#all i've done for the last month and a half is cry and gif

[zepskies]

Hello. I was wondering if you could write an imagine in the BMD-verse (been following it for a while now; love, love, love it, by the way!) where Ben cries?

Like something really bad happens in general or to the Reader, and he losses it? I mean, personally, I have never known this man to cry, and I would love to see you conjure up something that could possibly elicite that reaction from him.

But no pressure - will definitely understand if you don't want to write it!

Oooh, so you really wanna kill me, huh? 🫠😭😭

Lol it's okay, thank you for loving Break Me Down!! It's one of my favorite story verses that I've been able to create on here. ❤️❤️

This request was difficult for me on multiple levels, but I think I was able to pull it off? (I'll let you be the judge.) This is set in the BMD-verse, shortly after "Love Actually."

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader

Word Count: 2,400 Tags/Warnings: Major angst, show-level violence, hurt/comfort, "twist" ending (you'll want to read until the end, trust me).

Imagine: Ben loses you.

Ben restrained another sigh when he realized you were no longer walking next to him.

He turned and saw you stopping in another damn kiosk, this time looking at a selection of Pashmina scarves. As if you didn’t have enough clothes.

“We’re not here for a damn shopping spree,” he called after you.

He ignored the people who glanced at him as they walked past, a couple of them even shooting him an annoyed look.

One didn’t just stop in the middle of a busy sidewalk in New York City, but as with most societal protocols, Ben couldn't really give a fuck.

He almost started tapping his foot. Instead, he crossed his arms as he glared in your general direction. You were smiling and chatting with the woman selling her wares as you finished the transaction.

Ben at least could admire the view of you bent over in those tight jeans and ankle boots. You also wore the dark green winter coat he bought you last month, lined with faux fur to keep you warm.

When you eventually came back to him, you shot him an amused smile. You held a new scarf in shades of green and blue, to match your coat. But you also held out a new pair of leather gloves for him.

“Here you go, Grumpy. I didn't forget about you,” you teased. He raised a wry brow at you and took the gloves. He inspected them with a half-critical eye.

“And how much did these cost, five cents?”

You rolled your eyes and kept walking. He caught up with you and slipped the gloves into his pocket.

“My hands don’t get cold anyway,” he reminded you. And you often complained that his body heat was like a radiator, especially at night. Although, you hadn’t been complaining since the winter turned frigid this February.

“All right, whatever. Just don’t say I never get you anything,” you quipped. “Besides, you know you love to accessorize.”

A smirk pulled at Ben’s lips. The gloves were a half-assed gift, but he still wore the watch you got him for Christmas proudly on his wrist. That was a nice silver Rolex.

“All I know is, we’d better not be late for this damn meeting,” he said. “I don’t wanna hear Mallory’s fucking mouth.”

The two of you had made a day of coming into the city, hitting a nice brunch spot and ice skating at Rockefeller center before your date had been rudely interrupted—by a call for a new mission.

Grace Mallory had been a bit cryptic on the phone, but it had something to do with the mess Ben left of the drug cartels in South America. After they got back to the States, Ben left that “business” behind…he just hadn’t thought of how that would shake out in Colombia.  

So now, you two were headed to the Supe Affairs building. You slipped your arm around his, while his hands were in his pockets. You looked up at him with a smile.

“Try to enjoy the little things, Ben,” you told him. “We had mimosas and some bougie ass lobster tails with our eggs this morning. I skated circles around you on the ice. And now we’re going to get some work done.”

“On our day off,” he retorted.

“To be fair, you made the mess, Mr. Kingpin,” you pointed out. “We’ve just gotta clean it up…as usual.”

“Hey," he eyed you. But you both knew the warning had little heat behind it.

He still reached for your cheek and brushed his thumb across it. He felt how cold your face was, and he stopped for a moment in the middle of the sidewalk. Neither of you cared when pedestrians gave you dirty looks as they passed by.

Maybe you were right though. Maybe he should take stock of the small moments. Ben held your face with both hands and caressed some warmth back into your skin.

Your smile softened, and your eyes closed when his lips found their way to your forehead. He then took the newly bought scarf out of your hand and wrapped it comfortably around your neck.

“What a gentleman,” you said, with a small grin.

Ben smirked down at you…until his face fell.

He heard the whistle of the bullet before he saw it.

It took him another second to move, grabbing you and shielding you with his entire body when it hit his back. The bullet itself bounced harmlessly off his skin, but the inner compartment of Novichok exploded like a small smoke bomb. The smell was too familiar to him to be anything else.

