the reason of why you came to my town again and followed me when I left work. I want you to tell me the reason of why you kissed me just like we always did before."

"I didn't! I didn't forget you, Y/n!" Natasha snapped, looking away and tucking the loosen strands of hair of her braids behind her ears. "I didn't forget you and I never did. Alright? Happy now?"

"Is that so?" you laughed humorlessly, crossing your arms. "I thought you cared more about your superheroes buddies. Where are they now!?"

"I left them." Natasha replied, looking at you again with a mixture of anger and pain. "I left them and came back, to you, Y/n."

You froze at her words, swallowing your saliva. "... okay?"

"I came back here, because I wanted to at least a chance to explain myself. I wouldn't be able to live knowing that I hurt you, and that you think that I did it on purpose. So please, just give me a chance."

"...go on."

Natasha sighed in relief, exhaling the air she was holding. "I'm sure you know my story. You were the first one to know everything about it, about me. And I'm also sure you know you're the first one to ever love me. No one else ever loved me like you did."

You leaned against the kitchen counter, listening carefully to her words, ready to give her time and patience, like you usually did.

"... I didn't know what I was doing, Y/n. Every other relationship I had, ended in less than a week. Love is a weapon and it's letal for me, for people like me. I was, I am startled by all of this, by this fuzzy warm feeling that you always gave me, that you still do, in my thoughts.. the Avengers were my first family, and when I panicked, I tried to hang on to them. In order not to hurt you, and myself." she didn't even realize the tear rolling down her cheek, and shook her head. "That's it. I'm sorry for everything, but Y/n, you will always have a piece— you'll always have my whole heart in your hands. I'll get off your hair n—"

You couldn't. Not anymore. You rushed towards her and grabbed her face, cutting her off with a deep kiss. She was taking aback, but her hands traveled to your waist, pulling you flush against her, your fronts pressing. Nothing changed. Natasha pushed you backwards against your room's door, her tongue entering your mouth and dancing with yours. You could feel yourself getting lost in her, damn it, once more. It was like she had this spell on you — you were trapped, and didn't complain.

"Y/n," the russian uttered, hands slipping inside your shirt and giving your waist a squeeze. "I've got to have you again, at least for one last time. Please, just this once—"

Tired of her rambling, you smirked and grabbed her by the jacket, pulling her into a kiss again and dragging her into the room, slamming the door shut. Natasha took this as a 'yes', and her hands, under you shirt, went to unclasp your bra, making it fall to the ground and a groan of relief escape your throat. Before she could remove the rest of the fabric of your body, you stopped her, pushing her down to the bed.

"I always wanted to do that," you started to slowly, so slow that it almost tortured her take off your clothes, stripteasing for her.

"Shit, Y/n." she quickly started to get rid off her jacket, snd everything else she was wearing. You were careful not to trip on the pile of clothes on the floor, and walked over to her again, straddling her leg on the edge of the bed.

Natasha's hand grabbed your hips roughly, keeping you in place and it didn't take two seconds before you started to grind on her. "Nat," you breathed, arms going to circle her neck.

"Who else touched you like this while I was away?" she growled in your ear, pressing your body against hers. "Answer me,"

"No one," you whined, giving her a subtle shake of your head. "No one, Natty. J-just myself,"

"My poor girl," Nat began to roam her hands up your sides, her lips pressing kisses on your jawline, "I'm so sorry I wasn't there to help,"

"You're here now..!" you gasped, your movements faster, as she began to move her thigh to stimulate you more.

"And I don't plan on going away," Natasha murmured, tilting your head to look at her in the eyes. Even in your high, you could make sense of her words, and the weight they beared.

"Nat!" you moaned, closing your eyes shut. "I need... please.. I—I need you, inside me."

Natasha almost lost her mind with that, grabbing your hips and pinning you down to the bed. She reached her arm out for the drawer that she hoped your strap still was, and luckily, she was right. "I'm gonna fuck you like never before, Y/n." she attached the silicone cock to her hips with urgency, holding your hips in place as she ran the tip of it across your folds, making you whine in need.

"Don't tease me," you gently gripped her arms on your hips and looked at her with dreamy eyes. She couldn't resist — but your walls were so tight she had to put a little effort to enter you.

"Holy fuck, baby." she moved her hand to brush your hair behind your ear, giving you a little time to get used to the length. "So fucking tight for me,"

"I—" you breathed, interrupted when Nat started to slowly move in and out you, her red hair falling into your face. You moaned, putting her hair up in a makeshift ponytail and with your free hand, holding her neck. "God, I missed you,"

Natasha pounded faster in you with those words, your moans only getting louder by the second. She grabbed one of your legs and placed it over her shoulder, allowing her to hit your g-spot repeatedly. You thumb went to your mouth, wetting it and starting to rub her clit — she couldn't say she expected that, her soft moans saying everything.

"Cum with me," you breathlessly requested, eyes fluttering close. Natasha didn't have to be asked twice. Her hips slammed into yours, the wet sounds of her thrusting echoing the room. "Natty!"

You back arched, head thrown backwards as your orgasm hit you. Natasha's legs shook, her weight falling onto you and your arms immediately wrapping around her, keeping her close.

"Don't make me go away,"

"I could never."

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Ahhhh I've been waiting for your requests to open, I've been following you since your first Price fic and never had an idea to request until like 2 weeks ago 😫 so, I've been thinking, what about being in a relationship with Keegan but getting separated when ODIN hits the earth and not meeting again until about 5 years later? 👀 Love your writing, hope you have a great day 🩵 :)

For The Weak And Weary

PAIRING: Keegan P. Russ x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: When ODIN struck you had thought he had died, sky alight with fire. It had taken years to accept it, much less live with it. But after Dallas falls, would you get a glimpse of your Lover's phantom again?

WORDCOUNT: 6.2k

WARNINGS: Angst, depressive thoughts, PTSD insinuations, gore, wounds, blood, death, canon-typical violence, (1) suggestive joke, alcohol, hallucinations, fluffy reunion, tears, verbal arguments, etc.

A/N: Just because I'm a sucker for sticking to the game timeline I made it ten years, lol. Enjoy, Anon! Very fun prompt.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You could never make sense of what Keegan went through in 2005 during Operation Sand Viper. It would be pointless to try and wrap your head around it from what little you knew. All that mattered was that when he came back on leave, something in his eyes was…damaged. Hell, he’d only been sixteen—the both of you had known each other since you were kids, you knew when something was wrong.

And this was entirely new to you.

He smiled less and snapped more; got spooked when you dropped something in his family's kitchen like a grenade had gone off. Maybe, you reasoned, he thought one actually had. 

But through it all, you could still see how much he cared about you. When you were old enough you’d both moved into a nice place in the suburbs and started a relationship—a life shared between the two of you. 

You knew he loved you from the way he’d grip you close at night and breathe into your scalp. How when you were sick from the take-out dinner he’d brought home, Keegan would hold back your hair and rub circles into your spine as you threw up. He never shied away from telling you how beautiful you were; prided himself on it. Keegan loved to show you off.

But there were times back then when you wondered if the same Keegan that had been so fulfilled to join Ghosts had died, and, in fact, a phantom was instead puppeting his skin. He was so quiet now.

If you’d known that the world was going to end on July 10th, 2017, you’d have never let him walk out that door angry. You would have grabbed his hand and pressed your lips to his, whispered affirmations into his flesh and sobbed at the cruelty of it all.

“I can’t keep pretending that you’re okay!” You yell, tears in your eyes, at the man standing tense in the kitchen doorway. Blank blue eyes stare lifelessly. “Keegan—this is killing you.” 

It was early morning by then, and the neighborhood was quiet. The house that the both of you had moved into years ago was littered with the remnants of a happy home. Pictures on the walls, dishes in the sink, and freshly baked bread on the counter. All you’d tried to do was give Keegan a hug, slipping your hands around his waist when you’d entered. 

He’d balked back, jerking to the side and nearly elbowed you in the gut before he saw your wide eyes and stopped himself. The way he’d looked at you…how could eyes be so dead?

“You need to talk to someone,” you put your foot down, shaking your head. “I-I don’t know a therapist or…or someone who can get you proper help because I can’t keep acting like I can live like this.” 

Every mission, every time he went away, it always got worse. 

Keegan’s eyes get sharp, hands at his sides clenching. He speaks in a low growl. “I don’t need to talk to a shrink, alright? I’m fine, you just startled me.”

“Bullshit,” your mouth hisses, glaring. “You thought you were back in ‘05.”

The man points at you, strong jaw clenching, “Don’t.”

“Keegan,” you plead, “please, I love you! I don’t care about this, I just want you to be alright. To be able to live your life—”

“What you want is to try and change me!” The black-haired man barks. Your eyes blink in shock. Keegan rarely yelled. “I already told you I was fine, why don’t you get off my back all the time?” His eyes flash, pupils going to slits as his hands shake at his sides. Why did he look scared? Your breath stills, lips slightly open, with tears dripping to the tile. “Fuck, it’s like I can’t come home without you pesterin’ me ‘bout something!” 

A stiff silence falls.

“Kee—” He snaps a hand to his mouth and rubs at his stubble, suddenly unable to look at you.

“...Forget it.” It’s low and shaky how he says it, eyes wide, before he darts into the foyer and slips into his boots. You listen to the sounds of panicked shuffling before the man wrenches open the front door and slams it shut behind him. One of the picture frames falls and hits the ground with a shattering of glass.

You flinch and tense, taking down a terse breath and sniffling tightly. Trying to get your lungs to work properly, your feet take you over to the picture as they feel weak and uneven; a stuttering mess of steps before you bend down. Your fingers bleed as they shift the glass away, taking out the image of you and Keegan on your hike through the mountains. 

Smiling faces mock you, and you break at the bright and open affection Keegan wears as he looks down at you—eyebrows curved up and smirk like a knife to the chest. 

You loved him so much it hurt to breathe when he was away. 

He had needed time, you knew, but what you didn’t know was that time wouldn’t be available. Around noon the world had opened into a ball of fire and death. 27 million dead. Los Angeles, San Diego, Phoenix, Houston, and Miami…all gone…at least, that was what everyone in Dallas was telling you. 

When Keegan had been away taking a walk to calm himself, you’d been home alone. The earth caved, the ground shook; houses burst like balloons. By the time you’d crawled from the rubble of your home, all you had was the picture and the clothes on your back. People were screaming—you were screaming. But you knew that you couldn’t stay here if you wanted to survive. 

And then you’d made it to Dallas by sheer luck and the few tricks Keegan had taught you; had thought that he had died in that first strike by the Federation. You carried that guilt and self-hatred for not holding your tongue for a few more hours. 

So much could have been different in these ten years. Better. You never got over him for even a second. 

But the reality was that you couldn’t think about all of that now, because if you didn’t focus on holding your breath you would be dead in the next three seconds. 

Your hand is anchored to the body of your sniper rifle, finger hovering over the trigger as you hide behind the outcropping of rubble in the decimated cityscape; the air is hot and humid despite the weight of the night. It sticks to your skin in a sheen of violent sweat. Yet it’s still not as potent as the blood. 

Teeth gritted, you hold back whimpers as Federation soldiers stalk the grounds, scores of them—legions. An entire army that had breached the walls and executed everyone insight, soldiers, civilians, if it once moved it didn’t anymore. The burning in your shoulder was agonizing, head smashing itself back to the rubble in an attempt to stifle your own ragged need to scream into the night as layers had peeled back to allow a bullet to pass through. 

In the ten years you’d been here, you’d taken up the mantle of quite the sharpshooter; pulling on Keegan’s lessons when he was on leave and wanted to bring you to the firing range. You had even picked a rifle similar to the one back in your destroyed home—held in a plastic case and treated like royalty by your long-deceased lover. It wasn’t the same, but the jet-black Lynx made you steady like the picture in your breast pocket did. 

A reminder of what was lost and why you had picked the knock-off up in the first place.

Footsteps get closer as the sweep of a flashlight cards above your skull, if possible you go even more still, lips pulled in and heart rampaging. There were barked orders and yelling, but no more screaming. 

How long had you been unconscious after taking that shot to the shoulder? Fear was breeding with horror—was…was everyone dead?

Spanish is loudly called not five feet away, and the flashlight leaves as your breath does. You let off a quiet gasp and suck down air greedily. Eyes flashing from one shadow to another, you look for any opportunity to slip away from the city. In the wind, you could smell fire, and taste it on your tongue as you licked your lips. 

All around you can see the limp shadows of bodies and the apartments, large skyscrapers were on fire deep in their frames. The city was entirely lost.

How the federation got into the walls you would never know, though there was concern about the enemy soldiers rounding up civilians outside the walls and executing them. Maybe one cracked before the bullet entered their skull.

You bite hard into your lip to force back your pain. Trying to shoot a rifle would be useless at this point, you might as well have lost the limb. Slinging the gun’s strap over your head, you look back and forth along your visible perimeter, checking for hostiles as you unsheathe your combat knife and cradle your limp arm to your chest. 

If only Keegan could see you now.

Rounds of gunfire make the air burn with urgency, and you take the time to peek out behind as sweat makes a trail down your dirty face, dripping off of your chin as you breathe like a wheezing dog. Your wound needed tending, and you had the med pack on your vest with the supplies, but you can’t do it here.

Where’s safe? If Dallas has fallen…is there anywhere that’s still standing? A location hits your brain as your gaze darts from one abandoned street to another. You take a deep breath and whine as you force your legs to stand and move quickly, feet shifting as quietly as you’re able to make them. 

“Fort Santa Monica.” Now a stronghold, you’d heard US soldiers here talking about the large presence of military power out in California—numbers so great they rivaled those that had lived in Dallas. 

You stumble over a spasming body and slam your uninjured shoulder into the bulk of the building’s wall, groaning loudly like a wounded boar. 

“Fuck!” If you made it out of the city, that would be where you would have to go; to warn them of what was coming. The Federation had found a way inside the Dallas wall, and that meant if they had enough tenacity, they could do it to them too. 

Everything would be done if another city fell.  

Holding your knife tighter, you push off the wall and grit your teeth harder, mind running on that edge of hysteria and forced calm. It’s in these moments where you have to pull on old memories to keep you going—even if they end up hurting more than the open wounds you carry. 

Keegan had his bad moments, but you always got through them together. Years and years of knowing each other inside and out; memorizing bodies and thoughts like they were second nature. He would want you to keep fighting, tell you to get your ass in gear and go…and you would never let him down. 

You owed him that much even if some days you wanted more than anything to join him. 

Blade in hand, you hear muttered speech from up the alleyway and pause, feet splayed but still swaying as you come to a slow stop. Your ears ring at garbled sentences, foreign words spilling into one another. 

Panting, you listen closely, limbs vibrating. More gunfire echoes over the air, screams and death that get ingrained into your head like a brand into sizzling flesh. Skyscrapers burned and buildings fell with great earthquake booms. Everything is under a sheen of distance.

Get out of the city. Get to Fort Santa Monica.

“Kill who I have to,” you slur out, itching at your neck as you leave a trail of blood behind you. A single pair of footsteps walk quickly forward near your corner and you hold your breath, bringing up your knife as pain pounds in your arm. 

Deep blue eyes sit in the back of your mind, counting you down as they always did.

Keep your arm steady for me, Doll, a phantom tells you. Breathe...

When the first shadow of a Fed soldier graces your eyes, you strike. 

—

It’s roughly nineteen days from Dallas to Santa Monica, and that was if you kept up at a steady walking pace. If the crude sling you’d fashioned from bandages found in your med pack was any indicator, it would be double that. 

On the first day, you had hiked half-dead over the destroyed landscape of what remained of the USA, licking your wounds and counting your losses. You’d had your pick of abandoned houses, taking a red brick one just because it looked nice and you were about to pass out from blood loss. The only reason you’d made it this far was that the bullet had thankfully passed right through you, making sure that if you moved too suddenly no more damage was being done internally. You packed it with a sterile rag.

Sitting in the home, pictures gathering dust on the fireplace mantle, you tipped back a bottle of whisky you’d found in one of the bedrooms, grimacing at the sting. It was better to be drunk for what you were about to do. 

Heating up your combat knife in the fire you had started in the hearth, you watched the metal grow an eye-flinching white as you stared off into nothingness. 

“You remember when you showed me that scar, Keegan?” You always talked to him. Others had given you shit for it, but they knew the purpose. If you didn’t talk to someone, even a ghost, you would give up. 

The guilt was eating you alive, and it would overtake you eventually. Hadn’t in ten years, but it would…you knew it, everyone did. 

Keegan was everything, and nothing looked the same when you lost him.

“The one on your thigh?” Pulling the knife back, you turn to the leaking flesh of your shoulder, gushing blood as black desecrates the sides of your eyes. You’d taken off your vest and shirt. If you tried hard enough you could imagine Keegan standing in the corner, watching. Always watching. “You said you had to dig a bullet out and cauterize the wound—when I asked you said you barely felt it over all the adrenaline.”

The ghost tilts its head, eyes sad and lips pulling taunt. Your lungs take in a shaky inhale and your hand quivers; only you feel how your eyes burn with unshed tears. 

“I never thought about it before,” right as you growl and shove the knife into your skin, you bark out in fear, “But I think you were fucking lying!” 

On day two, you knew you had to avoid the remains of Fort Worth, so you decided to increase your distance and cut that landmark out entirely—too many remnants of Federation. They were everywhere now, and you needed to keep low; get out of Texas. You scavenged properties and took stock. 

Four magazines for your Lynx, a pouch with five protein bars, one bottle of water attached to your belt, and your knife. Normally you’d have a pistol at your thigh, but you’d used it up in the firefight back home. When you’d woken back up, it had been gone.

And, of course, you had the picture. You kissed Keegan’s face and placed it back in your breast pocket, caressing the material softly before clearing your throat and addressing the obvious. 

With what you had getting to California was a pipe dream. 

You’d been on the radio all day, clicking through channels and pleading for anyone alive to reach out. Nothing. Static. 

I’m the only one left. The thought was intoxicating, pounding in your skull like your hangover. Everyone is dead. 

While you had become somewhat of a loner in the last ten years, especially with the few months you’d been by yourself in the beginning, Dallas had given you a chance to build bonds again. Ten years, and in an instant it was all wiped out. 

It rang a devastating bell.

Somehow, you had cheated death where so many others had failed—not only in Texas, but back with ODIN too. You had survived, but somehow Keegan hadn’t. 

