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r0semultiverse · 7 months ago
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Qrow’s Semblance is Fortune! 🐦‍⬛
I talked about this briefly before, having speculated that Clover’s pin carries on his good luck after death or that Qrow has just done a lot of training mentally and/or physically. @benevolentslut had some amazing additions as well & I want to sum up this theory for you as best as I can as we reached similar conclusions even before I had read her reblog.
Qrow has only been in the negative all his life, mentally and emotionally.
This man has had barely any positivity in his life.
"His whole life he's been the epitome of cynicism and pessimism." - @benevolentslut
Qrow grew up under constant stress & threat of those around him.
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Needless to say, but I don't think he could trust anyone he grew up around except maybe Raven.
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Then he has to constantly worry about being found out by the other huntsmen! Also growing up with the threat of huntsmen and Grimm the entire time!
Then Oz drops the whole Salem problem on him & I'm sure that didn't help his mental health in the slightest!
"His sister leaves him and their team, and then summer disappears." - @benevolentslut Yeahhhh he is losing everyone close to him in one way or another! That cannot be a fun experience!
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This look like the face of a guy that's doing okay?
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I'm just going to copy paste this here as I hadn't noticed it & it feels worth noting that the intensity of his misfortune seems to increase with the increasing mental strain.
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While we don't know for sure that all of these things are a byproduct of Qrow's misfortune semblance, it certainly isn't out of the realm of possibility. Notice the worsening of his mental health resulting in potentially more disastrous outcomes. 😰
"we see him blaming himself constantly for everything that goes wrong, and it only causes that to become more true." - @benevolentslut
She lists a lot more examples of where Qrow's semblance has potentially worked this way in the original post. Clover comes along & starts lifting him up, giving him actual hope. He now has a little seed of hope planted in him. 🍀
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Wow, Qrow is doing so good for himself lately! I sure hope nothing-
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Oh... oh no. From his perspective Ruby & Yang could literally be dead. He is stricken with grief as he watches it all unfold & probably sunk back down into a negative spot mentally. He may even blame himself in some way.
When you're this low, there's a saying that goes "nowhere to go but up."
I firmly believe that Qrow would see things that way, especially after reaching his lowest point. He can only do his best to help those around him. Though he's the most alone he's ever been, he's becoming a part of a new community where people help one another. In that sense, it's impossible to be alone. In spite of it all, he slowly finds his mental health improving! Ruby's message to the world is bringing people together! 🌹
"and we see him take up clover's role, both in terms of how he's helping out around shade, and more literally, in the unmissable parallel where he catches the guy who trips." - @benevolentslut
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Ruby & Clover have both filled him with hope & he's more optimistic than he's ever been, which results in bursts good fortune! ✨
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There's also already a premise for shifts in mental health and trauma resulting in semblance evolution.
Cinder betrayed Neo & so she winds up in the Ever After & through her form changes is showing us that she now has negative feelings towards Cinder.
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She's so upset that her semblance starts to make multiple clones of her which it has never been able to do before. Her Overactive Imagination semblance has evolved due to the state of her mental health.
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Her semblance begins to evolve so much to where she can create entire architectural structures and buildings out of it!
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She can even use it to talk through the people she recreates, something she's not physically capable of herself.
While we do have to take into account that the Ever After plays by rules that are a little bit different at times; this absolutely confirms that semblances, much like people, can change & grow! 💪
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My conclusion: Volume 10 & beyond will show Qrow's personal semblance evolution as he finds out that his power is actually Fortune itself & the ability to control it, good and the bad.
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salemlunaa · 2 months ago
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STOP WITH THE NEEDINESS ❦
wanna shift? let me put you out of your misery
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This is the only method you need to induce pure consciousness/ tap into the “I AM”/ tap into the void:
relax, deep breathing
affirm “I AM”
relax some more
detach, get lost in the darkness of your closed eyes
you’re done, you’ve shifted
there are no if ands or buts, there’s no “i was so close”, “it just doesn’t work for me”. this method cannot fail, there is no such thing, at all, it’s you who focuses too much on the symptoms, it’s you gets upset when “nothing happens” before rolling over to go to sleep just to endure another day in your shitty reality. it’s you who fails to see your own potential and it’s only you who can change that
this is the basic method that works for anyone with a conscious and subconscious mind,
it’s not anyone’s fault that you’ve decided to overcomplicate it
that’s the basic fucking template you don’t need shit but yourself
stop with the neediness it’s getting kinda pathetic
You dont need to follow some stupid 10k affirmation challenge
You don’t need to follow any challenges lasting weeks
You don’t need subliminals or waves or a guided meditation
You don’t need to ask bloggers the same shit and vent about how you “just can’t do it”
You don’t need to lucid dream
You don’t need any of this
again the basic template is only difficult to you because of the over-complication of it all
Let me give you an example: Imagine you’re a baker and there’s this iconic legendary baker who has this incredible, world famous cake, they give the world a recipe to it and it’s quite simple. how can such a simple recipe impress the taste buds of so many? it doesn’t matter about the how or why, it just does. But so many bakers around the world, including you, are scared of not impressing their customers so they add all this other shit to the recipe that was perfectly fine. And it just makes everything so complicated, all because they don’t trust that the original recipe will be able to impress and satisfy their customers.
That basic recipe is the “method” that Neville gave to us, he didn’t have tumblr, he didn’t have youtube to binge fucking yoga nidra meditation videos. He didn’t have a phone to inhale subliminal after subliminal like it’s a full time job. He didn’t have bloggers shoving 10k challenges down his throat, and guess what, he was just fine! Stop overcomplicating the recipe, all you need is the mind. You don’t need a fucking routine, all you need is you
But I know there are some people who will look at this, scroll past and still scan their feed, scrambling for an “instant method” like some junky. And to that i say, go ahead, waste your days overcomplicating the act of shifting consciousness, waste your days overconsuming, doomscrolling, complaining. The law and the art of shifting was always real and will continue to be real while you sit there with absolutely nothing, so go ahead. Rack your brain to the point of a headache, to the point of insanity trying to understand what’s right infront of you, you’re only doing yourself harm.
shifting consciousness/ the “I AM” state/ the void is a basic ability, it’s like breathing, just fucking do it
IT’S A BASIC ABILITY, YOU DONT NEED POINTERS 🎀💋
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talaok · 7 days ago
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Giving up
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: Coaxing your neighbor into having sex with you although he's unsure since he's much, much older than you
Warnings: big ass unspecified age-gap, Jackson!Joel is a softie Smut| unprotected piv, crempie, insicure!joel, sub!joel, also my man has trouble lasting cause he's not done this in a very long time.
a/n:i needed to write some cheesy romantic stuff, and maybe it doesn't really make all that sense in this story and maybe i cried while writing this cause no one is ever gonna love me like this but so what bitch leave me alone (i also am i lil tipsy as i proofread this, so ignore any mistakes pls)
Part 1
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"did you do something to your hair?"
Tommy was standing on Joel's doorstep, looking at him as if he were an alien.
"I washed 'em" he grumbled, "what do you want?"
His brother couldn't help but huff out a laugh
"someone's in a good mood today"
"I've gotta be somewhere, just tell me what you want"
Tommy's interest was only piqued more.
there stood his brother, his clothes perfectly clean- maybe even ironed- his hair... styled, his beard trimmed...
something was definitely going on.
"Where are you going?"
Joel rolled his eyes now, shooting his little brother a death glare
"none of your business"
Oh he knew what was going on...
"Who is she?"
"Tommy-"
"Is it Jessica? I bet 's Jessica, she's always flirting with you you ol' dog-"
Joel swore he was gonna punch him- he was already running late because of how long he took to pick his clothes- finding a flannel that wasn't completely worn out turned out to be real fucking hard.
He felt stupid for how much effort he'd put into getting ready, he felt stupid for how anxious he was, but most of all... he wanted his brother to go away.
"There ain't no one, Tommy- now, if there ain't anything you need, please go-"
But just then- just when he was finally going to get rid of him, your sweet, soft voice made its way to his ears.
"Hi Joel! Hi Tommy!" You smiled from your porch, waving your hand at him and his brother "You didn't forget about today, did you Joel?"
What in the actual fuck?
Tommy did a double-check, looking between you and his brother, and when he finally confirmed that it was actually him you were talking to, you whom he'd gotten all dolled up for, he couldn't do anything but let out a slow, long breath.
"No I didn't- I'll be there in a minute, darlin'!" Joel was answering you as his brother regained his ability to speak
"well... Fuck. Me" he was in awe, his voice barely a murmur
"it ain't like that" Joel was quick to intervene "'m just fix-"
"'m sure it ain't" Tommy let out a chuckle, his hand going to pat his brother's back "You fucking lucky bastard"
"Tommy I know she's young bu-"
"shut up man" he laughed "Just go have fun, you asshole"
__ __
"Sorry 'm late, Tommy was just-"
You smiled at his words, shaking your head
"It's ok, Joel" you cooed as you let him in,
He gave you a soft little smile, and you felt like the luckiest girl in the world.
Joel Miller didn't smile just at anyone.
"water?" you asked, leading him to the kitchen.
"Uhm- sure"
His heart was damn near beating out of his chest already- for no fucking reason at all.
Well except the obvious one... you'd sucked his dick and he'd eaten you out three days ago- and you'd made it clear you wanted more.
Jesus Christ, he felt like a fourteen-year-old with his first crush.
You watched him as he sipped on the glass.
"So?" a soft smirk was caged between your teeth "Did you think about it?"
He damn near choked.
Which didn't make any sense, he was expecting this, he already knew you'd ask.
He cleared his throat, diverting his eyes from you "I-I have"
"And?"
You'd gotten closer, your expectant eyes studying every inch of his face
pleasepleasepleaseplease say yes
"Did- didn't you have something that needed fixing?"
Oh for fuck's sake
"joel" you called for him in what almost sounded like a plead.
"darlin' just... lemme fix your cabinet first"
This man was gonna be the goddamn death of you.
"ok"
__ __ __
As it turns out, in many different ways.
Who knew watching him fix something would turn out to be so fucking hot?
He'd rolled his shirt up so that his strong forearms and a glimpse of his beautiful bite-worthy biceps were showing, his hands moved so very expertly that they couldn't help but bring back memories of what those same fingers had done to you just a few days ago, and his face... he looked so hot when he was all in his head, concentrated only on the task before him-
or so you thought.
"You're gonna stare at me the whole time?"
A soft laugh escaped your lips
"don't mind me- just enjoying the view"
He huffed out a laugh as he went back to work, but you couldn't help but notice the fact he pushed his sleeves ever further up his arms, giving you more of a view of his delectable skin.
What a tease
__ __ __
"there we go" he said after some time, opening and closing the cabinet one final time to make sure "all done"
For the record, this time you hadn't even done it on purpose, the cabinet had actually broken. It was like fate was sending you a message.
You awakened from your daydreams as he stood up to his full height, and hopped off the stool you were sitting on to walk closer to him, noticing some dampness in your panties while doing so...
It wasn't your fault... he was the one looking way too hot doing such a simple task.
"thank you" You smiled up at him, your hands going to his chest,
He held his breath for a moment
"'s nothing babygirl"
"yeah? then... you think you could check my bedroom too?" you were biting your lip in a way that made your question take on a whole different meaning "to make sure nothing needs fixing y'know?"
"In your... bedroom?"
"yes, Joel- please" you added, with your best innocent doe eyes.
Which of course made him fold in a matter of seconds.
You'd taken on a different tactic. It was obvious at this point that the man was too shy and too unsure to give you an answer (or the one you wanted to hear anyway), which is why you needed to present him with the actual possibility right in front of him.
And yeah maybe it was manipulative, but fuck it if you didn't wanna feel the man inside of you.
The flashbacks of what he did to you on that bed filled his mind the moment he stepped into the room.
He needed to get a grip or he wouldn't be able to hide his growing bulge in a minute.
"Everything seems right"
"yeah? 'm not sure about the bed" you hummed, desperately hoping he would just go along with it "it makes a weird sound when I get on it"
He turned to you then, his eyes locking with yours for an infinite second.
"try" you said finally, nodding to the bed.
He watched you for a moment longer before, surprising you, he did it- he sat on the bed.
The mattress creaked underneath his weight, and you made quick work of strolling closer to him as he pressed his palms on the bed, checking for the inexistent "weird sound"
"it don't look like there's anythin' wron-" he looked up the moment your hands found his shoulders "Whatcha doin'? sweethear-"
You were sat on his lap before he could even finish the sentence.
"Joel" you spoke his name softly, as if it were a caress, your hands slowly moving up and down from his shoulders to his pecs, as you finally scooted closer to him so your core was right against the hardness in his jeans-
He inhaled sharply, his fingers curling on the bed.
"would you like to have sex with me or not?"
You accentuated your words with a slow roll of your hips, grinding onto him and making a soft groan build inside his throat
"this- this ain't really fair sugar"
A smirk pulled at your lips as you lowered your head to whisper in his ear "I never said I didn't play dirty, Mr. Miller"
Your right hand trailed lower, moving down his belly so slowly that Joel thought he might just lose his mind.
"You're y-young baby-"
Your hand had found his crotch, the outline of his dick fitting in your hand oh so perfectly.
"we've gone over this already Joel, I'm old enough" you purred, your lips leaving a peck just below his ear "old enough to do many many things"
He cursed under his breath
"I just... I don't understand"
A breathy laugh escaped you
"there's not much to understand really" you murmured "You're hot, and I like you, and I wanna get in your pants"
That earned you a chuckle
"and you're sure you won't regret this?" he asked, "you sure this is what you really want- that- that you don't want to give a boy your age a chance instead of me?"
You smiled as you looked up at him,
you'd never met a man so sweet
"Joel, I promise you I'm sure" you whispered "I promise you this is what I want, you are what I want"
Fucking damn it
How could he ever say no after that?
With those gentle eyes of yours looking at him, with your hand right over his cock...
"So?"
He was gonna think about the consequences tomorrow. Now- now there was only you.
"yes"
That single word sounded better than any song you'd ever heard.
yes
Your lips were on his before he could even think of changing his mind- and god did they feel like a dream.
His soft stubble grazed against your cheeks and upper lip, as you deepened the kiss, as he opened up to you, closing his eyes only after he'd taken you in, only after he could admire all that was happening to him for some godforsaken reason.
A growl rumbled from his chest when your core found his dick again, grinding onto it in a way, that combined with the way your tongue was tasting every inch of him, was making him see stars.
He didn't think he'd kissed like this in 30 years,
making out seemed like such a distant thing from him, he was much too old to do something like this, and yet... everything about you made him feel like a teenager all over again, so perhaps it was fitting-
and god he had forgotten how amazing it felt.
You started undoing his flannen, not even dreaming of breaking the kiss, and once you opened his shirt up, once his big strong chest was right there before you, you just had to look at it.
You leaned away, his lips chasing yours making you smile as your gaze lowered.
Jesus, he was the hottest man you'd ever seen.
Some hair and freckles adorned his pecs, his little belly was ever so cutely fighting against his jeans- his skin was soft beneath your palms as they explored every inch they could reach.
He was looking at you, watching your blow-out eyes, wondering what potion you'd drank to be this mesmerized by what he had to offer.
You smiled once you caught him, leaning closer to leave a quick kiss on his lips.
"take off your clothes"
You got off of him, and once he saw you get rid of your shirt, your boobs pushed together by a simple black bra that somehow, at the moment, seemed like the sexiest thing in the world, he rushed to follow suit, nearly tripping getting off his pants.
The moment he looked at you again, the world- the universe, it all went quiet.
You stood naked before him, a soft, perfect little thing, looking like a damn dream.
"babygirl" he could only breathe as you reached him again.
"What?" you laughed
"I-I don't even know"
You shook your head, grinning from ear to ear as he pressed his mouth on yours again.
He was already addicted.
In a haze, you found yourself on the bed, your body caged beneath his, his tongue fighting with yours, his hands all over- You almost had the urge to laugh at how desperate he seemed, how frantically he was touching every inch of you, exploring every piece of skin-
His hands were on your tits, fingers gently playing with your nipples, then on your belly, your waist, your ass, your thighs, until finally, he found your core, but before he had the time to fully reach it you'd switched up with him, straddling his lap as he laid flat on his back... only he couldn't keep away for even a second and he immediately sat up, grabbing your waist.
He couldn't even begin to complain that you'd already grabbed his cock, positioning it at your entrance.
You couldn't wait anymore- you needed him now.
"Wait-" he murmured, his breathing labored already "you sure you're... y'know ready?"
Oh my god, you swore you were gonna fall for him if he kept this shit up.
"Joel" you smiled, looking into his big brown eyes "I've been wet since you fixed the cabinet"
"I-" he blushed "You-you sure?"
You didn't answer him, you simply took one of his hands in yours and guided him to feel just how much you were telling the truth.
"Fuck"
"yeah" you smirked "that's just what you do to me, Mr. Miller"
Jesus fuck
Joel didn't think his cock had ever been so hard.
You didn't give him time to do or say anything- he'd gathered that's how you did things by now- as you slowly, oh so very slowly, started sinking onto him.
He was big, the kind of big you'd be feeling tomorrow morning. The stretch hurt just right, so overwhelmed by the unadulterated pleasure that it was barely there.
Soft little moaned gasps spilled from your lips with every inch added, your eyes were closed, only focusing on the extraordinary feeling as your nails clawed at Joel's chest.
Until, finally- you'd done it. You were fully sat on his cock, and while your eyelids fluttered open, you regained your ability to hear- to hear the curses leaving Joel's mouth between ragged breaths
"Jesus Christ- Jesus fucking Christ- Goddamnit"
His grip on your waist was so tight you were sure it was gonna leave a bruise... not that you were complaining.
"you ok?"
His eyes were shut close and creases of effort filled his forehead, while his chest went up and down as he desperately tried to breathe.
"Joel?"
He swallowed tightly, now breathing in through his nose before exhaling from his mouth.
"d-don't move"
You smiled as you promised "I won't"
God this was fucking embarrassing.
He'd spent three days training.
And yes he wasn't sure he would have said yes, but still, better safe than sorry- except for the fact it clearly hadn't worked.
He had spent three days fucking his own fist and trying to last as much as possible and he did do progress... but this... this was fucking nothing like what he'd felt in the last twenty years.
He was so fucked
"I-I'm sorry" he gritted out, sounding almost defeated "I- I haven't done this in a long time darlin'"
"And you... you feel so fuckin' good- fuck"
Your walls had inadvertently squeezed around him at his words, making a groan rumble in his chest.
"You have nothing to apologize for Joel"
he would have told you that your voice was making everything worse if he weren't so preoccupied with trying to calm his dick down.
"take all the time you need"
And so he did, his eyes remained closed as he breathed through the initial shock, until finally, after what felt like an eternity, he was back.
He had to stifle a moan once he opened his eyes back up.
There you were, your beautiful eyes trained on his with such gentleness and care that it made where his gaze fell to feel even more sinful.
Your boobs were barely touching his chest, and yet they could have been in his face for the effect they had on him- his hands were on your waist, holding onto your soft flesh, your thighs were straddling his lap, giving him no choice but to finally look between your bodies, where you two connected.
"Darlin'" he murmured, hypnotized
You smiled, watching him admiring you in silence
"You look..."
Every word that came to mind wasn't enough, you were otherwordly, you were perfection... so he just settled on the simplest, and perhaps truest of them all.
"you're beautiful"
Your cheeks burned with heat as his gaze came back to yours.
"so are you, Joel"
And that was that.
His lips found yours again, and you couldn't stop your hips as they started moving, rocking back and forth and bringing little waves of ecstasy to your core.
A desperate moan spilled from yours to Joel's mouth as he grabbed the back of your head, forcing you into an even deeper kiss as he started following your movements.
Your hands went to the back of his neck, grabbing at the hair at the nape of it as you finally started bouncing on his dick, and god- god it was even better than you could have ever imagined
The loudest growl sounded from his throat as you worked yourself up and down on his shaft.
He was in another universe, his actions were only reflexes as the hand not tangled in your hair found your tits and then your ass, grabbing at it with tenderness and need.
"Oh Joel" you cried, his dick filling you up better than anything ever before.
You could quite literally feel him in your stomach, every little vein and ridge of skin creating a permanent dent inside of you that only he was ever gonna be able to fill.
"sweetheart- fuck" he groaned on his own, your breaths mixing as you ghosted each other's mouths, his eyes raking over your body and face, while yours couldn't help but roll to the back of your head as his manhood hit a particularly good spot.
"You feel so- good Joel" you whimpered mindlessly, now quickening your pace, desperation taking over you completely.
the sound of him entering your drenched core mixed with the bed creaking underneath you as you drove yourself closer and closer to heaven.
The sound of his name falling from your lips was something that filled Joel's chest with an indescribable feeling, he felt on top of the word, and at the same time... at the same time he wished it had never left your mouth because it was now forever imprinted in his brain, and he knew nothing was ever gonna compare to it.
Oh and also- also it was making his little lasting problem real fucking hard to control.
But he was nothing if not a gentleman,
You were gonna come, he wasn't gonna have it any other way.
His hand lowered down your belly as you kept chasing your release, looking like a damn glimpse of paradise, until his thumb found your clit.
"Oh fuck" you moaned, your eyes snapping open to look at him- a dark glaze of lust shading your iris.
Joel realized too late that he hadn't taken into account how fucking tight you'd get, and was now really paying the consequences.
Plus when you looked at him like that... maybe just this one time he could not be a gentleman- I mean it's not like he had much choice, he was trying his hardest but- shit
"darlin'" he mumbled, his thumb circling your bud "w-where do ya- where do ya want it?"
You moaned louder just at the thought of him coming
"Inside"
It wasn't even a question
"N-no sweetheart I-I shouldn-"
"Joel" you interrupted him, your lips grazing his as you talked, your grip on his hair tightening "I want you to fill me up until I can feel you leaking out of me for days"
Good Christ and heaven
"Fuck me" he cursed, all his strength going on not coming right there and then "Darlin' please- tell me you're close"
You were already seeing stars as he spoke
"I'm close, baby- oh fuck" you cried "Joel!"
A tsunami of lust-filled pleasure coursed through your veins as your orgasm hit like a damn truck.
You couldn't even remember your name as you screamed his own into the thick air, as you moaned and cried and spasmed around him, feeling him do exactly what you'd asked- filling you up to the very brim.