Ben coughed and was forced to push you away from him before the gas reached you. You yelped and almost tripped on your feet, but you scrambled back against the wall of a drycleaners. Your wide eyes met his as his knees buckled; the gas had clouded around his head.

“Run!” he shouted through fits of coughing.

You hesitated, for just a second. But when another bullet ricocheted into the wall behind you, near your head, you ducked and had to take off running.

You wove through the busy sidewalk, pushing people out of your way as you went. Whoever was after him this time, you had a feeling these were the people Ben had pissed off in Colombia.

Fuck! You sprinted past an alleyway and saw the hand coming for your arm, but even when you turned, there was another man, dressed a black military-style uniform with his face covered by a black mask, waiting to grab you from behind.

It was muscle memory. You released an elbow into the man’s neck, a punch straight into his teeth and nose, then kicked his knee out with the heel of your boot.

You grabbed your gun from under your jacket and would've shot him, except the next man wheelhouse kicked it out of your hand. You stepped back on instinct, ducking the following punch, and the rest of his arm to run in the opposite direction.

The first man pointed a large automatic gun straight in your face. You gasped and put your hands up. With a quick glance in either direction, you realized that they’d cornered you.

Your hands were pulled behind your back by someone else. That’s when they started dragging you toward a black SUV parked in the corner.

Except that car was soon destroyed, by an old Honda Civic being shoved into it. The SUV's hood constantined like an accordion.

You looked up with wide eyes, and there stood Ben, at the crossroads of the alley. He was furious.

“Soldier Boy,” greeted the man who once again held the automatic gun poised at you. He pulled down his mask, revealing the tan face of a middle-aged man.

He moved over to you and grabbed your arm from his subordinate. He raised the gun to your back. With one press of his finger, your insides could become Swiss cheese.

Your jaw clenched as you tried to take in even breaths. You focused on Ben. His green eyes met yours, and briefly you caught the worry behind them before his steely gaze moved back to the man who held you.

“Pretty ballsy, Reyes,” Ben said. His voice was a drawl, more controlled than he felt. “You really thought this was gonna go down that easy?”

Reyes scoffed. “You’re the ballsy one. Taking off with all that product you stole.”

“You’ll have to take up with the CIA on that one,” Ben replied. “They confiscated all the smack from my place. Probably reselling it to a few hobos down the street. You’re welcome to check under the bridge over there.”

He gestured in the direction of the Hudson River.  

Reyes shrugged. The sound of a gun’s safety being clipped back resounded through the alley. You felt the vibration of it on your back. Your eyes closed for a moment.

“Bad news for her,” he said.

"Hey," Ben snapped. "There's no fucking need for that."

"I think I'll decide what we need," said Reyes. Your lips pursed as the gun dug into your back. "Maybe it's your bitch's insides at your feet."

Ben slowly raised a placating hand. Though his gait was still relaxed and arrogant, as always, you knew it was a well-crafted act. To hide his anger. His fear. To seem in control of himself, and to reinforce the intimidating presence he still was, even unarmed.

“Listen. If it’s money you want, we can work it out,” Ben replied.

His eyes once again found yours. He could see you were holding your breath. You were good at hiding it, but he knew you were scared. He wanted to tell you that he had this handled. That everything would be all right.

He focused on Reyes again. The other man considered the supe with a tilt of his head. He sucked his teeth and spit on the ground, out of the corner of his mouth. It was mixed with a bit of blood from when you'd punched him in the teeth.

“Okay, my friend,” said Reyes. “Let’s work this out. Pull out your phone.”

Ben made slow movements in grabbing his phone from his pocket. They all stepped further into the alley to avoid prying eyes and discussed the transfer of funds, and how much was fair. Ben claimed he was giving him a deal with his first offer.

Reyes demanded three times that amount. Ben raised his brows...but he complied. The money transferred from his bank account.

“Okay, we’re fucking done,” Ben snarked. He gestured at you with his eyes. “Let her go.”

In his mind, he was already contemplating how thoroughly he'd rip Reyes apart for this. After you were safe. He'd have a first class ticket to Medellin by tonight, ready to Colombian-necktie this cocksucker.

Reyes sighed through his nose. There was still about ten feet between him and Ben. He didn't seem to think it was enough. He took the gun off your back and backed up with you a few steps. Eventually, he released your arm.

“Come ‘ere, sweetheart,” Ben reached a hand out, beckoning for you. You met his gaze once again, and let out a subtle breath.