Keegan, the one who never spoke about ‘05 and jerked awake from nightmares years later because of it. Keegan, who wanted nothing more than to stay at your side when he was home and keep you on his chest when watching movies. Keegan, the love of your life.

The only love of your life. 

“I really wish you were here,” you mutter, grimacing as your arm gets jostled as you stumble over a piece of rusted metal in the empty street. “Who gave you the right to go away before me, huh? We were supposed to grow old together, Russ. You promised me that.” 

Garbage gets blown over the road when a hot breeze shifts the air, bringing the scent of dirt and the noise of rustling trees. Nature has reclaimed the towns and suburbs—great patches of ivy and long grass that rise to your hips. But the silence was a curse.

The only thing keeping you going is the thought of delivering your warning to Santa Monica, from there…

Your lips thinned. What even was there left? How many times could you go from one place to another, starting over with stories of your past and having to brush the pitying looks off as you fake a smile? 

Shaking your head, you recall memories from the better days as the light gets low in the sky. 

“You’re doin’ too much, Sweet Thing,” Keegan mutters, and you turn from the stove top with a bright smile to face him. 

He had just gotten out of the shower, towel ruffling through his dark hair as he stands in the kitchen entrance and watches you cook for him. The shirt hangs off of his wide shoulders, and gray sweatpants are loose over his formed hips—his strong brow line raises in a casual expression. 

“Oh, don’t act like you don’t like it,” you tease, hearing his low chuckles as you turn back to your pan. “You look good, y’know.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Keegan grunts, smirking, and his feet pad over to you, tossing the towel to the counter as his presence looms over your back. Large hands grab onto your hips and a nose burrows into your hair; inhaling deeply before gradually melting to the curve of your spine. 

You smile and hum, pushing back so you can rest on his chest. A chin sets itself on your head, deep massaging fingers making you pur as they bunch your sleep shorts.

It was late—nearly two in the morning. Keegan had only gotten home a short while ago, but sleep wasn’t going to stop you from spoiling him. A wine bottle was on the island counter, two glasses, and the food was nearly done from what you could scrounge up on short notice.

“...Good to be back,” the man grumbles into you, kissing your head and slowly sweeping his arms around your waist as you sighed softly at the contact. 

Your face gains heat. 

“Well, I’d sure hope so, or else this would be awkward.” You huff to hide the bright smile in your voice. But like a moth to flame, you hear, as well as feel, Keegan chuckle against your spine. His grip squeezes you for a moment. 

“How was it when I was away?” He asks as you move around the contents in the pan, nose brushing your neck as his lips travel to kiss behind your ear. He breathes against the flesh as his low rasp makes you shiver. “Any trouble?”

“Negative, Sergeant,” you raise a brow and smirk over your shoulder at him, seeing his blues spark as he gazes hard into your eyes. A faint twitch to his lips is what you get before his hand captures your cheek; anchoring your face as he descends to connect his mouth to yours.

He sighs into it, arm still around your waist—tight as if you were a pillow. 

“Keep talkin’ like that and we won’t have to wait long for dessert, will we?” 

Days three through seven were uneventful beyond the constant agony of your arm and tired legs, but on day eight amid a waterless walk in the sweltering heat was when the hallucinations began. 

Keegan walks beside you, his footsteps mirroring your own as sweat pools down your forehead and drips off your nose. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t look at you—he just walks, looking exactly like he did the day he died. 

At first, you’d flinched back and blinked wildly at the sight, panting, but then he’d disappeared and your heart had shattered. It worried you with what you were seeing, but it was also a strange comfort to be able to ramble to…something, even if it wasn’t real. Hungry and with a dry tongue, you were on the verge of calling it quits.

So on day eleven, without a wild animal in sight to give you a proper food source and all the water having to be purified, you started talking to him while licking the inside wrapper of your last protein bar. 

“But I never understood why you hated sleeping in shirts,” you licked your lips to get the remnants of granola off of your flesh, pushing away the greasy sheen from your cheeks. Your arm was burning up—every heartbeat was felt as it moved the skin around red and infected flesh up and down. Puss was leaking out from the crude stitches you had made of embroidery thread from that first house you’d found. 

“And you always kept the room freezing.” Continuing, you drop the wrapper to the ground and then take the meat of your fingers and get what little flavor you can off of them, grunting through realization. “That was a ploy to have me use you for heat, wasn’t it? Jesus.” 

The man in the corner of your vision smirks, tilting his head and chuckling from where he leans against a tree trunk. 

“Yeah, that’s right. Knew it.” Glaring at nothing, you stand from your overturned stump and nearly fall right back over, stomach yelling at you as your vision swirls. 

You dig a hand into your hair and grip at the strands, pulling and groaning. “...God.” 

Keegan comes over and stands above you, your eyes staring down at his feet as you get light-headed. You focus on his shoelaces, counting the Xs and taking down shaky breaths. When you blink like a cat with dirt on its face, the shoes are gone entirely and you stand back up to your full height.

“...Keegan?” You ask after a moment, the words disappearing into the trees, but no one’s around. 

Your sight goes to your wound and your jaw tightens, moments of clarity slipping in as a knife would into your consciousness before the curtain settles once more. 

You bend over and vomit what little nutrients you had, spending day twelve sleeping through a fit of nightmares and fever-induced delirium.

Nothing about the remainder of the time you can recall to memory—bits and pieces always flash through on long nights, but they’re only walking montages. Dragging feet, looking at your hand as if it was a foreign object as you turned it back and forth; everything in a sheen of sickness. Days and days and days. Little food. Less water. 

More than one-thousand miles.

But somehow, the Wall peels out in front of you as you crash through the foliage, your body giving out and collapsing down a large decline. Bouncing and getting jostled by rocks, you come to a stop without the strength to get back up, staring blankly ahead as your head connects with concrete. Your mouth is open in broken inhales, pain not even registering. 

Shouts echo, the pound of rapid feet. 

Green eyes meet yours, a youthful face with a beanie and stubble. He’s saying something to you, glancing over your gear and your obvious near-death situation—his hand jostles the side of your face. But your eyes shift behind him gradually, attention falling to someone more important. 

Before you finally let yourself rest, you stare at the smiling face of your steadfast phantom.

—

The doctors and nurses at Fort Santa Monica were nice, if a bit secretive about the entire operation. Seeing as you weren’t an official soldier, no dog tags or patches—no name in the database—everyone was a bit hesitant to tell you anything. 

Until you said you were from Dallas, of course. 

But no one was eager to rush you in your state, even if the information was dire. You had been hooked up to an IV and bedridden for a week straight; talking to nothing on account of the dehydration and electrolyte imbalances. Some days you spend unconscious. 

But what really pissed you off when you got back into it, was the fact that they had taken your Lynx and your gear—your picture.

You’d almost grappled onto the first nurse you’d seen when you’d woken without it. It was a beacon, your prized possession of damaged corners and taped tears. Water damage that may or may not have been from sobbing fits in the first five years. 

In fact, that was the entire reason you had snuck out so late in the first place. 

Stalking down the hallway in the white shirt and camo pants that had been given to you on the fifth morning you had woken up here, you pad along with no shoes, only plain gray socks. You limp with bandaged flesh all along your healing shoulder and your feet. 

The doctor had explained that you’d entirely skinned the bottoms and your heels were a mess of blisters and open wounds. 

“Take my property,” you grumble under your breath, shuffling along and rubbing at the back of your neck. “What gives them the right?” 

You weren’t going to stop until you found it. 

Reading the name tags on the walls, you silently wonder where they would have taken your stuff as you slip out of the medical ward, listening to the buzzing of the lights and frowning. As you’re limping along the next hallway, a man suddenly turns the corner on nearly silent feet. 

“Woah!” You halt immediately, heart jumping in your chest. A hand catches your shoulder before you run headlong into him. 

Green eyes lock with your own, wide and blinking quickly. Brows furrow and you’re quickly looked over before a slow, teasing remark enters the air, you listen with a growing heat on your neck.

“Y’know, I could have sworn you were supposed to be in bed, Ma’am. I miss something here?” The man who had found you. 

“Wouldn’t know,” you say blandly, blinking up at him and taking a careful step back. This brunette had a casual air to him—still in his gear despite the time. He folds his arms and tilts his head at you, smirking. “If you’ll excuse me.” 

You begin to walk forward, slipping past him and hoping you won’t get snitched on. Except it seems you’ll be having a shadow, as not a few seconds later a smooth chuckle meets your ears and the man walks beside you. 

“I think I’ll be taggin’ along if you don’t mind. Security and all.” He turns to face you, sticking out his opposite hand. “Hesh.”

“That supposed to be some kind of nickname, Kid?” You raise a stiff brow but participate in the handshake nonetheless. His grip is firm but not hard. 

Hesh blinks at you, eyes swimming with amusement before he shrugs in a boyish way and shakes his head with a laugh. “Hell, you remind me of someone, Ma’am.” A moment passes in silence as you study the area. The man huffs, “Where exactly are we off to?” 

“Wonderland,” your lips grumble, tired and wanting to sleep but not until you find your picture. Hesh sighs but you can still hear the hilarity inside of it. 

“Alright then…don’t know if you’re going to be finding a shrinking potion anytime soon, though. We’re in low stock.”

“Very funny,” your eyes send a dry look, but you relent when he prods you with his eyes, taking a corner. “I’m looking for my vest.” Hesh blinks at you in curiosity, letting you elaborate as you motion to your upper shoulder. “My pouch has some of my personal belongings. I don’t like being away from it.” 

“Oh,” the brunette nods a few times, his beanie jerking along. “Yeah, that’s no problem.” A hand is waved and you stare in confusion as he pivots. “C’mon, I’ll get you there.” 

Your eyes burn into his back before you immediately speed after. 

“Why so eager to help?” Hesh smirks at your question. 

“As I see it, if you went over nineteen days of hard hiking just to get to us, you should at least be able to keep your stuff on you, Ma’am.” Your lips flicker in a smile. 

“You’d be the first.” You tell him your name and miss the slight emotion it provokes in his eyes, head lightly pulling to the side but ultimately saying nothing. Hesh shrugs with a grunt, leading you to a meeting room on the opposite side of the building. 

Yelling is on the other side.

“Elias, how long has this been kept from me?!” The voice makes your head perk, evoking something inside of your chest. Hesh seems taken aback too, holding up a hand to you for momentary silence—not that you had to be told. 

“Keegan, I can’t have that happen. She needs to recover and you being there could jeopardize that. We need what she knows about Dallas.” Your body stills to a near-frozen state, and it’s comedic how your entire face falls to a blank slate. Wait a second.

…Keegan?

“She belongs with me—I thought she fucking died and she’s been here for who knows how long?! Why wasn’t I informed?” Rampaging feet suddenly sound off, going to the door at break-neck speed.

“Son, that’s not a good idea. This is what I was worried would happen if you found out.”

“I didn’t exactly ask, did I? As far as I’m concerned, nothing else matters besides getting back to my Girl,” the bark is ferocious and violent, more of an animal’s than a man’s. “Now where the hell did you put her before I tear this damn fort apart and—” You shove at the door before Hesh can grab you, throwing it open and letting it hit the opposite wall with a great boom of wood. 

Your wild eyes instantaneously lock into sharp blues, pulse pounding in your ears. It’s like all the air is taken from your lungs in a great punch. 

Oh, he’s so similar to how you remembered him to be ten years ago. 

Keegan stands only a few feet away, turned in your direction with his eyes so wide and small you might faint. There’s black face paint in his sockets, making the cerulean all the more bright and shocking to the senses. He’s still tall, still built, if only a bit more rugged than when ODIN struck—there are lines on his forehead and his scars are more faded. Small differences in the way he holds himself like the difference between a rabbit and a hare. Keegan’s black locks are shorter now, but still…his.

Lips part in silent shock, an entire halt of your nervous system. 

The entire universe holds its tongue as you two stare at each other; walls and rooms blur into a mess of matter and reality—this couldn’t be real. 

Keegan’s feet shift for a moment as if to steady himself as his fingers twitch. In his hand, he holds your picture, his body covered in gear and weapons. He blinks as you tell yourself he’s a phantom, simply that same ghost come back to haunt you as tears sting the backs of your eyes. But then he speaks, and it’s the same voice you had slowly lost the ability to remember in year three. 

“...Sweetheart?”

His ghost never spoke. His ghost could not imitate the phonics of his speech or the rhythm of his throat. His ghost could not make you recall the memories you’d long since boxed up.

You jerk forward just as he does, bodies colliding into a feral grip of flesh and fabric, hands latching and faces burying. Sobs rip from you as Keegan’s shaky breath echoes right next to your ear—his chest hitching and arms snatching your waist and lifting you up as easily as he always had. He holds you up without any thought of putting you down, legging your legs dangle as Elias slowly exits the room and corrals a highly confused Hesh with him.

The door shuts, but neither of you notices. 

“Keegan—” Your voice is high with emotion, hardly believing what you're seeing—what you’re touching. “Oh, my God.” 

He had been alive all this time? Ten whole years and you’d thought he was dead. But by the way he was barely letting you breathe from in his iron clutch, you imagined Keegan had thought the same about you. It was…incomprehensible. 

“Shh,” he whispers, his shushes cracking and flinching between broken gasps of your name. “Shh.” He sets you down on the floor only to have his firm hands travel to your cheeks, turning your head to each side in a desperate need to understand if you were really there.

Keegan’s eyes are wet, but no tears let themselves fall quite yet. 

“I’m so sorry!” You hiccup and the man kisses your cheeks—your browline and nose. Every piece of you he can as you both stay so intimate you might melt into one another. “I thought you were gone, I-I should have stayed and looked for you, I didn’t—”

“You’re alive?” Keegan’s hands rub across your body, gripping and tugging you closer and closer. “My Girl’s alive?” 

His tears drip to your face as he hovers above you, and you both shake with the weight of years. 

“Me?” Your chuckle through sobs—you want to scream and wail at the same time. Blue eyes flutter and ragged breaths puff on your forehead. “What about you, you asshole?” 

Keegan shakes his head, and you stare deeply into him, hands coming up to cup his cheeks as he sags forward. He had stubble now, spreading out to grate your flesh. 

The man forces a weak huff. 

“Christ,” is all he mutters before he presses his lips to yours in a kiss so unyielding you expect to have your air stolen. Ten years to feel him kissing you again—to feel his warm flesh under your hands and his heart rampage into you. 

You’d do it all over if it still amounted to this.

Your body shivers and you reciprocate with just as much fervor; this emotion of relief is so overwhelming and all-consuming that it makes your head light. You suck down quick breaths between the sensation of your lips meeting, Keegan doing the same. 

Unconsciousness was better than letting him leave again, your lover sharing that sentiment as chests slid against one another. Soft hair slips through your fingers as you grip Keegan’s hair, cascading through locks as he groans into your lips and tries to hide his tears from you. 

He pulls away and immensely shoves his head into your neck. 

“You’re here,” he whispers quickly. A hand quivers at the back of your head as your tears wet his gear. “You’re right here. You came back to me, didn’t you, Doll?” 

You cry, “I’m here, Keegan.” The man sobs when he hears you say his name, his knees giving out as you both fall to the floor and not letting the other move beyond the caress of skin and lips.

“I missed you,” Keegan gasps, “so much. Don’t you understand? I was nothing without you. You took it all from me, everything. Every damn thing.” 

You press kisses to his neck and racing pulse, healing him inside and out without even realizing it; it was only fair, he was doing the same back to you. 

The picture lays long forgotten on the floor.

“Never let me go,” your voice forces out, as he rocks you back and forth like a child. “Never again, Keegan. Please, I love you too much to go through that again.”

“Never,” he immediately promises, pulling back and kissing your lips again—neither can stop themselves from this. Blues eyes blink quickly, cataloging your face and every little blemish he’d have to relearn and study; to find the story behind. Keegan had never been happier. He felt like he might break from it. “Over my dead body, I’m never lettin’ you out of my sight. You’re stuck with me.”

You laugh genuinely for the first time in ten years and say you’d like nothing better as he pulls you back in and plants his mouth to yours in reverent worship. His arms trapping you to him as yours do just the same.

Not to leave again anytime soon. 

TAGS:

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[lucy90712]

kinda sad but reader distancing herself from jude bc she’s pregnant and don’t know how to tell him and he’s really scared bc he thinks she’s gonna leave him

A/n: I had to give this a happy ending as I have far too much angst to write that I needed a pick me up

Do it. Just do it. 

I have to keep telling myself those few words. In front of me sits a pregnancy test that I can't get myself to take as I don't want to know the answer. Jude and I have always been really careful as he doesn't want kids, I don't mind either way but because he doesn't want them we always try to be super safe. Despite that for the last few weeks I've just not felt right I've been feeling really nauseous and my period is now a week late which really only means one thing I just didn't want to believe it. As much as I know I'm almost definitely pregnant I don't want to take the test as that will confirm it and then I'll have to deal with the consequences.

How would I tell Jude? Would he leave me? Can I raise a baby on my own? All of those questions swirled round my brain as I still just stared at the test. Jude will definitely not be happy but if I am pregnant I don't want to get rid of the baby as I don't think I could handle all the emotions that come with that. If I don't get rid of the baby I can definitely see Jude breaking up with me which I understand he doesn't want kids and he's just starting out his career at Real Madrid he won't want a baby to look after so I'll probably be on my own in a city I don't know with no support. 

It got to the point that all of the questions were starting to eat away at me so to forget about them I decided just to take the test. What no one tells you about taking a pregnancy test is that the few minute wait for the result feels like a century I swear I was pacing back and forth forever before the screen displayed the result. I chose to take a digital test as it would tell me how many weeks I was as that's something I wanted to know too but then I realised that knowing how far along I am will make it feel a whole lot more real. There was no surprise when I finally looked at the test and it said pregnant 4-5 weeks. 