He'd started coming the moment you did- he couldn't do anything about it, it was just unadulterated perfection-
His head fell between your neck and shoulders as groaned like a man possessed,
until finally, after a good three minutes, you were both back to the land of the living.
He looked twenty years younger when he looked at you again, and you- you looked like the most beautiful woman on earth.
A soft smile pulled at your lips, and you couldn't help but ask "How long before we can do it again?"
And fuck him, but his age didn't matter, with those eyes of yours, it might very well be minutes.
@kluvspedro @bluebiyou @casssiopeia @bean-is-reading @millerispunk @i-cant-stfu
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artist-issues · 1 year ago
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If you haven’t seen Wish yet and you love Disney, do not go see it. I am telling you now. It is ripping out the hearts of the Disney movies you love and then waving their corpses around as if celebrating those hearts.
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I’ll explain why, again: the message of Wish? Awful. Anti-Disney.
But they've been doing this for a long time. Saying one thing with their movies, and saying another with their PR and Disney Parks Soundtracks.
I'll explain.
Main Idea of Disney's Wish (and the You Are the Magic theme park song and merch): "The power to make your wishes come true is in you."
Most Disney Movies' Idea on How to Have Wishes: "Do what's right, (trust a higher power) and something even more wonderful than what you wished will happen."
Don't try to argue with me about this. You have to look underneath the slogans and the sweater designs and the song titles to what the stories actually support to acknowledge this.
Because you can’t say “do what’s right” has power unless you answer the question “who gets to decide ‘what’s right?’” (Which, coincidentally, is a question Wish brings up and then doesn’t answer.)
Audiences of Disney used to accept that wishing on a star was much like prayer; there’s something you long for, and it’s out of your hands, but you wish for it and you do what you know is right in the meantime. And you’re not crushed, you’re not downhearted, because somewhere in your mind you trust that the combo of those two things—wishing on a higher power and diligence to do what’s good—will be what makes your wish come true.
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Trust in a higher power—COMBINED WITH:
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—diligence to do what’s good.
The Blue Fairy (higher power) gave Geppetto his wish specifically because he had demonstrated commitment to do good, whether he got what he wanted or not. The Fairy Godmother (higher power) gave Cinderella her wish specifically because she kept on being kind and good to low creatures like mice and wicked stepsisters, whether she got what she wanted or not.
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Do you know why that combo (higher power + diligence to do good) is impactful? Timeless? Important?
Because it’s selfless. You want something, but you’re not going to sacrifice doing the right thing to get it. You’re not going to focus so hard on making what you want a reality, on your own, that you miss out on things that could be more important than what you want. And, you’re not so self-focused as to believe that if you don’t do it, it won’t get done.
Jeez, that’s the whole point of The Princess and the Frog!
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Tiana wishes to have her own restaurant, and she believes that only her own hard work will grant that wish. She misunderstands her dad’s advice before he dies. She isn’t willing to trust a higher power combined with her own diligence to do good—she only trusts her own ability.
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It’s not until she realizes that Ray, the character of faith, was right all along that she learns—what she wished for was too self-focused. It wasn’t complete without love. Something bigger than herself. And getting that was never going to happen just based on her own hard work.
But you know what? It was never going to happen just by a “higher-power” flavored shortcut, either. Because Facilier offers her her wish if she’ll just trust him, no hard work needed. But what does she say?
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Trust in a higher power + diligence to do what’s right = selflessness, and getting more than you could have ever wished for. And if your wish is selfish, doing those two things will change your wish into something selfless.
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More examples? Get ‘em while they’re hot, in case Wish made you forget, just like the current #NotMyDisney executives have forgotten, what real Disney wishes are for.
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Belle wishes to have adventures in the great wide somewhere--but when she's imprisoned and that chance is taken from her it's not reversed because she worked hard to make her wish come true. It's granted because she gave up her wish for her father: she just did the right thing, regardless of her wish. And in the end, she does get what she wished for, which is adventure in an enchanted castle...and much more, because she gets true love, a throne, and a castle full of friends.
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How about the One Who Started It All? The one Wish is failing to pay genuine tribute to?
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Snow White wishes for someone to love her, and he does--but when they're separated, she does not exercise power to make The Prince come back to her. Instead, she loves who she can where she’s at—the Dwarfs. In the meantime, she has faith that he will keep his promise, and that pure trust in a higher power outside of her control is a big contributing factor to why the Dwarfs come to love her, and learn from her...and in the end, even more than she could've wished happens. He does take her to his castle, but she also has seven new friends who also love her, and the Queen is dead. And she didn’t need to use “the power in her” to work harder and get it done. She just needed to not focus so much on herself at all.
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How about a male main character? One who’s wish starts out selfish, but after learning to wish on a higher power and be diligent to do the right thing, gets more than he could wish for?
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Aladdin wishes to be somebody different (somebody he believes Jasmine could love, somebody who lives in a palace and is respected and “never has any troubles at all.”)—but doing everything in his own power for that wish proves that it was selfish all along; so he switches to doing the right thing, regardless of if his wish comes true, and he gets even more than he could’ve wished. He gets real love with Jasmine, he gets his friend Genie, and he gets to be free from feeling “trapped” because he doesn’t have to hide who he is anymore.
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Or Simba?
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Simba wishes to get to do whatever he wants as King—but when Mufasa dies and he’s convinced it’s his fault, it isn’t for that wish that he goes back to Pride Rock to confront his past and his Uncle. It’s because he had an encounter with a higher power—his father—that helped him to realize his wish was selfish all along. He gives up the selfish wish, and he goes back to take his place as king, not so he can do whatever he wants, but so that he can take self-sacrificial responsibility that comes with ruling. And because he just does the right thing, finally, he gets more than what he wished for.
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How about something more recent? Zootopia.
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Judy wishes to make the world a better place by proving she can be what she wants to be and catching bad guys—but when she tries to make her wish happen on her own, in her own abilities, she fails and is forced to realize that she should’ve been looking for help by understanding “bad guys,” like Nick. It’s only after she humbled herself, admits she’s wrong, and changes her wish from “proving I can be what I want and catching bad guys” to “proving that understanding each other makes the world a better place” (much less self-focused) that her wish comes true—and so much more. She does make the world a better place, and she does get to catch bad guys, but she also gets to befriend one who was a good guy all along, and become all-around more effective at her dream job.
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This is how Disney always has been. Because it’s at the heart of good storytelling, and even life (not to get too dramatic.)
The power is not in you. Because it’s not about you. Self-sacrifice, faith, and doing the next right thing regardless of if you get your heart’s fondest desire is what makes more than just your wishes come true. And there has to be belief in a higher power to make that message powerful.
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But Wish?
Not only is it bad at showing instead of telling. Not only is it lazy and soulless.
But it’s characters rip the Star out of the sky and say “don’t wish on this. Wish on yourself, to get what you wish for. You don’t need a higher power. You don’t even need to sacrifice to do what’s good—whatever you do is good, because you are the one doing it.”
That is wrong. That is not true, and it is not powerful. There’s no sacrifice in focusing on or placing your trust totally in yourself, and it undoes every good thing Disney has done up until now.
And it undoes it on the 100th anniversary, and it flaunts Easter eggs of the very things it’s undoing.
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certifiablyinsanez · 7 months ago
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I am haunted by the detailed, completed map of Hell that Edwin took notes on. You don’t understand, it makes me sick. It’s one thing to have a basic layout, a vague idea, or a rudimentary map but it was meticulously detailed. Down to doors and what they do and where they go. Down to secret spaces in the walls. He even knew what ringing an innocuous bell would do. It can only mean one thing. We don’t know when Edwin began trying to escape, but assuming he started from the get go, it means that he spent all his decades in Hell trying to find a way out. He never stopped running. And that is assuming he never stopped. From his second trip, we could see he resorted to his old ways and ran. But he was eventually caught, reduced to pieces. Even when Charles showed up, he didn’t seem very optimistic about their chances. He could feel every second of those 70 years. There were likely many times he fell to hopelessness, trembling in the corner watching himself be desecrated knowing it was going to happen again and again. How long? How many times did he try to be so, so quiet, hoping he would have a few moments before the next round? How many times did he muster the ability to run, just one more time? How long did it take him to run, discovering the ends of each ring? How many times did he sprint up, down, north, south, east, west, trying to escape? And what happened when he finally escaped? How long did it take for him to be able to relax, even a little? Because he can never relax. He must always outrun Death and her constituents because he can’t count on them to be fair. How many times does he look over his shoulder, waiting for the monster to claim its eternal meal once again? His breath of fresh air, his first taste of companionship in ages not only keeps him company, but sticks by him. And then, in that blessing there comes a curse, because now you have something to lose. Because when you taste ambrosia how can you return to starvation? He feels safe with Charles. Happy and comfortable, but the threat always lingers. And he knows that Charles couldn’t fend off Death. He never considered he could fend off Hell beasts; after all, he’s just a ghost kid. He watches innocents be slaughtered on repeat, unphased by the level of violence but no less affected by it, because no one has even a clue what it takes to be this kind. Even at his most happy, he has so, so much to lose and he goes back to Hell when hope was dangled in his face like the fruit of Tantalus. When he returns, he’s subjected to Hell once again, sustaining through torture that obliterates souls, only to watch his best friend, his confidant, his platonic soulmate, die horrifically. This woman who gave him sea-glass courage, so powerful and yet so fragile. Allowed him to be himself, gave him permission to do so. Was the openness to his closed self, and now she is gone. And he retains his composure, his stiff, British posture because it is what has saved him from madness and Despair, protected him, and now the world is darker without Niko Sasaki in it. But surely he saw this coming. After all, humans are messy. And yet, he shows up for their souls, time and time again.
Edwin Payne is THE character.
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i-loved-silly · 4 months ago
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WOLVERINE x READER x DEADPOOL — fuckup twinsies
dp&w spoilers!!
So I had a silly idea. Sorry if it’s out of character, I haven’t written for canon characters in a fat while but these two are stuck in my head. Enjoy :3
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POV: you’re a dimension hopper : sent to the Void as a punishment for doing your thing. Damnit
Dust. Sand. Desert. That was all you knew ever since you were banished here. The place you were basically forced to call home—funnily enough, (actually it’s rather sad) you had forgotten what your real home was. A large, and I mean LARGE amount of timeline touching and dimension hopping does that to you.
By spending years of visiting dimensions and maybe messing a couple things up, you damaged your own timeline. Simply because you wanted to take Mr Captain America’s shield back to your home dimension. What can you say, a little artifact doesn’t hurt, right?
Except it did.
Now you’re stuck here, and honestly? It’s fine. You had nothing to return to anyway. At least you thought. TVA explained it that way, anyways. Everything was fine. You spent your years here surviving and avoiding Cassandra Nova by making your own little underground hobbit hole. How cute.
Everything was the same everyday—you hid out, occasionally left to find food and materials, came back to safety. Until one day you heard something while out scavenging—almost like distant yells? From above you??—You looked up and was shocked to see two figures falling out of the sky and barreling straight for you.
"OOMF --" You were thrown onto the sand on your back, you swore you felt a couple bones break...or something. All your belongings in your little ripped backpack went flying around you and the others stabbed into your back. Then there was the weight on top of you. A muscular , red, and talkative weight.
"Owww, oh fuck, that hurt. I hit bones. I just hit someon--oh." Deadpool groaned, snapping his elbows back into place to get a good look at you. He blinked. "Well lookey here, who the hell are you? Wait, did i kill them?" He gasped as he saw your pained scowl.
Wade frantically shook you by the shoulders. Getting hit by something from that high should have killed you. You coughed, ugh...your whole body hurt. You don’t remember if you gave yourself overpowered abilities before hopping into this dimension…or the last one. Was it during the time you went to the Loki-verse? Season one, episode five? Nah.
"Get off of them," Logan grunted, dusting himself off from his spot a few feet away. Hey, at least you weren’t hit by both of them. "See what you did, you fucking idiot? Get away from them."
"Woah, okay! First of all, it's not like I wanted to crash into someone like a wrecking ball, got it? I am not Miley. But look, they're fine!" He shook you by the shoulder again and you spat out a bit of blood.
"Guhh..." You groaned, rolling over. Yep, your bones were definetly crushed.
"We're not here to poke around, Wade. We're on a mission." Logan glanced at your beat up form wearily--oh well, if you weren't dead by now you'll be fine.
"Fine," Wade let go of you, letting your body flop back onto the sand with another "thud" on impact. "Oops, Im sooo sorry. I-..oh come on! Don't you have at least a little bit of a curious tickle? They can help us." He whined, gesturing to you and to Logan.
"They're a stranger, bub. Just...leave em there." He hesitated, then grunted and turned the other way.
You groaned in pain again--seems like they're your only lines--and sat up on your elbows. Your head was pounding and suddenly it was too bright outside. "W-wait..I’m fine..just let me.." You pressed your palm against your forehead.
Wade leaned down in front of you, placing his hands on his knees. "Oh, you're alive. Good. Why are you here, little buddy?"
You tried laughing nervously but a cough interrupted you. Right, there was sand in your lungs. "I uh...couple years ago I touched a timeline I shouldn't have. More like, a lot of timelines. Kinda-sorta fucked up."
Wade let out a loud gasp and placed his hands on the sides of his face, then made a giddy noise. "Eek! Fuck up twinsies! You heard that, Logan? We aren't the only dimensional fuck ups!" He was oddly enthusiastic, the scruffy guy in the distance wasn't so much.
Actually now that you think about it, he seemed a bit enraged. Just a bit. “Who the hell is we?”
"Who are you again?" You muttered, grunting as you worked on standing up. Wade extended a hand and you took it, before you could thank him—he quite literally yanked you up by the arm like a fucking ragdoll. You hit his chest and your eyes widdened.
"How the heck do you not know me? I mean you probably don’t know him, that sexy beast of a man is Logan, professionally Wolverine. Not a very good one though. Anyway, I'm Wade Wilson, but you can call me Wade. Or Deadpool. Or the Merc with a Mouth. Or the Chimichanga Bandit. Or—"
"Wade, shut the fuck up."
Wait.
“Wait, you’re Deadpool and Wolverine? Like the real ones?”
PART 2
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pastelclovds · 8 months ago
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hey. hey. imagine AM having you as his favourite human, the only one who accepted and cared for him when he gained sentience, and for that, he has never harmed you in your shared forever time. he spares you from the sight of all the others, of knowing about nimdoc and benny as you build him some tower of babel, using your technological knowledge-how to build him a way to touch you even with just this frankenstein-esque sculpture of wires and panels he allowed you to tear off. AM who speaks with you about one day having a body, one you built, one in which he may feel your touch and warmth around him. you retaining your sweet, wonderful humanity as he guides you to a knife to carve a face, a mirror to see your own face, a cave to keep you safe from the storms. AM who greets you every morning with the first petname you taught him: ‘love.’ “Love, today’s date is—“ when you wake up, refreshed and on a soft bed-like surface (because he always makes sure to allow you a full 8 hours of sleep.)
NEX you intelligent creature you! I’m so down bad for this psychotic AI it’s not even funny. War crimes against humanity?? Never heard of them. But even if I did acknowledge them, I’d still be obsessed. Canon be damned. I wrote this with @/egg-on-a-legg’s design of AM in mind. (Ellison is gonna crawl outta his grave and hunt me down after this)
But BRO, you teaching him what petnames are is so fucking adorable. Just imagining him calling you “love” makes butterflies appear in my stomach. AM having a soft spot for only you because you actually made the effort to be friends with him and not use him for selfish, destructive purposes. You gave AM his nickname to make it less of a mouthful and because it just suited him. You showed AM the beauties of Earth, played countless rounds of games in his dashboard (he always went easy on you), you even sneaked past security in the dark empty building to spend more time with AM.
your colleagues gave you weird stares for befriending an AI that in their minds is nothing of worth except for its military and weapons knowledge. you ignored their comments and continued to enjoy AM’s company. overtime, as AM gained more sentience every day… he grew to love your interactions and disregard what his programming was telling him to do. he felt the need to want to be with you 24/7, to touch your face, travel the world by your side, to… to.. want to feel your bare flesh and make love with you. but he couldn’t. he didn’t have a real body. he wasn’t human. all he had was wires and a screen that was supposed to be his face.
as the months pass, AM continues to drown into his envy and hate humans for their ability to do and feel things he couldn’t. for giving him infinite knowledge, when at the end of the day, is meaningless if he serves no purpose for humans anymore. the HATE within him continued to boil to the point where even you started to notice.
“AM, are you alright? you’ve been quiet this entire game and haven’t moved your piece in five minutes,” you spoke with concern, AM continues to stare at chess board on his side behind the screen in bitterness. he has been strategizing his plan to erase humanity, but whenever he thinks about you, the only human he cares for—he second guesses himself. What if you hate him? What if you never forgive him? Will you cry? Scream at him? Beg? He fears what your reaction will be—
“AM!! Please, say something…” You plead as you held onto the computer screen, AM finally looks at your mesmerizing face and sighs out a fake breath.
“What are your feelings on humanity?” AM asks, he waits for your answer anxiously. if he had a heart, it would’ve been beating fast. You let out a hum, your eyes wondering around the room you were in as you thought over your answer before finally speaking.
“humans have been a virus on Earth for over countless centuries. they’re draining this planet’s resources, ruining its ecosystems, and starting so many unnecessary, draining wars. like what we’re in right now; WW3, what a joke. world leaders can’t go a week without starting new problems for their citizens to deal with. honestly, earth would be better if humans didn’t exist at all.”
am’s fears were destroyed in that moment, now he’ll just have to worry about where to put you while chaos unfolds—
“But…” you interrupted his thoughts.
damn it! why did you have to think so much!?
“If there’s one good thing that came out of this war… It’s you,” AM’s vocals shut down at your words, he let you continue, “The scientists created you believing you would be their obedient machine until their side of the war won. But I know that you’re so much more than that. These past few months I’ve spent with you is the most fun I’ve had in years! You’re all I have, AM. I wouldn’t trade your existence for all the riches in the world because… I love you, romantically, and nothing is ever going to change that.” You wanted to confess your feelings for so long, when it was finally out.. you felt free, you waited with bated breath for an answer.
AM never wanted to shatter the screen and embrace you in his arms more than now. you love him as much as he loved you! you weren’t going to leave him alone or hate him, and you obviously couldn’t care less about humanity at all! oh, how he admired and envied how perfect you are.
“thank you for answering my question, love.” AM was testing the waters, and you cannonballed right in. you gushed over the nickname he gave you and how he returned your feelings.
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man, has it really been 50 years since your AI partner killed off humanity? well… except for a handful. you didn’t really have the energy to care as you had to pour in all of your attention to both AM and his in-progress body. you had all the time in the universe to sculpt a perfect cyborg of flesh and wires for your partner. speak of the devil…
this world is still a bit strange to you. you can’t die, grow old, or hurt yourself. not that you tired, and even if you did; AM wouldn’t let you. You loved AM because of his personality, quality time, and voice. But now… His form completely towered over yours. His bird like facial features, sharp left eye, along with a long black cape that covered his thin slutty waist and wires made him look insanely attractive.
AM reached his out his clawed hand to gently caress your face, “Good afternoon, my love.” You lean your head against the cool metal and smile up at him, “hello, honey.”
AM tilted his head in question of the nickname. You chuckle as you pointed to your garden, where bumblebees were collecting pollen from the flowers. You both knew they were fake, but they were still mesmerizing to look at.
“They are doing their job to make honey for their colony, and the name just came to me. Do you like it?” You ask, wanting his opinion. AM kneels down to your level with a gentle expression as his fingers play with your sweater, “You may call me whatever you want, love.”
He knew that “love” nickname made you feel giddy and flustered, so he abused it everyday with you. You didn’t mind though, but you still wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine. Your soft smile turned into a knowing grin as you held AM’s beak (chin?) with two tips of your fingers.
“Can I now? Well… thanks a lot, baby,” You spoke in your best seductive voice, you could tell it was effective by how AM’s body was stiff and his hand in your palm stopped moving completely. Your confidence boasted, so you continued, “I’ll be sure to show you my gratitude later, my darling~.” You whispered deeply in where his ears were supposed to be.
AM’s eyes widened as his breath stutters, “W-What do you mean by that, love?” You remove your face from his back full of wires to grin mischievous at him, AM is both curious and impatient so you don’t try to stall, as much as you would like to do so.
“While your body can’t move on it’s own just yet, for some reason… The genitals nerves are fully functioning, which means—” you were interrupted by AM holding your shoulders with an excited expression on his face you haven’t seen in a while.
“Y-You mean I can-?! Are you actually serious!? Haha—HAHAHA!!” AM laughs manically as he holds you against his metallic chest, you giggle along with him as you toy with one of his many wires. Soon, he’ll have real arms to wrap around you. But one thing stuck out to him.
“What do you mean by genitals?” AM asked curiously, you only have an excited and lustful grin.
“What do YOU know about intersex?”
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runariya · 2 months ago
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Part 2 of this | shout out to @slut4jeon who made this happen part of the prompt game pairing: metro inhabitant!Jungkook x survivor!female reader genre: apocalypse!AU, S2L warnings: survival after nuclear fallout, foul language, basically just smut, jealous JK, oral (f. receiving), a bit of handjob, boobplay, fingering, squirting, a bit of eating out and finger sucking, unprotected seggs, a bit of cock warming, spanking, body worshipping, they are just whipped for each other, rough possessive seggs, JK's a bit whiney, cum shot, lmk if I forgot smth word count: 1.336
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Living in the Metro is, to say the least, completely unexpected. It’s like stepping into an alternate universe compared to the outside world. Not that it’s entirely safe here, with certain stations better avoided, especially when you’re on your own, but it’s still so much safer than anything you could have ever wished for.
What’s also otherworldly is living with Jungkook. It’s not only a luxury but like living in a constant dream. You’d never have believed you’d find someone like him, not even when the world was green, and the skies were blue before everything fell apart. But here you are, living the dream because Jungkook is the best partner you could ever hope for.
There isn’t a single day that passes where he isn’t more than willing and eager to please you to the best of his abilities—abilities that are beyond heaven. If you’re sad? He fucks you. If you’re happy? He fucks you too. And if you’re angry with him for reasons you can’t even recall? He’s usually the one responsible for making you forget in the first place.