You took three hesitant steps forward.

And the gunshots echoed horribly through the alley.

As it turned out, Reyes always had an escape plan. You were merely the distraction.

It proved effective, as Ben’s protest rang out as soon as the bullets fired. He raced forward and caught you as you stumbled, but his hands soon became coated in your blood; it fled from your back in thin rivulets.

You gasped and clung to his arms. His ears rang with the sound, along with tires squealing and shouts and police sirens. All he could focus on was the color draining from your face.

Both of your breaths came out ragged as he slid with you down to his knees. He brushed your hair away from your face, even as his blood-covered hand stained your cheek. Your pained eyes drew up to his face. You tried to speak, but you didn't have the strength.

“I hear the sirens. They’re coming for you, take you to the hospital,” he promised. His voice was rough, but his throat was tight. His eyes scanned over you. “All you need is my blood and…Christ. Fuck it all.”

He laid you down on the dirty asphalt and hurriedly yanked up his coat sleeve until it ripped. It exposed his arm. He was about to drag a blunt nail across his own skin to bleed into you.

“Ben.” Your fingers twitched against his knee.

When he looked at your face, there was no longer life in your eyes.

His own were wide, almost uncomprehending. His breathing was harsh as empty hands fell to his thighs. His head felt heavy, though his ears were still ringing.

He drew enough strength in his hand to wipe the blood from your cold cheek…but your face was beginning to blur.

Or not, he realized, as the sting in his eyes took him by surprise.

In a fit of mania, he gathered you back up in his arms and ignored the wetness covering your back. He held you, impossibly tight. Tighter than he’d ever held you, because he was alone in the alley…because he was alone again.

And it was his own fault.

His eyes squeezed shut against the burn, but it was futile. Everything was. His breaths were sharp and stifled as pain tore inside. A pain worse than anything the Russian's could've inflicted on him.

His lips pressed against your forehead, trembling there. The first drops of wetness rolled down his cheek. He couldn't stop it from happening, but then again. He guessed he truly was a failure, after all.

You made the mess…

His first tears had been spent at his mother’s funeral, when he stood alone at her gravestone.

His last ones would fall and die with you.

“Ben,” your voice was soft but insistent.

He finally woke with a start. A sharp inhale through his nose.

He had been sleeping on his side. Before he even truly registered where he was, in the safety of his bedroom, he turned his head toward you.

His eyes found your face in the dark, over his shoulder. Your hair was frizzy from sleep. The strap of your nightgown had fallen off one shoulder. Your face looked bleary and tired, but you frowned in concern.

“You okay, baby?” you asked. Your hand soothed across the dewy skin on his arm.

Ben’s throat constricted. He was starting to remember bits and pieces of the dream…the nightmare. He rubbed at his eyes, then dragged a hand over his mouth.

“Yeah,” he said at last.

“Hmm.” Your gaze narrowed at him. “You sure?”

Ben had only enough energy in him to nod in response. His heart was still racing. Maybe you sensed that, because you leaned onto his arm and dropped a hand down his chest. You kissed his bare shoulder with soft lips, and he couldn’t help himself.

He raised a hand to cup the back of your head. He let out a long, relieved sigh through his nose, closing his eyes. Then he turned onto his back and brought you closer, with an arm slipping around your frame and pulling you against his chest. You made a sound of surprise, but you went willingly.

You brushed the sweaty strands of hair away from his face and pressed a kiss against his neck, to his jaw, his cheek and above his brow. He accepted it all and tried to calm his breathing with the feeling of your touch, and the smell of your flowery soap that lingered on your skin.

With a hand still cupping your head, he guided your lips to his. He claimed you slowly, but with purpose. You answered him by tilting your head, deepening the kiss for a moment.

You parted from him just as slowly. You knew everything wasn’t okay, but you also knew it wasn’t the time to push him for an answer.

Maybe in the morning, you thought. …I’ll make pancakes. Haven't done that in a while. And he’s always happier with something sweet.

You rested contentedly against his warm chest and let his heartbeat, gradually slowing back into a steady rhythm, lull you back to sleep.

Ben tangled his fingers into your hair. He laid one more kiss on the top of your head.

And for damn sure, he was going to cancel that trip into the city tomorrow.

AN: I know, I know. The "it was all a dream" thing is super cheesy, but I couldn't leave it on heartbreak. I just don't have it in me with these two. 🥲❤️‍🩹

Read the Sequel:

A friend of mine requested a sequel to this imagine: "You confront Ben about his fears."