Finally seeing it confirmed made it impossible to hold back my tears any longer. Instinctively my hand went to my stomach as I thought about how in a few short months I will have a baby the baby that is currently growing inside me. The tears were a mix of happiness as somehow I was actually happy to know I was pregnant and anxiety as I have no idea what the future holds. 

~~~~~~~~~~

It has been a month since I found out I was pregnant and I'm now 10 weeks along. A few weeks back I went for my first ultrasound and got to see the baby and make sure everything was ok which it was. Jude still doesn't know, I've tried to tell him so many times but I just can't do it I either chicken out or the moment just doesn't feel right. I know I need to tell him soon as I'm already starting to develop a small bump which will only get bigger and sometimes I think Jude gets a bit suspicious when I won't eat certain things I usually love as I know they will make me sick. 

Over the past month I have definitely been a lot more distant with Jude which has meant he hasn't noticed when I've had really bad sickness days and that I have a small bump growing. It's hard hiding such a big secret from him which is part of why I've been so distant because I just want to tell him and for us to be a happy family but I know it won't go that way and I can't bare the thought of that. I love Jude so much and I don't want to ruin our relationship but I know at some point I'll have to tell him and deal with whatever heartbreak comes along with that. 

No one apart from me knows about my pregnancy not even my parents or my friends I have kept it a complete secret. Today though I'm seeing my friends and I know they are getting a bit suspicious as when we go out I'm always tired and I don't drink anymore. We aren't doing much today just going for brunch so I got up after Jude left for training and went to where we were supposed to meet. Once everyone was there we went in and got a table and I lasted less than a minute before the smell of someone's food made me feel so nauseous that I had to run to the bathroom. My best friend joined me to make sure I was ok but I knew she wasn't convinced when I said I was fine. 

"Are you ok?" The rest of the group asked 

"Yeah I'm fine" I said 

"What's going on girl you've been acting weird for a while now" my best friend said 

"Ok you guys can't say anything to anyone but I'm pregnant I found out a month ago and I've been hiding it because Jude doesn't want kids and I don't know how to tell him" I admitted 

None of them really knew what to say they all knew that Jude didn't want kids and a baby was never supposed to be part of our lives so they were as shocked as I was. After the initial shock they all started giving me advice and telling me everything would be fine. They all tried to reassure me that Jude wouldn't leave me when he found out but they did say I need to tell him at some point soon and I agree but it's hard to find the right words to say. 

Once I got back home I just sat in silence thinking about life and how I got to this point. I was so consumed with my thoughts that I didn’t hear the front door opening or Jude calling my name as he entered the house with increased panic when I didn’t reply. I only came back to reality when he was stood in front of me catching his breath after I nearly gave him a heart attack. There was a lot of staring at each other as I tried to find something to say while he tried to read me and work out what I was thinking. 

“Love are you ok and before you tell me you’re fine I know you’re not you’ve been acting strange for a while and I just want to know what I can do to make things better” he said 

Hearing him say that was too much for me I just burst into tears right in front of him. His arms made their way around me and he tried to calm me down but that didn’t help. This last month I’ve held back all of my emotions about this whole situation and now they are coming out all at once and I can’t hold them back any longer. I tried to tell him but the words couldn’t escape my mouth so instead I grabbed his hand and took him upstairs with me. I kept my pregnancy test and ultrasound pictures hidden away in my wardrobe so I found them and just placed them in Jude’s hands. This isn’t how I wanted to tell him but I think it’s the only way I can do it without having another breakdown. 

“What is this?” He asked 

“I’m pregnant” I said 

“I’m sorry I know you don’t want kids and we are always careful I don’t know how it happened and I just I’m just sorry” I rambled 

“Hey it’s ok calm down how long have you known?” He asked 

“I’ve known for a month and I’m 10 weeks now” I said 

“Wow we are going to be parents” he said hugging me tightly 

“Wait you aren’t mad” I questioned 

“No of course I’m not mad I’m actually really happy I know I said I didn’t want kids but more recently I started to change my mind especially seeing you with all the guys kids it made me want that with you I couldn’t be happier right now” he said 

“So you aren’t going to leave me?” I asked 

“Of course not I can’t wait to go through this whole journey with you I’m just sad I haven’t been there for you until now” he said 

Hearing that was such a relief but not at all what I expected. I’ve always been told things happen for a reason and this is one of those things I guess. Naturally Jude had a lot of questions so I told him everything like everything I know about the baby and how I’ve been feeling as he wanted to know how I’ve been coping. It felt so good to finally tell him everything and he seemed so genuinely happy which allowed me to actually think about how excited I am too as that’s something I’ve pushed away until now. 

After a long conversation we both went silent and just took a minute to take in what has just happened. As we sat there Jude’s hand made its way to my shirt which he lifted up slightly and just rested his hand on my tiny bump. I watched as the smile on his face got even bigger than it was before I could see him look at my almost non existent bump with so much love that it almost made me cry. This whole thing doesn’t seem anywhere near as scary now that I know Jude is here to support me and I already know he’s going to be the best dad if he loves our baby this much already. 

[penelopepine]

Elephant in the Room Pt. 3

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Summary: John and you hooked up after a night at the bar. You two after that never saw each other again. At least until 12 years later when Price discovers that 9 months after your time together you had given birth to not one baby, but two. Word Count: 1592 Content: angst

Price honestly isn't sure what the best thing to do in this situation is, but he decides to softly knock, almost a tap, against the door once more before calling out your name, "I know I'm the last person you want to see right now, but I need to talk to you." 

 It goes quiet on the other side of the door, and for a moment John thinks that you, fairly so, left him standing there alone talking to himself. That is of course before the door is swinging open revealing you once more. Your eyes are bloodshot and cheeks are stained with tears. He also sees what once was confusion on your face is now replaced with anger. 

You take a step towards him with one arm raised. It's obvious that you're going to hit him, and while Price could very easily block it he lets you strike him. 

The sound of flesh connecting rings out through the quiet as you slap him across the face. Your breath is heavy as you growl out, "Did you do it? Did you take him?" 

He takes the hit in stride; you're hardly the strongest person to ever smack him before. Taking in your words though Price does feel a slight spark of anger in his chest at the idea of him doing this purposely. Although he supposes it does look very suspicious that he would show up right after Andrew was taken from your point of view. 

The labs luckily don't make any moves, simply watch the interaction in silence. "I promise you I didn't do this. You can think whatever you want about me, but I wasn't the one who took him. I have an idea who did though." He stares into your eyes, trying to show you that he isn't lying. "If we could all go inside I promise to explain what I can." 

"All?" It was at that moment that you finally seemed to take notice of the three other men behind him. 

John steps to the side letting you have a better view of them, "these are my men; they're here to help."

Looking at you though you don't seem to take in any of his words. You shake your head slightly before turning, and walking back inside; leaving the door open for them to presumably follow you.  

Silently you make your way into the dining room, and take a seat at the table. "Sit, please." Your voice is firm, but clearly exhausted. He sits down on the opposite side of you while Soap and Gaz sit on both sides of him. Ghost on the other hand stands in the corner next to the doorway. “Explain.” 

"My team was sent a video of Andrew." John for once found himself lacking confidence, and unsure of what to say. He wanted to tell you the truth, but in your current state being blunt may only hurt you further right now. "They made demands of me and my team for his safe return. A highly skilled team is looking into the video as we speak, and I will be going to get him back as soon as I can."

"Why did they take him to threaten you? How did they connect him to you?" You ask after a few seconds, "He has never even met you before." Your voice cracks as you try to speak. 

"Nothing is confirmed as of now, but I have an idea of how they found him. We'll keep you updated when new information comes to light. I assume after they found him they thought I had simply hid my family from any paper trail that led to me."

"So everything that's been happening is all because of some misunderstanding!" Your anger shining through with every word, "What now? I'm supposed to just sit here and wait; what's to stop them taking Amelia as well if you don't do as they say?"

“That’s actually why we’re here.” 

“What do you mean by that?”

Ghost is surprisingly the one to speak up, “It means you and the kid are being relocated. Time to start packing the essentials.” 

"Lieutenant!" Price quickly repremans, "What he meant to say is that it is no longer safe for you two to stay here while this situation is still active. We'd like to move you both onto base; a house is already set up for you." 

“You’re serious?,” You asked, voice rising in disbelief, “We have to leave our home?”

“It’s for your safety; I wouldn’t be asking this of you in any other situation.” 

“I just can’t believe that you-.” You begin to say before being cut off by a young feminine voice.

“Mom?” 

Price quickly looks toward the voice, and there standing in the doorway is Amelia. 

She looks quickly around the room, taking in and analyzing all the strangers in her home. Pausing once her focus is on him. He knows Amelia is a smart kid, and that with him in front of her there is no way she doesn't know who he is. It's obvious when it finally clicks in her head. Her shoulder tense and her eyes look sharper. "What's going on?" 

Before she has even finished asking her question you are standing and rushing towards her. You bring Amelia into your arms, and begin to guide her out of the dining room. "Let's go talk in your room." You say before addressing him once more, "I'll be down in a bit. Uh feel free to get yourself something from the kitchen. I'll be down to discuss this more shortly." 

No one says a thing as they watch you make your way around the corner and out of sight. The silence only lasts for a second though before Gaz is speaking up, "Cap, you solid?" 

Price takes a defeated breath, “How much have I messed this whole thing up?”

“I’d say this conversation is actually going quite well. She could have refused to listen to us entirely.” 

Soap is next to speak, “If anything I’d say Lt. is the one to make her hostile against him.” 

“She wasn’t going to like being told she and her daughter have to leave their home. That anger of being told that was directed at me rather than the captain. I’d say I’m the only one who helped him during that conversation.” Ghost states back.

Before Soap can say anything further Price interrupts them, “Enough you two; you’re not about to start arguing right now.” 

The room lulls back into silence before Gaz asks him, “What are we gonna do if she doesn’t agree to come with us?” 

"We'll stay here then until she does," John wasn't sure what else could be said to convince you to come with them, but he would stay here with you both until he did, "Let's just hope it doesn't come to that." 

Before more can be said you're striding back into the room once again; coming to stand across from him. "You're going to get Andrew back?"

"I won't rest until I do." 

You give him a final nod and say, "We'll go with you; to the base. I'll go start packing I suppose then." With that you're walking out leaving Price stunned with how almost simple that exchange was.

The rest of their time spent there was filled with helping them pack their bags into the cars. Soap and Gaz talked the most to you both at this point; not wanting you two to be scared of them. Hoping to be a friendly face in a new location.

John wanted to try and talk to Amelia, but this situation was already overstimulating and he didn't want to add even more on top of that. 

Finally everything was packed and ready to go. Laswell had texted him as well letting him know that the house was now fully set up for his girls.

His girls. Isn't that a nice thought.

It was at this moment though where John took a pause. You two had gotten into one of the vehicles and as much as he wanted to be with you both he wasn't sure if that would be the best right now. Being away right now might be better. Without much more thought to that he climbs into the other car; Ghost getting into the passenger's seat. He watches as Soap and Gaz climb into the car you're in before pulling out down the road back to base. 

It's a quiet drive; neither one feeling particularly talkative. After so long though Ghost surprisingly does speak up. "You should have got in the car with them." 

"Thank you for your input lieutenant," irritation was clear in his voice.

"You need to talk to them."

"That's ironic coming from you; someone who never wants to talk." 

"I'm not the one who discovered they have a family this morning." 

John tightens his grip on the steering wheel, "I think it's best to not overwhelm them right now." 

Ignoring what he just said, Ghost continues, "Time heals all wounds they say. The sooner you have an honest talk with them the sooner the healing can begin." 

"Time is not always enough; sometimes you have to amputate to heal." He retorts despite knowing that Ghost is only trying to help him. "If that means by the end of this they need to leave me to heal then so be it." 

Ghost gives him a hard stare before fixing his gaze onto the road ahead. The rest of the drive is silent.

Taglist: @zarsghost @lulurubberduckie @mafer383 @7thsthings @sazifer

[bigassmoonchild]

Hoops

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: None of your squad was ready to be a part of a mission. You knew they weren't, they were just kids who were getting ready for a life of misery. So you went instead. Missions never go right with the 141, and as much as Simon didn't want you to join you had to. It seemed you couldn't stray from an argument with him for too long.

Content Tags: Angst, Hurt/No Comfort, Canon Typical Violence, Missions Gone Wrong, Mentions of dead bodies, Medical Inaccuracies, Arguments, Simon Realizing His Feelings For You, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha! Ghost, No Use of Y/N

A/N: Here it is! Chapter 9 of Maple Syrup! I would've thought you guys would prefer the smut, but it almost seems like you like the angst more?? Here y'all go, enjoy! As always, content is under the cut and my asks are open!

Part 1 | Previous, Next | Headcannons, Masterlist

"Is anybody on your training squad ready to be placed in a mission yet?" You sighed deeply, running your hands down your face. Shaking your head, you looked up at the man leading the operation. You didn't know his name, and quite honestly you didn't want to.

He looked away, thinking. "My last squad? Maybe there would've been one person strong enough for it, but this one? They didn't even know how to go about placing a tourniquet, let alone stitching someone up on the battlefield," you told him. You didn't want to be sitting here, busy with trying to make sure you didn't send any of your squad out too soon to be ready for the actual fight.

All you wanted was to be curled up in your nest, trying to figure out where the hell Simon had run off to this time. For the last two weeks Simon had seemingly disappeared, not even having lunch or dinner with you.

"Do you think that you're capable of going on this mission?"

"I'm not allowed on missions anymore, I thought?" You were appalled. Stunned. You hadn't ever thought of returning to the field, not since you'd become mated. "Aren't there a bunch of hoops to jump through if you wanted to have me return to the field?"

He shrugged. "I have enough of a reputation that I'd be more than capable of getting this through the hoops," he told you.

The next morning, as you were just about to take a sip of the coffee you had oh so carefully made, the door slammed open and made you jump, spilling it just between your legs. You stared at the coffee splattered on the floor before looking up.

Simon. You went to talk, opening your mouth to say something when he interrupted. "You're not going on that mission," your brows furrowed. Of all things he could've fucking said to you, for the first time in weeks, that's what he chose?

"I don't recall you having a say, considering you come and go in my life," you snapped at him. He looked almost taken aback at your words. "When you finally make a decision about whether you want to be in my life or not, then you'll get a say in these things," you told him.

He looked away, closing his eyes tightly before opening them and staring at you. "Last time I checked I was your Alpha,"

"Last time I checked an Alpha didn't abandon his Omega because he wasn't good at talking," you snapped, standing up. "Now, if you'd ever so kindly leave, I have work to do. If you come back, I'm expecting an apology, explanation or both," you pointed at the door.

Mouth agape, he stared at you, blinking rapidly. You pointed at the door again and he turned, not looking back as he walked out and shut the door softly.

You sat down, hands holding your head as you gave little gasps, trying to breathe through the panic you felt. Tears were dripping through from your eyes, throat burning.

Jesus fucking Christ, Simon Riley was going to be the death of you.

Being back in a plane was a little unsettling, even if you had gone through a quick two-week training session, to get you back up to speed, they said. They taught you basic combat skills, got you comfortable with simple weaponry. Made you a soldier, at least once again.

The bumping of bodies together because of how close everyone was. You could feel the weight of the gun you were holding and the packs you were holding, filled with medical supplies.

People were speaking loudly, some through their radios and some just between each other. You could see Soap and Price sitting just across from you, Price leaned in to listen to what Soap had been saying. Ghost and Gaz were on the other flight, with another squad who had another medic.

The flight shook, tremoring with the turbulence, shaking like you almost felt like you were. Your hands were grasping at the straps holding you in place, and you saw Price press into his radio to be heard on the team channel.

"Alpha Team, drop in 5, be ready," he spoke and you nodded at them, listening to a few others give their affirmatives. The plane shook, you could hear from inside the shots it was taking. Hopefully, it would remain intact enough to get you to the landing point and be okay to extract you if need be.

Alarms began blaring, people stood and moved, seeming to try and run away. You stood yourself, glancing over at Price and Soap to try and figure it out.

"We're jump-" Black. Everything was black and as you came to it felt like your body was on fire. Everything hurt and you could feel that sticky wetness covering parts of you. You moved your fingers and toes, trying to make sure nothing was wrong.

As you sat up, you looked around, feeling for your in-ear mic. It was there and you smacked at it a few times before it turned back on, albeit slightly staticky.

"-nyone there? I repeat, is anyone there?" Gaz?

"I'm here, we went down," you spoke, struggling to your feet as you looked around. "I'm going around to find any survivors or see if people are dead, send for extraction. I'll let you know the injured count," you tossed some rubble off of a person, feeling for a pulse.

Nothing. The next person was cut through the abdomen, their eyes glossy as they stared into the smoking sky. From what you could see on his uniform, he was just a boy.

The next person was blinking up at you, their leg sliced all the way through, nothing but flesh and blood splattering it. You slid on a tourniquet, giving the soldier a small smile and some reassurances.

You hadn't been out for too long, you'd realized. If that soldier was still alive, even with a lost limb, it had been seconds or minutes at most. You reached for you mic before hearing a voice.

"Sit still, I'm coming to give you backup," Ghost. You shook your head, crawling through more debris as you found Soap.

"You're going to want to bring as many people that know how to treat severe wounds," you told him. For what seemed like seconds, you worked to stitch up the major wounds on Soap, closing up an artery.

When you found Price, you became horrified. There was rubble covering him, his body limp, blood surrounding him. You moved to pull the rubble off of him, unable to do it because of the weight. Instead, you jumped to stitch up the wounds you could see, listening to the calls of Ghost and the others.

