✰ REMIX ✰ Jax x Reader ⋮ TADC (GN! Reader)

25✭ Rain Washed Remix

Need 2 - Pinegrove
 ↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺
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 ~✮Y/N's Perspective✮~

Everything is black. My mind stirs sluggishly, like a machine restarting after being shut down for too long.

My eyes flutter open, the weight of my lids almost unbearable. Warm, wet concrete presses against my face, the chill of the ground seeping into my skin.
My whole body aches as I push myself upright, muscles screaming in protest.

I'm in the middle of a road, the faint scent of rain lingering in the air. Around me, a scattered group of people stirs, just as disoriented and sore as I feel. Their faces are pale, eyes wide with confusion.

To my left, something catches my attention—a black leather journal. My breath hitches. My journal. I snatch it up, fingers trembling as I run them over the familiar cover, worn and scratched in places that feel achingly personal.

I glance down, and the realization hits me like a freight train. I'm human.

My skin is raw, tender, but it's real.

I touch my face, and it's wet, slick with what feels like tears, but it's there.

My face is there. My hands are mine. I'm really here.

The gravity of the situation starts to sink in. My heart pounds against my ribs, a deafening drumbeat in the silence. I look around, taking in the faces around me. The people. They're not strangers—they're familiar in a way that's hard to explain, their names etched into my memory like scars.

The murder list.

They're all here.

They're not strangers—they're familiar in a way that's hard to explain, their names etched into my memory like scars.

Kingsley and Quin Carson.

The elderly pair sit together a few feet away, their hands intertwined as if to anchor themselves to reality. Their expressions are filled with a cautious hope, glancing around as though searching for something familiar.

Rachel Dolly.

She's sitting cross-legged nearby, staring down at her palms as if seeing them for the first time. Her lips move silently, a prayer or perhaps a question, her face a mask of disbelief.

Peyton Nalani.

Peyton is crouched low, her hands pressed to the ground as if she's trying to convince herself that it's solid. Her wide eyes dart around, taking in the scene, her lips parting as though on the verge of speaking but never quite forming the words.

Gabriella Red.

She's curled up by the curb, tears streaking her cheeks as she wraps her arms around herself. There's a brokenness to her posture, but also a flicker of something defiant—something alive.

Zabell Oakly.

Zabell stands further off, one hand gripping a nearby lamppost for support. Their gaze sweeps over the group, lingering on each of us as though trying to piece together the puzzle of how we got here.

Kevin Monty.

Kevin leans against the edge of the sidewalk, his head tilted back as though he's searching for answers in the clouds above.

His brow is furrowed, his jaw tight, but there's a flicker of recognition in his eyes as he scans the faces around him.

Standing up, my legs wobble beneath me, unsteady and fragile, like they don't remember how to bear my weight.

The world feels too big, too overwhelming. Each breath feels heavier than the last, as though the air is pressing down on me.

As I take a shaky step forward, my feet betray me, buckling under the strain. I fall backward, bracing myself for the cold, wet pavement.

But instead of hitting the ground, I'm caught.

Strong arms steady me, firm yet careful, as though I might break. My breath hitches as I turn my head to see who it is.

He's tall—really tall—his frame almost too familiar. His damp hair clings to his face, rain dripping from its ends.

His chest heaves, his breaths deep and labored. His eyes, though shadowed by the storm, pierce through me.

"Y/N...?" he whispers, his voice hoarse and disbelieving, like he's afraid speaking too loud might shatter the fragile moment.

Time stops. The rain fades. The ache in my body, the chaos of everything we just endured—it all vanishes as I stare at him.

Jax.

Or rather, Jaxon.

It's him. It's really him.

Tears blur my vision as I stumble forward, grabbing onto his shoulder. I don't know if I throw myself at him or if he pulls me in, but suddenly I'm in his arms, my face buried in his chest.
A sob breaks free from me, raw and uncontrollable.

He stiffens at first, but then his arms tighten around me, his embrace warm despite the cold rain pelting us. His grip feels desperate, like he's holding onto a lifeline.

The rain pours harder, soaking us to the bone. It runs down my face, mingling with my tears, but I don't care. I don't care about the storm or the chill. All I can feel is the safety of his arms, the steady rhythm of his heart against mine.

"We're here. We're alive."

He nods, his eyes searching mine, as if to make sure this is real. Slowly, his forehead presses against mine, and for a moment, the rest of the world disappears.

In his arms, I feel it—the sense of belonging I thought I'd lost forever. The world has shattered and reassembled, and though it's not the same as it was, maybe it's enough.

The rain pounds harder, the storm unrelenting, but his hug only tightens. And in that moment, I know—I'm safe. Secure.

For the first time, in a long, long time, I'm home.

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Thank you and Goodbye :)

Realisticly I shouln't write another book but if its somthing I enjoy then ill be sure to do it.
I think i want to write about already finished peices of media from now on lol. Feel free to gimmie some recos to write ;)

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Hello! 2025 Liz here,
I can't belive this has blown up even more, thank you!
A little shameless plug but I have two other books you might like if you like my writing style!
- Ego's Reflection - Jonathan Crane (Batman Begins)
- Appetite for Anatomy - Hannibal Lecter (Hannibal 2013)