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[wordbunch]

a little secret (Bilbo x f!reader)

a/n: my brain wrote this on its own while i re-watched the hobbit trilogy twice within like, a week, so... there is that!! it's been sitting in my drafts for months??? anyway it's just a fluffy little piece cause he is an absolute cinnamon roll (i've been neglecting him too much and i'm gonna fix it) 💖 let me know ur thoughts and opinions, and please be so kind to reblog? 🥺 i'm exciteddd to be back and figuring out new things to post!

Yet another all-day-long march was behind them, and the setting sun signaled that it was time to set up camp for the night, and rest, as much as it was possible by sleeping on the ground and eating tiny portions of anything that was at all edible.

[y/n] let her weighty bag plop down onto the rough forest terrain and she let out a weary sigh, stretching her back and arms as much as it was humanly possible, wishing she could stretch away the negative feelings and thoughts that plagued her mind on that particular day.

As soon as Bilbo neatly stored his belongings near the bark of a tree, which seemed like a moderately comfortable spot to take a break in, his eyes keenly followed the movements and expressions of his beloved, who was uncharacteristically quiet and perhaps even sorrowful during the day. Normally she would put her things next to his and enjoy the few short hours of peace, but this time she just tossed them onto a random patch of grass and turned her back to him and the rest of the company, who were already discussing dinner. Before anyone asked her to weigh in with her opinion, she took the chance to walk away and among the trees, away from the commotion of the dwarves. 

Bilbo's curious eyes followed the shape of her in the shadows as long as they could, but soon enough she was out of sight and, inevitably, he began to worry immediately. As much as he wanted to let her have a few minutes of silence and contemplation, it was too dangerous for any of them to go wandering around alone, especially while exhausted in every way; so his anxiety got the best of him, and even though it was nice to finally sit down for a moment, he had to make sure she was alright.

She was expecting he would follow after her shortly, as she stood among the trees and hugged her own arms for extra warmth; trees were swaying in a chilly breeze as the last rays of sun painted them in saturated hues. The moment she heard some shuffling she turned around cautiously, but sighed in relief at the sight of her favorite (as a matter of fact, the only one she knew) hobbit. A small smile stretched her lips, without quite reaching her eyes, and that’s all it took for Bilbo to all but run to her and pull her close.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” he spoke, albeit a little bit breathlessly, as soon as he reached the taller woman. “All day you have been acting…differently.” He murmured with caution, hoping not to offend her with his probing.

[y/n] released a shaky breath and shook her head slightly, looking down at his hands on her waist. Even though she felt like she would start crying if she spoke up, she didn’t want Bilbo to think she was keeping something from him; she knew him well enough to know he would surely overthink it later in the night, instead of sleeping.

“You know you can tell me anything,” he urged her in a soft voice, reaching up to her cheek and stroking it with the back of his hand. “Even if it’s about something that i’ve done,” he added, half-jokingly.

After a string of rough days packed with danger and uncertainty, she was rather moved by the display of tenderness, and she felt her lower lip quiver. At last her eyes, that were brimming with tears and exhaustion, met his, and he let out a quiet gasp. [y/n] could swear he looked like he could start crying only at seeing her like that.

“i just- I cannot,” she confessed shakily, while he pulled her as close to him as possible, “I cannot really handle all of this right now. I’m so tired, a-and there are so many terrifying things going on all the time, and it seems like this whole undertaking might never end, and I just can’t,” she rambled on, trying her best to fight the tears that wanted to spill. The grip she had on the hobbit’s shoulders was so strong, as if he was going to evaporate if she let him go. It was terrible for him to see her feeling that way, and for a second he felt a stab of guilt - maybe he was failing her - but he had to fix it as soon as he could. Both of his hands found a way to her tear stained face, and he gazed at her with so much love and understanding that she could have melted right in that moment. [y/n] wrapped her fingers around one of his wrists to ground herself in reality.

“My beautiful flower, most beautiful in all the world,” Bilbo began, speaking so lowly that only she could hear him, “do you want to know a little secret?” he raised his eyebrows with a playful glint in his eyes and a smirk on his lips. If he couldn’t make her smile, then what was the point of anything at all? She immediately recognized a small attempt at cheering her up, and her heart fluttered in her chest. she really considered herself lucky amid all the chaos.

“Yes, dearest,” she sniffed, but the beginning of a smile was playing on her lips too.