"Over here!" You shouted at them, waving your flashlight. When they were finally able to get there, you started ordering people around. "I need at least two people helping me search and fixing people up. Price is here, someone needs to get the rubble off of him," you watched as Ghost and Gaz pulled the rubble off, moving it away and you jumped in to tourniquet the wound.

With each stitch, you could feel yourself falling more and more into fear. His artery was almost severed, and you needed to spend more time on him. You looked up and found Ghost hovering over you.

"How far out is extraction?"

"Few minutes, maybe 10 max,"

"They need to get here faster, or there are going to be a lot of deaths," you told him, watching as he reached for an actual radio, talking into it and nodding. He'd ended up getting them to arrive not five minutes later, their speeds picking up with the knowledge that there were survivors.

As you boarded the flight with the worst of the wounded, which ended up being a young girl not too much younger than yourself, you watched Ghost fight his way on. He stood in the corner as you ordered the people around and trying to fix her up.

He watched, intently, as you moved in your natural habitat. He could see the blood pooling down the back of your head, as much as you tried to ignore it.

When you moved too quick around a corner, you had to catch yourself to keep from passing out. Lightheaded, you stood trying to bring your vision back from tunneling. There was nothing short of panic in your body as you turned to say something, vision fully blacking out before you felt yourself falling.

Your head was throbbing when you came back to, the bright lights burning your eyes as you opened them. You could smell fear and stress all nearly fully coating the tobacco, leather and little hints of smoke from the last mission. You lifted your head as much as you could, glancing over to where the scent was strongest.

"Are you finally back to deciding I'm worth being in your life?" You whispered, voice hoarse from all the screaming. You could hear Simon sigh heavily, a groan coming from his throat.

"Can we please do this another time? You nearly died," he whispered the last part, moving closer to you. You shook your head vigorously, trying to bite your tongue to keep from snapping at him.

You looked at him. "I've told you already. I can't do this up and down with you, this back and forth. It's ruining me," you whispered, feeling your eyes watering. He shook his head, cupping his face in his hands. "Either you figure out how to talk to me, or we get rid of this," you watched as he rubbed his eyes, you could smell the distress and sadness overtaking his scent.

He looked up. "I don't know how to do anything but retreat," he whispered to you. Shaking your head, you looked up at the ceiling. Glancing at him shortly, you had to close your eyes.

"Then you need to leave until you can figure out what it is you want," you told him, hearing him stand and the door opening and shut. With him went his scent, the only thing you could smell was the distress and hurt.

You could feel the tears pouring down your cheeks, your knees bending in an attempt to curl in on yourself. It had felt like hours until your tears dried, your chest hurting and the little gasps you gave out slowly became hiccups. It slowly turned to little breaths, your eyes blinking slowly as you stared to the side.

It took about a week until you were released, the concussion having healed through the week, large bruises and scrapes were slowly healing, a few stitches scattered on your body. You found yourself in your room, the area feeling too clean for your opinion.

The nest had lost its scent, leaving you to re-make it with materials that were better scented.

You took out the one last hoodie of Simons.

The not knowing was what hurt the most. Not knowing if Simon was going to keep you as his mate, not knowing if he was going to try and help himself and help you.

With a deep breath, you started a bath. Your thoughts would be the end of you, and you needed to take some time to just not think. Maybe have an orgasm or two, by your own hands this time.

Simon left. He just completely left the compound when you had made your comments to him, still lying on that bed and slightly bloody. Hair a mess, mud (or blood) splattering it. He put in his leave request the minute he left your hospital room and then booking a flight home.

Home. What a strange concept. Was home just a building, the place you laid your head down to rest at night? Was is the place that you went to when you had nowhere else to go?

Was it a person?

Simon didn't know. He didn't want to know, to be completely honest, and all he could do was run. Just like he always did. Either way, Simon needed a minute to think about everything that happened. Everything he did, everything you did and the things that were caught in his mind.

He hadn't even told Price he left, not yet at least. Not to his face. Sure, he left the note, but Price had been off doing things when he went there.

There was nothing that was good when he got into his apartment. The area smelled stalely of him, and he felt this weird sense of longing lodge into his chest. He wasn't entirely sure what it was, he had never felt something like that, at least not for a long time.

Little whines escaped from his chest, and all he could think about was the scent that was missing. The voice that was missing, the person who was missing.

You. You were missing, his little Omega who was oh so good when he had you. Who was oh so patient with him, the little Omega who gave him love. He didn't want anything short of you, even a little pup or two. Make yourself a pack, create a life with you.

And the only thing Simon could think about was getting back to you. It eventually turned into trying to think about how he would explain everything to you, how he would tell you everything. Give you an explanation, no matter the hoops he would have to jump through.

You deserved it.

Next

Taglist:

@sae1kie @shinebright2000 @zechie-spams @itsmadamehydra @smiley-roos @enrapturedbythemoon @stargatenovus @cowboydisaster @404lunar

(I definitely forgot to add the taglist for my initial post, but I added it only minutes after posting)

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

86&76 w shane 86&76 w shane 86&76 W SHANE- -galaxy

PERFECT angst for his six-heart event (sorry not sorry, kids)

76) "You're not alone"

86) "Don't be scared, I'm right here"

.......

You don't know why, but your gut was calling you to Cindersap Forest this morning.

Something was wrong with Shane, it told you, and you had to check on him.

The heavy rain and occasional rumbles of thunder were of no deterrence to you as you grabbed your jacket and slipped on your boots, ensuring barn and coop were closed up tight before leaving your farmland.

First you headed to Marnie's ranch, hoping that you were just becoming paranoid for no reason at all. For all you knew, he could just be hanging out in the kitchen, with his aunt at the shop counter and his goddaughter playing in her room.

It could just be a normal rainy day.

Yet the moment you entered, you saw the two ladies there, their expressions looking rather grim...and Shane nowhere to be found.

Of course, you remember how tense things were between the three of them. Only a week ago, you walked in on Marnie urging you to help Shane, who was passed out on the floor, requiring the use of your watering can to wake him up.

His mental health had sunken low, to the point where he accidentally said something in front of Jas that had you genuinely concerned for his well-being:

"Hopefully I won't be around long enough to need a "plan"."

After she ran out of the room in tears, you were left trying to pick up the broken pieces that made up Shane...as he fell apart and began crying himself, feeling so incredibly guilty for allowing her to hear such a terrible thing come from his mouth.

A selfish, selfish thing..from the person her parents entrusted her to.

In the following days, everyone acted like nothing ever happened, but you could still feel that heaviness in the air every time you entered the ranch to shop.

And it's clear that Shane was spiraling, doing more to hide it despite it being clearly visible to you.

He drank more heavily at the saloon (becoming the first and last customer to leave), barely noticed you on his way to work in the mornings, and the letters he sent to you had sloppier handwriting.

On the days he was off, Marnie would tell you he was sleeping, so you wouldn't think to disturb him.

Even so, it was worrying, and today you wanted to check up on him around the time he got ready to leave for JojaMart. Maybe you could convince him to talk to somebody..

But now you knew something was seriously wrong from the moment you saw his family members' faces.

"Is Shane here?" You frowned slightly, looking around. "Usually he's heading to work around this time."

"Th-That's the thing, Farmer..um..he's not here, or at JojaMart." Marnie spoke up, looking rather anxious herself. "Morris called up the shop and gave me quite an earful, saying that never showed up to his shift today. I checked his room, but..he was gone. He emptied all the beers out of his fridge and-"

"He left this..it was in the trash." Jas approached you, teary eyed as she handed you a heavily crumpled paper.

Seeing that alone filled your heart with immense dread, but you took it anyways and did your best to smooth it out. You tried to convince yourself it was one of his many drafted letters to you he just tossed out.

It wasn't.

It was short.

Yet it made you worst fear come true.

"Farmer & Marnie, I'm sorry, but I'm done being a burden on you all. Don't look for me. Don't blame yourself. It's not your fault. Tell Jas I'm in a better place now."

There was no signature at the end, but it didn't take a genius to know who this was.

"Where's Uncle Shane? Why would he write this and disappear??"Jas began to sob a little, clearly terrified. "Please..you have to find him, Farmer! You have to!"

It took you a moment to find your voice, still reeling from the horror of this note and whether you could actually find him in time--as you didn't know how long ago he even wrote this--but you knew you had to..

Before he did something stupid.

"I will. I promise." You hugged her for a few moments, looking to Marnie. "I think it's better if I go alone."

"O-Okay.." She nodded, watching as Jas let you go and returned to her side. "Be careful out there. I'd hate for him to get caught up in this nasty storm.."

..........

'This wind..oh my Yoba..'

Clinging to the hood that kept slipping off your head, you headed deeper into Cindersap Forest, your gut instincts once again telling you that Shane was around here somewhere.

You didn't know why they'd point you this far inward, but you followed them through and through..

Until they turned out to be correct, as by the cliffside, you came out into a small clearing with beer cans strung out across the grass...as well as somebody familiar laying among them.

It was Shane, the man you were looking for all morning, facedown in the dirt.

At first you were relieved to find him, being careful not to slip as you approached him, but then you began to wonder what happened to him and why he wasn't moving.

Did he pass out again? Or...were you in fact much too late to help him?

God, you pray he didn't drink himself to death here.

Before your mind could fully freak out, you saw him stirring at last, lifting his head up to see you kneeling beside him in the wet grass. And all you saw as you removed your hood...was someone who had truly hit rock bottom.

What was he planning to do all the way out here?

"Farmer..." He finally murmured.

"Shane-" You started, yet he cut you off with a loud sniffle, followed by a drunken hiccup.

"I..I'm sorry," his words were heavily slurred. "M..My life. It's a pathetic joke. Look at me, why do I even try?" A small sob came from him, causing his entire body to shudder. "I'm too small and stupid to...to take control of my life. I'm just a p..piece of soiled garbage fluttering in the wind.."

"That's not true, Shane." You gently rested a hand on his back, feeling it heave with every other sob he let out. "Come on, it's not safe here. We should get you back home."

However, you attempts to tug on his Joja jacket's hood failed, as he didn't even budge.

"I've been coming here often lately..looking down." He continued, as though not hearing you. "Here's a chance to finally take control of my life....these cliffs..."

"...so that's why you're here.." Your voice trembled a bit, your heart breaking more for this man who was just starting to open up to you--and now contemplated jumping down into the sharp rocks and waves below, thinking nobody would notice or find him. "You know, I saw your note."

"You...did..?" He mumbled. "How did..you know where to..?"

"Gut feeling." You simply answered, deciding it was better not to tell him that Jas found the note. You didn't wanna make him feel any worse than he already did. "Is this..what you really wanna do? This is how you wanna go out?"

"I....I-I don't know anymore. I should'a done it, but..." Shane buried his face into his arms. "I'm too scared, too anxious...just like always."

"Shane, I'm glad you didn't go through with it. You can't-"

"Can't what? D..Decide what I wanna do with my existence now? It's a waste..you'll forget me s...s-soon enough. You..never should'a looked for me-"

"But-"

"Farmer, all I do is work, sleep, and drink t...to dull the feelings of self-hatred. Why should I even go on?"

"Shane-"

"Tell me..." Looking up at you, you could see his reddened face, the raindrops mixing with the tears that stained his cheeks. "T...Tell me why I shouldn't roll off this cliff right now!" He snapped, part of him frustrated that you were here, ruining his "plan".

But at the same time..he was relieved you were here, talking to him, giving him a chance to reconsider what he was about to do.

You're the only real friend he had in this town. The only one who came looking for him, yet it also made him shitty, knowing you had to see him like this.

It was bad enough when he made Jas cry when all you wanted to do was buy hay for your animals. You never should've had to deal with him or his family drama.

You never should have seen that note. He didn't want you to find it. He didn't want you to find him.

You should've been taking care of your farm and fixing up that old community center, not stand here in the cold pouring rain and see what a mess he's become.

It would've been better for you and everyone else if he just-

"That decision is your own, but..just know that I'm here for you."

He blinked, finding your response to be most unexpected.

He thought you'd tell him how selfish and horrible he was for "abandoning" Jas, or claim there was "so much" to live for when he just got done telling you he felt like there was nothing left for him in this world...or scornfully remark that throwing his life away was a "sin" in the eyes of a god he never believed him.

Anyone else in town would've told him off.

But not you.

You're different. You understood him better than anyone. Even better than the town doctor who never came even remotely close to chipping away at the walls he built up.

Maybe..

You're worth sticking around for. If not anybody else.

"T-Thanks..I appreciate that." He mumbled, laying his head back down. "Really, I do.."

"Of course, Shane." You continued rubbing his back comfortingly, feeling the rain lightening up. "You're not alone, even though it might feel that way."

"...you're..so stubborn, y'know?"

"Hm?"

"All I've done was..t..treat you like shit. But you still wanna be my friend..wha...what have I ever done to deserve that? How can you see me like this..and...and not think of me as some drunken, weak coward?"

"Because you're not your bad habits."

"...buh?" He slowly blinked at you, looking utterly confused.

"What I mean is..you're so much more than just the "town drunk". I know you love caring for chickens. You always ask Emily how she's doing at the saloon and distract her from Clint's..uh..weirdness." You awkwardly chuckled. "And you love pissing off Morris by sneaking me free food. Shows you're quite the rebel yourself, just like Sam. Plus, you were nicer than Haley was when I first moved to town. You never insulted my looks or my work. I was honestly more scared of her at the time."

"Really..?"

"Really." You repeated, smiling. Although you felt like his clouded mind didn't catch half the stuff you were saying, you wanted him to least hear it....even if he were to forget about it tomorrow. "And the fact that you hesitate to go through with this plan...it shows strength. It shows that just the tiniest part of you doesn't wanna leave just yet..and it's okay to admit that. It's not weak at all."

"....right..you've..convinced me how stupid this is.." He mumbled, slowly picking himself up off the ground, coming to a kneeling position. Then he stared back at you, half of his jacket slipping off his shoulder, eyes tinted red and puffy as his hair clung to his skin. You could tell he was having a hard time keeping himself steady.

"Farmer?"

"Yes, Shane?"

"...I think you should take me to the hospital."

A moment later, he slumped into your arms, startling you. But you were quick to keep ahold of him and help him to his feet, slinging his arm around your shoulders to support him better.

Even though the storm had eased up at this point, Shane still felt like there was a dark cloud of shame over his head--and eventually he felt a burning pain in his abdomen, groaning as he clutched it tightly, nearly collapsing again.

"Woah--easy, I got you..what's wrong?" You asked in worry.

"M-My stomach..it's...god...I had too much...t-too much.." He shuddered, squeezing his eyes shut. "I'm scared..what if I don't make it? What if this is my body-?"

"Don't be scared, I'm right here. You're gonna be okay. We'll get to Harvey, and he'll take good care of you." You consoled him, letting him lean on you as much as he wanted..even though the extra weight brought on by both of your soggy clothes didn't help much.

But right now, you didn't care about any of that.

Getting Shane as far away from those cliffs as possible was all that mattered.

[hotchlove]

Trustworthy | Reader X Aaron Hotchner

hi!!! welcome to my first one-shot fanfic :) i had a blast writing this and hope u'll have even more fun reading it.

• i take requests! plsss dm me or leave them here if u have anything fun you'd like me to write. it can be angst, anytype of trope, smut, etc. • PLZ NOTE: i ONLY do oneshots. they differ from long to short depending on the character and story. i do not write series! • trustworthy - 3.1k+ words (i got carried away D:) • desc.: - quite a bit of angst - probable inaccurate description of readers job - happy ending ♡

• • • • ~ ʚĭɞ ~ • • • • ~ ʚĭɞ ~• • • • ~ ʚĭɞ ~• • • • ~ ʚĭɞ ~ • • • •

it's been about five or six months since i've joined the behavioral analysis unit in the fbi. it's not like i've been counting the days...

who am i kidding? it's been exactly 191 days - whereas like 2 of those days my boss, SSA Aaron Hotchner, was actually nice to me.

those being my first two shifts.

on the third day, i had to make a spontaneous choice whilst on a case - one that, sure, was reckless and stupid and to quote hotch "unprofessional", but i managed to save many unpredictable lives with that choice.

we were on a case in miami, a state the team hasn't visited yet up until that day.

it was a 3h flight but it was a big case, so those hours flew on by as garcia briefed us. a 36 year old mother recently lost her teenage child to the hands of a drunk and supposedly has had hallucinations of her late child telling her to kill other kids, as revenge, i'm guessing - spooky, right?

i suggested manic schizophrenia - clear symptoms and obvious manic signs (the killings). that suggestion kind of cleared the foggy air on the jet. hotch gave me a nod of approval and i felt pretty damn proud of myself, it was only my third day after all.

on the third and last day, we finally cornered the woman on a traffic free highway. she had no where to run, agents were surrounded all around her - but she was holding a shotgun. the simple way out would've been having one of our federal snipers shoot her - but i couldn't let that happen. she killed the children of many, and letting her die a painless and simple death just didn't feel right.

i swatted the snipers away, the red laser that was planted on her forehead now gone. i throw my gun on the floor and pretend to surrender, hands up. "you remind me of my mother." i tell her, my arms up.

"Y/N." hotch warns me. his eyebrows furrow as he sees me now weaponless, basically staring the shotgun in it's eyes. i don't turn to him, i don't even acknowledge him. "she tried so hard to protect me." i say and walk tiny steps towards the woman, who now walks backwards to avoid me.

"stop! one more move and i-i'll shoot." no she won't. "she basically devoted her life to making sure i remain scratchless and pure." i chuckle.

"well, look how that turned out. i've got scars all over my body and a fun memory to come with all of them." i get even closer to her. "i know how you feel. i know how much you miss him." the woman cries and nods.

"i do. i really do. what did i do wrong?!" she yells and she points the shotgun at me. "i protected him like he was made out of glass, whilst other mothers - bad ones - let their kids wander everywhere alone."

hotch jumps a little seeing the woman point her hefty gun at me. "Y/N. move." he warns, his tone as stern as his expression.

i shake my head but don't look back. "other mothers - bad ones - still have their kids. and mine," her tears fall. "my baby boy got swept off his feet the only time - an exception - when he got to walk home alone from school." she cries.