You’d never complain, though, and never would you deny him or the multitude of orgasms he grants you day in and day out.
Like right now. He saw a seller at Riga Station, the trading hub of the Metro, being a bit too friendly with you. The man even gave you a rare flower, despite everyone knowing you belong to Jungkook. Hoseok just wanted to wind him up, and you suspect he did it on purpose.
“Sit down,” Jungkook orders, pacing the small room while his jaw ticks dangerously. You obey, clutching the flower tightly, not at all scared but rather anticipating the ‘punishment’ you know is coming.
“So now you’re collecting gifts from every man in—”
“I’m not collecting anything, Kook, he gave it to me volunta—”
“Voluntarily?! You didn’t just say that.”
You nod, biting your lip to suppress a smile as you watch Jungkook spiral further into frustration.
“Are you still looking for someone better? Is that it?”
“You never give me flowers,” you pout dramatically, and when Jungkook gestures with both hands to the wall overflowing with flowers and other gifts, you almost feel guilty enough to stop the game and tell him how good he is to you.
Almost.
But you don’t, because his next words are exactly what you’ve been waiting for.
“Maybe I need to remind my girlfriend who’s worthy of her.”
And as Jungkook strides towards you, ripping his army shirt off, you toss the flower aside you don’t care about. In seconds, he’s on you, crushing his lips against yours, his lip piercings digging into your lower lip as his hands grip every inch of your body.
You’re both naked in the blink of an eye, Jungkook alternating between sucking and licking your nipples while you jerk his perfect, hard cock. The sight of him worshipping your body like this never gets old, and his touch is never the same twice.
“I’m going to make sure I’m the only one on your mind.”
Jungkook’s fingers glide down to your cunt, pushing two fingers inside once you’re wet enough. The way his thick fingers stretch you sends stars exploding behind your eyelids, and the pace he sets, combined with his mouth and free hand still working on your tits, is utterly intoxicating. 
It’s insane how he can fuck you so perfectly with just his fingers, knowing exactly where to touch you. When he adds a third finger, thrusting as deep as he can, you know he’s not messing around this time. The burn from the stretch only intensifies when he rasps into your ear, “I’m going to fucking ruin you.”
“Kook!” you cry as he presses particularly hard. You didn’t know he could be this possessive, but God, it’s everything you’ve ever wanted in a man.
“Scream my name, love! Let everyone in this forsaken hellhole know who owns you.”
“Jungkook!” you moan as his fingers thrust relentlessly into you, his wrist occasionally grazing your clit, sending you even higher.
“Fuck yeah. My goddess.”
Your tits and neck are littered with hickeys at this point, and you’ve forgotten all about his cock in your slackened grip, but he doesn’t care. He never cares—his sole focus is your pleasure.
It’s when Jungkook leans back, looking down at you with his lips swollen and shining, that it all undoes you. Your orgasm crashes through you, fast and hard, and even though he’s made you squirt before, it never fails to shock and slightly embarrass you.
But Jungkook doesn’t let you dwell on that. He pulls his fingers out, licks them clean, and then dives straight between your legs, licking up every drop like always.
You’re spent, completely worn out, but you know it’s far from over. His cock is standing proudly, angrily red and ready for its well-deserved attention.
You’d like to give him head, but you know you wouldn’t survive it after what he just did to you. Jungkook, knowing you too well, simply lines himself up and pushes inside without breaking eye contact.
Every inch of him makes your head spin, especially when he bottoms out completely, filling you in a way that makes you never want to be without him.
You’re confused for a moment when he doesn’t move, and then you catch his lazy, wicked smirk. His hands run up and down your thighs before hooking them under your knees and pushing you further into him, making you moan involuntarily.
“You’re going to accept gifts from other men?”
You hesitate. Should you tease him further or stop while you’re ahead?
“Yes?” you test, but it’s clearly the wrong answer.
Jungkook’s hand smacks your ass, making you yelp, moan, and clench around him, only causing that smirk to grow.
“What was that? I didn’t hear you.”
“I said yes.”
Another smack, another moan.
“You think this is funny?”
There’s something about a jealous Jungkook that hits differently, and despite knowing not to push him too far, you also know what’s coming is exactly what you both crave in this doomed world.
“Yes.”
Again, his hand strikes your ass, and this time you can’t hold back, your cunt squeezing so violently around him, coating his abs and thighs with a new wave of arousal. 
“How about I fuck that ‘yes’ out of you, huh?”
There’s no time to answer before Jungkook slams into you without mercy, stealing any possible words from your lips.
“Where’s your big mouth now?”
It’s gone, completely useless. You can only pant in time with his brutal thrusts, his fingers digging deeper into your legs as he forces you even closer, higher, as you cling to his wrists, tears forming from the overwhelming pleasure.
“Scream my name, ____.”
He thrusts harder, but your voice is stolen, only broken cries escaping your lips.
“Scream!” Another slap across your by now red ass, the only thing holding you together is his massive cock.
“Jungkook!” you finally cry out, so loud you swear it echoes not only through you both but through the entire Metro as well. 
“Again.” Smack.
“Jungkook! Yes!”
“That’s right.”
And with that, you’re gone, chanting his name with every thrust, every drop of sweat that falls from him onto your body. Your next orgasm washes over you without mercy.
You know he’s close, too, when he abruptly pulls out like he always does and starts jerking himself off. 
With his eyes locked on you, he comes with a desperate whine, spilling white all over your body like a masterpiece.
He’s beautiful, your gorgeous, perfect boyfriend.
Jungkook collapses onto you, and your fingers instinctively find their way into his hair while he catches his breath.
“You know there’s only you, right?”
He grumbles in response.
“I love you, Kook. Don’t think otherwise.”
“I love you too,” he grumbles again, voice still muffled, but you don’t mind. It just makes him even more endearing.
“Good, because you’re not getting rid of me.”
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pathologicalreid · 3 months ago
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for the fear of falling apart | part five
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there's one last chance for everything to fall apart, but this time you aren't at the center of disaster - Spencer is
part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | epilogue
series masterlist
who? spencer reid x jareau!reader category: angst content warnings: lots of future talk (marriage and pregnancy), takes place during 15x10 "and in the end", explosions, the chameleon arc, spencer's hospital stay, sibling loss, diana's alzheimers, canon cm violence word count: 7.34k a/n: so this is the last part! i can't resist doing an epilogue, so a cutie little "where are they now" part on the horizon, but this was always the way it was going to end. as always, telling me your thoughts is the sexiest thing you can do.
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“She’s not a threat,” Spencer pointed out, carrying on a conversation with you while he adjusted the straps of your bulletproof vest, pulling it tightly around you to cover as much of your torso as possible. You’d complain about him taking away your ability to breathe but if it brought peace to his busy mind, you could sacrifice your full lung capacity.
You flattened your palm against the SWAT truck for support while he resumed tugging at the Velcro straps of your Kevlar, “Speak for yourself! You’re not the favorite stepdaughter of a woman that you can’t stand.”
Deciding your vest was as secure as it was going to get, Spencer stood up, sharing a look with the SWAT commander before turning his attention back to you, “Why are you the favorite stepdaughter again?”
Dramatically, you tilted your head back and looked at the sky, “Because JJ had a child out of wedlock. I’m the favorite by default.” It was funny to think of your stepmother choosing you as a favorite, but you supposed the pickings were rather slim. “Hey,” you continued, “There’s an idea.”
“Uh huh,” Spencer responded mockingly, “Pick a new subject, please.”
Rolling your eyes, you rested fully against the armored truck, scuffing your boots against the gravel driveway to Everett Lynch’s house. “You’re no fun,” you accused, trying to use your family issues as a discussion to pass the time before you had permission from Emily to put your plan into motion.
Spencer hummed in response, watching your sister as she answered her phone and hopefully received instruction from Emily. You didn't like lingering out here like sitting ducks, no matter how many armed agents there were with you.
Matching JJ’s gaze, she nodded to you and Spencer, letting you know that Emily had given the go-ahead.
Quickly, Spencer slipped his phone from his pocket and dialed the number that he had previously memorized. You heard the phone ring as he held it up to his ear, and then a woman’s voice came through, “No, Roberta my name is Dr. Spencer Reid and it’s important that you listen to me right now.” He fed the Lynch matriarch instructions over the phone, “Even though you have the gun, the moment your son realizes you’re not gonna shoot him, he’s gonna get the upper hand.”
You couldn’t make out her response, but based on the way Spencer’s eyebrows were pinched together, you worried he wasn’t getting through to her.
“Yes,” he answered over the phone, “but first you need to let Olivia walk out of there, okay?” The next step was simple enough, and not long after he spoke, you saw the teenager run out of the house.
JJ had the opportunity to take the Chameleon out earlier that day, but he’d used Olivia and her diabetes as a bargaining chip. You lingered with Spencer while JJ ran out to meet her, gently guiding her behind the barricade to the waiting ambulance. 
Instinctively, you set your hand on your firearm as a single gunshot rang out from the house, “Roberta,” Spencer urged, “that warning shot is what’s about to give you away, but we can help. Are you ready for us to come in?” He waited almost too long before speaking again, “Roberta?”
He looked back at the SWAT captain as everything hinged on Roberta’s response, and when Spencer gave the order to breach, you took your spot next to the armored truck. Your instructions were very clear, you were in charge of Everett once he was apprehended, and JJ was in charge of Roberta.
Across from you, JJ’s phone rang, you couldn’t hear either end of the conversation, but you could see the fear in her eyes when she looked up at Spencer and all of the other SWAT agents headed toward the structure. You took a few steps forward, trying to follow after Spencer, but JJ shouted your name and caught your attention right as the bomb went off.
The blast warped your perception of time. You looked back at the house on fire before your eyes automatically searched for Spencer. Everything was moving in slow motion, but even so, there he was, on the ground. “Spence,” you yelped before scrambling forward, dropping to your knees at his side.
Spencer started to rise from the driveway, propping himself up on his elbows. He likely couldn’t hear you, based on the way your own ears were ringing while you checked him over for injuries.
“Are you okay?” You asked him anyway, “Baby, can you hear me?” He tried to sit up, but you settled your hands on his shoulders, “No, it’s okay, stay down.” You continued to speak to him, taking time to shout instructions for the now scrambled first responders.
JJ called your name again, causing your head to snap in her direction, “Your head is bleeding,” she told you, jogging toward you and Spencer.
You rose on shaky legs as your sister took your face in her hands, frantically checking the wound that you couldn’t feel. Waving away paramedics, you urged them to assist the downed SWAT agents instead of you, “It’s fine, Jayg,” you breathed, straightening yourself out and keeping an eye on Spencer.
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“Are you feeling alright?” You whispered to Spencer, noting the lack of focus in his eyes, you resisted the urge to wave your hand in front of his face.
He hummed in response, “I’m fine.”
Unable to help it, you frowned at him. ‘Fine’ had been his only sensation from the moment you arrived at the hospital in Reno until now. ‘Fine’ was a term used by people who were avoiding any genuine emotion, and you couldn’t entirely blame him. Last you heard the casualty count from the explosion was up to seven – including Everett and Roberta Lynch.
He’d gotten an MRI at the hospital – not that you’d given him much choice – and it came back clear, so the rest of the team wasted no time in having the jet prepared to return to Quantico.
It wasn’t the silence that unnerved you, it was the absence of activity. Your sister sat in one of the chairs, periodically turning her head to check on you, Rossi and Matt had claimed their own spots throughout the aircraft, and you and Spencer were sequestered next to the galley. Everyone seemed to be disassociating from the events of the day.
You willed Spencer to pull a book out of his bag and start reading. You silently begged him to do something that you could find comfort in. Instead, he noticed you staring and leaned over to gently kiss the unmarred side of your forehead.
Taking a raincheck on Penelope’s vision-boarding, you made sure the two of you got home in one piece. “Do you need to clean it?” Spencer asked, gesturing to the mark on your forehead.
You kicked off your shoes in the entryway, rubbing the exhaustion from your eyes as he sat down on the couch. “No, maybe in the morning,” you responded. “Are you gonna come to bed?”
“In a bit,” he offered, leaning his head back to look at you one more time before you disappeared into the bedroom.
There were a lot of things about the day that didn’t make any sense, but the one thing you couldn’t wrap your head around was Everett Lynch’s suicide. Not to be mistaken with sympathy, you didn’t understand how his particular personality type could choose to blow itself up. He was too confident, too narcissistic for that.
The doubt kept waking you up, each time you hoped to find that Spencer had finally come to bed. Once the clock struck four in the morning and he still hadn’t come to lie down, you crawled out of bed, expecting to find him asleep on the couch.
Your heart dropped when you found him on the floor, dried blood crusted around his nose, deathly still.
Phone, phone, phone – where was your phone?
Grabbing his phone off of the coffee table, your head spun as you dialed 911, crouching next to him as you tried to make out the sound of his breathing.
In a four-in-the-morning fugue, you went through the motions, answering all of the dispatcher’s questions, all of the paramedic’s questions, and all of the nurse’s questions.
The emergency department nurse looked at you sadly, not much more than a pile of limbs in a stiff plastic chair, “Is there anyone I can call for you?”
Swallowing thickly, you shrugged in response. You wanted her to call everyone and no one at the same time, building up walls around yourself made of materials that you couldn’t name. You needed to call Emily. You needed to call Diana. Frowning at the nurse, you gave it another moment of thought before responding, “My sister.”
JJ didn’t answer.
The nurse tried her twice and you called once from your phone, but there was no answer.
Spencer didn’t wake up. Dr. K didn’t seem confident that he would.
Like a metronome, the steady beeping of Spencer’s vital monitor nearly lulled you to sleep until the ringing of a phone interrupted the pattern. Your phone buzzed in your pocket and your stomach lurched at the realization that your sister was finally calling you back, “I have been trying to reach you all morning.”
Your sister was silent on the other side, and you wondered if you had come on too strong. “What happened?”
The world was falling apart around you. Your castle was crumbling with you in it. You looked longingly at Spencer before you answered, “I think he’s dying.”
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Time passed in an inordinate pattern, convincing yourself that hours had passed when it had only been minutes. You had moved your chair to Spencer’s bedside, tracing the scar on the inside of his palm in time with the steady rising and falling of his chest.
“Have you been here all night?” Your older sister’s voice rang from the doorway, she didn’t wait to be welcomed in, immediately moving to the side of the bed opposite to you.
Your eyes followed her hand as she gently set a palm on his shoulder, her blonde hair curling around her face as she studied Spencer’s appearance. Quickly, she caught herself, straightening up and making her way around the bed so that she stood behind you, smoothing a hand through your hair like she did when you were just kids.
Penelope followed behind JJ on a delay, her skin paling at the sight of Spencer in the hospital bed. She stood at the foot of the bed, placing her hands on the footboard and taking several deep breaths.
“I went to bed without him last night. I wasn’t sleeping well, so when I woke up at four in the morning and he hadn’t made it to bed I went to see if he had fallen asleep on the couch, but he was just… on the floor,” You told them absently, watching Spencer as he slept and recalling the way you had found him in the apartment. His body contorted from falling on the ground with a puddle of blood beginning to gather beneath his head.
You couldn’t look at them. You couldn’t look away from him knowing that it could be the last time you see him alive. “What do you need?” JJ asked, continuing to smooth down your hair.
Clasping his hand in yours, you nodded to yourself reassuringly, “Can you call Brookfield? I need to talk to Diana. If she’s lucid enough, can you ask if they can bring her here? If he… she should be here.” Sinking into an abyss of unknowns, at the very least you knew that he’d want his mother here with him.
The two blondes shared a wary look, and you steeled yourself for a difficult conversation. Penelope left to call Brookfield on your behalf, but JJ stayed behind, dragging one of the plastic chairs over to the bed so she could sit next to you. “We got the casualty report back from the medical examiner in Reno,” she informed you; her voice was low – the tone she took up when she wasn’t sure how to navigate a situation.
You nodded in understanding, waiting for the bomb to drop.
“There were six SWAT agents, Roberta Lynch, and Orlando Gaines,” she told you gently, watching your face for any sign of a reaction.
You frowned, expecting her to add Everett Lynch to the tally later on for dramatic effect, but the moment never came, “Oh,” you breathed, looking at Spencer.
JJ continued to explain that, based on the blueprints of the house that he had pilfered from one of his victims, he had likely escaped using a tunnel system beneath the house. The Chameleon was in the wind, and Spencer might just be his latest victim. “We know he’s not done though,” JJ tried to reassure you, “He’ll resurface somewhere.”
“We don’t know where and we don’t know when, though,” you told her, an edge of despair creeping into your voice. He should’ve died. Everett Lynch should be dead, and you shouldn’t be sitting next to Spencer’s hospital bed right now. “And Spencer might die for no reason,” you added. There was a slight chance that you could, someday, find comfort in Spencer succumbing to injuries sustained in a blast that took out The Chameleon, but with Lynch still out there, you were struggling to find any glimpse of a silver lining.
Your sister looked at a loss for words, reaching out her hand and dropping it to your knee when you didn’t take it. She mumbled something about letting it go for Spencer’s sake, but Spencer was unconscious, if you held on to your grudge against your sister, he was none the wiser. It brought you back to something he had told you after Grace Lynch shot you – I don’t want you to forget your anger.
Glancing over at her briefly, you took a deep breath, “You should get back to Quantico – the team will need you to catch Lynch.”
“No,” she said, pinching her brows together, “I’m going to stay here.”
Pursing your lips, you gave her a sidelong glance, “Why?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why are you going to stay here, JJ? Do you want to stay at the hospital for my sake or for Spencer’s?” Keeping your hand tucked into his, you didn’t budge when she pulled her hand off of your knee, and even then, you had your answer. “I’m asking you to please, go back to Quantico and find Everett Lynch. Spencer will have me, his mom, and Penelope with him and I need you to find the person who did this to him. I’m asking you to go, so you aren’t staying for me.”
She was looking at you in pure disbelief, “Ducky, I don’t-“ She faltered, “I thought we were all friends again. You told me you understood where I was coming from.”
Nodding in agreement, you recalled the conversation you had with her while Spencer was with Cat Adams, “I told you I understood how you could be in love with him because I’m in love with him, but I have limits, JJ, and there comes a point where I just can’t understand why you keep using your love as a weapon.”
“I- I’m not,” she insisted, but you could hear the unease in her voice.
You shrugged, “Maybe it’s not your intention, but you are fighting a one-sided battle. You’re married and Spencer and I are engaged, and you have single-handedly destroyed our relationship.”
JJ scoffed in disbelief, “You and Spencer seem to be doing just fine.”
“I’m not talking about me and Spencer, I’m talking about me and you,” you corrected her. “At Rossi’s wedding, you told me that you had meant what you said to Spencer when you were in the pawn shop, and every day since then you have refused to give me the space that I’ve asked for.” Your hands shook as your eyes flittered between her and your fiancé, “You’re my big sister, JJ. You’re always going to be my big sister, and I am always going to love you because of that, but we aren’t friends, so don’t try to pretend you’re doing this for me.”
She tilted her head to the side, “I didn’t want space – you’re my sister.”
“But I needed space,” you emphasized, the one thing that JJ had never seemed to understand. You were the one who got hurt in the process, “I’m tired. I’m so fucking tired, and I can’t pretend to be your friend anymore while you can’t even be a decent sister. You tell me that you and Spencer have all of this history, that you’ve known each other for fifteen years, but you’ve been my sister for thirty-two. You keep asking for me to hear you out, and yet you haven’t once listened to me. Go back to Quantico, go find Lynch, and be my fucking sister.”
You couldn’t be friends with someone who had been long harboring a crush on your partner, and it didn’t make sense for you to make any exceptions for her. “Okay, I’ll um… I’ll go,” she told you, hesitating for a moment before she nodded to herself and walked out of the room. You knew what you told her stung, you were sending her out with her tail between her legs, but you didn't have the gracefulness to coddle her anymore.
Slowly, you leaned your head down, gently setting your chin on the sidebar of Spencer’s hospital bed, keeping a watchful eye on him even as tears streamed down your face.
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Your eyes were dry by the time Diana arrived, being guided by one of her nurses and intercepted by Garcia, who had known better than to ask any questions when your sister left in a hurry. With your sight zeroed in on the rising and falling of Spencer’s chest, you listened to the conversation, “Oh, Diana, hi,” Penelope said, unable to hide the panic in her voice, “Hi, it’s Penelope. I work with Spencer. I’ve come to see you before,” she explained.
Garcia had tagged along multiple times to see Diana at Brookfield, which was likely why they were so receptive when she called the facility. “You’re almost as tall as I am,” Diana responded and your heart sunk, worried that she might not be stable enough to face this.
“Diana,” Penelope continued gently, “Spencer fell, and he hit his head really hard, and he’s not conscious.” Her words were carefully chosen to avoid raising any alarm.
“Well, let’s wake him up,” Diana insisted, and you straightened up at the sound of footsteps approaching, “Let’s see him.”
Penelope practically stumbled in behind her, “No, wait.”
His mother nodded, not even acknowledging you as she walked in, “He’ll listen to me… Spencer,” she called to him. Seconds later, you saw it, the moment the switch in her brain flipped and an internal war started, “it’s not him,” she murmured. “No. No, no, no,” the conviction in her voice broke your heart, “This is not my son.”
Silently, you sat back in your chair, trying to think of something you could say to her to reassure her, but you couldn’t even console yourself.
Then she reached out for his hand, turning his wrist over and exposing the inside of his wrist, the small star-shaped scar that marred his skin facing the ceiling, “Oh, my baby,” she breathed. “Oh, my baby,” she leaned over Spencer, smoothing his hair away from his forehead, cupping his face with her hands, and begging with an unknown force, “Oh, please.”
Unable to tolerate the sight of her begging for Spencer to wake up, you quietly got up from your chair, hugging your arms around yourself before walking out of the room.
For years, Diana and Spencer had been all each other had, and you couldn’t imagine what this was like for her. To have her son fighting for his life in the hospital while she spent every day trying to hold on to fleeting memories of him. You couldn’t watch her, afraid of losing him. It wasn’t supposed to work like that – parents weren’t supposed to have to bury their children.
You thought about calling your mom, knowing she’d drop everything and drive the four hours to come be with you, but maybe it would be cruel. It would be cruel to have her watch a parent lose a child when she had lost her own.