"I can’t either,” he chuckled airily, with a small shake of his head, “but with you by my side, maybe I can. And all of this has been… well, insane, to say the least, but it won’t last forever. I mean, I really hope so.” [y/n] finally laughed, and a tremendous weight was lifted off of his chest. Bilbo stood a little taller as he looked up at her with more hopeful eyes.

“But sometimes insane things lead to beautiful things, I suppose,” he continued, still cradling her face as if it was made of the finest glass, and his smile was contagious as she let those words sink in. “Trust me, I would love nothing more than to be at home with you right now, holding you close, wrapping you in blankets when you get cold, bringing you breakfast every. single. morning,” he accentuated his words with three taps of his finger to the tip of her nose, and her giggle warmed him up from his curls to his toes. “And look at the stars with you on every clear night, and read by the fire together, and chase away visitors because I want you only to myself…” he trailed off, suddenly very aware that she was looking at him with such open love that he needed to remind himself to breathe before continuing. “And, petal, I promise you, very soon we will be doing exactly that, we just need to finish up this-this little dwarven errand.” 

[y/n] all but threw herself over him in a haphazard hug, drawing out a startled laugh from the hobbit.

“Thank you,” she muttered into his hair. “I cannot wait to do all those things with you.”

“Anything for you, my love,” he replied, “and until then… even if we can’t, we can’t together.”

-

✨

taglist my beloved @starlady66 @queenmeriadoc @entishramblings @thesolarangel @silversword7000 @friendofthefellowshipsnerdblog @averys-place @valkyriepirate @emmaarenstarr @noldorin-painter @asianbutnotjapanese @adamgetawaydriver @fenharel-enaste @ironmandeficiency @starryeyedrogue @dinofromspac3 @wisheduponastar @lady-of-imladris @frodo-cinnamonroll @unethicallypleistocene @deadlymistletoe @suncran @high-sea-husbands @asianbutnoteastasian @aidansloth @moth-makay

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[imabeautifulbutterfly]

Hihi~

Congrats on 450 followers! You deserve it~

May I please get Jango Fett with a f!reader with the prompts "Working together again, it's just like old times." And "Can't sleep?"

Please and thank you~

❤️ - @vodika-vibes

Thank you so much for the congratulations and for being my first request @vodika-vibes

I've never written Jango before, but I hope I did him justice after a quick research.

Love oo,

His Princess

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Jango watched as you took a sip of your drink. It’s been a long time since you two have worked together. In fact, the last time you did, things progressed more than he would’ve liked … who was he kidding, he wished he could have more with you. But that wasn’t going to happen. Not in this life anyway, not when everything in his life was up in the air after he lost as Mand’alor. If he had kept his title, maybe things would’ve been different, maybe he would’ve found you sooner, maybe instead of seeing you in this cantina, he would’ve seen you waking up beside him in his arms. With the sound of tiny feet running around in the early mornings. Maybe … 

He stood from his seat, and promptly took the seat in front of you, “Princess, been a while.”

“That it has…” Your eyes narrowed on his visor, you wanted to be angry, you wanted to tell him to get up and walk away, but you knew you couldn’t. Not when he already possessed so much of your heart. “What brings you here?”

“A job” Jango wanted to keep it simple, straightforward. No unnecessary promises or expectations. At least he would try to keep it simple. 

“And you need me for that?”

“I trust you”

That was the pinnacle of it, wasn’t it. Just those three words and you were ready to jump up and walk on to his Firespray, who cared about your heart, your feelings, or how devastated you’d be once he walked away again or dropped you off somewhere without so much as an ‘I’ll call you.’

“Well that’s the real crux of it, isn’t it?” You let out a sigh, you both knew you’d say yes. That was never going to be a doubt, but you weren’t going to give in to him that easily.

“How much?”

“10,000… but since we’re friends, you can pay me half now, half when we’re done.”

Jango rubbed his thumb and forefingers together, “Fine.”

“Now, look at that” you smiled, trying hard not to let the joy in your heart beam all the way to your lips, “working together again, it’s just like old times.”

“I’m at docking bay D-342, I’ll be leaving in two hours. I’ll have your money ready, then.”

“Docking bay D-342.” Was all you repeated, as he stood and walked out of the cantina. You sat there letting out a shuddering sigh, as you tried to keep your nerves intact. You couldn’t let yourself fall for him again, you couldn’t afford to spend two weeks in bed crying that he wouldn’t come back. You couldn’t. 

You swallowed your nervousness and anxiety with a final swig of your drink. 