"you're right. you did everything right," i reassure her and walk even closer, only 10 meters standing between me and the shotgun barrel.

"except you forgot one thing," i scoff. "teaching him to grow the fuck up."

bang.

the gun drops to the floor shortly after she shoots. morgan runs towards her, putting the metal cuffs on her wrist. he reads her rights and takes her to the sheriffs wagon that was parked just 2 minutes away.

the bullet didn't hit me - she had no idea how to take an accurate shot. god, she barely even held that shotgun - the weight of it almost holding her instead of the other way around.

"agent Y/L/N!" hotch runs towards me, i pick myself up. "we got he-" i get interrupted by him. "what is wrong with you?!" he yells.

"are you actually insane? i gave you a direct order to move. do you think of me as a fool?" he yells, his voice basically growling.

"excuse me? i just basically handed her to you." i say, offended he's yelling at me for doing my job. "and in the process you almost got your head blown off." he's even angrier as i talk back.

"head blown off?" i scoff. "hotch, the woman couldn't even hit a giant red target if she tried. it was a risk i had to ta-" he interrupts me again.

"no- no, agent. it wasn't. you put your life on the line to appear macho infront of everyone here." he puts his pistol in it's holder and crosses his arms, taking slow but sure steps towards me. "you took control of the case like you're a veteran - but actually, you're just a rookie that will probably quit in the span of 2 months because you'll realise you can't do this." he growls again. that one hurt. "badge and gun. you're flying back to quantico tonight. i'll put in a request for a two week suspension as soon as i am back." he holds out his hand, waiting for me to hand him my gun and badge. my eyebrows furrow. "what?" my mouth parts - speechless. "you can't be serious." i say, unsure if he is. he's silent for an entire minute.

so he is serious. i give in - i have to, he's my boss, so i hand him my badge and my gun. without saying anything, i walk away. leaving the crime scene, wasn't authorized to be there anymore anyway. and ever since that day, 188 days ago, aaron hotchner has got it in for me.

--

everyones sitting in the briefing room except me and garcia. i walk in 2 minutes late and excuse myself, "sorry, lost track of time." JJ nods and hotch says "you own a watch, don't you, agent?" his angry expression once again tainting his face.

god i'd pay a ridiculous amount of money to punch him just once. "yes, sir. will not happen again." i reassure.

no one calls hotch sir except me. it's kind of a unspoken rule - the others are close to him, which i am not. which i will probably never be, considering he still judges my mistake as a way to not trust me with anything.

garcia walks in just a minute after me "sorry, guys, kevin was blabbing and blabbing and i could not get him to shut up." she says and smiles awkwardly. "it's fine" hotch says. "everyone's allowed to be late - once." he raises an eyebrow and looks at me.

just one punch.

JJ briefs us on the case and tells us the local police department doesn't want us there - so she's going to have to convince them, which can take a day or two. i don't mind - i was honestly not in the mood for a flight today. everyone goes back to their every day business. files, reports, coffee and smalltalk in the kitchen - or for morgan and garcia, friendly flirting in her office.

me and spencer are both stirring a fresh cup of good ol' joe in the kitchen, talking - or well, he's talking - about some new physics crap. i just nod and pretend i understand.

the color of the beige wall behind him looks particularly interesting today. he keeps explaining and suddenly goes "BOOM!" his hands wide and i jump a little at the noise - spilling coffee all over my pink blouse. i look at him annoyed, "oh my god. i will murder you." he can't contain his laugh and bursts, "i was just demonstrating!" then goes running out of the kitchen before i can get to him. i sigh and look at my now brown blouse - this would be awfully devastating if i didn't have a go-bag. i place my almost empty mug in the kitchen sink and head towards my tabe - emily giving me a curious stare. "what happened to you?" she scoffs, "physics." i reply and take my go-bag, fishing out the only blouse i have - a white one.

emily just nods at my remark and goes back to her file as if it was the most normal thing ever. considering it's me - it probably was. i change in the ladies room and scrunch my coffee splattered blouse into a ball. standing infront of my mirror i realise how see-through this blouse is - especially with a pink bra that i wore just for the pink blouse. "you have got to be kidding me." my eyes widen. it's really not that bad, but it's noticeable. so noticeable HR might force us all into a "appropriate clothing" seminar tomorrow. i really don't have much of a choice so i walk out like that, hoping or praying no one notices. my hope is diminished when i meet garcia in the bullpen, holding her palm to her hand so she doesn't burst out laughing. "not a word, garcia." i look at her, my eyes shooting arrows. thank god for kevin, as he comes and pecks her lips, her surpressed laughter now gone like the wind. saved by the bell. or well, by a kiss. i sit down at my table and keep working on my reports - if i slouch down enough you really can't see it. i'm a great problem solver. a rough, deep voice calls my name from a distance, "agent Y/L/N, my office, please." hotch says standing in his doorway. my head drops in defeat - i really have no luck today. i grab the file i was working on and hold it on my chest, basically hugging it - it makes me look weird but not weirder than having my pink bra open for everyones eyes. i stand infront of his door, mumbling to myself about how i hate my life and knock twice. "come in" hotch says, his eyes glued to his computer. "sir. you wanted to see me?" he nods and tells me to sit down, still not looking up. and so i do, i sit down and keep hugging my file like it's gonna grow legs and walk away. he finally raises his head and looks at me. his eyebrows furrow at the sight of me holding for dear life on the file, "is that for me?" he asks. "huh?" the file. "oh, no- i just really like this file." i smile awkwardly and his mouth parts as if he wanted to say something more, but he doesn't. the embarassement i'm feeling right now could wash half the population off of the earth. "you're gonna have to be transfered to a different unit." he says and coughs, his throat sounding almost dry as he barely speaks that sentence. my eyes widen to 3x their size, "what? but i didn't do-" i take a breath. "i didn't do anything wrong? you're just gonna transfer me? just like this? wh- i don't get it." i rise from my seat not realising i let my file drop. he stares at my chest and then back to my eyes like 10 times till i realise. i heastily grab the file again, sit back down and cover my chest back up, "i spilled coffee on my other blouse." i explain. hotch sighs, "it wasn't my decision. strauss wants you gone." he coughs again. "i tried to convince her, agent." i scoff. sure he did. he was probably the first one to agree to the transfer. "you're joking, right?" i stand up once again, file still in my embrace. "i know you want me gone. i just know you were the first one to agree with strauss decision." i raise my voice slightly. "wanting me gone is one thing, so is transferring me - but lying about it? you're pathetic." hotch's eyebrows furrow. he doesn't seem angry, he just seems.. apologetic? "agent, listen to m-" this time i interrupt him, "i'm done listening," i drop the file on his table "here. it's yours now." i exit his office but notice in my peripheral vision that he stood up, as if wanting to follow me. all eyes are on me and how i storm to my desk, either that or my pink bra. but i don't care. i grab my bag and jacket, my files still scattered around my desk - but they're not mine anymore, so why should i care? "Agent Y/L/N." hotch calls and exits his office, i ignore him and just keep walking. "Y/N." he calls me by my first name now. i notice the elevator is about to leave so i ask the person in it to hold it, a hand splitting the doors as i manage to walk in just in time, aaron standing 10 feet away looking defeated. --

i took a cold shower as soon as i got home to calm my nerves. didn't help much but pretending it did helps. got myself dressed in a large shirt and some raggedy pyjama pants and poured myself a glass of red wine. then another one. i'm reliving today in my thoughts - why did i get fired from the bau? and why did aaron - sorry, hotch - lie? everyone knows he despises me and wanted me gone as soon as possible, and he did so, why lie then? i gulp down another sip of wine and hear a knock at my door. if this isn't the chinese food i ordered i'll be heavily disappointed. i open the door without checking who it is and see hotch standing infront of my apartment door, the arms of his dress shirt folded up to his elbows and his jacket held on his shoulder by his hand. he looks pissed. like always but worse. "what are you doing here? i don't need to transfer to another apartment, do i?" i mock him and cross my arms. "can i come in?" he asks with a stern expression. "why?" i look at him, awaiting an explanation. i'm not just gonna let my asshole boss into my apartment with no plausible reason. "we need to talk. please." his expression changes and my heart breaks a little. i don't know why. i hate him. he's rude and selfish and made me doubt my career. but i let him in anyways. i take a seat on a bar stool at my kitchen island, sipping on my red wine waiting for him to say what he has to say. "i didn't request your transfer. i didn't agree with strauss either." i scoff but he keeps talking before i can, "but i couldn't disagree either." i knew it. god this motherf- "you got offered a unit chief position." he says and my eyes widen. "it's gonna be great for your career. it's a better pay and everything." he walks towards me and chuckles, "you'd be in a higher department than me, and that within just 6 months of working at the fbi." my eyebrows furrow, he better not be playing with me because i'm believing every second of it. "i didn't want you gone. you're an amazing agent and we," he gulps. "i was so lucky to have you. but i can't deny you a promotion out of my own selfish reasons." my mouth parts as i inhale a small breath. this is.. unexpected, to say the least. "hotch, i'm so sorry for going off at you like that." he shakes his head, "don't apologise. i know how i've been treating you and it was unfair. and totally unprofessional." he takes small steps towards me, stopping just infront of me. he swipes a strand of hair behind my ear and my body freezes - his warm fingers slightly touching my ear, his gaze so soft. i've never seen him so vulnerable before. "i care for you. and even though i handled it poorly, i thought i'd lose you on just your third day." he exhales and his arms now cross. "i couldn't let that happen. so ever since, i thought going hard on you would cause you to be more careful, less reckless." his head drops and his eyebrows furrow. "i know it was selfish, and god did i hate seeing you on the verge of tears everytime i had to discipline you." he looks me straight in the eyes, they no longer shoot fire arrows, they shoot soft looks and quick smiles as his mouth curls a little. "i'm sorry, Y/N. and i hope you'll find it in your heart to forgive me." he closes his eyes and leans forward, placing a kiss on my cheek. i stand there, still frozen. i don't manage to say anything but i notice him moving. leaving. he grabs his jacket and twists the doorknob on my door without a word. "wait -" i manage to blurt out and he turns around, surprised. i walk towards him in a very quick manner, basically sprinting. if me two hours ago was put in this position, i'd finally take swing at the punch i've been begging for. but i don't. instead, i cup his cheeks in my hands and kiss him.

he doesn't react at first, the kiss starting slow, but then he grips at my waist tightly and pulls me towards him. he grins into the kiss and it feels like he just wants to eat me whole. he's greedy, unwilling to share, like he's wanted this for a while. i break the kiss so i can take a couple of breaths, he doesn't let go of my waist and looks me in the eyes. "i'm really sorry" his thumb carressing my left cheek. "you've said that."

"not enough." his lips land on mine again, this kiss shorter, more like a peck. his strong arms embrace me and my head lays on his broad chest. "isn't this unprofessional? a boss and his subordinate?" i ask as he hugs me tightly, "you're not my subordinate anymore, though, uniet chef Y/L/N." i chuckle into his embrace and pull myself away from him, looking into his eyes. "what if i don't take the job?" his eyebrows furrow and he shakes his head, "you have to, it's an amazing offer." i shrug and look up at the ceiling. "maybe. i kinda like my current work place though, i'd be willing to go back. unless of course my snarky boss won't take me." i grin playfully and he kisses my forehead. "monday 8:00 o'clock. don't be late this time."

[odusseus-xvi]

(Disclaimer : I'm not saying either side is right or wrong, I do think both BBH's and Forever's side has good and bad points, and ultimately it's both rp, and I just wanna see some drama so I don't care who's right or not. Dont @ me)

I was finishing Antoine's vod, and at the end of it he's talking with BebouBoyHalo, and though it was an offhand comment it made my laugh with what happened later that night and what we are all excpecting. BBH joked that he didn't know he lost the election and Antoine went immediatly "Yeah no, Forever won. BUT you can always overthrow him !"

Like no kidding the french are waiting for Forever to do the slightest mistake to jump on him, they are 2 steps away from actual revolution. And honestly if it does happen, OH THE ANGST !! THE ANGST !! Because I know Etoiles will certainly be on side revolution, he felt betrayed by the islanders when he received that little votes AND he will always side with BBH, as he is one of the only ones seeing this demon's actual power (for those who wouldn't know Etoiles has HUGE respect for Bad and considers him the strongest of the island. And he's been waiting for him to show that to the others), that'll either strenghten how the island views him (a warrior), or play into the thing he didn't want, the people will start to fear him. Baghz will almost certainly side with the revolution as she was anti election since day one. Oh and if she does... OHOH The break up of the siblings will TEAR MY HEART APART (I'm waiting for that). And then Antoine, who's very much anti presidency and was wary of both Forever and Cellbit since day one. Though he would be part of the revolution if you gave him a choice, I don't see him doing much about it. But we can be suprised I suppose.

The only french I have no idea how he would react is Aypierre. And THAT is what scares me the most. Because Etoiles and BBH can be as strong as they are, Aypierre knows minecraft mechanics and server inworkings like his backpocket and can kill pretty much anything if people let him do his thing. He is a federation blindspot. But we also know that he is the definition of Opportunist. He could side with either side. (I could even see a change of side from him multiple times, he is the definition of unpredictable when it comes to these things.)

Anyway, can you see how hype I would be for a revolution arc ?!!! (not it's not because I'm french. Well maybe a little...)

(The only thing that makes me dread it is this part of the fandom that would immeciatly jump on BBH, Baghera and Etoiles for "bEtRayInG" Forever, not understanding it is rp. But let's hope they do understand.)

(And again this is in no way saying who is right or wrong, this is just me seeing the tension rise up in the povs I watch and getting exxcited with what could come out of it.)

[envirae]

you're losing me — jay park

pairing: idol!jay x reader genre: angst wc: 1.1k warnings: intentional lowercase cursing, toxic relationship, jay is a horrible bf, not proofread

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as an idol, jay's line of work simply did not allow for a "normal" relationship. his company didn't really care if he dated or not, as long as he was incredibly smart about it. which he was, sometimes.

you were one of jay's classmates at hanlim, and from his first day there, you had caught his eye. the stolen glances from across the room, his not-so-subtle attempts to sit next to you in class, and his even more obvious attempts to constantly make you laugh.

it was no surprise when jay confessed his feelings to you the day of graduation.

when you decided to accept his feelings, you knew exactly what you were getting into. a part of you even knew it was doomed from the start. but when you looked into jay's eyes and felt an overwhelming sense of home, you just felt you had to try. 

and he was perfect, at least in the beginning. he tried his best to see you often, even if you two couldn't go out on dates like normal. he made it clear that he would always put his career first, and you respected that. you told him you would always be there to support him, even if it hurt you a little.

and then, about two years into your relationship, you noticed a shift. he used to spend nights sneaking out just to see you, but some nights you were struggling to even get a goodnight text from him. he used to hold you in his arms for hours, but now it felt like you were always waiting on him.

you tried your best to make it clear to him how you were feeling, yet he always brushed it off as you being overdramatic. not wanting to cause more problems, you believed him.

one particular night, jay texts you around 8 pm, asking you to come to the dorm. you were too excited about the fact that he wanted to see you to notice that he didn't want to come over to you, or even offer to pick you up.

and when you get there, he lets you in before rushing straight out the door, telling you, "not to go anywhere," and that "i'll be right back."

you sit on the couch, feeling awkward and out of place. you make small talk with some of the boys for a bit, and you don't miss the look of pity on heeseung's face.

when jay finally returns, it's past midnight. he opens the door and puts his things down before taking his seat next to you. you can't believe that you actually waited 4 hours for him, and that he doesn't even have the nerve to apologize.

you would say it's hard to believe he would do something like this, but this wasn't even the first time. were you really okay with just forgiving him each and every time? and you had put up with it countless times before, but you were slipping through his fingers.

"are you kidding me, jay?" you breathe out, trying not to sound angry, although you very much are.

he's caught off guard, but he simply raises a brow and responds, "what do you want me to say? i forgot something at work."

"and that took you four hours? do you really expect me to believe that?" you were baffled by his shamelessness, but both of you had too much pride to back down at this point.

“yes, i do. you don't think i'm lying, do you? i didn't mean for it to take so long, but once i was there i just got caught up. i don’t understand why you're being like this, y/n.” he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

 “i know you don’t understand, jay. because you never listen to me! you never even try!" your voice was shaky, and you could hardly get your words out without tearing up.

jay looked at you in disbelief, as if you had just said the most outrageous statement to him. "ok, so what exactly do you want me to do about it, y/n?"

"just do something, jay, anything! show me that you're in this like i'm in this. it feels like you're fighting with me, not for me." you choked out through tears.

"so what, you're saying that i don't care about you? i'm just the worst boyfriend in the world? you know my work is difficult i just-"

"i don't give a fuck about your work, jay! i have stood back and taken all of your shit for two years, and i never said a word about it. i know you're capable of loving me properly, so why don't you? why do you keep ignoring me? i'm right here, jay." you cut him off. his expression was blank, and you knew there was really no point in trying to voice your feelings when he just didn't care. "i just want you to choose me."

it felt like a knife was being twisted in your chest. what are you supposed to do when the person who your heart beats for is now the same person shattering it into pieces?

"i can't do that for you, y/n. i just can't give you what you want from me." he stood there, watching you cry.

you couldn't believe it. how could he claim to love you but be perfectly okay with watching you cry in front of him?

"then i'm done, jay. i'm not gonna wait around for you anymore." he nodded.

"if this is what you want, i'm okay with it." he said, disappointed. you knew it was bullshit. you knew he didn't care about what you wanted. what you really wanted was him, but there was no point in telling him that anymore.

you got up to leave and decided to look at him one last time. he was the same person who brought you flowers once a week and told you that you were the prettiest girl he had ever seen. and now, you didn't know a single thing that was going through his head.

"i'm sorry, jay. that this didn't work out."

he nodded and walked away before you were even out the door. he didn't even care enough to watch you leave. your chest felt heavy as you left the dorm. the moment you closed the door behind you, you collapsed to your knees sobbing.

you knew that jay hadn't really been in the relationship for months, but you couldn't believe it was really over. you had given him everything, and you weren't really sure who you were without him. but it was over, and there was nothing you could do about it.

what you couldn't stop thinking about, though, was that in the end, you were still the one apologizing.