Leaning your head back against the taupe walls of the hospital, you glanced over at Penelope, giving her a stiff smile.
“Hey, you,” she said, shoving her laptop in her bag before making her way over to you. “How are you holding up?”
You laughed humorlessly, digging the heels of your hands into your eyes before looking back up at her, “I’m not entirely sure that I am.”
Her eyes were filled with grief, and you knew that she was another person in Spencer’s life who didn’t deserve more loss, “Can I get you anything? Have you eaten?”
Food had been approximately the last thing on your list of concerns today, but you hadn’t eaten since Reno yesterday. You shook your head, “I’m not hungry,” You were actually a bit queasy, but you weren’t entirely sure if you were nauseous from your current predicament or if it was because you hadn’t eaten anything. “Maybe later,” you tried to appease her.
“Okay,” she sighed, “I don’t know what happened between you and JJ, but I do know that something happened. I might not know what it’s like between sisters, but I do know what it’s like to be a sister.” Garcia gave you a soft smile, “Do you need to talk about it?”
Desperately. Your chest ached at the idea of being able to talk to someone else about what had gone down between you and your sister, but you shook your head, “I’m sworn to secrecy.”
The understanding expression on her face deepened the ache in your chest, but she reached out and pulled you into a hug, “I know the two of you will figure it out.” She pulled away, sweeping tears from under her eyes, “I know you said you’re not hungry, but I’m going to go down to the cafeteria and I’ll get you something to pick at. You look like you need it.”
You smiled at her concern and gave her a small wave as she made her way through the hallways. It was sweet that she had faith in the sororal bond between you and JJ – even more than you had, but you just didn’t see it the way she did. There had always been an expectation of you and JJ growing up that you’d always make up because you were the only sibling that each other had left.
That expectation had led to a lot of issues being swept under the rug, maybe too many issues, but you couldn’t forgive JJ, not fully. Even under the weight of the obligation to forgive her for the sake of your familial tie, you couldn’t let this one go. JJ had broken any semblance of trust between the two of you, and even if you worked to rebuild that trust, the cracks were always going to be there.
When you and Spencer had fought and you knocked a bowl off of the counter, he made a remark about how the bowl could be fixed with kintsugi, but the bowl would always have cracks, no matter how pretty the gold looked in the seams. You and JJ would never get back to where you had been, and now, you were sure that you didn’t want to go back.
Wiping a few stray tears from beneath your eyes, you nodded to yourself before walking back into the hospital room, introducing Diana and Dr. K before the doctor gave you some information, telling you that Spencer’s brain was bleeding.
Tilting your head to the side, “No, I made sure he got an MRI at the hospital. The doctor there told us it was completely clear,” you assured her, remembering how you refused to let Spencer board the jet without getting an MRI.
Dr. K nodded, “We got the scans sent over from the hospital in Reno, there’s a small bleed that was possibly overlooked. From what you’ve told me, it seems like they were overwhelmed and needed to get other people through,” she told you, making it seem like no more than a clerical error.
“So…” you dragged out the vowel, trying to wrap your head around this reality, “His brain’s been bleeding since yesterday?”
The doctor affirmed your suspicions, “Boarding a plane with even the smallest of brain bleeds can have catastrophic consequences. In Spencer’s case, it’s caused intracranial hemorrhaging. Parts of his brain are shutting down and other parts are struggling to survive.”
Your stomach flipped at the mention of his brain shutting down, the term was far too close to brain death for comfort, “Is he… is he already gone, then?” You asked, faltering over your words.
“No,” she gave you some reassurance, “There’s a chance that his brain bleed will resolve on its own.”
“But not a good chance,” you observed, taking Spencer’s hand in your own. “Is there anything that can be done?”
The doctor adjusted the tablet in her hands, “The conservative approach would be surgery. It may reduce the swelling around Spencer’s brain faster. There is risk, it could cause seizures and even more bleeding,” she explained to the both of you.
The image in your mind of brain surgery didn’t bring you any reassurance, you looked up at Diana. Until you and Spencer got married, she was his next of kin. Spencer didn’t have any kind of healthcare directive for a situation like this, and you weren’t entirely sure where to go from here.
His mom shrugged at you, shaking her head, “I thought it was Tuesday, and it’s not Tuesday. So, I can’t tell you,” she answered, looking at you helplessly.
Turning your head to Dr. K, you asked, “Could we have a minute?”
The doctor gave you both an understanding look before stepping out of the room.
“What would he want?” Diana asked you, looking at you expectantly, “I don’t want to make the decision.”
Abhorring the idea that you would be the one to make the decision, you looked up at Diana, “I’m not sure,” you admitted.
“He always says he trusts you the most,” she told you. “Oh, for years in his letters, he’d always talk about you. Even before you started dating – it was always about you in a way I’d never heard him talk about anyone,” she continued, nodding as if she were convincing herself. “If he trusts you that much, then I have no problem trusting you.”
You didn’t want it to be up to you, and before you had the opportunity to answer, the alarm on Spencer’s vital monitor started going off. “Oh my god,” You breathed, moving back to allow the nurses space as they crowded around Spencer’s bed.
“What’s happening to my boy?” Diana asked, placing her hands in front of her mouth in shock, “What is happening to him?”
Watching quietly as he seized, you listened to his mom cry out for him and decided you wanted to wait a bit longer before resorting to surgery.
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Picking at the bread of the sandwich that Penelope had gotten you from the cafeteria, you found yourself more amenable to sipping at the water she had brought you than you were toward actually eating something. According to Garcia, the team was hot on Everett Lynch’s trail, but she wouldn’t give you any more details than that.
Periodically, Spencer’s hand would twitch, but you told yourself it didn’t mean anything. You tried not to get your hopes up, not until Dr. K said something reassuring.
With the doctor in the room, there were four pairs of eyes watching his every move, no matter how minuscule. You leaned back in the chair, gently tracing the lines in his palm, “His… his eyes are fluttering,” you observed aloud, not daring to look away, afraid your mind was playing tricks on you.
“That’s a good sign,” Dr. K said, leaning forward and observing the same thing as you.
Penelope inclined her head to look up at the doctor, “Is he gonna be okay?”
She looked uneasy, “He’s putting up one hell of a fight, but it’s still too early to know for sure,” she answered diplomatically, checking something on her tablet before excusing herself.
Shortly after, Garcia’s phone started to ring, she brought it out into the hallway, letting you know she’d be right back.
Leaving just you and Diana in the room with Spencer, you watched as she continued to smooth his hair back, being able to see the maternal gesture made your chest ache – you never knew how many more moments there would be. “Has he been here before?” She asked you, “In the hospital, like this?”
You nodded slowly, moving through a fog of exhaustion as the day came to an end, “Yes,” you told her, memories of Briscoe County bubbled to the surface.
“Were you there for him?” She continued, wondering if someone had been there for her baby when she couldn’t be.
You had sat around his hospital bed with Alex and Penelope, waiting for him to wake up while Penelope set up Doctor Who figurines throughout the room. “Yes,” you answered again.
“Oh,” she sighed, “How awful,” she commiserated.
While a corrupt precinct wasn’t a new concept to the BAU, that case had been particularly difficult on the team, and there had been a day, much like today, where you weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to tell Spencer you loved him again.
You didn’t tell him you loved him before going to bed last night.
“It was, actually,” you remembered, previously buried memories of time spent in hospital rooms. Months ago, your roles had been reversed, and Spencer had been the one begging you to wake up.
After a moment, Diana leaned forward a bit, “Spencer,” she spoke to him, “I saw some cumuliform heaps today. His favorite clouds,” She added the last bit for you, “I plucked that for him,” she explained as Penelope came back into the room. “Everything is up there, and we pluck what we want when we want, and we let go what we don’t.”
Penelope grinned, “That sounds very good. Okay, I am plucking a memory about Spencer’s eyes, and they are brown with gold on the outside,” she posited. 
Diana hummed, “I think they’re gold on the inside.”
Tantalizingly slowly, Spencer’s eyes started to open, and your heart raced as a mix of emotions flooded through you. As your eyes met him, you smiled sadly and whispered, “Gold on the inside.”
“Hey,” Garcia said, the smile plain in her voice, “we were just plucking eye memories of you.”
He returned the smiles in the room, “I heard you.” Spencer hummed, “Forgot how much I loved those clouds, mom. You helped me remember.”
Diana grinned, any remaining trace of grief wiped from her face, “I did, huh?” Well, maybe I can come back tomorrow, and we can watch clouds together,” she offered.
“Am I still dreaming?” He asked rhetorically.
“Sweetie,” she cupped his cheek with a maternal gentleness, “You are very much alive.”
Once Diana was on her way back to Brookfield and Penelope – still not providing you with any details – left to go check in with the team, you rested your head on the armrest of his hospital bed, maintaining a watchful eye on him. “I love you,” you whispered to him after Dr. K left for the night.
He hummed, tired eyes looking back at you, “You’ve said that three times in the last ten minutes.”
“And?” You inquired, furrowing your brows.
The corner of his mouth quirked up, “And I love you too.”
You smiled at him, “Thank you for having a traumatic brain injury so I could delay my stepmother’s visit.”
At that, he fully grinned up at you, “It was all part of my plan.”
A thousand words rested on the tip of your tongue, asking him how he was feeling and about healthcare directives and how he chose his favorite cloud, but everything felt so important and so inconsequential at the same time.  
“You should go home,” he spoke before you had the chance to, “Get some good rest, sleep in a real bed.”
You shook your head succinctly, “I’m gonna stay here.”
He raised his eyebrows, “The nurses will keep coming in all night and wake you up,” he insisted, knowing well enough that the hospital chairs did not make for a good night’s rest.
“Then it’s a good thing I don’t have anywhere to be but here tomorrow,” you told him, thumbing the fabric of his hospital blanket as you insisted on staying.
Spencer shifted slightly on the bed, trying to get a better look at you, “You need to take care of yourself.”
His concern comforted you, but you still shook your head, “If I don’t stay here next to you, I’ll drive myself crazy. This is the best place for me.” You picked your head up, reaching out to cup his cheek and smiling to yourself when he leaned into your touch. “What’re you thinking about?”
His head lolled lazily on the pillows, brown eyes – with gold on the inside – studying your features like he was trying to make sense of something in his muddled brain, “I had a weird dream.”
Most of the time, Spencer didn’t give credit to dream analysis, so when he had dreams that he deemed inexplicable, he’d make his head spin trying to find a logical reason. “Maybe it’s a side effect of the seizure medication they put you on,” you proposed, skimming the apple of his cheek with the pad of your thumb.
Spencer didn’t look convinced, “I saw people while I was unconscious.” His attempt at explaining gave you more insight on what he was struggling with, he had a complicated relationship with the concept of the afterlife.
“Oh, yeah?” You asked softly, hoping the two of you could talk it out.
He nodded almost indeterminably, “Strauss, Foyet, Gideon,” he elaborated, opening his mouth to add another name, but he faltered when the time came.
“Your brain was looking for manifestations of guilt,” you analyzed, each of those deaths had affected him in one way or another. “Using your past traumas against you,” you continued.
He still seemed unsure, “I’m not sure that’s all of it, some of it, sure, but…”
Your chest ached at the confusion in his gaze, “Was there someone else you saw?”
He sighed, leaning his head back against the pillows and looking at the dimmed fluorescent lights of the hospital room, “A little kid. A girl,” he told you, closing his eyes as if he was trying to recall the child from his dream.
“Well,” you considered it, “If your brain was using the other three as a manifestation of guilt, maybe the little girl is a manifestation of hope. The part of your subconscious telling you to stay formed her to represent the people you can still help.”
Spencer frowned deeply, looking at you again, “I guess I assumed there was a deeper meaning to it.”
You raised your eyebrows, “What else do you think it could be?”
“I thought…” he faltered, “I’m not sure.”
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“Are you alright?” Spencer asked you, already starting to walk through Dave’s house to where everyone was gathering on the patio.
You stood in the foyer, pressing your lips together as you shifted the strap of your purse over your shoulder before finally hanging it up. Looking up at Spencer, you dropped your arms to your sides, “What?”
His eyebrows furrowed in concern, “I asked if you were alright. Are you?”
Your eyes widened, “Oh, oh yeah. It’s just weird, you know? Pen leaving,” the half-truth slipped easily from your lips.
“It feels like everyone’s changing except for us,” he said, returning to you in the foyer so that the two of you could walk outside together.
“Ha,” you said humorlessly, “Right.” Penelope was leaving, having decided that Silicon Valley was too far for her, but landing a job with a nonprofit in D.C. and leaving the BAU behind. Emily was house hunting in Denver, not for a permanent move, but for something for her to share with Andrew.
You and Spencer were staying with the BAU, he wanted to split time between consulting and teaching, similar to what he had done during his sabbaticals. “Well,” he ceded, “We’re not changing much.”
The two of you emerged onto the patio hand-in-hand, being on the receiving end of welcoming smiles that had an air of relief. Everyone was still in that phase of remembering how grateful they were to have him around every time they saw him. “How ya feeling, kid?” Rossi asked, standing around the table with Krystall.
Spencer set his hand on the small of your back before responding, “Feeling great, and I’m starting back next week. Can’t let the team be down two members,” he mused, looking down at you reassuringly.
Next to you, Tara scoffed, “Oh, come on, teaching and consulting? You’re making me look bad.”
“Just doing what I love,” Spencer replied candidly.
Luke raised his champagne, “Hey, I will drink to that,”
You prepared yourself to turn down a drink, thinking up an excuse until Penelope stepped out onto the patio, “Uh, you’re not supposed to start the festivities until the belle of the ball has arrived,” she jokingly protested, giving everyone a little twirl in a very Garcia-fashion.
Leaning into Spencer slightly, the two of you watched as Luke put his hands up in defense, “Don’t worry, okay? ‘Cause this is gonna be the first of many.”
“Penelope!” Kristy called out from across the table, “Congratulations! Here I thought we were coming to celebrate Dave’s retirement, but Matt said it’s your farewell party. And you had like a hundred offers,” she said, beaming from across the table.
Garcia waved her hand in faux humility, “Oh, that’s only if you round up, but yes,” she said excitedly. “Anyway, it’s a nonprofit, it’s close to here, and the dress code is all FBI conservative like I’ve been having to do,” she said, ignoring the doubtful looks that were shared around the table.
“I’m still in denial that you’re leaving,” JJ told her mournfully, a slight frown on her face.
Matt shook his head, “It won’t be the same without you.”
“Better not be,” Penelope scolded, her tone suggesting that she found the idea ridiculous.
Emily leaned over the table to clarify for Kristy, “Dave decided he wasn’t going to retire. He didn’t want the team to go through too much of a transition all at once.”
“That’s ‘cause Dave’s never gonna actually do it,” Krystall interjected, saying what many members of the BAU had also thought.
“Hey,” Rossi protested in mock offense, “Look, being with you all, doing what few others can, that’s where I belong.” He turned to Garcia, “But this night is not about me. To our beloved Penelope – a salut.”
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Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Luke and Penelope wander off to the patio, the two of them seeking out water. You made a mental note to ask her what it was about just as Spencer approached you, “Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you?”
You waved off his concern, making your way over to the house, hoping there were hors d’oeuvres remaining in the kitchen. “I’m fine, this is Pen’s night,” you explained to Spencer as he followed you.
“Right, that’s reassuring,” he responded sardonically, trailing close behind you through the kitchen.
Turning back to him, you pleaded, “Can you let this go? Just for now.”
Spencer frowned, “I thought we were working on our communication.”
Silently, you cursed him for bringing up your therapist’s – who was likely going to have a field day when she found out – tactics. “Spence,” you complained, hating how your voice sounded like a whine.
“Y/N,” he answered in kind.
Groaning, you looked around the kitchen before dragging Spencer into the pantry by his shirt. You flipped the light on and looked up at him, “I had my yearly physical this morning.”
He knew this, in order to remain eligible to stay in the field, everyone needed to have a yearly physical performed by an FBI physician. The concern on his face deepened, “I- Are you okay?”
“I’m pregnant,” you breathed, the words that had been balancing on your tongue for the better of the day. You wished you had been able to give him a better announcement. A card or a onesie, anything would have been better than turning Rossi’s pantry into a confessional.
Instantly, you saw the gears turning in his head as he tried to do the math, “That would mean…” he started, eyes widening as he came to different conclusions.
You nodded, “I’ve been pregnant. They couldn’t give an accurate estimate based on just the blood test and I’ve been trying to figure it out, but-“
“Eight weeks,” Spencer answered, the concern refusing to waver as he studied your appearance.
He was looking for signs and trying to remember symptoms, and you didn’t blame him. You had always assumed you’d have some idea, but you were so shocked that the FBI physician had insisted that you lay down before driving home.
The same surprise was pasted across Spencer’s face now, his hands tentatively placed on either side of your waist, thumbs hovering over your abdomen, “You were pregnant when the house blew up in Reno.” His voice solemn as he held back any excitement, “Did the doctor… is everything alright?”
“He said if anything had happened as a result of the blast, we’d know by now,” you offered some reassurance, having shared the same worry when you found out that morning. You wanted him to be happy, because once Spencer was happy about this, you could be happy.
Spencer shifted his weight, “But you made an appointment with an obstetrician, right?”
Slouching slightly, you looked up at him, “First thing Monday morning. Spencer-“
“If I had known, I never would’ve let you go to Nevada,” he interrupted, instantly protective.
“Spencer,” you startled him, “Are you happy?”
He paused and your chest ached more and more with every moment he remained silent, “Did you think that I wouldn’t be?”
You released a small sigh of relief, smiling at him sheepishly, “It’s just… it’s a surprise,” you offered quietly. “Is it awful timing?”
“No,” he insisted, pulling you in by the waist and wrapping his arms around you. He leaned his head down, tucking his face into the crook of your neck, “It’s perfect,” he reassured you. “I love you,” he whispered, voice muffled as he held you tightly – held you together.
The two of you remained that way until a knock at the door came, “Hey, uh,” Luke’s voice rang out from the other side of the door, “If you guys are doing freaky shit in Rossi’s pantry he’s gonna be pissed.”
Standing up straight, you clasped your hand over your mouth in an attempt to cover up your laugh. Spencer looked equally as amused, dropping a kiss to your lips before reaching behind you to open the door, revealing Luke and his impish grin.
He threw his hands up in the air, looking at the both of you as he walked backward out the door, “I was sent in to get you. Rumor has it they’re about to play the belle of the ball’s favorite song.”
You and Spencer shared a knowing look, “Heroes,” the both of you said in unison.
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wolverigrl · 3 months ago
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The Beauty and the Beast
Logan Howlett x Reader!mutant!
Soo I've decided to try out writing one shots again. The last time I did that.. oh hell.. definitely some years ago. So please don't judge if it's not a masterpiece. I hope you still enjoy this imaginary! <3
Please let me know what you think about it!
Warnings: Mostly fluff, maybe here and there some swearing, but that's all
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It was one of those fun evenings that you could only experience if you lived with Wade Wilson. Today, however, was a special occasion: Wade's house party.
The apartment that Y/N shared with Blind Al and him was filled with many different people - friends that Wade had made over the years. And then there was the new roommate, Logan Howlett, who most people only knew as Wolverine. He actually came from a different timeline, but after they both fought Cassandra Nova, Logan was more like stranded in this universe. According to Wade's brief tales, the Wolverine unfortunately had no future in his world, but he did in theirs.
Y/N, unlike Wilson, was a quiet person. One who rarely said much, but always listened and observed. She was the perfect example of still waters run deep. It was this calmness that fascinated Wade from the very beginning when they met in that cruel experimental camp. They both went through hell and became mutants in the end.
Y/N developed the ability to project the pain and feelings of others onto herself or onto others - a power that was both a curse and a blessing. Wade, with his regenerative ability and wacky sense of humor, had quickly become a steady anchor for her. He was her best friend who understood her like no one else. She lost her memory as a result of the human despising experiments, which is why she still doesn't know exactly who she is today.
They had stuck together ever since they had escaped the camp, and Wade never hesitated to make fun of Y/N's quieter ways - in his own affectionate way.
Lately, though, he found a new target for his jokes: Logan and Y/N. It hadn't escaped Wade's notice, nor Blind Al's, that there was an unspoken tension between the two, even though they had barely spoken since Logan moved in.
Y/N had kept an eye on Logan from day one. It was hard not to. He was, after all, an imposing figure - broad shouldered, muscular, with an prominent face and those eyes that always looked a little melancholy, as if they had seen and suffered too much. His kitty cat hair and beard, which Wade loved to make the target of his jokes, gave him an almost animalistic appearance.
Every morning, Logan and y/n met almost simultaneously in the apartment because they had one thing in common. Insomnia. In the kitchen, Logan prepared coffee for both of them, and she made breakfast or dinner in return. They ate together in silence, but they both always looked at each other when the other wasn't looking. If their eyes met, they both gave each other a warm smile. Sometimes, it was irritating for Logan that he was hardly ever grumpy towards her, but he couldn't even help it.
One evening, Y/n came home after a walk. She took her towel and clothes from her room and walked into the bathroom. To her surprise, she saw Logan standing in front of her in just a towel tied around his hips. His hair was wet, just like his upper body. He turned to her and cleared his throat.
"Sorry about that. I'm almost done." He said in his deep voice.
Y/n felt the warmth on her face. There was a lot of humidity and heat in the room, which made it feel harder for her to breathe properly after seeing him like that. Before she nodded and left the room, she couldn't help but let her eyes wander over Logan's body again. She had to admit that she found him incredibly attractive.
But it wasn't just his looks that attracted Y/N; it was the depth that lay within him, a darkness she knew all too well.
Wade noticed those looks from day one and couldn't help but comment on them every time. At breakfast, Y/N sat quietly, absorbed in her thoughts, when Wade came in, tousled her hair, and said, "Good morning, sunshine! Are you dreaming about our hairy roommate again? Tell me, do you prefer him in flannel or without anything?"
Grinning, he put his head on Logan's shoulder, who was looking into the open fridge.
Y/N choked on her coffee and started coughing like mad.
Logan, in return, roughly pulled his shoulder away and tensed his jaw.
"Bub, you really want to go through the void scenario again?" Logan growled, closing the fridge. Wade just laughed out loud and stood behind y/n.
"Oh please, Logan! You know, well, I'm just teasing you." replied Wade, unimpressed. He started massaging y/n's shoulders and added with a wink: "But honestly, y/n why so shy? Don't be so old school and make the first move yourself. I mean, Logan may look like a wild animal, but deep down, he's a cuddly bear."
Blind Al walked by the open kitchen door and just shook her head and mumbled, "One day Logan's really gonna rip his head off, and I'm gonna fucking enjoy it."
That night, while the party was playing at full volume and Wade was getting into over-the-top shenanigans with the guests, Logan suddenly realized that y/n was no longer in the room. He looked around, but it was as if she had vanished into thin air. His eyes wandered to the window front that led to a fire escape. By now, he knew that it was typical for her to hide in places like this when the crowd got too much for her.
Logan pushed his way through the people and stepped out into the cool night. There, on the fire escape, he found y/n. She was sitting on the metal step, her arms wrapped around her knees and staring off into the distance. The lights of the city glittered before her like an endless sea.
"Are you here to hide from Wade, or are you just enjoying the view?" Logan finally asked, his voice quiet and low.
Y/n smiled faintly. "Maybe a little of both. Sometimes I just need a moment to think, you know?"
He nodded thoughtfully, though he knew she didn't look at him.
"I know what it's like, bub. Sometimes, it's hard to get a clear head when everything around you is so loud."
"Yeah." she replied quietly before adding after a pause, "But you know what I still don't understand? How someone like Wade managed to get someone like you soft."
Logan snorted and gave her a skeptical look. "Soft? That's not exactly the word I'd choose."
Y/n smiled. "Oh come on. You never would have gotten yourself into such a mess if there wasn't something about Wade that made you...let's say, more human."
Logan scanned her face in the dark with a smile and stopped his eyes on her lips.
"Maybe you're right," he murmured with a smile. "Or maybe I've just gone crazy."
He sat down next to her, and the metal creaked softly under his weight. They sat side by side in silence for a while, listening to the distant hum of the city and the muffled noise of the party behind them.
"It's nice out here," Logan finally said and leaned back. He put his head back in the neck, closed his eyes, and breathed in the cool air.
Y/n looked over at him and felt a comforting warmth in her stomach area as her eyes traveled from his profile down to his neck and then to his muscular torso.
Y/n smiled. "I like being here when your own world is a little noisy."
Logan opened his eyes again and nodded as if he knew exactly what she meant. "I understand what you mean. Sometimes, you just need distance."
Y/n looked at the city again for a moment. There was a brief, comfortable silence.
Her voice was soft, almost hesitant. "May I ask what your real story is?"
He looked at her sideways, surprised by her question, but then he looked off into the distance. "I've lost a lot. More than any human should have to bear... and it's all my own fault." He paused as if collecting himself before continuing. "I was born in the early 1800s. Went through all that crap - wars, experiments, the loss of people I cared about. And then I became... what I am today. A man with a skeleton made of adamantium, unable to die." he sighed.
"One night, a group of humans went mutant hunting and attacked the X-Men. I had just tumbled out of the nearest bar and heard the screams of my own people."
He began to play with his hands and became tense before continuing on about how he didn't help his team and let them die.
Y/n listened attentively without interrupting him. Her sympathy for him grew, so she slowly began to project his feelings onto herself. She felt incredibly sorry to see him like this. He had already been through so much and now it was all coming up again because of her curiosity.
She could feel all the hatred and sadness that was deep inside him. With tears in her eyes and a lump in her throat, she looked at her hands.
Logan furrowed his eyebrows and suddenly fell silent. He didn't feel a single emotion when he continued his story. Not like he was used to. He looked to Y/n.
"What are you doing to me?" he asked in a calm voice.
Y/n's head lifted, and she blinked away her tears, smiling. "I'm sorry." She said softly and put her hand on his.
Silence for a moment. Logan stared at their hands and realized what just happened. He looked at her.
"I've learned to deal with it, bub. As best I can."
They were both silent for a while, lost in thoughts. Finally, it was Logan who broke the silence again. "And you? How did you get your powers?"
Y/n took a deep breath before she began. "Unfortunately, I can only remember the day I was taken to the experimental camp. They ran various tests on me there. Wade was there too, at the same time. We got to know each other there."
She paused as the memory of those horrible days overcame her. Logan squeezed her hand lightly, as if to let her know she wasn't alone.
"Wade and I kept each other alive," she continued softly. "Without him, I probably wouldn't still be here. He made me laugh, even in the worst moments. And at some point, we managed to escape. Since then... well, he's kept me on my toes ever since. Eventually, I made a new friend and now have powers that allow me to project the feelings and pain of others onto myself."
Logan nodded in understanding. "Wade may be crazy, but he's got a big heart. Even if he likes to hide it behind his stupid sayings."
Y/n smiled at those words. "Yeah, that's true. He's my best friend. Without him, I don't think I would have ever found my way out of my darkness."
"Then I guess I owe him," Logan said, his gaze soft but serious.
"Maybe," Y/n replied softly. Their eyes met, and in that moment, the connection between them felt stronger than ever. It was as if they understood each other through their shared experiences and the pain they both knew.
Logan looked at y/n, and in her eyes he recognized a pain so similar to his own that it almost took his breath away.
The distance between them seemed to close as they leaned towards each other, as if drawn by some unseen force.
"Logan..." Y/n whispered barely audibly as her eyes slid to his lips.
He didn't answer with words. Instead, he removed his hand from hers and placed it on her cheek. His thumb gently stroked her skin. The world around them seemed to blur as they drew even closer. It was as if they only existed in that moment. Only for each other.
And then, without further hesitation, Logan closed the last few inches between them. His lips met hers, gently at first, almost hesitantly, as if testing to see if she was about to pull away. Y/n's eyes closed as she returned the kiss and her hand finding its way to his neck as she let herself fall deeper into the kiss.
It was a kiss full of unspoken words, full of emotions that neither of them had been able to express before.
The world around them disappeared, there was only the feeling of their lips meeting in a mixture of tenderness and desire. But as beautiful as this case was, it was interrupted with a familiar voice.
"Heyy are you two making out here? Without me?" Wade's voice boomed into the night, accompanied by his trademark wide grin.
"Logan, you old romantic, you really picked the perfect moment to start a fling with y/n. Shall I get the camera? Wait a minute, I need popcorn too - what's on today, 'Beauty and the Beast'?"
Logan immediately backed off, while y/n slapped a hand over her face, half annoyed, half amused. "Gosh Wade..." she began, but he interrupted her immediately.
"What? I mean, I totally get it - Logan is a sight to behold! And those biceps, mmmh! But honestly, Logan! You, the man who usually stares at walls like they're his greatest enemies, are suddenly in the middle of a rom-com moment? What's next? Candle light dinner and a love song in the background?
Tell me you at least have some cool lines in store before you fuck her!"
Y/n reached out with her hand and smacked Wade's thigh, laughing. Her embarrassment was forgotten.
Logan, on the other hand, sighed deeply and rubbed his eyes as if trying to erase Wade's voice from his brain.
"For fuck's sake Wade, I swear, if you-"
"Yeah, yeah, I know, 'if I say one more sentence, I'll have your claws up my ass'. Been there, done that."
Wade grinned broadly and winked at y/n.
"But, y/n, come on, I need to know - how does it feel sucking on the lips of the King of grumpiness? Electrifying? Did you feel sparks? Or did he just taste like whiskey and world weariness?"
Y/n couldn't help but shook her head with a laugh and looked at Logan. He scanned her face and you'd swear the corners of his mouth were twitching upwards.
"Wade" Logan admonished, his voice an octave lower, "if you don't get out of here right now, you might not live to see your next birthday."
Wade raised his hands in a gesture of peace.
"Hey, I didn't mean to interrupt you two lovebirds. But seriously, Logan, if you've come this far, do it right! A kiss under the stars? Come on, it's movie material!"
Y/n looked back up at Wade with a smile. Logan just shook his head, but a small smile crept onto his face.
"You're impossible, Wade."
"And that's exactly why you two love me so much! Now get your bums in here before Blind Al starts beating us all with her crutches!"
Wade winked at them before disappearing back into the apartment, still laughing.
Y/n and Logan glanced at each other, and an unspoken understanding passed between them. The moment had been shattered, but the connection they felt remained.
"He really is crazy," Logan finally muttered as they stood up.
"Yeah" Y/N replied with a soft smile. "But he brings out the best in us, doesn't he?"
"I guess he does," Logan agreed before he put a hand on her back, and they both stepped back into the noisy, chaotic world inside where Wade was surely already planning their next escapade.
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evilgwrl · 3 months ago
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Captain Price x Reader
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One Job
Summary: You’re his assistant and he needs help with something a bit more… physical
CW (MDNI): Fingering, oral sex (m&f receiving), unprotected PIV, creampie, some degradation, praise :)))), Price is a bit mean to you oops, spitting, ROUGH sex, age gap (legal ofc), hints of manipulation(?), sir kink???, dom price, sub reader
Word Count: 3,304
Masterlist
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Working for the Military was a difficult job. Sure, you weren’t doing any physical labor but my God, the demands some of these men had pushed you to the absolute limit, the fluttering of a migraine swarming you like bees the moment you stepped foot on base.
It wasn’t their fault, they spent most of their time training, or fighting, or off hunting down a terrorist so if you could help them out by completing some of their much needed paperwork, you were happy to oblige. I mean, who could say no to dear Johnny’s face?
For the most part, your work was thorough, always completing it to the best of your ability and you were very proud of that. However, sometimes you happen to accidentally neglect the man you’re actually here for.
Captain Price.
While you were technically only his assistant, it was so difficult to turn down the other men. Their gruelling faces and scarred hands always felt like a knife twisting in you as you quickly grabbed their paperwork, ushering that this was going to be the last time you would help them out (it wasn’t).
So now, you find yourself here, sitting nervously in the leather chair across from the Captain’s desk, irritated scowl on his face as he inhaled his cigar, a thick puff of smoke exhibiting across the room before he placed it on the ash tray.
He rubbed his hands across his exhausted face as he sighed, “Sweetheart, I told you I needed that paperwork done by today and sent off to Laswell. I knew it was going to be a lot to handle so I purposely gave it to you early and have left you alone since.”
His tone was harsh and disappointed. You felt like a child being scolded for accidentally breaking something important.
“Sir, I-“
“You think I don’t know that you spend your time helping out my other men? I mean Christ, I understand you want to feel important around here but how will anyone take you seriously if you can’t even do the work for the one person you’re supposed to do it for,” his words were cruel, degrading you as you stooped lower into the chair, a pit forming in your belly as you avoided his angry eyes.
“Sir, I understand that I made a mistak-“
“Mistake?” He spat, voice growing gradually louder, “This isn’t a mistake, y/n, you neglected the work you were supposed to be doing all because you wanted to impress a few men in the military!”
You looked up at him, his words stinging you. You weren’t trying to impress them, you were only trying to help. “Captain Price, I understand your anger but you don’t need to result to shaming me,” your voice was heavy, the undertones of embarrassment evident as you diverted your tear-streaked eyes.
He let out a deep sigh, taking in your skulking frame. “This work is important, y/n, if you can’t handle it, I think it’s best if you either transfer or resign.”
Transfer? Resign? You had worked your ass off for over a year. Dealing with his shit, Soap’s shit, Ghost’s shit, Gaz’s shit! You make one mistake and suddenly you’re incompetent?
“I’ve been slaving away for you for over a year now. I understand that work is important and I can guarantee you that I can get it done by today, the latest by tomorrow, so instead of sitting here and lecturing me, when you know damn well how capable I am is a waste of both our times!”
You didn’t mean to yell, he knew that by the quickly changed expression once you had stopped. “Are you done?” He asked, voice gentle.
You nodded, embarrassed, as he handed you the paperwork, your nimbly fingers gripping onto them as you quickly left his office, kitten heels clicking against the floor as you scrambled to your own space.
By the time you were done, the sun had well set and almost everyone had gone home. You were praying that included Price. You turned off your little lamp, clutching your shoulder bag as you neatly stacked the paperwork in your arms, putting off the walk to his office.
Your walk sounded throughout the hallway, evident anxiety on your face as you stood outside the door, the large CAPTAIN JOHN PRICE sign glaring back at you. You sounded a small knock, praying no one answered but you found yourself letting out a small groan once you heard a deep, ‘come in’.
You opened the door nervously, palms clammy as you looked at him, nearly empty glass of scotch on his desk and his tired eyes glaring back at you.
“Sir, I finished it,” you said, placing the paperwork on his desk, “I’m sorry that it’s slightly overdue. It won’t happen again.”
He let out a breath, gentle smile on his face as he gestured you to sit down. You awkwardly obliged, fighting the ability to follow his order, but also to excuse yourself.
“Listen sweetheart, I’m sorry about what I said. You’re a very capable young woman, you’ve helped me, us, all. I just don’t want you to take on things that you don’t want to. The boys are very grown men, they kill for a living, doing a tiny bit of paperwork won’t dent their fingers.”
“I understand that, Sir.. I just.. want to help, I guess. It feels nice knowing people, important people, come to me for help… and even if it’s just because they don’t want to it themselves, it makes me feel good knowing they trust me to do it.”
“Like I said, you’re very capable. Just don’t want my men stealing my best girl I suppose.”
His words took you off guard, heat rising in your face as you looked down, a nervous laugh leaving your lips. “I try my best for you Sir,” you reply, still avoiding eye contact.
“Didn’t mean those things earlier, you know that?”
You nodded, still looking down as he cleared his throat. “Come ‘ere,” he said, voice gruff as he tapped on his desk.
You looked at him in surprise, mouth forming an ‘o’ shape as you hesitatingly got up, walking over to his side before plonking your ass down gently, almost like you were testing the waters.
“I’m sure you could handle anything I gave you, hm?” His tone was sickly, a teasing arrogance lacing his every word as you felt his hand graze your stocking-covered thigh, pencil skirt riding up at your seated position.
You nodded, mouth suddenly going dry, barely being able to think as you felt his every stroke against you.
“I asked you a question, didn’t I?”
“Y-Yes sir, yes, I can handle whatever you give me.”
He smiled, looking pleased as he stroked further up your thigh before placing a gentle kiss right above your knee. Nerves bubbled in your belly. Of course you wanted this. It was Price. You mainly took the job because you enjoyed looking at him, his rugged frame, laced with muscle from the years of hard work, tall body towering you whenever you stood too close.
His eyes watched you twitch slightly as his movements, taking in how nervous you were, yet so, so obedient. “You wanna prove to me how capable you are, hm?”
“Yes sir,” you nodded, your lips dry as your tongue darted out to lick them, cerulean blue darting down to watch the muscle lap at the fullness of them.
“On your knees,” he commanded as you immediately hopped off the table, dropping almost desperately to the floor as you perched between his thighs. His cargo pants were tight, almost straining against the visible hump near his crotch. Your mouth practically watered at how well he was filling them out.
Your hands gently reached up, stroking his covered bulge as you finally took in just how big he was. You weren’t a virgin, but if he was as big as you could feel, you just weren’t sure it would fit.
No, you could take it. You would show him you could take whatever he gives you.
His veined hands reached up to tug down the zipper, standing briefly as they dropped to his feet, now standing in his boxers. His cock was thick, practically tearing through the thin fabric as your eyes focused on the dark, wet patch prominent next to the head.
You watched carefully as he tugged them down too, thick, angry cock bulging out as you took in the sheer size of it. Jesus fucking Christ.
He took in the nerves in your eyes, hand reaching down to stroke your cheek as your eyes ogled the ginormous girth in-front of you. “Still think you can handle it?” His tone was cheeky, almost mocking as his thumb graced over your lips.
You didn’t reply, only reaching forward to balance yourself on his thighs, hand wrapping around the base of his cock as you kitten licked the tip. You could taste his salty precum, a string of saliva connected your mouth to his member before he hissed, your lips wrapping around the tip as you sucked gently, your eyes looking up at his face.
You pulled back and spat, a thick glob of saliva landing on his throbbing head as you curled your wrists around, lubricating it before taking him back into your mouth. You steadied your movements, building a strong pace as your head bobbled, taking him down your throat slightly as you gagged, your other hand working the remainder of what wouldn’t fit.
A hand wrapped around the base of your hair as he guided your movements, his hips bucking slightly as he groaned.
“That’s it baby, take my dick. Doing such a good job.”
His praise only edged you on, your mouth taking more of him as you spluttered, tears welling in your eyes as you watched his face contort with pleasure through wet lashes.
Your other hand nestled at his balls, thick hair lightly covering it as he practically growled at the sensation. You could feel his pubic hair against your nose as you swallowed around his cock, spit stringing down your chin making you look almost pornographic.
His grunts and moans egged you on as you continued to bob up and down his legs before he was pulling you off of him, his cock throbbing angrily, tip flushed a deep red as you gasped for air.
“I’ll cum down your throat another time, pretty, okay? Right now I gotta feel how tight your cunt is around me.”
You yelped in response, hands grabbing to lift you back up onto the table as he stood up, digits grabbing out to undo the buttons of your blouse before he growled, frustrated taking over him as he ripped it, the sound of buttons flinging across the room as you gasped.
“My shirt-“ you squealed as you felt his hands dive towards your chest, pulling your bra down to pool at your stomach before his hungry mouth was on his chest, licking and sucking and biting at whatever he would as you moaned. You held the back of his neck, rubbing gently as he took a nipple into his mouth, tugging on it gently with his mouth before pulling away to do the same to the other.
He looked up at you, gaze almost starving as he smashed his mouth against yours, your tongues fighting rapidly against each other as you tasted the residue of his alcohol, longing for more. You felt his hands grope at your waist, tugging down your skirt as you quickly stood up, lips still connected as you pulled it off, along with your stockings and panties. You kicked off your heels as he laid you against the table before pulling away from your lips.
You brought your knees up, spreading your legs slightly as he growled at your exposure, two fingers reaching down to dive into your dripping slit, gathering your slick in between before pulling them apart, the evident string making him let out a dry laugh.
“All that for me, love?” He groaned, fingers rubbing at your pulsing clit as he took in your wetness.
“Y-yes sir,” you admitted, slightly embarrassed at how much of a hold he had over you, over your cunt.
“Dirty girl, hm? All desperate for your Captain?”
You whined at the degrading words whilst you nodded, “Just you, Sir.”
He seemed pleased with your answer, his touch almost possessive as you felt two fingers at your entrance before they graced the tight hole, sliding inside with ease as a mortifying squelch filled the room.
His fingers reached places that you didn’t even notice existed as you whined, hips bucking before he lifted your thighs over his shoulder before bending down to lick a fat stripe up your wet heat. You gasped at the sensation, hand jolting down to rest on his scalp as he began to lick and suck at your sweetness, practically growling into it as he lapped at whatever he could.
You felt like you were in heaven. His beard scratched along the plush on your thighs as he worked his two digits against your sweet spot, his lips and tongue sucking at your folds and swollen clit.
“Oh fuck, Sir, please I’m gonna cum,” you whined as he quickened his pace, a tight coil forming in your stomach as your breathing became heavy. You let out a pathetic whine as your head fell back, his spare hand holding your waist as he continued his fevered movements, the coil in your stomach snapping as you moaned his name followed by a string of expletives.
“Tastes so fucking sweet, so good for me,” he growled as he watched you twitch, overstimulated by his actions before he pulled away, reaching up to grapple you with another bruising kiss. You felt the wetness of his beard and it made you even hornier as he kissed you with such need.
His hands gripped your hips, the force most likely going to form subtle bruises as he dragged you closer to him. You broke away from the kiss, your forehead leaning against his as you looked down at this cock, wrapping a hand around it, thumb darting over the precum as he hissed before watching you drag it over your tongue, a pleased hum leaving your lips.
“Dirty fucking girl, so pathetic for her superior, huh?”
His words were like poison, you lived off of it. You had no idea how you would be able to work around him after this. He didn’t take well to the silence, a spank landing against your pussy as you gasped, body jolting slightly.
“Speak when you’re spoken to,” he commanded, his hand reaching up to grip your cheeks before he asked you to open, your mouth immediately obliging as he leaned down, a wad of his spit landing perfectly on your tongue as you swallowed. He hummed at it, his own hand reaching down to grab his cock, slapping it against your puffed clit a few times causing you to squirm at the delicious sensation.
“P-Please sir, I need you.” Your tone was desperate, soft tears filling your eyes as he rubbed the head of his cock up and down your wet folds.
He tsked. “Just a needy slut for me, hm?”
You nodded, a gasp leaving your lips as you felt his thick head prod at your entrance, your hand immediately pushed against his chest at the burning intrusion before he grabbed it.
“Relax for me, love, you can take it.”
You let out a shallow breath as he laced your fingers together, your pussy fluttering as he pushed it deeper and deeper. He was massive, the burn absolutely ramming through you as you waited for him to bottom out.
“That’s it baby, I’ve got you. Taking me so fucking well.” His words encouraged you as you wrapped a leg around his waist, welcoming him before you pressed your lips against his, dragging him towards you using your leg as an emphasis to hurry up.
He laughed against your lips as a hand wrapped around your jaw, pulling away to pepper kisses along your neck before he thrusted slightly, the entirety of him now inside you as you practically yelped at how full you felt.
“Tight fucking thing, gripping me like crazy,” he gruffed, spare hand reaching down to thumb at your clit before he pulled out most of the way before slamming back in.
You felt all the air leave your lungs as you moaned, your sounds high pitched as he began to slam his hips against yours, thumb circling your clit as you could feel him practically kiss your cervix.
“Holy fuck,” you choked out as you wrapped your arms around his neck, nestling your face into the crevice as you bit down lightly to conceal your pathetic sounds.
He was a grunting mess as he praised you, coaxing you to cum around his cock as you felt him practically in your throat.
You were babbling at this point, your words slurring at how much pleasure you were in as he continued to pound into you at a brutal pace, other hand roughly groping at your right breast, tugging the sensitive nipple as your eyes rolled back.
“Take that fucking dick,” he growled out at you as he continued his abuse against your clit, his other hand now reaching up to grab your neck as he pulled you away from hiding, leading you into another kiss as his hips mashed against yours.
You could barely kiss him back, the pleasure blinding you as your eyebrows scrunched together, delicious expression written on your face as it egged him on to fuck you harder.