taglist (open): @misokei @nhularin @girlokarina @jaeyunsimswife @hanienie

[winchester-girl67]

Wild Hearts (Part 7) - Ten Years After Dean Came Back

Summary: Dean and Y/N attend a session of couples' counselling with Dr. Garth Fitzgerald. They struggle with Y/N's infertility and make a final decision about the future of their family together.

Masterlist

Pairing: AU!Dean x reader 

Word Count: 2,668 

Warnings: age gap (reader is 32, Dean is 37), infertility, couples' therapy, adoption, relationship angst, mentions of physical abuse by a parent, language, angst, fluff 

A/N: After many rewrites and some creative differences with the characters in this series, we’ve come to the last part. 

_____ 

Ten years after Dean came back. 

"And how does that make you feel, Y/N?" The skinny man asked from his chair placed next to the couch. 

He wore a tweed suit and you thought he looked more like a college professor than a couples' therapist. He had a notebook in his hands and jotted down notes every time either of you spoke. 

"I don't know, not good." You shrugged. 

"Mhm," he jotted down more notes, "I see." 

It was your first appointment and Dean had yet to speak up for any of the questions. He told you there was no point in going since he still loved you and you still loved him. He made it sound so simple, but it was more complicated than that. And he knew you needed to talk it through, so here he was supporting you and holding your hand; you couldn't ask for more. 

"And, Dean, how do you feel about it?" Mr. Fitzgerald asked. 

Dean scrubbed his free hand over his mouth and chin as he side eyed you. Mr. Fitzgerald, or Garth as he told you to call him, hadn't directed any questions towards Dean until now. Dean didn't seem too happy about it, but refused to let that show in the way he looked at you. All you saw was love. 

"I'm okay with it," Dean said, still looking at you. 

"How can you be okay with it?" You asked, scrunching your forehead. 

"Because I love you, this doesn't change anything between us." He said with a shake of his head. "It doesn't change the way I feel about you or the fact that I still want to spend the rest of my life with you. I need you here with me. I can't do any of it without you."

"Yes, you can." You said. 

"I don't want to." 

Garth stayed silent while he listened and jotted down notes. He was a nice guy but hadn't said anything helpful yet. Maybe couples therapy was about opening the conversation more than actual advice or guidance. Maybe he just worked as a buffer and had you guys find your own way through. 

"Everything's different now, Dean." 

"No."

"You're the one that had our future planned out; two kids, one boy, one girl, a white picket fence, a big yard, and a dog. You even hung a tire swing and started building a treehouse, for fuck's sake." Your chin started to tremble and you took a breath. "Dean, you want kids and I want you to have them but it's not going to happen with me. I'm broken, my body's broken." 

After four years of trying to get pregnant and the endless testing and trials, you were spent. Your body was spent and you couldn't remember the last time sex felt like it was supposed to. It felt clinical now like you were running through a maze for a piece of cheese. You tried almost everything, there were calendars and ovulation sticks, hormone injections, temperature readings, wedge pillows, and you were sick of it all. 

You couldn't imagine it felt any different for Dean either. Your sex life was present but unaccounted for. 

"I love you." Said Dean. 

He wiped your cheeks dry from the tears streaming down them and kissed your forehead. It didn't matter how many times you'd snapped at him over the past four years with your hormones in overdrive, you couldn't push him away if you tried. And you had tried. 

That was one reason why you wanted to go to therapy, you wanted to come to terms with your infertility and let it go. You wanted to stop the hormone treatments and stop feeling the way you were. You wanted to feel like yourself again. 

"Y/N, did you hear what Dean just said?" Garth asked when he saw you had calmed down. Dean clutched your hand in his and gave it a squeeze. You shook your head. "He said, he loves you, do you believe that?" 

"Yes," you knew he did. 

That was something you never had to worry about with Dean. He let you know in more ways than one and you never questioned it. Hell, he supported you through the trials for this long because he knew it was what you wanted. He saw the toll it took on you and wanted to stop a long time ago, but you weren't ready to make your peace with it, with your body. Until now, you hoped. 

"So then why are you pushing him away?" Garth asked, resting his pen on his notebook and giving you his full attention. "Do you think that's what he wants? That it'll make him happy to find someone else who can bear his children?" 

"Maybe," you shrugged and refused to meet Dean's hurt stare. 

Dean shook his head. "Y/N, I love you." He whispered, he had been saying that a lot lately. Like he knew it wasn't sinking in. 

"And, Dean, when you tell Y/N that you love her, is that what you mean? Or are you trying to tell her something else that you can't find the words to say?" Garth asked and Dean cleared his throat and nodded. "What are you trying to tell her?" 

Dean thought for a long moment, "The future I planned for us, I don't want that with anyone else." 

"But we won't have it either," you said. 

"I've made my peace with that and we're here so you can too." He rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb. His green eyes pleading with you like he still tried to convince you of everything he felt and hadn't been able to communicate. 

"It's not fair, I wanted a family too. I never thought I would this badly, but I do. With you, I do." You sniffled, "It's not fair. The one thing I'm supposed to be able to do and I can't." 

"We still can." 

"How? I can't get pregnant, Dean, and I can't keep taking those hormones. My mood swings are all over the map with them and it's not working."

"We stop trying." 

"What?" You frowned, "I don't understand, how can we have a family if I can't get pregnant? We can't afford a surrogate, Dean." 

"Making a baby doesn't make you its parent, Y/N, trust me I know. My father might've played a very short hand in creating me but he was never a dad, he was never there for me, he never cared, he never loved me or Sammy." 

"Speaking of unfair, how can a man like that make two kids and I can't even begin to form one? Ugh!" You sighed exasperatedly and fell back against the couch feeling defeated. 

Dean smiled at your little tantrum and you wondered how he was able to do that. Find levity in the difficult parts of life. But that was his motto, something like: if you don't laugh, you cry. And for a moment, you saw him with a younger face, a bruised eye and a split lip. Smiling at you under the streetlamp with ice cream on his nose. That was almost seventeen years ago now. 

You were finally voicing your disappointment at the cards you had been dealt and that was a step at healing. You tried for so long to be strong and composed but Dean always saw right through it. He hated seeing you hurt, but it was hard to come to terms with the fact that your body could never do what you wanted it to, it was less hard for him; even if the struggle was the same. 

You had to live in your mind and listen to the little voice that called you broken. Dean just had to watch. Although, now that you thought about it, watching someone in pain could be just as painful. Especially when they refused your help and pushed you away. 

You silently promised him you would never do that again. 

"I love you, Dean." You squeezed his hand. 

You were endlessly thankful to have him around to pull you out of your funk. You tried to smile back at him as you sat up. 

"Can I interject here," Garth smiled, "I think Dean's talking about adoption. Sometimes a family you choose has stronger bonds than ones you make. You run that youth group, right, Y/N? So you of all people should know that there are many children out there that wish they could have parents that want them as badly as you and Dean want a child. At least look into it, if that's something you'd be willing to do." 

"Do you want to adopt?" You asked Dean, he'd never mentioned it before. 

"I looked into it after we found out conceiving would be difficult and again after your last round of hormone therapy. I kind of put our names on this list because it can take a long time to be selected." He confessed and quickly added, "I wanted us to have options and I'm completely fine with not having kids either. We could just be the cool Aunt and Uncle to Sammy and Jess' twins. I'd be alright with that as long as you're the one I'm growing old with. I want you in that rocking chair beside me on the porch and I'll tear down that white picket fence when we get home." 

“No, don’t do that... maybe we could paint it though.” You shrugged. 

"I like the way you think, sweetheart." Dean chuckled with a little smirk. 

Garth looked at the clock on the wall and clapped his hands together, "Well, I think that was an excellent session and I've got a bit of homework for you. Y/N, I think it would be healthy for you to look into adoption with Dean, exhaust all of your options together before you commit to a decision about your future. And, Dean, I want you to try talking about how you’re feeling to Y/N rather than just declaring your undying love for her." You laughed and Dean blushed, "I think she gets it, but she's not a mind reader. Everyone benefits from open communication and all I'm asking is that you try, you don't even have to be good at it, just put words together until you get a sentence and keep doing that. The best relationships I see are the ones where each partner refuses to give up on the other. It's about equal give and take and allowing each other to be happy and loved." 

"So, on a scale of one to ten. How did we do, Doc?" Dean asked and it was Garth's turn to laugh. 

"I can't answer that, but I will say that you guys have a great foundation. We just want to open the lines of communication as a safety net for when times are a little tougher to see through the fog. When your love is hidden behind the walls you use to protect yourselves. You don't need to protect yourselves from each other; I can see that as much as you both can feel it." Garth said, buttoning his tweed jacket as he stood up. "We all need a little help sometimes and that's why you're here, you can't be expected to get through this without it. Whether I be the one to help you both, or you turn to friends, or family, it doesn't matter as long as you find your way back to each other in the end. Never forget that you are going through this together and the best thing you can do is communicate that. Sometimes one partner may feel like they're hurting more or they are more to blame and that's not true, we need to communicate to know." 

"I got it, Doc, next session you want me to talk more." Dean quipped as he stood up with you and added, "I gotta know, what the hell is that?" He pointed to the sock puppet on Garth's desk in the corner. It had yarn for hair, blue button eyes and red lips. 

"That is Mr. Frizzles," Garth laughed with a hand on his stomach, "Sometimes couples bring their kids to the session and the kids respond better to him than me. He insists it's his sense of humour but I think it's his uncanny ability to sense when someone is being a liar." Dean just stared at him and Garth laughed again, "I'm kidding, Dean." 

"I like him," Dean said as you walked to the car together. "That's something I never thought I'd say." 

Dean opened your door, "Me, too." You said, sliding into your seat. When Dean joined you in the Impala moments later you added, "So, you'd be open to going to another session?" 

"I'm open to anything you want, sweetheart. We're in this together." Dean revved up Baby and headed towards home. 

"Dean, I don't want you to keep things from me anymore." Dean side eyed you with a curious look, "The adoption thing... If that's something you're interested in, I want to be included. Maybe it's the right direction for us. I just don't want you to ever feel like you have to hide things from me, especially things you want." 

"I wasn't hiding it, I was always planning on telling you about it but, I dunno, the longer I waited the more awkward it was to bring it up." Dean said and you grabbed his hand from the seat next to you. You gave his fingers a squeeze and he smiled. "The people I consider my family -aside from Sammy- that's you, Bobby and Jody, Cas and Benny, you're all people I found; people I choose to keep around through thick and thin. And I love you all, some more than others," he gave you a flirty wink and smirked, "But my point is when it comes to kids, biological or adopted, I don’t care as long as they’re ours. Family wouldn’t mean the same thing to me without you... So please stop pushing me away.” 

You nodded and vowed, “I promise,” then leaned over to peck a kiss on his cheek, his stubble prickling your lips. “Maybe we can go over what you learned on adoption tomorrow?” 

“Of course, Y/N, I’d love to.” He beamed and planted a kiss to the back of your hand. 

“You’re all kinds of awesome, you know that?” You squeezed his fingers again until he squeezed back. 

“Whatever happened to ‘strange and kinda wonderful’?” He teased and chuckled with you. 

“I love you... my strange and kinda wonderful man.” 

“I love you more, don’t forget that.” Dean smirked and bit his lip like he always used to when you were younger. 

You glared at him a moment as he grinned sideways at you. He knew you hated it when he said things like that. Your love for him was just as strong, arguably stronger according to you. 

“Pfft, hardly.” You declared with an eye roll. “Exactly what makes you think that you love me more? I was willing to see you with another woman just so you could have a chance at happiness and you wouldn’t even consider it.” 

“Isn’t that proof right there?” He laughed at you. 

“But it would make me happy to see you happy so-” 

Dean stopped laughing and cut you off, “I’m happy with you and only you.” He glanced over at you a couple times before he asked, “Are you still happy with me?” 

“You know I am.” 

“Good, then I’m yours and your mine and our future will be what we make of it.” He slid his rough fingers between yours and cleared his throat. “You tamed my heart a long time ago, it would be cruel to throw me back into the wild now. Got it?” 

You smiled, feeling whole for the first time in a while, “You’re right. I think I’ll keep you after all.” 

Dean chuckled. 

Whatever happened next you were in it together. 

_________________________

This series is complete.

_________________________ Dean: @akshi8278 @laycblack @thoughts-and-funnies @mrsjenniferwinchester @crustycheeks @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @lyarr24 @suckitands33  @eliwinchester99 @yvonneeeee @igotmajordaddyissues @djs8891 @leigh70 @globetrotter28 @backseat-of-deans-67chevy

SPN: @hobby27

Wild Hearts: @justrealizedimmascifygurl @evieluvsjamie @kimberkingrivers @vicmc624 @ladysparkles78 @deans-spinster-witch

[and-claudia]

Against All Odds pt.4 (Joel Miller x fem! reader)

Time skip

WARNINGS: ANGST!!!!!! Mentions of abortions, arguing

General Warnings for later on: The main story will have an age gap between Joel and the reader (Reader will be 25 once we get to the main storyline), this will also be your warning that it will eventually be an x pregnant reader (if that's not your jam, I'm sorry) there is also going to be more graphic/trigger parts later on so please always to be sure to read the warnings BEFORE reading. This story will also be 18+ and TO BE ON THE TAGLIST YOU CAN NOT BE AN AGELESS BLOG (i do actually check that) also there first hand full of parts are all prologue so Joel won't actually be in it for a bit

Wordcount: 4200+ (I am so sorry it's so long)

Taglist Sign-Up (read my rules carefully before filling it out)

It’s crazy how three years of being happy and in love can come shattering to the ground with a two-word sentence. 

“I’m pregnant.” The words seemed to be echoing in the small living room of my and Joel’s apartment. 

He stood there. His expression was unreadable. I was debating on if I should repeat myself or just wait it out. I chose the latter. It felt like time had slowed as I stared back at him waiting anxiously. At this point, I would be happy if he would even just yell at me to get out. Anything seemed better than this deafening silence I was being forced to endure. 

A heavy sigh. 

Okay, good. We’re getting somewhere. 

Then he turned and began pacing, running his fingers up through his hair, then wiping his hands down his face as he tried to process what I had said. I stayed quiet. 

“How? How did this even happen? We’re always so careful.” He said. 

“I mean not every time. Ther-” 

“No. I’ve been careful. I know damn well I have been. Maybe you haven’t.” He cut me off with his suggestion. 

“I know you’re not implying that I’ve cheated on you, Joel.” I said, clearly hurt, “There have been plenty of times where we weren’t. I mean hell if I had to guess this probably happened on my birthday. We definitely were not careful then. So don’t you dare try to accuse me of cheating.” 

I felt a wave of relief when he stepped forward and pulled me to him. I hadn’t realized that tears had begun falling from my eyes until I could see them staining his shirt. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m sorry, ‘m just shocked. It’s okay. Don’t worry, we’ll get it taken care of.”

His words made me pull back but not completely out of his arms, “What do you mean?” 

“We can get you an abortion pill, I know they still have those. We’ll get one and take care of this.” He explained. 

“No…” I shook my head, “I don’t want to do that Joel… I mean I know this wasn’t planned but I’m honestly kinda excited about having our own little family.” I admitted. 

“Sweetheart… I just, I can’t do this again. It’s been so long since I’ve been around small kids, let alone a baby. Shit, it’s been 30 years since I’ve held a baby probably, longer than you’ve been alive.” 

That made me step away from him. At first, I thought he meant he couldn’t do this again because of what happened to his daughter. I wouldn’t blame him for that at all. He hadn’t talked about her again in the three years we’d been together, not unless he was waking up from a nightmare. 

“So you don’t want this baby because you don’t want to have to start over again?” I asked, disgusted for even thinking that was going to be his reasoning. 

“I mean it’s just been so long since I’ve done this.” 

“Okay, so? I’ve never done this, hell, Joel, I’ve never even actually held a baby! I am 25 years old and I’ve never held a baby let alone raised one! I was also the youngest in my family so I know literally nothing about raising a kid. That doesn’t mean that I don’t want this baby any less.” 

He reverted to silence once again. I couldn’t take it. I needed to get out of here. 

“You know what? It’s Wednesday, I was supposed to go to the market earlier… I am going to go now. Do whatever the fuck you want to here. Pack your shit, hell pack my shit, kick me out. I don’t care.” I said, walking over to the kitchen counter to grab my bag and the money we set aside for food at the market. 

“Take your gun.” He called to me. 

“I am.” I snapped as I grabbed it and tucked it into the top of my jeans before letting my shirt cover it. 

When I got to the market there weren’t that many people there thank goodness. I went over to the vendor that always has potatoes and was surprised to see that he still had most of his produce there considering it was pretty late in the day.

“Not selling this week?” I asked as I walked up. 

“Nope. Not at this price.” He said, clearly not happy. 

“I’m sorry. Give it a week though, they will be coming back next week when they realize how much they need them.” I tried to reassure him. 

“Let’s hope. Here is your bag.” He said, reaching down to grab the bag he stashed for Joel and me. 

We’ve helped him out with various things and this was how he paid us for it. I finished getting a few other things but took my time heading back to the apartment. When I got there, Joel was passed out on the couch. When I went to set my stuff down on the table I wasn’t too surprised to find the decanter of homemade moonshine half empty again, nor was it a shocker that there was a baggie with a couple of pills left in it. I just sighed and grabbed them both to put them away. When I came and saw what else was left out I was a little confused. Joel had gotten the maps out of their hiding place in the floor. I decided it wasn’t worth my time asking about now, not that I’d be able to wake him up anyways. Ever since his brother went radio silence on him he’s been a wreck. Instead, I put away the food I had gotten at the market and decided to just go to bed. 

The next morning when I woke up I heard two voices and I didn’t even have to guess who it was. I knew it was Tess. I quietly made my way over to the closed door, careful not to make my presence known just yet, and listened. 

“Trucks no good without the battery. And if I don’t get to Tommy soon, he’ll die out there.” I heard Joel say. 

What? Joel hadn’t mentioned anything about going to find Tommy. I continued to listen. From what I gathered this had been in the works for at least a little bit. They had a battery lined up for them but got screwed over. 

“We’ll get our money back and get the battery.” I heard Tess say to him. 

I finally opened the door making them turn their attention to the sound. They both froze when they saw me. 

“You’re leaving, together?” I asked. 

“Shit.” He mumbled. 

I turned around and slammed the door. I was beyond hurt. He wasn’t even going to tell me. I needed to clear my head, so I quickly got dressed then went over to the window before climbing out onto the fire escape. 