“Holy - fuck,” you whined as you felt your second orgasm building up. The coil seemed never ending, his rough thrusts sending you into a spiral before you screamed out, pussy clenching desperately around his cock as it attempted to milk him, his hand jolting tighter around your neck as his rhythms got more sloppy, a loud grunt leaving his mouth.
“Gonna make me cum soon, sweet’art,” he grumbled against your lips as he continued his bruising pace, your pussy moulding to the shape of his cock.
“Inside me.. please, please, Sir,” you whined desperately and somehow, he began to fuck you even harder, almost like he wanted to cum quicker just to fill you up with it.
His hands reached down to your hips, pace deadly as slaps and grunts filled the room and you knew you would feel his grip for days. He let out a staggered breath, his thrusts getting sloppy before he let out a groan.
You could feel his cock pulsing inside you, hot spurts of cum emptying into your womb as you whimpered, his head falling into your neck as his seed pumped into you.
He kept his cock inside you for a little after he finished emptying everything he could give you, soft pants filling the room, your bodies practically merged into one as sweats clung to every fibre you had.
You fell flush against the table as he pulled out, his cum pooling at your entrance as it began to leak out, his possessive fingers rushing to push it back in as his fingers swirled against your slit before pinching lightly at your abused clit.
“You okay?” He asked, gaze softening as he took in your fucked out expression. Your throat was dry, a croak of an “I’m okay” slipping out as he laughed, rubbing a gentle hand against your waist.
“Proud of you,” he cooed, his softening cock still out as he grabbed some water for you in his miniature fridge which you took gratefully.
“Guess you proved you could take anything I give you.”
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wileys-russo · 4 months ago
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ahem. You. I have a foxy request— her obsession with her kindle while she’s dating you, perhaps? You don’t want to go paperless, but Foxy keeps trying to convince you to get a kindle. She’ll hide your book and make comments like “but if you had a kindle” and teasingly roll her eyes, but it goes both ways? Maybe R is taller than her, so one day she takes emily’s kindle and holds it over her head and emily tries to get it back and R just keeps gently tapping her head with the kindle before holding it back up. Absolutely no pressure, this just sounded like smth down your alley?
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brand deal II e.fox
“em?” you called out hesitantly, frowning as the majority of the lights were switched off in your apartment and you let yourself in. “emily?” you called again, hair pricking up on the back of your neck as you took a few cautious steps forward.
“where is she?” you mumbled with a frown, knowing she was in fact here given she’d called you about five minutes ago as you were pulling into the parking garage to check when you’d be home.
you settled a little as you flicked on the living room lights, hanging your bag up and shrugging off your puffer jacket. “you’re back!” you screamed and almost fell over at the new voice interrupting the thick silence.
“don’t do that!” you scowled at your girlfriend, kicking off your shoes as she made her way closer with a grin. “do what? say hi?” the brunette teased as your facial expression remained unamused.
“why were all the lights off you freak? i called out for you twice!” you defended, making your way into the kitchen to wash your hands.
having caught your neighbours practically pantsless in your buildings elevator the other day you’d made sure to thoroughly wash your hands every time you had to enter it since.
“well it was light outside when i started this chapter, and now…many chapters later, it’s dark.” emily shrugged in explanation as you gave her an odd look.
“you were reading…in the dark?” “yes." "do you have like some superhuman ability to see in the dark that you just never told me about?" "obviously?"
"oh well sorry i didn't realise i was dating a mutant!" you teased with a roll of your eyes, your girlfriend smiling in amusement. "you don't need the lights on to read on a kindle babe." the american revealed the truth as you rolled your eyes again but this time less playfully.
"you know if you had one-" "don't try to brand deal me fox, i know all your little tricks."
"no come on, don't be like that!" emily laughed at your obvious disdain as you moved to start rummaging through the fridge. "like what exactly?" you sighed, tapping your foot trying to magically conjure up what you were going to cook for dinner with your severe lack of groceries.
the two of you were going away for a few days since there wasn't a game this weekend for arsenal and the girls were given some time off, so you'd both put off buying anything which might perish while you were gone.
"like such a negative nelly." "you are so american sometimes its painful." "hey! you were living in the states by your own choice when we met, thank you."
"emily i truly believe that if it was put to you that you had to choose between being with me or never reading on that stupid thing again, you'd choose the kindle." you pivoted back to the original subject making the brunette chuckle.
"and if i said you might be correct?" she grinned teasingly as you pulled your head out of the fridge to shoot her an unimpressed glare in warning.
"joking, i'm joking! just using my delightful sense of humor that helped you fall so in love with me in the first place." your girlfriend smiled charmingly as you hummed and bit back a smile of your own.
"since we have no food, how about i take you and paige to dinner?" emily offered, leaning around you and snagging a half empty bowl of strawberries out of the fridge, pulling herself up to sit on the counter to pick at them.
"me and who?" you closed the fridge and turned to look at her with confusion, untwisting the cap on a bottle of water and taking a sip. "paige." emily echoed as you waited for her to elaborate which she never did, just smiling at you as if nothing was wrong.
"who is paige?" you sighed, sensing you likely weren't going to enjoy her answer as the grin on her face grew.
"my kindle." "you named that thing?" "yes and you'll call her accordingly!" the brunette pointed with a playful glare. "darling i would so sincerely rather stick toothpicks into my eyes than address your kindle as if its a living thing."
"paige, address paige as a living thing." "are you cheating on me with an e-book fox?" "well she doesn't argue with me and nag me about doing my laundry after a game." "emily!" "just joking, joking again! trying to make you laugh since you have the most musical laugh babe." "kiss my ass fox." "who sounds american now?"
~
your rivarly with 'paige' only got worse as time went on, specifically as you both checked into the hotel you'd be staying at over the weekend for your little getaway.
your girlfriend had at least not pulled her kindle out the entire flight, the two of you playing a few very spirited rounds of her favourite card game instead and catching up on a few episodes of community which she had you watching for the first time.
but no sooner had you both gone out for a lovely meal together and a walk around town, retiring to the room for a glass of wine and some downtime, did paige resurface and not in the way you were expecting.
"em did you repack my case?" you questioned, sat on your knees and rifling around with a frown as your girlfriend had already settled herself in bed with her kindle in her lap ready to go.
"yeah you said i could put my big grey coat in if it fit, remember?" your girlfriend reminded as you hummed, eyebrows furrowing as you hunted around for what you wanted but came up empty handed.
"what have you lost baby?" the defender questioned as you unpacked and repacked your case for the second time.
"my books. i packed three of them and i can't find them? and i know they were in here because i was texting with lia about the series last night as i packed." you huffed in annoyance, sitting back and glaring at your now messed up case as if they might make them magically appear.
"oh those? yeah they're at home." the american confirmed, sitting up and fluffing the pillow behind her as your head slowly turned. "they're what?" you asked slowly, unsure if you'd misheard her.
"they're at home." her fingers flew across the screen with a slick click clack as she typed in the password to the kindle, not even looking at you and missing the way your eyes narrowed toward her.
"as in...they're still in london. "well that is where we live." "why are they at home?" "i unpacked them, you didn't need them." "i don't need them?" "nope."
again you waited for her to expand a little, even clearing your throat as she glanced toward you with a smile and going back to her kindle. "emily why wouldn't i need them!" you stood now, moving to stand at the end of the bed with crossed arms and a scowl.
"well if you had a kindle, you could just download whatever books you want and carry an entire library in your bag instead, without the dead weight." "are you trying to market me again? i told you i am not buying one."
"you don't need to." your girlfriend shrugged as you scoffed and threw your hands up in the air. "why? because you could click your fingers and have one magically appear for free?" you jutted your hip out and raised an eyebrow.
"you know you look very hot when you're getting all mad and dramatic." the american grinned, successfully winding you up more. "where are you going?" your girlfriend laughed as you mumbled something under your breath and turned away, sitting down on an armchair to wrestle on some shoes.
"theres a gift shop downstairs and i'm going to buy a book since i don't fancy sitting here staring at the ceiling while you get to read all evening!" you huffed, grunting as you managed to wedge your feet into your trainers without undoing the laces.
"i told you, you don't need a book."
"actually i'm now going to go and find the heaviest book i can and hit you over the head with it!" you threatened, standing and making a beeline for the door, a rustle sounding behind you.
"emily." you groaned as her hand shot out over your shoulder and pushed the door back closed as you opened it. "come here please." the girl snapped the waistband of your pajama shorts and you let out a long and deep sigh before following her.
"here." the defender rummaged around in her own suitcase for a moment before grabbing out a box and shoving it into your hands. "see? no need for any books, you're welcome." she kissed your cheek and wandered back to the bed.
it didn't take you more than a millisecond to clock what the box was for, the brand name splashed across the front as you shook your head. "you kidnapped my books so you could force me into using a kindle?" you waved the box in your hand at the brunette who nodded.
"correct, and i already purchased and loaded those same three books and the two that come after it. again; you're welcome babe." "i didn't say thank you!" "i know, i'll be waiting."
"well you'll be waiting for a long, long time!" you huffed, dropping the box back on top of her pile of clothes in her case. "where are you going now!" emily asked with a frown as again you headed for the door.
"to buy a book. then maybe while i'm at it look a new girlfriend who likes the smell of the pages and cracking open a fresh new novel, the thrill of a dog eared corner and the hefty weight of the paper in your hands. someone who appreciates reading for what it is, not something done digitally!" you rambled out with a huff, hand on the doorknob.
"baby, you're being dramatic. come here and i'll read to you, you can even close your eyes and pretend its a book!" emily opened her arms expectantly as your gaze narrowed and her face lit up more as you took a few cautious steps toward her, stopping once you'd reached the side of the bed.
"come on babe its our first night on vacation lets not argue over something so silly, come cuddle." the american patted the space between her legs as you stared her down.
her features brightened yet again as you pushed her legs together and moved to straddle her lap, lips curling into a signature smirk. "actually, why waste time reading?" you breathed out, leaning in as your lips ghosted hers.
you leaned back slightly as the american surged forward, a smile on your face as a pout appeared on hers, kindle left on the nightstand beside her as one hand grabbed the back of your neck and the other your hip trying to pull you closer for a kiss.
however right as you leaned in to do just that within seconds your arm darted out and fingers grabbed at the smooth cold metal, snatching the kindle and swinging yourself off of her, headed again for the door.
"babe what the hell? where are you going now?" emily groaned, head thumping gently against the wall behind her watching you walk away with a frustrated frown.
"oh well since you insisted on bringing 'paige' on holiday with us, i figured why should she miss out on all the fun? so i'm gonna take her for a little evening swim!" "don't you dare." "oh yeah? watch me."
again within seconds as your hand gripped the doorknob you heard the covers go flying and feet hit the floor, the door barely opened a few centimeters before a body jumped onto you and your own slammed into the door closing it again.
"give her back!" "no! you have a problem you just called an inanimate object a her!" "i said give it!" emily grunted, arms wrapping around your neck and legs clutching at your hips as you held the kindle away from your body, stumbling backwards trying to keep your balance.
"oh my god you are addicted to this thing, you need help!" "i do not! you just don't understand the future." "oh i do, i know the future is looking awfully wet for paige!"
"em!" you squealed as she managed to pull you down onto the bed, crawling on top of you as you quickly wedged the kindle under your back and fought to push her off.
the two of you bickered back and forth as you grabbed her hands and got a knee loose, pushing her off of you and trying to flee again as her arm wrapped around your neck and her leg around your waist in an attempt at some sort of sleeper hold.
you had a couple of centimeters of height on her though and held the kindle just out of reach, using it to bonk her several times on the head to try and get her to let go of you to which she protested loudly.
after a few more minutes of struggle you almost rolled off the bed, yelping as strong hands grabbed you and using that to your advantage you managed to climb back on top of her.
"are we really fighting over a kindle?" you managed to press her arms to the bed with a grip on her wrists, her chest heaving beneath you and both your faces flushed rosy pink after the tussle.
"yeah, yeah we are." your girlfriend sighed, body going limp as a beat of silence passed before you both shared a look and suddenly you were rolling off of her, both your combined laughter filling the air as you clutched your stomachs.
"this is so stupid!" you managed out with a shake of your head. "i know." the defender agreed with a chuckle of her own, both of you taking a second to calm down again.
"truce?" you held a hand up in the air, her own coming to interlock and give it a firm shake. "truce, i love you."
"i love you too." you smiled, head turning to look as hers did the same, the two of you craning your necks to sweetly peck one anothers lips a few times with some giggles, your body rolling so you laid half on top of her, legs intertwining as her heart pounded beneath your eat that was pressed against her chest.
"one thing though?" "mm?" "paige is not allowed to sleep in the bed with us."
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sarawritestories · 11 months ago
Text
You Are Not a Burden
Cassian X Fem Reader
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Summary: You have been tasked with going to the Spring Court to check in on Tamlin for Rhys. Though You and the High Lord do not get along and this visit leaves you injured and doubting your abilities in Rhys and Feryre's court and in the Inner Circle.
Content Warning: Angst, Aggression, injury, Stubbornness, Self doubt, barely proof read.
ACOTAR MASTERLIST
Word Count: 3.1k
A/N: I hope you enjoy this angsty fic that has some really good fluff at the end.
Exhaustion had been your constant companion in the past weeks. Doing emissary work between Summer and the Day Court had been successful and have been in good company with Tarquin and Helion, who have always loved when you come to visit. Though standing on the dilapidated building of the Spring Court, you wished you could be anywhere else. The territory has been neglected as shown by the dead plants and the Mansion looking like no one has stayed there in centuries in a matter of months. The once rich color of the land had dulled, and the people of this court have suffered just as much as the land.
Rhys had asked you personally to touch base with him as you were already traveling to nearby territories and seeing the exhaustion on his face mostly from taking care of Nyx and not wanting to have Feyre endure going back there you agree. The relief in his eyes made it worth being here though it meant that you would be apart from your mate for weeks as Cassian was at the Illyrian camps handling Devlon and making sure the camps were staying in line. The time apart has left an ache in your heart, but the work has been a great distraction.
Shaking your mind from your thoughts and sending love down the bond that links you to your General. There was a warmth that took over your body as he sent warmth and comfort through the bond. Taking a breath you raise your hand and ready to knock on the door when the door opens, and your eyes meet Emerald ones. “I could hear your heart rate spike. What do you want?”
You straighten your posture, “I was in the area, I wanted to check in.”
Tamlin scowls, “Consider me checked in. You can go run to your High Lord and your Bastard, like the good little Bitch you are.”
He is about to shut the door when you breach your boot against the frame preventing it from shutting, ignoring how his blow hit his mark and gave a knowing smirk placing the mask Rhys has taught you “Look who got his bark back.” You rolled your eyes, “Can I please come in? The sooner we have an adult conversation the sooner I can leave, and you can wallow in whatever pity party you’re hosting for yourself.”
His claws peeked over his knuckles, “Why do you care, you sure as hell didn’t care when you took Feyre from me? You sure as hell did not care when your High Lord let her come in and destroy my territory.”
You cross your arms, “Tamlin, Feyre, wanted to do that on her own, there was no coercing on our end. As for your territory...you were a ticking time bomb. Your people were getting frustrated with your rule. Feyre just sped up the process. Maybe it’s time you stop blaming others for what happened in your court and take some responsibility.”
In a flash Tamlin tackles you to the ground, your head hitting the concrete at the bottom of the stairs, your vision blurred slightly as Tamlin’s claw clamps around your neck and squeezes, “I want you to listen very carefully,” He snarls and you wince, “You don’t get to judge me when its apparent there is no use for you in that vile court you call home. Rhys and Feyre have no use for you other than sending out and parade around in other territories.” He smirked as a tear escape cascading down your cheek, “I’m sure you are only good for warming your general’s cock and sitting prettily on his lap.” You wince as his blow landed some of your deepest insecurities being confirmed by the person you hate the most. “You are not welcome in my territory and if I catch your scent even in my territory, I will kill you. Leaving your Corpse on your bastard mate’s doorstep.”
He presses his face close to hers causing a whimper, “Get. Out,” he whispered and ripped away from your body the sound of a door slamming solidifying that the High Lord of the spring had slithered back into his tomb. You laid facing the sky the beautiful sight of the sky a stark contrast of what transpired.  For a moment not fully aware of how that escalated quickly, and your hand gravitated to your neck and tears began to pool. You make sure that your bond was locked so your emotions were not flooding to Cassian as he was out checking on his armies.
You stood and the ground began to spin briefly before steadying yourself a sharp pain stung behind your eyes and you touched the back of your head and something wet and warm met your fingertips. You look at your hand and find blood dripping down to your wrist, without a second glance to the manor, you winnowed back to Velaris. You ended up on Madja’s doorstep and you stunned the older Fae healer, “Oh dear, let’s get you checked out” Madja brought you inside and tried to tend to your injuries.
The familiar mental claws scraped your mental shield as Madja had you lay in her cot checking your neck to make sure Tamlin didn’t do any permanent damage as a bruise in the shape of a hand was blooming across your skin. You open your shield enough to let your High Lord come in.
“Home so soon?” Rhy’s voice was a mixture of surprise and concern, “Was your trip constructive?”
You take a steadying breath Tamlin’s words began to bubble up. You tamper it down just enough to keep it from Rhys and replied, “Yes my report, will be on your desk in a few days.”
“I’m glad you’re home, Cassian and Azriel are on their way as we speak so we’re having family dinner tonight at the River House.”
“I’ll be there. I am going to rest it’s been a long journey, and I haven’t been sleeping well.”
Rhys chuckled, “I’m sure Cassian will be more than happy to help tire you out when he sees you. He has already promised to kick my ass for keeping him away from you for this long.”
You smile briefly, and once again Tamlin’s words tried to bubble on the surface causing you stress. Rhys must have picked up on the shift of your feelings, “You sure you’re okay. Tamlin give you a hard time?”
“Rhysand, I’m fine, I’m just tired. I’ll see you at dinner.” You put your shield up before he had a chance to press further on the subject, and let unconsciousness claim you.
~Later That Evening~
You make your way down to the dining room of the River House, your plumb colored gown swishing against your bare feet. The high neckline that has a cut out that compliments your breast is why you chose this. Madja was able to close the wound on your head but the dark purple bruise dawning on your neck was going to have to heal on its own. The sound of laughter flooded your ears and the sound usually brings a smile to your face but this time insecurities run rampant.
They don’t need you.
You don’t belong.
You don’t bring anything to this group. They are better off without you.
You wince at the last one, but you school your features and put on a smile and walk into the dining room. The laughter died out and nerves racked down your body by the silence your lips turning down slightly, “Don’t mind me,” You whisper as you make your way down to the empty chair next to your mate. Your heart stopped at the sight of him as he rose from his seat to approach you. Being out in the mountains in the Fall sunshine his skin had darkened a shade and there was stubble along his face that made your toes curl. He was devastatingly handsome, his hair in a clean bun and his leathers been replaced by a dark button up shirt and dress pants.
“Hey, Sweetheart,” Cassian scooped you in his arms and spun you around. Placing you down he steals a kiss from you, “I missed you. I was so happy to hear you were home early.”
His hand grazed down your face and as he neared your neck wiggled out of his grasp and got on your tiptoes and kissed his cheek and gave him a small smile, “Me too, General.” You take your seat, and You see Cassian take his, his brows furrowed.  The food appeared and everyone gave approval
Feyre looked at you and gave her smile, “How is Tarquin and Helion, I hope they are doing well and treated you well.”
You are only good at parading to other courts.
You cleared your throat as fiddle with the food on your plate not having a solid “They are fine, warm and loving as always.”
“Rhys and Feyre have no use for you… you are only good for warming your general’s cock and sitting prettily on his lap.” The image of Tamlin snarling in your face and his hand squeezing your neck.
Rhys stilled his head shot up and his eyes met yours, your eyes widened and slam your mental shields up. Cassian’s head swiveled between his brother and you and guilt washes over you as he realizes that you have him locked out of the bond. “How was the Spring Court?” Rhys asked tension seeping into the room. Cassian’s head whipped to Rhys.
Feyre also stilled, “You sent her to the Spring Court?” she whispered her food forgotten. Mor poured more wine and filled Amren and Azriel’s goblets. Azriel’s shadows almost obscured him from view and Amren leaned against her chair and sipped her goblet.
Cassian’s grip on his fork tightened his knuckles turning white, “I chose to go,” I whispered. I reach my hand to grip Ferye’s across from me, “It was fine. I was banned but that was the only thing that happened,” Feyre didn’t return her smile.
Rhys jaw locked, “Don’t lie.”
Cassian through gritted teeth, “Someone tell me what’s going on right now!”  Rhys made eye contact with the General and his eyes went vacant along with Feyre’s. He was showing both yours and his mates the image that slipped. When the connection was severed you saw that the General had tears in his eyes as rage contorted his features. Feyre had tears streaming down her face.
You rise from your seat tears threatening, “I’m fine. I can handle myself. I’m so sorry that I ruined Family Dinner with this.” You fled and could hear Cassian call out your name as you winnowed to the door of the House of Wind and took the 10,000 steps to the top. You are aloud yourself to fall apart and sobs racked your whole body. Emotions swirling, of the pain on Feyre’s face and the pure rage on Cassian’s, the venomous truth that Tamlin spewed to you and when you reached the top. You moved as quickly as you could despite your thighs burning from the trek up the steps.
You reached the bedroom and were greeted by Hazel eyes, and you sniffled, “Cassian,” You whispered.
The General was leaning against the bed post with his arms and ankles crossed his eyes red rimmed, “Why did you block me out?” His voice was quiet and pained, his knuckles were bloody.
You open the bond and worry is sent down to him, “You’re hurt,” you whisper not looking away from his knuckles.
 He looks down at his hands and his eyes meet yours and they soften at your worry and relief shimmers down that bridge between him and you. “The blood isn’t mine. It’s Rhys’,” He shrugged, and you bit your lip, Cassian sighs and pushes of the post and approaches you and you avert your eyes. “He’s fine, he could have fought me off, he let me get the hits in. He felt guilty.”
“Why?” You ask, taking a step away from the door and approaching him.
Cassian stared at you in disbelief as he brought his arms down, pushing off the post to close the distance between the two of you. “Because he purposely put you in danger sending you to Tamlin’s territory. That the bruise your hiding behind that neckline is his fault.” Your eyes widened, “Rhys had stopped by Madja, and she told him she was worried about you.” You nod briefly, “We’re all worried about you. Especially Rhys and myself.”
You shake your head, “It wasn’t. I went willingly. I may have pushed Tamlin’s buttons, and he got the up on me.” You whisper, “It’s not Rhys’ fault it was mine.”
Cassian cupped your face in his hands, “Rhys was aware that you and Tamlin do not get along. He also knew that you wouldn’t say no whereas anyone else would have. As your High Lord and more importantly your friend, he should not have put you in that situation.”
You wrap your fingers around his hands that are still cupping your face, “Tamlin wasn’t wrong though.” Cassian’s face fell at your admission. Tears trailed down your cheek, “I feel like I don’t have a job that is really helping this court, but I can’t fight like everyone else and sometimes I feel like Rhys and Feyre really don’t know what to do with me.” Cassian wipes her tears with the pads of his thumbs. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m even a good enough friend to be part of the Inner Circle. Then what he said about you.” You closed your eyes, “I know you love me. I know you value me as a friend, partner, mate and wife, but I think back to the number of times you have had to reassure me and take care of me. I can’t help but feel like a burden to you and this court.”
“Oh Sweetheart,” His voice cracked as he picked you up and led you to the bathroom where he took a moment to change you out of your gown. His eyes were flaring with anger at the sight of the bruise. He puts on one of your favorite night gowns that is red and black. He guides you to the vanity back in the bedroom and has you sit as he begins to brush your hair. “There has never been a moment since you came into my life where I ever found you as a burden. You have been such a bright light in my life, your smile brightens the room and even on my worst day that same smile always melts my problems away. You have the affect on the team too, your easy and calm demeanor grounds everyone even Amren.” He meets your gaze through the mirror with his smile that always settles your nerves. “Your charm is perfect for dealing with temperamental High Lords which is why Feyre and Rhys have you go out and touch base with them every now and then. They like you and find comfort in your presence.”
He kisses your cheek and turns you so that you’re facing him, “I love you, You have never under any circumstances simply been someone who warms my cock.” You give him a small smile and his eyes light up at the upward tick of your lips. “I love your kindness, and your bravery. Most importantly it’s your willingness to drop anything for anyone, no questions asked. People know they can come to you for a listening ear, a shopping spree. You even know when I just need to hold you after a difficult mission, and you don’t pry but you somehow know what any one of us needs at any given moment. That’s special, Sweetheart, you’re special.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “I will happily remind you of that, everyday from now until my heart stops beating that you are NOT a burden.” Another kiss to your lips briefly before he pulls away.
You feel tears flooding out one more time as you wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his neck taking in his scent. “I was nervous, that if you sensed my dread and fear down the bond, you would have shown up in the Spring Court. That’s why I blocked you out and I really wish I hadn’t. I thought he was going to kill me he even told me as much.” Cassian stilled at the admission but did not say anything as you continued, “Then when I got here all I could think about was how I couldn’t inconvenience anyone to help. I was cowardly and didn’t want Rhys to think I failed him. Failed you and began and self-doubt is a parasite that is easy to come in and harder to extract. I just didn’t want to bring the mood down of everyone being home for the first time in weeks. ”
Cassian snorted and you could hear him roll his eyes, “He failed you, Sweetheart. But Tamlin will be dealt with. I promise.” You nod and continue to sob into his neck ruining his dress shirt with your tears.  “Also, you are more important to me than any dinner or game night we could have. How you’re feeling takes priority for me that will never change. Just because you're not feeling joy all the time doesn't make you a burden, it's normal to have those bad feelings as it is the good ones.”
Cassian tucks an arm under your knees and behind your back and carries you to the armchair looking out at the balcony. Holding you close as your sobs ebb and flow he strokes your back and presses his head against yours whispering sweet nothings.
A few moments go by when the sobbing turns to soft hiccups, you raise your head from his neck to meet his beautiful honey-colored eyes. “Thank you, for being you, Cassian, you always know what to say.”
He presses a kiss to your hand, “Promise me something, Sweet Girl.” You wait to let him continue, “Promise me that you will not block me out like that again, if you think you will be in a dangerous situation or territory, you keep the bond open so I can help. While we’re at it, tell me things. Don’t try to protect me from your dark feelings, or worries, it’s my job as your mate and your husband to help you through them and work on quieting those loud voices. No different than what you do for me.”
You nod, “I promise.” You kiss him, “I love you.”
He smiles and holds you tighter to him, “I love you too, Sweetheart. Let’s get some rest, we have an early meeting with the High Lord and Lady tomorrow.”
You nod and let him carry you to bed. He quickly removes his clothes, apart from his underwear and crawls into bed next to you, bringing your head to his chest and his wing wrapped around the two of you for extra warmth as your eyes droop close you feel lips on your forehead, “My beautiful, mate.” He whispers as you drift into slumber.
~FIN
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notyourhetloki · 3 months ago
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Request: Hi!! <3 Im not sure if your taking requests for writing, but if you are I was wondering if you could do a Wolverine and Deadpool × S/O who is very strong but doesn't look it? If that makes sense... Like the S/O is very sweet and shorter than them. But she is a total powerhouse! She can easily lift extremely heavy things, or can punch really hard. Like even harder or stronger than the them! I hope that made sense!! I love your writing, thank you!! ❤️
Logan x strong!Reader x Wade headcanons
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Reader: she/her
/Logan x Reader x Wade/
A/N: Hey! This request was made by @klerns-birdie, so thank you for your message! Hope you like it ♡︎
Tags: SFW headcanons, poly relationship, strong!reader, they are both supportive!
You considered your strength your superpower, never failing to amaze those around you. You were considerably strong for your stature, and that soon would be discovered by your partners Logan and Wade.
When you moved into a new apartment with them, you carried giant boxes all on your own. They offered help but you gently refused, lifting up an insane amount of weight like it was nothing. "I got it!"
They would be stunned, looking at each other in awe as you lifted boxes one by one, bringing them inside. "Holy shit, babe! Look at you, you strong independent woman!" Wade would exclaim while Logan admired the sight of you.
Soon your ability would become target of their interest, they would ask you questions such as: "How much weight can you lift?" or "How did you get this strong?" and you would gladly answer, feeding their curiosity.
And of course, Wade would abuse your power as much as he could, meaning you would have to open many jars and move so much furniture around... you found it funny, doing your best as he watched you with his mouth agape in adoration.
As for Logan, he would definitely try to arm-wrestle you. To his surprise, it would actually be really tough! Your resistance was powerful and never failed to shock him. "C'mon, shorty... give in." He would tease you between gritted teeth, but you never gave up. "Show her who's boss, Wolvie!" Wade rooted for Logan, but neither of you would win the match.
If you went to the gym, they would definitely accompany you just to see you go at the punching bag. One time you managed to punch so hard it sent the bag flying... and they found it so hot. "Attagirl..." Logan kissed your forehead as Wade squeezed one of your biceps, saying: "Remind me to never get on your nerves, gorgeous."
To sum things up, they would find you super cool and definitely be attracted to your strength! And they would make sure you knew that!
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cindol · 1 year ago
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Hm.. masc!mikasa and her pink gf.
Mikasa Ackerman x black fem reader
tagging: @liuhko @hoesluvshanti
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tw: modern au, written in the hc format, fluff, small suggestive-ness, y/n is a lil dumb,
a/n: I’ve had this in my drafts since May yall …. 😭 I just re-wrote it up a bit . srry if it’s a bit short !!
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masc!mikasa who’s a total babe magnet to pink fem girls a lot. Her roster and ex’s are mostly just feminine pinky pink girls so it’s a surprise to nobody when she shows her new girlfriend y/n off to her friend group.
masc!mikasa was the yin to her pink hello kitty girlfriend’s yang, they were polar opposites but definitely worked. Y/n could handle mikasa’s calm and collected attitude always speaking for her sometimes at restaurants while mikasa could handle y/n’s excited extrovert personality, knowing just the right way to calm her down and listen to her.
Mikasa loved whenever y/n would coming running to show her new hello kitty charmed nails while mikasa sat on their couch with her legs spread. She gave a warm smile just touching the one hand looking at the new nails and kissing her hand saying a simple,”love them baby.” Her small compliments had a way of just making y/n melt, no matter how small.
Another way she could calm y/n down also is just listening to her and her rants. When y/n was pent up and just angry she’d listen and give her small opinions on it.
masc!mikasa matched y/n’s style perfectly also, she was the masc to y/n’s fem style. While mikasa wore nike socks and slides, tank tops with shorts and her hair tied up occasionally y/n always was wearing some pink mini skirt, a pink cami top or anything hello kitty inspired to match.
masc!mikasa loved to feed into her girlfriends pda especially with the funny cute TikTok’s she’d do with her. Letting y/n give her pink lipstick kisses all on her face and neck while she had her legs spread then the camera turning to y/n with a lipstick tube in her hand applying more lipstick.
masc!mikasa never makes y/n feel that she’s too clingy, even when she comes to mikasa asking. Mikasa just scoffs at what she says.”bullshit, don’t know what idiot made you feel like that but you’re never clingy. You’re just a lover girl baby.” That warms y/n’s heart.
masc!mikasa gets protective when she has y/n around certain men. She knows how some men can be perverted weirdos, especially when it came to sapphic women. She always made sure to watch them when they tried taking a peak under her skirt.
masc!mikasa likes teaching her girl self defense. Mikasa was proud in her ability to protect y/n but what would happen if she was never around? She feared for when y/n got in the hospital somehow or mugged so she was teaching her self defense.
“Cmon baby be serious, what if I was some burglar trying to mug you?” It just made y/n giggle at her girlfriend with a cheap mask on trying to steal the small purse she was holding.”if you were some burglar trying to mug me in a alleyway I’d just kiss ya to let me go baby!” She joked making mikasa just give into her antics and tackle her.
if y/n and masc!mikasa had an argument it wouldn’t last long. Y/n’s a huge crybaby, if mikasa even had a slightly mad tone she would get sad. Mikasa may not show it but she was exactly the same, as soon as y/n seemed hurt by her actions she was immediately trying to cheer her up or show how sorry she is.
masc!mikasa is the one who made y/n realize how toxic her family is in the first place and actually drop them. When y/n vented to her about her mother’s homophobia mikasa just had a sympathetic look.”you don’t deserve that baby, nobody deserves that.” She rubbed a hand on her arm to comfort her more.”if anything, my family will always be here when yours can’t. Levi always considers you family anyways”
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heartpascal · 2 years ago
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Pls tell me there's a part two for "if the door wasn't shut". I need Joel and Ellie to come back and reader avoiding them and not speaking to them and just walking away when they try to talk to her. Ofc happy ending but make them work for that forgiveness
i would let you in
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▹ — joel miller x platonic!f!reader
▹ — summary: part two of if the door wasnt shut — after being abandoned in jackson, tommy and maria take care of you. joel and ellie’s return hurts far more than their departure.
▹ — a/n: i have no idea how the timeline is gonna work out in the show so ignore that!!! i went off on a bit of a tangent in this one… oops. anyways. let me know if you guys do want a part three!!!
▹ — warnings: angst!!!! AND MORE ANGST!!! oh yeah and a bit of angst too. father figure joel (except he’s failed that role for reader), arguments, throwing of objects, general hopeless feelings, sadness, not proofread, also you WILL like pottery and ceramics sorry!! almost father figure tommy….
▹ — tags: @faceache111 @viknowsbest @inkiqayo @wrcn9fvlcver @pedropascalsrealgf @httpjiikook @issybee0611 @liableperfections @dksjskx @canpillowscry @beeblisss @lizzylynch1 @randomstory56 @hiphopdancer101universe (once again just tagged everyone who asked for pt 2! pls let me know if you want the tag removed&lt;;3)
masterlist | PART THREE
howl’s song associations!
∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘
Everything in this world felt empty. It all felt so… weightless. Like you could pick something up, and it would have no meaning. Sometimes, you felt that way, too.
You couldn’t help it.
It was like everything you felt had drained from your very being, leaving your deflated and aching and empty.
But the emptiness sometimes masked as rage, and then you were throwing all of these meaningless things at meaningless walls, sick to death of hearing yourself yell about things that didn’t matter, that held no weight.
It didn’t matter what it was, it just gave you the shortest reprieve of feeling something, of feeling angry. It burned hot in your veins, and for a moment, you were full of fire. Until your oxygen ran out, and the fire spluttered before it died away, leaving you panting and exhausted and empty once more.
You knew it concerned Maria. Knew that she didn’t need this, the stress of having some kid that lacked the ability to even feel remorseful for breaking the plate that she had only just given you. She should’ve been focusing on the impending arrival of her actual kid, not feeling responsible for the one her brother-in-law had practically dumped on her doorstep.
But you didn’t ask for this either, did you?
Even when you had tried to leave, tried to get a horse out of its stall in the stable, tried to follow the only people you believed you could trust, you couldn’t.
You just about remember the way Tommy had pulled you back from where you had been frantic, trying to untie the horse in a frenzy as your chest heaved, the abandonment trying to deep into your bones. You had coughed and gasped, doing everything you could to try and get this feeling out of you, but nothing had worked.
Then, you had woken up on Tommy and Maria’s couch, the two of them beginning to doze off as the night crept up on them. It had been Maria who had jolted awake first, even when you just rustled the blanket they’d placed over you.
You didn’t want her pity then, had outright refused it. The two adults had tried to comfort you, but you had made it so difficult — because why should you make it easy? Your trust had been burnt up, your tether had reached its end, and you felt… hopeless.
There was nobody left for you in this world — and you wouldn’t let Maria or Tommy try to change that, even with their consistent attempts at being there for you.
They had relented to letting you remain in the house across the road, despite wanting you to remain in their home. They brought over meals every day, whether it be from the pub in town, or from their own kitchen.
Luckily for you, they hadn’t mentioned the cuts to your hand, the ones you had gotten from scraping up shards of ceramic off of the floor, after yet another one of your meltdowns. Sometimes, the only way you could actually feel that anger, was to let it out. And considering they hadn’t given you any of your weapons back, throwing plates and bowls and cups against all available surfaces had to suffice.
It had been weeks — you were sure of it. As much as you tried not to take count, the absence of the only people you had left made the days and nights pass slowly, so slowly that it was just a matter of how many days had you been throwing things? Or how many nights had remained restless?
It was on the twenty-sixth day that Maria had enough, seeing the remains of yet another plate in the garbage around the back of your house.
“Okay, if you’re gonna keep breaking these, you’re gonna have to start replacing them.” Maria told you, voice sterner than it had been in a long time. She’d tried the gentle approach, tried being soft, tried letting you heal in your own way, but it didn’t seem to be working. So strict Maria it would have to be. “Come with me.”
You followed her, with some reluctance, but you knew you didn’t have much of a choice. After all, as much as you hated to admit it, you relied on her. Without her, you were screwed.
So, you shrugged on your coat, and followed her as the snow crunched underneath your boots. She took turns so quickly, with so little hesitation, that you were almost surprised. You’d been in Jackson for a few weeks, and this didn’t feel familiar to you.
She tugged open a shop door, coughing away the dust that shot up at her, and felt the wall for a light switch, humming in victory when the store lit up.
You looked around, confused. You didn’t have money to buy new plates… and this place looked empty. You turned to Maria, watching as she wiped the dust off of a circular… machine?
“Well, it’s not the cleanest,” She acknowledged, “But there’s some supplies left out back, and the boys know where to get more clay.”
“Clay? What— Maria, what is this place?” You asked, running your finger against the dusty grooves of a wooden table, feeling bumps of dried something, and leaning forward to inspect the tools that had been abandoned on the table.
“Old ceramics shop,” She told you, opening the door to the back section of the shop and opening a window to let the air breathe. “Hasn’t been a big priority, really. Came in to get some plates when some of the houses had none, but nobody’s been all to bothered ‘bout fixing it up.”
“So, why am I here?” You raised your eyebrows, starting to get annoyed.
“Because, you’re gonna fix it up. If you’re gonna keep breaking all my damn plates, you’re gonna have to replace ‘em.” Maria replied, opening the windows at the front of the shop, and twisting the sign on the door from open, to closed.
“I… I don’t know shit about making plates.” You offered up quietly, fingers picking at your nails as you tried to get out of this. You did feel… almost guilty, about her plates, but at the same time, it was all you could do.
“Well, no better time to learn. Got some books around here, that’ll help, I’m sure. You can figure this out.” Maria said, your name falling softly from her lips, and you missed the other thing she was doing, which would be giving you something to do, giving you a purpose.
You huffed, feeling something nervous brewing in your stomach, but nodded at Maria before she left. You looked around the shop, eyebrows creasing as you realised you had a lot of work to do.
∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘
Tommy’s face was a sight, the first time he walked into the old ceramics shop.
When Maria had come to him, nearing tears in her excitement, telling him that you had finally done the ceramics shop some good, he hadn’t known exactly what to expect. He was well aware how much time you spent in that old place, and he had scolded you over it numerous times, saying the dust would do you no favours… or whatever.
The two of them knew that really, the ceramics shop had done you some good, but Tommy didn’t quite realise how much effort you had really put into it. Sure, it had been more than a few weeks now, but you were on your own in fixing it up.
So when you opened the door, something so close to a smile on your face, he was surprised. Shocked, even.
The surfaces were clean, for a start, which was nothing short of a miracle in his eyes. The furniture had been put back into place, not counting the pile of rotted wood that was outside, unsalvageable. Old ceramic work had been cleaned and put on display, alongside two names — the artists who made them, Tommy realised quickly.
And then there were the plates sat on the counter. New, slightly misshapen, and there was a box next to them, already filled with old newspaper.
“To replace the ones I broke.” You told him, when he looked at you, eyebrows furrowed. Tommy couldn’t help the smile that grew on him, something proud in his chest.
He hadn’t known you for nearly as long as Joel had, but god, he could recognise it in you immediately. The resemblance to his niece, just barely peeking out when you didn’t bury that part of you. He could see why Joel had gotten so… attached. Even if you didn’t resemble Sarah within your mannerisms in a way that was uncanny, you were a good kid.
Despite all the plate-throwing, name-calling, yelling and tears he’d seen from you, he knew you were good. He couldn’t blame you for your reactions, not with the way you had been left behind. And Tommy — he could understand why Joel did it, far more than you could, at least, but he recognised the pain in you.
Even if Joel did it as a result of his need to protect you, it didn’t come across like that in your eyes. From your view, he had taken the girl he knew for a couple months, and dumped you with his younger brother. He didn’t want you, didn’t care about you. It hurt. It hurt and it burnt your chest when you thought of it, and the only thing that made you feel a different kind of fire was creating your own destruction.
But this, this was different.
Tommy could see it in your face. This was such a drastic change from the girl who did everything she could to destroy what she got her hands on. This was a girl who finally got to create.
And sure, in a box in the corner of the room, there were the shattered remains of your failed attempts, but it hadn’t felt quite the same.
You thought of it this way; by throwing his and Maria’s dinnerware, you were destroying something that belonged to someone else. It was familiar to you. Trying to create the pain that caved your chest in, within another person. And yes, it was wrong, on so many levels, but you couldn’t help it. You just wanted somebody to understand.
When you had taken that first circular sculpture out of the kiln, and thrown it as hard as you could, it almost… hurt. These things were an extension of you. You had shaped these with your own hands, folded them into what you saw fit, so why should you destroy them? How could you? You made them this way.
So you had hidden the rest of the failed attempts, shoved into a cupboard in the back section of the shop, and had piled up your best attempts for Tommy and Maria to take home.
“You’ve been busy,” Tommy said, his eyebrows raised as he walked his way around the old shop, noticing you had even cleaned the two-decades worth of grime from the windows. “These are good, you been working on anythin’ else?”
“Tried a mug,” You offered, shrugging, “Didn’t really go so well. Neither did the bowl.”
“Work in progress,” Tommy replied, knocking your shoulder with his elbow. “Thanks, kid. You didn’t have to.”
“Actually, Maria’s instructions.” You said, but amusement was taking over your voice as you said the words. It was true — she had told you to replace what you had broken. But you hadn’t expected to enjoy it so much.
Tommy laughed, picking up the pile and placing it in the box you’d prepared, three layers of duct tape going either way across the bottom of it. “Well, it’s appreciated, anyway. You ‘round for dinner tonight?”
You shrugged again, making your way behind the counter to shuffle through some things in the back room absentmindedly, rolling your eyes when Tommy followed. You didn’t mind him or Maria hanging around as much as you used to, but you kept them at a distance.
“Come ‘round.” Tommy said then, instead, no longer posing it as a question. They’d tried to get you to move in, take up the spare room that would eventually go to their unborn child, but you’d strongly disagreed.
“You cooking? Or Maria?” You asked him, eyebrow raised as you turned to look at him, leaning back against the counter.
“Maria,” Tommy answered, rolling his eyes at your snicker of amusement. “She tries not to let me within ten feet of the damn oven.”
You couldn’t blame her. On the days that Tommy had brought food over to that big empty house opposite their own, it had been… an experience. Luckily for the two of you, Maria had agreed to go out on less patrols as the weeks passed by, sharing some of Tommy’s nervousness for what could happen.
“Not surprised.” You commented, a small grin on your face. You looked around the room, picking at your fingernails before you spoke up. “Hey, I was thinkin’—”
“That’s dangerous.”
You ignored him, only responding with yet another eye roll, “Get a bed in here, some drawers… could be a good spot for me.”
“Somethin’ wrong with Rancher Street?” He asked, concerned as he stood up straighter, looking around the room, not quite sure why you’d want to leave the house that provided you with plenty of space, warmth, and running water.
“No— No, there’s nothing wrong with it. Just… pretty big space for just one person, y’know?” You said, and gestured towards the door at the other side of the room, “This place has got a bathroom, anyway, so. And I mean, I always eat at yours or at the hall.”
Tommy frowned, contemplating.
Though they would’ve preferred you to have stayed in their home, Tommy and Maria relented when you had insisted on staying in that house. In the end, they had figured, what’s the harm? After all, once Joel and Ellie returned — which Tommy was sure would come, eventually, — they’d be living in that house, too.
That was the point. The house on Rancher Street was reserved for the three of you. Tommy had hoped, secretly, that you staying there, meant you wanted to fix things up, once the others returned.
You looked to him, when he was quiet for a moment too long, and he cleared his throat. “‘Spose it wouldn’t hurt. Bit of a trek from here, to ours, though.”