I wasn’t sure how long it had been but I continued to sit out there cross-legged. No tears fell, I didn’t have the energy for that, I just simply sat there thinking. Eventually, I heard the window slide open behind me but made no attempt to look at him. 

"Yn, come inside. You know it's not safe on that thing." He said gently. 

"Oh. So suddenly he cares." I said bitterly, “Thought you would have already left by now.” 

"Yn, I've always cared about you, always will." He said. 

"Bullshit." 

He sighed. I could hear him getting up and sitting back down on the windowsill. He didn't say a word after that. We stayed in silence for a few minutes before I spoke up again. 

"I thought my age didn't mean anything to you. I thought it never mattered that I was only 25." I said. 

"It doesn't." He said. 

"You're such a fucking liar, Joel... you told me that you couldn't do this again. That it had been over 30 years since you held a baby since you've raised a newborn. 30 years, longer than I've even been alive. Clearly, subconsciously my age has been an issue for you." I said finally turning to see him hanging his head down. 

He didn't speak up again. 

“We’re you going to tell me?” I asked referring to his plan to go find Tommy. 

“I was.” 

“When?” 

“Last night, but then you blindsided me with-” 

“I did not blindside you. I wasn’t expecting this either… so does this mean we’re done?” 

“I don’t know, like I said I can’t do this again. I think we just need to sit down and have a serious conversation about it all. Maybe this trip will give us both the time to think everything through and we can talk about it when I get back.” He suggested. 

“When you get back?... I’m goin' with y’all.” 

“Yn, no, you can’t.” 

“Why?” 

“You’re pregnant, you don’t need to be traveling all the way to Wyoming.” He tried to sound reasonable. 

“What do you care? You don’t even want the baby. Now move, I need to pack.” I said, standing up. 

He knew it was no use arguing with me once I made my mind up it was made and I was going to stick to it. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t pissed that I was going. 

I grabbed my bag and threw in what I would need before tossing my gun in on top. Joel had already left the room and was getting the rest of the supplies together out in the living room. Lucky for Tess, we usually left the QZ from mine and Joel's apartment so she had stashes of supplies with ours so she was able to pack hers as well. Once we were packed we devised a plan. Well, they did. I didn’t know the details and Joel was being petty not telling me them and Tess was following along. All I knew was that we’d go into the old subway tunnels to come up through the bottom of the building where their guy that had their money and truck battery should be. 

“Alright, come on, kid.” Tess said, slinging her bag over her shoulder. 

“I’m not a fucking kid.” I snapped. 

“Damn, someone is not happy today.” She said, walking out the door. 

I grabbed Joel by the sleeve of his denim shirt to get him to hang back for a second. 

“Have you told her yet?” 

“No.” 

“Good. Don’t.” I said. 

“Hate to break it to you but she’ll find out eventually. Can’t hide it forever, sweetheart.” He shot back. 

“I know. And when I am ready to tell her about my baby, I will.” I said before letting go of his arm and following Tess out. 

The walk to the access point of the abandoned subway tunnels was quiet. When we finally made it to the building, the doors had been re-chained and locked once again. That had never deterred us before, it definitely wouldn’t do it today. Joel cut the chain and we were in. We took a second to get our guns and flashlights out. I had never liked going through the tunnels before, they were dark and damp and smelt like mildew. I wasn’t entirely sure if the smell had actually gotten worse since I had been down there or if maybe it was because I was pregnant but it was almost making me gag. 

And the deeper we got, the worse it smelt. I was half tempted to just turn back around. But I had a point to prove, I wouldn’t give Joel the satisfaction of leaving me here. When I heard Tess say she found the way out I was relieved. Once we got through the door I stopped in the small entry area as Tess went on ahead. 

“Joel, can you grab my water for me, I feel like I am going to puke?” I asked, trying to keep myself from puking, the air in here wasn’t nearly as bad. 

“I told you, you shouldn’t go with us.” He said but still stepped over to grab the canteen from my bag. 

Before he got a chance to grab it though we heard Tess yell. That caused both of us to spring into action and follow where she had gone, guns ready. When we made it around the corner we saw no immediate threats, but as my eyes scanned I saw why she had yelled. 

Fused to the wall was, what used to be, a person. Their body was completely taken over by the fungus. 

“It’s dead.” 

“No shit, Joel.” I said back. 

“I know, I just wasn’t really expecting it.” 

“Was he not here last time?” I asked and she shook her head. 

“You think he came down here after he was infected?” Tess asked. 

Joel was quick to respond with, “Maybe down here is where he was infected.” 

“I’m sure we’re fine…” I said trying not to dwell on that idea too much. 

“Yeah, let's just keep moving.” Tess said, turning and leading the way once again. 

We finally made it to a sketchy-looking ladder. Tess went first, then me, and lastly Joel. As we climbed Joel made a comment about the construction of the building itself, something about it getting updated in the 80s or something. Despite the fact I didn’t always know what he was talking about when it came to construction, I always loved hearing and learning about his old interests. Tess cracked a joke teasing him about his construction-nerd comment, which made me smile slightly. We climbed a little bit higher before Tess got off the ladder. 

It was a small landing with only a single door. 

“This should lead into the hallway.” She said as she went to push it. 

“Is it stuck? Or is something blocking it?” I asked after it didn’t budge. 

“What the fuck?” She asked, shoving it again. 

Then the smell hit me. 

“Okay, I know y’all have got to be able to smell that.” I said. 

“Yeah, it’s gunpowder.” Joel confirmed 

We all scanned the area around us for its source. Then Tess found it, seeping up from under the door was a stream and pool of blood. She shoved the door a little harder and was able to move the body that was slumped in front of it. 

When we made it through I was shocked. There were probably at least half a dozen dead people. Beside one of the men was the truck battery. I didn’t know much about cars, but I did know one that corroded wouldn’t have worked. 

As if to confirm my thought Tess spoke up from where she was squatting down beside it, “Well, the battery’s no good.” 

“Do you think he knew?” I asked. 

“Oh yeah. He knew, and he still tried selling it, twice. Greedy motherfucker.” Tess said as she stood. 

Just as she finished speaking we heard something further up the hall. Joel wasted no time, bringing his gun up and going in pursuit of the sound. I was right behind him, my own gun raised as well. 

“Stay back I got this.” He said quietly over his shoulder. 

“What if there is more than one?” 

He gave no answer and just continued down the hall. We rounded a corner and there was someone trying to help another person up off the ground. Before we got close enough to them the door to our right swung open. I stepped back in time, but Joel didn’t react quickly enough. Someone lept out of the now open door, knife in hand. Joel threw them to the ground quickly and pointed his gun at them. It was then that I realized it was a kid, couldn’t be older than 15. 

“Joel?” The lady down the hall called out. 

I turned my attention back to her and brought my gun up to aim it at her just as a precaution. 

“Marleen?” Joel asked back. 

They know each other?

The lady, now known to me as Marleen, checked on the girl who said she was fine. But then she went to grab the knife she had lost after getting thrown to the ground by Joel, but he quickly stepped on it blocking her from being able to. 

Marleen then called the girl’s name, Ellie, to get her attention. That’s when she noticed that Marleen was hurt. She had just finished reassuring her when Tess joined us. 

“So this is who Robert screwed us over with?” 

The two of them continued a small banter as my attention went back to the girl. I saw her reach for the knife again. Joel quickly turned to point his gun at her. 

“Don’t.” He warned, causing Marleen and the person she was helping to bring their own guns up to point them at him. 

“Not at her!” Marleen said firmly, as Tess and I both aimed our guns back at her and the person with her, “Point it at me.” 

I stole a glance at Ellie, her hands were raised and she looked terrified. Joel slowly took his aim off her and brought it back to Marleen. 

“No offense,” She began, “Our reason for needing that battery is much bigger than yours. Tommy is just one man…” She paused to gauge Joel’s reaction, “It’s our job to know things.” 

“To know things.” Joel repeated, “You’re the same cause that caused my brother to turn against me.” 

“Okay, Joel.” Marleen said as if they have had this conversation before. 

Marleen’s friend finally spoke up, “That was a lot of gunfire.” 

“That means FEDRA will be here soon.” I added, knowing we needed to get the hell out of here. 

“I know.” Marleen said quietly as if she were deep in thought about something. She sighed before speaking up again. 

“We were going to move Ellie out of the QZ tonight. But now we won’t make it anywhere, not for a while at least… So, now I’m thinking, you’re gonna do it.” She said. 

“What?” 

“Like hell we are.” 

“I’m not goin’ with them!” 

Me, Joel, and Ellie all spoke at the same time.

I turned to look at Tess as Joel did the same, “Tess we don’t have time this.” He said. 

“Who is she?” Tess asked, ignoring Joel. 

“For you, consider her cargo.” 

“We don’t smuggle people.” Joel said to Marleen. 

“There is a team of Fireflies waiting for her at the old State House. I know what’s out there. We were going with an entire squadron for that very reason. Now I don’t have that, and I don’t have a truck with FEDRA closing in. All have now is you. And I know what you are capable of… For better or worse.” Marleen said. 

I glanced down at Ellie as she spoke up, “What are they capable of?” 

“You don’t want to know.” I said quietly to her, shaking my head slightly. 

“You get her there safely,” Marleen continued, “and they’ll give you what you need. Not just a battery, but the whole thing. Anything you need. I swear.” 

Joel stayed silent as he looked back at Tess and me. I glanced between the two of them waiting for one of them to make a decision about what we were doing. Tess finally nodded for Joel and me to step away with her so we could discuss. 

“I don’t think I trust her.” I said once we stopped. 

“Neither do we, but she seems desperate.” Tess said. 

“A Firefly vehicle usually means stuff repurposed from FEDRA which would give us a better-than-decent chance makin’ it to Tommy. The second we hand that kid over-” Joel got cut off. 

“Y’all can talk it through but keep in mind I am bleeding out still.” Marleen called out to us. 

We waited a moment before Tess turned back to them. 

“Okay so here’s the deal. We’ll get her to the State House. But we will not hand her over until we have been given everything we want. If not, we kill her, there and then.” 

I wanted to protest that plan but before I could, Marleen said it was a deal. 

“Really? That fast?” Ellie asked. 

“I was thinking the same thing.” I mumbled to myself. 

“You are all that matters. Go grab your bag.” 

It took her a second but she got up and went back into the room to get it. When she got back I let her go ahead of me, following Tess with Joel at the rear of our small group. We walked through the rain back to the apartment. When we got there Joel handed Tess the key to unlock it. She did and held it open for Ellie, I followed behind her. Then Tess was closing the door. 

“Keep an eye on the kid, Joel and I need a second.” She said. 

“Seriously? I can help plan!” I yelled through the door. 

I could hear them discussing which route we take and Bill and Franks. With a sigh, I turned to Ellie. 

“You can go set your bag down.” I said, nodding her over to the living room.

I waited by the door for Joel to come back inside. He eventually did and went straight to the couch. 

“What’s the plan?” I asked. 

“Kill time until it’s dark, then leave.” He said matter of factly. 

“Kill time? What are we supposed to do?” 

“Figure it out.” He snapped before closing his eyes. 

“Just don’t talk to him right now, Ellie. He’s in a bad mood.” I said. 

“Clearly.” She said making me laugh a little. 

“You like card games?” I asked, grabbing our deck off the shelf.

“Yeah.” She smiled, walking over to the table where I had already sat down. 

We played for a bit before I told her I was going to take a short nap before it got dark and advised her to do the same. I went to mine and Joel’s room to lie down on the bed there. 

I wasn’t sure how long I was asleep for, but I was being woken up by Tess. 

“You comin’ or what? Get a jacket, kid. Come on.” She said. 

I quickly got up and went to grab my jacket but hesitated. I wasn’t sure how long we’d be out there. Hopefully not long but if something goes wrong and we’re away longer than we expect, I didn’t want my jacket not to fit when I start showing so instead, I grabbed one of Joel’s older ones and threw that on. When I walked out wearing it Joel gave me a weird look. 

“That mine?” 

“I couldn’t find mine, let’s just go.” I lied. 

“You’re still coming with us?” He asked. 

“Oh my gosh, yes, Joel. I am going. Deal with it.” 

And with that, I left the apartment. 

We made it out and passed the patrols. Then we made it outside of the walls, but we weren’t in the clear yet. They had patrols on the wall. Tess was leading our group, then Ellie behind her, then me, then Joel. We had just about made it when we failed, trying to sneak past a footguard taking a piss. I felt a wave of panic but then when he realized who we were and didn’t just shoot us I felt a little better. 

“Get on your knees!” He kept yelling at us. 

“Just do it.” Tess said, getting down. 

I followed her lead, no need in making this difficult. Joel and Ellie followed as well. 

“Look, you let us do this run we will split the cards with you.” Tess tried to bargain but it wasn’t working. He had us facing away from him and was about to test all of us for infection. I still hated getting this done. Tess went first as she continued to try and sweeten the deal with him. When he got behind me, Joel reached over to grab my hand to give me some comfort, knowing I hated this, but I pulled it away quickly just as the device pricked me. Then he went on to Joel, who also tried to negotiate a better deal for us to be let go, he wasn’t biting. He got to Ellie, but to everyone’s surprise, she whipped around and stabbed the guard in the leg. As Ellie stood I was quick to get to my feet to stand in front of her as the guard aimed his rifle at her. 

“Get out of my fucking way!” The guard yelled. 

“No.” I said firmly. 

By this point Joel had gotten up and was now in front of me, “We can fix this!” 

“Move.” 

It all happened so fast. One moment Joel was in front of me blocking me from the rifle, next he had tackled the guard to the ground and was beating the shit out of him. There was nothing I could do besides watch. 

“Hey, guys!” Tess yelled getting mine and Joel's attention. 

She held up the device the guard was using to test us for infection. It was lit up red. Ellie tried to argue that she wasn’t sick. I tuned out her and Tess arguing and just looked at Joel waiting for him to react. The sound of sirens broke me from my trance. 

“We need to get the fuck out of here. Now!”

taglist: (if you filled out a form and aren't on this list that means either a) your blog is not coming up in the searches so I am unable to confirm that you are 18+, or b) you did not follow my rules for being tagged in this fic)

@sexyvixen7

@joelmillerslays

@elliaze

@little-lovely-darling

@swimmjacket

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@sebby-staan

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@drewharrisonwriter

[crguang]

(From the anon that sparked off that Evil Timeline reply) Calling that the Evil Timeline is so accurate. It would be so on point for the both of R and K to spiral into an inescapable catastrophe. So easy for it to happen. Just a little push in the wrong direction, the wrong word uttered (or not uttered), a misunderstood gesture…and this chance for reunion ends up tearing them even further apart. You'd have to be so evil to make that happen! But yet I can't stop thinking about it. The ANGST. The PAIN. The PINING. GUILT. SELF-HATRED. Ugghh. Inject it into my veins. But really, I just want them to get their act together at the very last second and for all that heartbreak to pay off in the end. My biggest plot rut is how K is ever going to let go of her obsession of R as her ideal pianist, thus averting the Evil Timeline. Maybe she gets on E's case for treating R like a disposable tool. E turns it on K ("They were nothing to you until they made music. And if they've stopped...if they can't, then they'll continue to be nothing to you."), forcing her to ask herself some hard questions. Iunno, I'm excited to see what you're gonna do instead with the AU :D

im reading this with my jaw dropped like babe how about you write the story instead ?3??:? K CONFRONTING ELIO OH THIS IS SO GOODDDD. in my opinion avoiding the evil timeline from ever coming to pass is as simple as kafr getting to know each other without the secrets from years ago. i think its mainly two things, let me try to make sense 😭😭

1) r’s sudden departure contributed a lot to kafka’s idealization of them. they weren’t here anymore, so she had to cling onto something to not deal with the heartbreak of being abandoned and telling herself that she only needs their skills is a good way of holding on to their memory while still putting enough distance between them to not crumble every time she thinks of them. plus elio’s goading about how she’s the main attraction and such… r left, and she only had the music she made with them. after they moved, this idea that she was missing something started obsessing her because she threw herself into her music just to feel like it’s not entirely hers. and it’s not like they’re here to remind her that theyre an actual person. what makes elio wrong here is that, as kids, r was always more than just their music. that’s something they didnt understand, but to kafka they were always more. after they leave it just hurts to think about all that they were to each other, so she doesn’t.

2) r doesn’t play competitively anymore. they havent given up on the piano but it’s purely recreational. when they meet again, kafka wants them to come back, for sure. she thinks they’re wasting their potential and is personally offended that they work customer service while having the skills that they do. but it’s a softer landing, because while they dont enjoy the spotlight like she does, they still play. she still gets to hear them. and while she tries to convince them of their worth, she still gets to know them better than she did before, and that’s the most important element in detaching her vision from the actual r. she gets to know them again in a context other than music. the r that stands before her is an actual person and they’re here to remind her of that. they’re no longer the kid that they were and that’s something kafka already realizes during their first meeting, like “oh, youre not who i made you out to be”. to me, that’s step one. after that it’s a smoother ride but it’ll take some time before kafka can let go of her ideals for them

am i making sense?? it’s a nuanced situation because feelings mix with memories and all of that but basically i think to avoid the evil timeline she just has to know the r of now. and that wouldn’t happen if they stopped playing music entirely because she wouldnt have an excuse or interest in having them work with her again

[chimcess]

Waterlog || pjm (4) (teaser)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Olympic Swimmer!Jimin, Ex Olympic Swimmer! Reader, Swim Coach!Reader Genre: Strangers to Friends to Lovers!AU, Coach!AU, Swimming!AU, HEAVY Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, fluff, eventual smut, I'm so soft for these two it's crazy. Word Count: TBD Synopsis: After a car accident ends her athletic career, Y/N has slowly started rebuilding her life again as a high school swim coach. That’s until she gets a request from an old friend and finds herself back in the spotlight as the new coach of Olympic swimmer, Park Jimin. Warnings: ANGST, crying, mental health issues, talking about mental health, I'm so soft for them it's actually wild, best boyfriend Jimin, did I say angst????, past drug use, past alcohol addiction, past trauma talk, crying, anxiety, hand holding, touching as a love language, Jimin can't keep his hands to himself, pining, sexual tension, banter; to be continued.... Release date: 05/18/2024

prev || masterlist || next || playlist

“I forgive you. Now, why do you want to pack your life up for good?”

That made me laugh. It was a sad, pitiful sound. One that did not hold my usual spunk. One I don’t think Jimin had ever heard before. It was impossible to feel sad when he was around.

“I forgot how quiet my house is,” I admitted softly. “I love my friends, but I think coming back just reminded me of how easily I was able to fall back into the routine of it all. Jin and Andy are parents, Tilly has a new boyfriend, and Hoseok and Minho are always so busy with their own lives that I don’t see any of them as often as I would like to.”

Turning on my side, I blinked back a few tears.