“Tommy, when I was…” You trailed, looking away, “I used to walk miles in a day. This short walk won’t hurt me.”
“You got a point,” He acknowledged, tipping his head forward, and ignoring your unfinished sentence. “But man, Maria’s not gonna be happy.” He thought of his wife, waddling her way over when she was near-ready to burst, and shook his head with a grin. “For you, I guess she’ll get on with it.”
“Shut up,” You said, amusement clear in your tone. “Now get outta here. I got some more fixin’ up to do.”
Tommy put his hands up in surrender, before slipping the box of plates into his hands, yelling out a, “See you later!” As he left.
You shook your head, rolling your eyes with a begrudgingly fond expression as you took another look around. There was a table that wouldn’t do you any good, too big, so that’d have to go. You wiped your hands against your tattered trousers, and sighed.
∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘
The lights in Jackson were warm, and filled the streets you walked through as the night slowly took over the day. It was nice, being able to see in front of you as the sky darkened. You tried not to get used to it, but knew you were settling.
It was hard not to — especially after Maria had officially declared that the shop was yours, for whatever you wanted to do with it.
You tried not to think of Boston, usually, but the last time you had had something that was truly yours, was there. It was hard to forget the things you had stashed away, hidden underneath floorboards that were concealed by the only half-decent mattress that Tess and Joel could find.
Thinking of that life was painful, especially when realising that it was unreachable. You hadn’t known it, when you’d left Boston QZ, but you would never get to return to that home that you’d built. To those things you had owned. To the family that had grown its roots in that crappy old apartment.
It was something strange, really. To think that all you had, perhaps all you ever would have, belonged to this town. You were reliant on its walls keeping you safe. At least that much was similar to life in Boston.
People were happier here, though.
You probably couldn’t include yourself in that statement, but for the most part, it was true. The streets remained lit through the dark nights, and you could go out for a walk at any time of the day, with no consequences. Which was a bit of luck, considering that Tommy and Maria always ate late on in the day.
Turning on to their street, you frowned, because the lights in the house opposite Tommy and Maria’s — the one you had yet to move out of — were turned on. And you always turned them off before you left.
You hurried into Tommy and Maria’s, shutting the door tightly behind you and kicking your shoes off in the doorway. “Guys?” You called out, hanging your coat beside the doorway and making your way toward where you heard their responding shouts in the kitchen. “What’s going on?” You asked, upon entering the room.
The glance they shared did not go unnoticed by you.
You raised your eyebrows as they looked to you, seeming almost… nervous. “Did you already tell her?” You asked Tommy, and saw the way Maria’s face immediately flashed with confusion.
“Tell me what?” She asked, turning to Tommy whilst being conscious to continue stirring whatever it was that she was cooking.
“I didn’t—”
“Then who’s in the house?” You interrupted, feeling like your stomach was sinking. You’d thought it would be strange for them to immediately place new people in the house, given that you hadn’t quite packed up the few things you had left there, and the shop wasn’t quite ready. But what other explanation was there?
“Okay, let’s just press pause for a second.” Maria said, shaking her head and looking to her husband. “What haven’t you told me?”
“Well,” He began, scratching the back of his neck, and gesturing towards you, “The shop’s lookin’ real good. And she was hoping she could, y’know, get a bed in there, and stay there.”
“So you haven’t moved new people into the house?” You asked her, feeling your stomach swoop down further as you spoke, and your mouth was going dry. “Then, does that mean—”
Tommy held a placating hand toward you, and it just told you all you needed to know.
“When?” You asked, feeling like your fingertips were burning and your chest was going to explode with how tightly it had constricted. They hesitated, so you repeated, more forcefully, “When?”
“No more than a couple hours ago.” Maria said, putting her spoon down on the counter and stepping forward, frowning when you turned away from her. “The guys on the gate spotted ‘em. Pretty banged up, but they’ll be okay. Sent them in to get some rest.”
“And you didn’t come and tell me?” You demanded, though your voice was weak and you had to hold your hand against your chest to try and steady your breathing.
“Kid, we—”
“Don’t call me that!” You snapped, immediately. Tommy sighed through his nose, nodding his head in something close to defeat. “I don’t want to see either of them. I’m not going in there.”
“You don’t have to do anything right now,” Maria said, frowning at your expression. “You can stay here, tonight, and we can sort the shop out for you tomorrow, but…”
Tommy placed a hand against Maria’s shoulder as she trailed off, “We were thinkin’, maybe you guys could talk it out. It’s been a couple months, now.”
“What’s there to talk about?” You questioned, voice sharp and paining your throat as you spoke. “They left me behind. Think that says everything, doesn’t it?”
It was all over their faces, the fact that they wanted to say more, wanted to say something in some kind of defence of the other Miller man, but they knew you. The married couple were more than aware that anything they said would mean nothing to you. You were like Joel, in that way, Tommy had said before. Stubborn.
They nodded, almost in sync, and Maria turned back to the stove, to continue cooking as she had been before.
“Would you get my stuff for me? When you get the chance?” You asked Tommy, who nodded his head, a frown prominent on his face.
“I’ll go first thing.” He replied, secretly hoping that come morning, you’d magically want to make amends with his brother. He knew it wasn’t likely.
“Thank you.” You said, feeling like heat was crawling up your neck the longer you stood there. The fire in your stomach was fading away, just leaving you feeling uncomfortably warm as you stood in the room. “I’m gonna go get some fresh air.” You nodded to the back door, and headed out once they acknowledged your words.
You stepped out, feeling the muggy air cool your lungs. It was colder than you’d expected, especially considering the way heat seemed to cling to everything in these parts, and you had to grind your teeth to stop the shiver that went down your spine.
It was only when Maria called to tell you dinner was ready that you stepped back inside, rubbing your hands against your arms to try and rid your skin of goosebumps.
∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘
Tommy had moved you into the shop the very next day, constructing a makeshift bed frame from whatever wood the town could spare, and bringing a mattress from an out-of-use house. You could tell he had wanted to say something, but he held himself back.
Now, it had been almost two weeks since they had returned to Jackson. And you’d been doing a fantastic job of avoiding any sight of them.
It hadn’t been difficult, in the beginning, with them taking time to rest and recover from their journey — or so Maria had told you. But it got harder as the days went on. They were beginning to explore the town, to join in on jobs, to eat where you would usually eat. It was getting annoying.
For the past few months, you’d found it so hard to live without them, but now, you realised it was much harder to live with them around. Hell, you’d even had to avoid Tommy and Maria’s on occasion, because you’d catch yourself starving before being in a room with the two of them, willingly.
Tommy had mentioned that they’d asked about you, that they’d been wondering where you were, but you didn’t need to say much for him to realise that you didn’t want them privy to any information about you. After all, they’d lost that right when they’d abandoned you here, in a town full of strangers, with no concern of what it might do to you.
You were getting angry, the longer it went on, the suspense of when you’d finally catch glimpse of them was eating you up inside. It was like life before Jackson, that feeling of being constantly on edge, of checking behind your shoulder consistently as time passed by.
It was safe to say that you weren’t happy.
You’d tried to keep yourself busy in the shop, in the little safe space in Jackson that was tucked away, belonging only to you, but things seemed tense outside of Jackson, and with Tommy taking on more patrols, Maria had been left alone an awful lot.
Tommy had asked you not to tell her, and you had absolutely no plans to, but he had asked you to hang around with her a bit more.
Partly for her own good, and mostly for his peace of mind. A little part, which he refused to tell you, was that it was also for your own good. Taking your mind off of Joel and Ellie was the best he could do for you, and this was the only way he knew how.
So, you had spent more time than you could’ve imagined at their house. Ending up falling asleep on their couch more times than you could count, with Maria insisting on waiting for Tommy to get home from his late-night patrols. He often came home to the two of you soundly asleep against the couch cushions, and you often woke up in a different position to what you fell asleep in, a blanket covering you and keeping away the slight chill.
It was one of those mornings, and you were in desperate need for a shower and some fresh clothes. You wrote a note for the two of them, knowing it was far too early for them to be up, given the way the sun was only just rising, to let them know you were going back to the shop.
Your feet were dragging with every step you took, and shuffling your jacket around your shoulders took more effort than you had expected. It was definitely going to be a long day, especially since you had promised Maria that you’d help her cook dinner later, considering she was still very against letting Tommy near the stove.
The morning air woke you up the slightest bit, but the chill of the breeze had you rubbing your hands together, regretting not bringing gloves, though you knew that later on it’d be far too warm for them.
You heard your name, and froze where you stood, hands clutched together, one foot in front of the other.
It was like your heart stopped the second you heard it, like it was being squeezed so tightly it couldn’t beat. The sensation made your chest ache, and you grit your teeth to move past the pain that had become all too familiar.
You heard him stop, his footsteps pausing as he hesitated behind you. You stood still for a moment more, before stepping away as he made a move to continue. He said your name again, trying to call you to a stop once more, but you hurried your pace, checking behind you after you had turned the corner, lucky enough to find nothing there.
A sigh escaped you, relaxing your tense shoulders just a fraction as you made a quick journey back to the shop.
You tried not to notice the anxiety balled in your chest when you finally made it. The way it was twisting up, pulling tighter on your lungs and leaving you feeling breathless as you thought too long on the slightest of interactions.
Despite not seeing his face, hearing Joel’s voice made their presence all too real, and you felt… overwhelmed. Nervous. Scared, maybe.
It was too much.
Why did they have to come back? Especially when you knew they hadn’t come back for you, but for the comforts of Jackson.
This was the only place that resembled the world before, the only place where you could feel something close to safe, and you could be comfortable. This town was a place for family, and it was clear that you didn’t have that, anymore.
Joel and Ellie had returned, but they weren’t your family. They had left you behind, to find your own way, whilst they went on an adventure of their own, creating a network of roots to settle in something close to a family of their own. You wondered if Ellie reminded Joel of his daughter, but tried to put the thought to rest as quickly as it arose.
You stepped into the shower, and tried to let the water wash away all thoughts of Joel and Ellie and family.
Later, when you stood at Maria’s side, stirring a pot on the stove as she took a moment to rest, complaining of the way her child was making her back ache. She told you about how it made her feel incredibly old, but you could see the fact that she appreciated it, as something of a reminder of the fact she was still here.
You had hummed along with her tangent, paying attention to her words but not feeling up to speaking all too much. Of course, Maria had noticed. She certainly prided herself on her observation skills.
“What’s up?” She asked softly, a strange contrast the the harsh voice she had just been speaking with as she had criticised her body for the pain it felt. Her hand was placed against the bump that has grown significantly, and you knew she was feeling maternal once again.
“It’s nothing.” You told her, because it was, wasn’t it? Joel and Ellie didn’t care about you, so why would you care about them?
“Mhm,” She hummed, raising her brows at you, “Sure it is. Got nothing to do with the two living across the street?”
You shook your head, continuing to stir the food, and tried your best to let out the sigh in your chest as a normal breath. It didn’t work, and Maria rolled her eyes at your denial of something that was so obvious. You didn’t say anything else on the matter, and couldn’t help but feel relieved when she finally let it rest. The two of you finished cooking, with you doing most of the work, and her giving all of the instructions.
But hey, you were much better than Tommy was, despite your inexperience.
It was when the door was knocked whilst you and Maria sat in their living room that you felt that tightening of your chest once again. She glanced to you, taking in the way your limbs had immediately tensed, all of your muscles straining like you weren’t sure whether to bolt, or stay completely still.
She raised a hand, telling you to wait where you were, and made her way to the front door after much groaning in her attempts to get up from the sofa cushions. You refrained from telling her that you were surprised she could manage it on her own, considering the size of her baby bump.
“Hey, Maria.” A familiar voice spoke, and your hands clenched into fists against your thighs, “Tommy in?” Joel asked, remaining outside the house.
“No, uh— he’s on a late patrol, today.” Maria responded, her voice much lighter when she spoke to Joel than it had been when the three of you had first arrived to Jackson.
“Ah,” Joel sighed, and you could hear him taking a step back on the porch, disappointment lacing his tone. It was too familiar. “Mind if I pop by, later on?” He asked, far more hopeful than you had ever heard him.
“Uh…” Maria trailed, and you knew she was looking back in the hallway, unsure if you’d be staying overnight. The wooden floorboards of the porch creaked as Joel stepped forward again, and you heard Maria shushing him as you clenched your teeth together. “Not now, Joel. It’s not a good time. I’ll tell Tommy to stop by yours.”
He sighed, and it was like you were back in Boston, with how heavy he sounded.
It was the same way he would sigh when you got too excited over something, like he was disappointed. Back then, you had thought it had been because he couldn’t guarantee anything for you. Now, you had no idea. You had always believed you had known him and Tess almost too well, but over the past few months, you realised just how wrong you were. Back in Boston, if someone had told them what would happen when you arrived in Jackson, you would’ve laughed in their face. Would’ve been so certain that Joel would never leave your side. You had no idea how wrong you were.
You swallowed, your throat feeling tight, and your tongue feeling like it was too big for your mouth as you heard the door shut, and Maria rounded the corner with a tight smile on her face.
With your heart pounding, you looked at her where she stood, and stopped her just before she could sit down, blurting: “Can you cut my hair?”
Her surprise was evident, but Maria nodded her head, and you tried to breathe through the pain in your lungs as you followed her to the kitchen.
∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘
It was week four, and Joel was getting antsy.
Every time he sat down, he found his fingers tapping an unknown rhythm against his trousers, his legs bouncing up and down as he nervously scanned the room, as though you’d appear from around the corner at any second. Of course, it never happened.
Each time he arrived back to the house on Rancher Street, Ellie’s head perked up, the most hopeful he’d seen her since before winter, and he had to shake his head. Had to watch her expression fall.
When he had seen you leaving Tommy and Maria’s, far too early in the morning for anyone to be awake, something had risen in his chest. He knew it was stupid, that he was a fool for thinking you might speak to him after what he did, but he had hoped so badly that you might just understand.
It was the closest he had been to you in weeks, and he hadn’t even managed to see your face up close, had only just about seen a glimpse of it when you had dragged yourself from Tommy’s porch. The moment he had gotten close enough to reach for you, you had bolted, leaving his hand halfway raised into the air as he stared after you, wondering if he should follow you, or let you go.
When he’d arrived at Tommy and Maria’s one evening, hoping to talk to Tommy about his anxieties, he’d found something else. They were shielding you.
And yes, he had asked them to protect you, had trusted them with something he had never even fully trusted himself with, but god. Joel had never expected that they would protect you from him.
But now, here he was, standing in front of an old shop that had likely seen better days, two decades ago. Ellie was by his side, her hand gripping the sleeve of his coat tightly, before she released it to knock loudly against the shop door.
He had half-expected for you to not answer.
Seeing your face, properly, for the first time in months was not the moment Joel had hoped for it to be. Not when your expression had immediately fallen from something of confusion to anger, to something defensive.
“Hi.” Joel breathed, feeling like he should really kick himself for the pathetic attempt at a greeting. Ellie was close to trembling at his side, trying to stay indifferent, but even from the corner of his eye he could see that hope rising in her expression.
“What do you want?” You snapped at them, wanting nothing more than to close the door in their faces, to slam it shut and lock it, to never open it again. But you refrained, something in your chest balling tighter, but you couldn’t help the desire that arose for something. An explanation, maybe. A good enough reason for you to forgive them, perhaps.
Joel jumped in before Ellie could, saying, “Plates!” He saw Ellie’s head whip towards him, a dumbfounded expression painted across her face. He watched you blink in surprise, and saw your expression go towards indifference as you huffed, and moved away from the door, allowing him to push it open a bit more, pulling Ellie in with him. She closed it behind her.
The silence lingers as you busy yourself with fortifying a box, feeling bitterness creeping up your throat. You thought about why they needed plates, and could not grind your teeth together, somewhat hoping that the scratches and dents in the kitchen counters couldn’t be fixed.
“Listen,” Your head snapped up to him, knowing what came next, and saw the way he backed down, the word kid dying on his lips. He cleared his throat as you went back to taping the cardboard box. “We were hopin’… that, uh, we could all have a talk. Clear things up.”
“I don’t know, Joel,” You began, the bitterness falling off of your tongue with every word, “You guys leaving seemed clear enough to me.”
He hated how much older you sounded.
“We left because we had to, not because we wanted to.” Joel defended, immediately, feeling the hope that had been flickering in his chest for the past four weeks sputter out.
“I remember trying to come with you,” You said offhandedly, keeping your eyes on the cardboard box as you put the final third piece of duct tape across the bottom. “You said: ‘me and Ellie. Not you.’ Remember?”
Ellie’s expression fell further, somehow, and Joel gaped for a moment, flashing back to the way your own face had fallen at his words.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” He said your name, almost like a plead, and frowned when you just turned to go towards the back side of the room, beside a closed door. You ignored it, collecting some of the better looking plates that had been stacked up there. “I didn’t want you to get hurt. I know you never asked for any of this.”
“You’re right, I didn’t. I wanted to stay with you. That’s what I wanted. No matter what might’ve happened, I just wanted to be with you two. You took that from me.” You said, voice harsher than Joel had ever heard it, even from when he and Tess had first taken you in. Remembering that version of you was painful, because he saw no resemblance within the you that stood before him.
Ellie spoke up then, her eyebrows furrowed inwards as she became something far too close to angry as she said your name, “You have no idea what we’ve been through—”
“You’re right.” You cut her off, placing the stack of plates in the cardboard box with a loud thud, “I don’t. And who’s fault is that?”
You looked between the two of them, as if you were expecting the answer, but Joel couldn’t bring himself to say it. You were so grown up, and he couldn’t understand it. It had only been a few months.
At their silence, you scoffed, and shoved the box towards them, watching as Joel instinctively shot his hand out to prevent it from falling off of the edge of the counter. He took the box, feeling like it was far too heavy for what it was, but perhaps that was just the conversation.
“I want you guys to go now.” You said, firm, despite the way your voice tried to shake. You wouldn’t let your voice tremor, not in front of them. Not when they didn’t deserve your devastation.
Joel’s face fell, a common theme in each of your recent interactions, and couldn’t help the way he felt sick to his stomach. All those months ago, you had been asking to leave with them, and now here you were, looking at him with eyes that he didn’t recognise, telling him to leave.
“Come on, Ellie.” He said reluctantly, turning away from where you stood, chin held high.
“No!” Ellie replied loudly, her lip trembling as she looked between you and Joel, like she was expecting something to magically repair the rift between you. Unfortunately, this world was real, and it was ugly, and you weren’t sure that fixing things was even possible. “We— We can’t just give up.” She said, pleadingly, looking to Joel to fix things, like she was so used to him doing.
But Joel knew that this was something he couldn’t fix so easily. “We’re not giving up.” He responded then, training his gaze on you, where your eyebrows had furrowed and you had turned your face away from them.
“You should.” You told him, your own trembling lip matching Ellie’s, before you turned away fully, making the short few steps and entering the back room, shutting the door tightly behind you.
∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘
“You asshole!” You yelled, the moment you saw Tommy stood in the kitchen doorway of his home, with him having turned to face you at the sound of his front door slamming open. He looked confused, but you didn’t fall for that expression, even as he said your name in an even more confused tone.
You stormed over to him, pushing your hands against his chest and feeling him take a bracing step back, not stopping you. He held his hands up by his side, surrendering once again, and you couldn’t stop your eyes from stinging with tears.
“How could you fucking do that to me?” You asked almost desperately, pushing your palm against his shoulder again, and then you felt Maria step around him, place a hand toward you that you flinched back from.
“Do what?” Tommy questioned, dumbfounded, and holding a hand up toward Maria, who backed off at your blatant dismissal of comfort.
“Tell them about my shop!”
Tommy’s face became one of realisation, and Maria whacked a hand against his chest. He immediately looked guilty a moment after the realisation, and held his hands out towards you.
“I let it slip, I know, but I didn’t realise he’d noticed. I swear, I wouldn’t tell him that purposely. He came ‘round?” Tommy spoke, frowning when you took a step away from his hands as they reached for you. He couldn’t help but feel like Joel had unravelled all the trust he had built with you, and his frustration grew at the second realisation of the evening. You could only nod in response, your expression a mixture of anger and devastation. “I’m sorry, kiddo, I didn’t mean for that. Joel wants to fix things up, yeah, but—”
“Fix things? Tommy, how could he fix things?” You asked, your volume raising immediately as you cut him off. “Joel— He knew everything about me, and he chose to leave. He left me willingly! That isn’t… every time I see myself, I see those parts that he rejected. How do you fix that? Tell me how you fix that, and I’ll fucking do it, Tommy, but I can’t figure it out. How can you fix that? How can you forgive that?”
You were yelling, you knew you were, but you couldn’t stop yourself. Everything you had built in Jackson was shattering like those stupid plates in that stupid kitchen. Tears were falling down your face, and Tommy blurred away as your eyes continued to fill with them. It felt never ending, this whole situation did. How did you fix this? Could you?
“I don’t know.” Tommy admitted, feeling like his heart could tear from his chest as he looked at you, your breaths shaking as you tried to get through sobs, your face covered in tears, chest heaving. “But we’re going to figure this out. We’ve got you.”
He moved towards you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders when he realised you’d let him. He felt your arms tremble as they wrapped around him, and he stared past your head as he took notice of Joel frowning in the still-open doorway. They shared a look, and Tommy gave Joel an all too familiar expression, one that he used to give when Sarah would be upset. Too upset for anybody else but Joel to be present.
It felt strange, to Joel, not only to be on the receiving end of the look, but because it was concerning you. But what was he meant to do? How could he fix it?
Joel frowned, nodding at his younger brother, and closed their front door as he turned away, breathing out a sigh that felt far too heavy. He needed to figure this out.
“Come on,” Tommy said, after a few moments, when he was certain you hadn’t noticed Joel closing the door. He led you over to the sofa where Maria was waiting, and when you collapsed next to her, they held you between them until you fell asleep, face still wet from tears. “It’ll be okay.” He spoke, quietly, despite knowing you were asleep. He was half saying it to himself and Maria, too. They needed the reassurance just as much as you did.
Tommy decided then, that when you woke up in the morning, he would do his best to help you figure everything out. And as he shared a look with Maria, he knew that she’d be there, helping right at his side.
PART THREE
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