“It might sound stupid, but I really do love Saline. I like how busy I am and all of my friends. I bought this place with the hopes of kids and a dog one day, but I don’t think that’ll ever happen, and now it’s just rooms collecting dust. I just-” I let a tear fall, my emotions starting to bubble over. “I don’t like how lonely it feels out here.”

“Doesn’t sound like you like it there. Have you always felt like this?” He asked.

I shook my head, the tears free falling in between sniffles and shaky breaths.

“Not always. Ever since Namjoon died things have been weird. There was a point when I felt suffocated because no one would leave me alone, and then one day everything resumed and I just got left behind. It was like I woke up and two years just passed me by.”

Jimin comforted me while I cried, telling me how much he hated to hear me so upset, while I worked on calming down. There had been a time in my life when I was not so emotional, but therapy had opened up a whole new side of myself I didn't know existed. Rubbing my face, I sniffled and sank deeper into my mattress. For now the waterworks had stopped.

“You were recovering,” He soothed. “Your body needed time to heal, and you were traumatized. I don’t think anyone can blame you for zoning out for a bit.”

I hummed, “I know. Doesn’t make it easier to swallow.”

“I know how you feel. When I pulled out of the Olympics last time there was a part of me that felt like a huge failure, but my dad was there to help get my head back on straight. He doesn’t seem like it, but he’s a really great shoulder to cry on.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” My voice was like sandpaper. “James is the sweetest person I’ve ever met.”

I felt heavy. Worn. Used. My eyes begged for me to shut them, but we were just getting back into safer waters and I didn’t want to burst the bubble. I yawned, covering my mouth and hoping Jimin could not hear the sound. He had gone quiet.

“Can I ask you something?” Jimin’s voice broke through the comfortable silence that had formed around us. “You don’t have to say anything.”

“Shoot,” I forced myself to smile.

“What happened to Namjoon?”

Taglist: @ownthesunshine @screamertannie @lovelytaes-blog @pernesianparapio @tae-with-some-suga @sumzysworld @chimmisbae

[mah-t-wordblog]

hi mah 😊 If requests are open, I have an idea I'd love to share with you! 🫶 may I please request ler!Tetsuido and lee!Muichiro? I dont think I've seen any tickle fics with Tetsuido, if I'm not mistaken, so this should be the first 🤩🎉

Tetsuido's relationship with Muichiro is so deeply meaningful and sad at the same time... I feel like Tetsuido is such an underrated character yet he was one of the very few characters who truly cared about Muichiro. He saw through Mui's facade. Tetsuido was worried about not only Muichiro's amnesia problem but his mental state as well, and how he was actually struggling with all his problems. Its sad that he was such a tough (but gentle!) looking old man yet the sight of the sword he made for child soldier Muichiro brought tears to his eyes 💔 its even sadder that he passed on still worrying about Muichiro while Mui didnt even acknowledge or bother about Tetsuido's care for him, until he got his memories back but it was too late by then 💔

The idea: Mui arrived at the swordsmith village to pick up a new sword from Tetsuido, and he's looking even more lost and anxious from when Tetsuido last saw him. He barely even remembers who Tetsuido is, until Tetsuido had to remind him! Muichiro visibly gets a bit frustrated at his memory problems, frustrated about forgetting something as important as his own swordsmith, and his aloof and tough facade cracks just a bit... but this crack is more than enough for Tetsuido's knowing eyes to notice, and it breaks Tetsuido's heart to see him suffocating alone under all his burdens. So Tetsuido tries to lighten the mood with some tickle therapy 🥹 he goes for alllll his tickle spots and weak points. He tries his best to make Muichiro smile and laugh, so that he can at least have some breathing space and live as a carefree child... even if its just for a short moment, its more than enough to relieve Mui from some of his stress and worries.

Muichiro would probably forget about this time spent with Tetsuido when he leaves the village, but at least he'll be leaving feeling a little bit lighter... and that's an outcome that will further lighten Tetsuido's aching heart.

Thank you for your time 💝 I'm sorry for writing such a long request haha 😭 its also a bit more on the angst side but we have some fluff at the end to save the day too 🥺✨️ please do not hesitate to decline my request for whatever the reason may be, its alright 😊 hope you have a wonderful day or evening!

Affective memory

Ler: Tetsuido

Lee: Muichiro Tokito

❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡

Ships: NONE

Warnings: This is a tickle fic, if you don’t like it, just scroll down

This fanfic is originally in Portuguese, my English is translated using an automatic translator, if there are any big errors you can tell me so I can fix them

❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡

Muichiro saw a man and decided to get information from him

“Excuse me, do you know where I can find the blacksmith Tetsuido?”

The man, who looked older, sighed.

“Why do you want to talk to him?”

“I need a new sword”

The old man looked deeply at Muichiro

“Has he been your blacksmith for a long time?”

“I… I'm sorry I don't remember…”

The boy continued with a blank expression

“Muichiro, it’s me” the man raised a hand and held the boy’s hand “I’m Tetsuido”

Muichiro's eyes widened.

"Sir! Ah, I'm sorry sir... I don't... I can't remember..." the boy covered his face with his hands "I didn't want to forget you, sir"

“Come here, my kid” Tetsuido called him for a hug “has your amnesia gotten worse?”

“Yes, I hate this fucking disease.”

“I haven’t seen you in a while, Muichiro, tell me how you’ve been”

Muichiro told, he said that his memory was getting shorter and shorter and his emotions were getting smaller, he didn't feel like eating or sleeping, he just fought as if he was a robot

“You shouldn't hate yourself for that, of course not” Tetsuido passed a hand over the boy's face

“I hate myself” Muichiro looked away

“Kid, it’s not your fault”

“I can’t even remember you, what the fuck do I have in my head?”

"Calm down…"

“I can’t even remember why I’m like this…”

“Muichiro, listen to me”

Tetsuido interrupted Muichiro's rude words about himself, the old man had already known the boy long enough to know that he had bouts of anxiety and stress sometimes, and there were measures that needed to be taken to calm the boy down.

“Muichiro, you know I want to help you, don’t you?”

He gestured yes with his head

“So let me help in a way that I know will make you better, okay?”

The old man stretched out his hands and grabbed the waist of the boy standing in front of him.

"Hey! Why like this?” Muichiro laughed a little

“Because affective memories like touch and objects are good for unlocking more important ones, and you need to smile a little, don’t you?”

The boy's eyes widened when he felt the initial chill of the tickle rise through his body, he can't remember whether Mr. Tetsuido had tickled him several times before, but he knows he's afraid of what he might do.

It all started with calm squeezes on his waist, but Muichiro was too sensitive and that already made him laugh.

“You can laugh”

The boy was holding back laughter

“Pff- nohohohoho!”

"Let's go! Laugh! How can you forget me? It makes me want to punish you, boy~”

“Sihihihir pleheAHSHEHEHE” the hands started to move around the boy’s belly

Muichiro forced himself to remain standing because he knew that if he fell to the ground the old man wouldn't be able to continue tickling, and he didn't want him to stop...

“Does this give you good feelings? Does it remind you of me?”

“AHAHAHA YEHEHEHEHEHES”

"Do you like it?"

Muichiro hid his face with his hands

“There’s no need to be embarrassed, kid, you’re just a child, you need to play, have you never seen anyone like you playing like that?” Tetsuido moved one of the hands that hid the boy's face.

Muichiro had already seen tickle fights between hashiras a few times, if even people with such important roles can laugh a little, why can't he too? After all, he is a hashira too…

“PLEHEHEHEASHEHE ANOHOHOTHEHER SPOHOHOHOT”

"Why? You like that spot” Tetsuido said this with certainty, it wasn't to provoke the boy (although it worked for that too)

Muichiro started to have a little tears in his eyes, so Tetsuido stopped

"Até you ok?"

The tears didn't stop in Muichiro's eyes

“Y-yeah, I just… I think I have memories of something like that.”

“You just don’t know what it is, do you?”

He agreed

“See, I told you that affective touch memory works very well”

Muichiro smiled “thank you sir”

Tetsuido raised his blacksmith mask a little and showed a smile to the boy “you don’t need to thank me”

The old man got up

“Now come, let’s get your sword”

Muichiro got up and accompanied Tetsuido, he just had to be grateful that this man always cared so much about his well-being, he was special

❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡

Thanks 🫶🥰

[kinardsevan]

this was actually a Send Me Asks list I posted back in June, but I'm bored and want to answer these anyway sooooo. enjoy.

🫓 What is your most popular fic? -this really depends on which metric we base it on. hits: empty bones. comments: empty bones. kudos: the saboteur (in terms of WIPs and not one shots, aneurysm fic is first) bookmarks: it's gonna be alright (piece by piece) [aka aneurysm fic] that all said, these two get just about equal attention (which is why I love them both equally)

🥘 What category do most of your fics fall under? 😂😂😂😂😂 emotional angst, hurt/comfort. my friends have a lot to say about it too 😂😂😂😂

🍲 When did you start writing and why? literally as a little kid, because my mom told me about her writing poetry as a little kid and gaining recognition for it. i thought that was cool. given the fact that I'm now a published poet and have had a group exhibition, I'd say my artistry is paying off.

🍱 Do you read your own fics? yes and no? I don't read all of them, but with stories like aneurysm fic and empty bones (and a little bit the devil doesn't bargain), I need to refer back to them for information. Plus, I tend to write shit I end up being really proud of, and I like to read those scenes back to myself.

🍛 Have any comments, tags or reactions to one of your fics every made you laugh or cry or both? make me laugh? all the time. @im-turnip and @girlwonder-writes always entertain me with their responses. I haven't really ever had one that's made me cry, but every time I've gotten a review on Empty Bones (or Lost That War in the PLL fandom) about the way people could relate... I screenshot and save those babies as memories that someone else understands it too. Makes me feel less alone and more understood.

🍜 Do you ever feel pressured to write? fuck yes. I thrive off of positive reinforcement, and at one point last summer I was posting EVERY. FUCKING. DAY. Waking up to those reviews drove me to write even more. Now that I'm back in school and have less time to write, it's harder to generate content, but I still crave that attention. But even beyond that, I know there are people waiting to see what's going to happen (fun fact: you and I are going to find out together 😂), and I don't like the idea of letting them down.

🍠 How long does it take you to write one of your fics or a chapter/part? ....depends. if I have the time, an 8-10k chapter can be cranked out in about 3 days, sometimes less. For something with chapters the length of aneurysm fic (which started at 10k and now have some as long as 20k)....weeks? chapter 6 probably won't be done before November. Honestly it just depends on how much detail goes into one scene and how much I've mapped that dialogue out in my head.

🍢 Have you ever gotten hate on a fic? yes. not in the 911 fandom (yet...that i can remember lmao), but way back when I was a teenager writing in the tslotat fandom, I got it more than once.

🍣 What helps you focus or get in the mood to write? music. youtube videos. little 'what-if' scenarios.

🍥 What's your favorite fic you've written? 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

DON'T ME PICK BETWEEN THE TWINS, OK?

Ok ok, though... it's empty bones. BUT. It's my heart and soul and I just... you know?

But also, it's aneurysm fic, because of the level of work and research and it's my little baby and and and. So.... you know?

🥮 Do you have any writing milestones you're working toward? I know at the end of the summer I was closing in on like 400k on the year. I'd like to hit 5 and maybe even further. in the depths of my depression in 2013, when I quit writing, I'd done roughly 750k that year (for a fully calendar year), and there's something enticing about breaking that record, especially knowing my mind is in a completely different place these days.

🍡 Which of your fics was the most emotionally difficult to write? One Tear At A Time. I wrote that entire series off the heels of my friend dying when we were 21. I had a really hard time dealing with it, especially because I was living at home with unmedicated, severe depression and no prospects for my future. He was married, in the army, with a baby on the way. I used that story as a vehicle to really face my issues with the fact that I was angry about my own situation and also talk about what it's like to lose someone you were once in love with at such a young age, but I still cried while working on it.

🍘 Is there a fic or idea for a fic that you've abandoned? oh absolutely. 40 Days was supposed to be a 4 story arc. I wrote two of them and started the third....and then fell off hard.

in terms of what I'm working on now.... I mean I still have my list of ideas. I wouldn't say I've abandoned anything newer, mostly that I'm just super busy and haven't found time to get back to them. even with Your Arson's Match, I know what happens next. I just have to get around to it 😂😂😂😂

🍙 Is there a fic you wish had gotten more attention? I mean selfishly I want them all to 😂😂😂 However, I realize that I write a particular brand of fic (angst) for a ship that, while it's doing well, isn't the #1 ship for its show. That all said... empty bones and aneurysm fic 😂😂😂😂😂😂

🍚 What genre do you have the toughest time writing? .... .... .... ( @girlwonder-writes no one asked you 😂😂😂) ...fluff.... LIFE IS PAINFUL OK. I NEED TO PROCESS THE ICK. 😂

[ohdearlingwhathappened]

Chapter 3 Kid x Reader x Killer- And then there were two

Chapter 3- Is that all this was

Content Warning: Angst, Hurt no comfort, there will eventually be comfort- you just ain't gonna find it here, Kid is a warning himself soooo

Chapter 1- Is that all this was?, Chapter 2

I am so sorry for how long this took me. I was recently in a car accident, and with college starting back up and my new job, I think my brain was pretty much melted. I'm hoping I'll be able to get back into a normal writing schedule, so fingers crossed. In the meantime- Enjoy the new Chapter!

A bright light streaming in from Kid’s cabin window found its mark on his face, bringing him out of his less than restful sleep. The man brings his arm over his face, not ready to go out and start his day, but it seems his movement and the sound of the bustling crew up above was enough to draw him even further away from sleep’s alluring grasp.

Groaning out a small string of expletives, the arm covering his face lowers and drags the hand down his face. Waking up alone made the whole ‘waking up' thing a lot harder than he remembered it being- he was much more used to slinging an arm over another body to stall or having one of two people gently rousing him. This morning’s experience just adds yet another drop of regret for Kid’s words from yesterday.

Regardless of his difficulty getting out of the bed, Kid forces himself to roll out of bed- quite literally- and gets dressed for the day. Now that he was a little more aware of his surroundings, the fact that enough of his crew was on deck to cause a bit of commotion gave him some pause. They have been at the safehouse for a couple of days now, so Kid is a little surprised more people aren’t on the shore celebrating being on land again. 

Going up the stairs to get to the main deck, Kid opens up the door only to bump into the last person who would want to see him at the moment. “Ah… Good morning, Captain. I take it you slept well since it’s well past noon, and this is the first anyone has seen of you today.” The tone was unfamiliar and- while not cold- it wasn’t exactly a warm greeting either.

“I actually slept like shit. Couldn’t get comfortable with all the room I’m not used to.” Kid grunts out with a hint of defensiveness, refusing to look away, no matter how much he wants to. Y/n’s shoulders tensed and they clenched their jaw.

“Well, not to worry, Captain. I’m sure you’ll be able to get someone to warm your bed soon enough. If you’re lucky, they won’t jump to any unsavory conclusions.” Never afraid to get to the point and be cutthroat about it- there’s a reason why Y/n fit in with the Kid Pirates so well. The sardonic smile loosely held on their face and biting tone would make just about anyone flinch, and though it was brief and minute, Kid was no exception.

“Y/n-”

“Now, if you’d be oh so kind to get out of my way, I have more duties to fulfill to do my part on this ship. After all, I haven’t proven myself to be worthy of this crew yet, right?” With that, they push past the broad-shouldered man and begin to make their way downstairs. Until, that is, a hand wraps around their bicep to stop them.

“Would you let me speak, Damnit?!”

“I think you said enough yesterday, Eustass.” Y/n’s tone was now frigid, leaving no room for argument. “Besides, you have your ever-important alliance meeting soon- you don’t have time to chat with the likes of me.” With that, they yank their arm from Kid’s grasp and stomps downstairs, waiting until they know he isn’t going to follow to let the tears they’ve been fighting to finally glide down their face.

Kid, not expecting to have this kind of conversation with Y/n this soon, heaves out a sigh before steeling himself and walking out on deck. The crew appeared to be hard at work, cleaning the deck and making sure any valuables were being stocked away to be put under deck. Wire passes by his captain but stops once he sees the confused look on Kid’s face.

“Y/n thought it would be a good idea to clean up for our… guests. They’ve been a bit on edge- probably just nervous about the meeting with Apoo and Hawkins.” Once he finishes filling Kid in, Wire goes back to helping the rest of the crew out. 

There are still a few more hours before the meeting was to begin, so Kid decided to help with a couple of boxes before going into the safe house to work on his side of the negotiations. Killer had helped him set up the parameters of the agreement, to start him off but has most likely left him to his devices after yesterday’s events. The massacre killer would most likely come around to notify him of the incoming ships and will probably stay throughout the meeting to ensure no bloodshed erupts from Kid’s less-than-appealing temper.

This alliance has to go well. 

*      *       *      *      *      *      *

“I can’t do it, Kil.” Y/n sighs, their head resting on his chest and arms wrapped loosely around his waist. “Everytime I look at him I feel like I’m going to implode. I’m so angry, but I love him and want to forgive him, but he hasn’t even said sorry. One second I want to punch him, the next I want to cry and have him comfort me… What’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing. You’re hurting.” Killer’s left hand is placed atop their head, his right is wrapped around the back of their shoulders, keeping them close.

“You were dragged into this, and I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have to feel like you need to pick sides between your par- whatever we all are.” Y/n cutting themself off from calling them lovers cut both of them. And despite having no more tears to shed, they hiccup- grieving the relationship that apparently never existed in the first place.

“Look at me-” Killer, holds their chin to bring their eyes to meet his mask, “I love you. You are my partner. And no matter what he says, Kid does too- his head is just too far up his own ass.”

It wasn’t the first time Killer had said he loved them, but it wasn’t a common occurrence and every time made Y/n smile.

“I love you too, Killer,” They took his mask-clad head in their hands and brought it down to place a kiss on his forehead, and then resting their own against his. “But I can’t stay. Not right now.”

Killer stiffened and breathed out a heavy sigh. “Where are you going to go?”

“I don’t know quite yet. I just need time and space away from him.”

Killer doesn’t respond. While he understands their need to go, he can’t help but to worry about their safety- this is the New World, not the South Blue. His hold tightens around Y/n, knowing this could be the last time he gets to do this for a while. “I get it. But please, be careful.”

“Don’t worry about me- I’ll be totally fine. Look, if his plans stay the same, you all should pass by Wano within the next month- and no matter what, I promise you to come back. Nothing will get in my way.”

The usually stoic man had a slight tremble to his frame, never loosening his grip around one of the two most important people in his life, despite feeling like they’re slipping through his fingers. “You better.”

“Promise me you’ll stay safe too.”

“I swear.”

“And make sure that moron doesn’t do anything stupid either. Ok?”

“That’s a big ask, little one, but I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you, Kil.” 

With their conversation having come to an end, they both stand there, soaking in each others’ warmth and touch, for a few more moments before Y/n pulls away, kisses his mask once more, and makes their way out of the small cabin- leaving Killer alone, wondering how things could have gone this wrong in not even 48 hours.

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