You glanced down at the bag that held all your belongings, you don’t know why he gave you two hours, but you didn’t really need them. The irony was, you were always ready to go in case he did show up in front of you once again, now that he had … you just couldn’t move your feet to actually go after him. 

You slowly walked up the ramp of his Firespray, you dropped your bag in the spot that had been ‘yours’ from way back when; at least until he felt you had gotten too close … or maybe it was that he got too close, or maybe you weren’t close enough… frankly, you didn’t want to think about that anymore. You had spent months worrying about, trying to figure out what you did wrong, finally you decided you were done thinking about it, but low and behold you’re back on the ship not even five minutes and you were already spinning. 

You closed your eyes, steadying yourself, as you climbed the ladder into the cockpit, sitting beside him. 

“Here” Jango passed a pouch full of credits, “your first half.”

“Thanks,” you took it without further discussion, and tucked it into your pocket. You didn’t need to count it. You trusted him just as much as he trusted you. 

“You can sleep if you want” he finally stated after almost three hours of silence in the cockpit, nothing being said by either of you as you looked out the transparisteel screen at the hyperspace lane before you. 

“No, thanks”

“Still, can’t sleep?”

“I can … sometimes … rarely.”

“Try now, I’m here. You’re safe.”

You turned your head to look at him, and there it was - the reason you had fallen in love with him. He was your shield, your rock, no matter what, you knew he’d be there to watch over you.

“Why …” you caught yourself before you finished your sentence, there was no point in asking, why, he left? Why, he never called? Why did he bother walking back into your life now? 

“Why…” he repeated, hoping you’d finish your sentence. Hoping his Princess would ask him to stay, to never leave her again. God, how he wanted you to say it. He needed you to say it. 

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” You changed the question, there was no point in pulling a thread you knew wouldn’t be going anywhere.

“Making sure I have all the details I need for the job, double checking a few things. Seeing if we need to stop somewhere before we get to our destination.”

You nodded, letting out a sigh. You weren’t sure what you were expecting as an answer, but you should’ve known it would’ve been a pragmatic one. “Alright, well … I’ll try and close my eyes for an hour or two.”

“We have some time before we get there, so just sleep as much as you can.” Jango focused on the screens in front of him, he couldn’t look at you right now, because if he did, you would’ve seen the longing in his eyes, wanting you to ask him to join you. Wanting … no, needing to wrap his arms around you, to smell your hair, to feel your body pressed against his … he couldn’t look at you until he got his own feelings and desires under control. Your actions were clear, you’d be here to help him with the job, nothing more. 

You stood, hesitating for a second before you climbed down, wanting to tell him you needed him to join you. But your mouth wouldn’t open, it refused to let your heart speak no matter how much you begged. You looked at the back of his head one last time, praying he’d turn around and look at you, praying he could see how much you needed him. But he never did, so you climbed down and headed to his quarters. Even if he didn’t join you, at least his bed smelled like him, and for a brief few hours you could delude yourself into thinking you belonged here.

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[dracothedeatheatingcupcake-ao3]

Hey sorry if this is weird but are you doing okay? I hope ur day is nice and ur super cool and write great fanfics!

Hi! No, it's not weird at all, ha. Thanks for checking in! And I'm glad you like my fics!! :-D

(Warning, mini rant up ahead. It's about things that happened months ago, but still. Warning. It also gets a bit long and heavy in places, since this is a bit of a loaded question for me these days, ha.

Also, I'm putting a read more, since this OF COURSE got way too long 😅)

Before the read more, though, I just wanted to say that tomorrow is my birthday and I'm turning 26, which is both terrifying and exciting! :-D Also I like colors. :-)

Now, to answer the question... ehhh. It's complicated. If you'd asked me this back in October/November, my answer would have been a very firm "NO." I was... not doing good back then. It was a mix of things, like an upcoming internship I was terrified of, and my half done thesis that I was constantly putting off, but mainly it was an absolutely TERRIBLE sub supervisor at work who kept changing our schedule then getting mad at me when I didn't know what was going on and got stressed out at the change (since I'm the kind of person who needs a schedule or I flounder). For example, she always wanted us to prep snack for the kids before the program started (I'm an after school teacher), but she wouldn't buy the snack until the day of, and then she'd be late, getting there maybe 5 minutes before program started, which is when I needed to be in my classroom, since I was by myself with like... 20 1st-5th graders. She straight up hurled abuse at me and my coworker because of it. She also got mad at me when I refused to do things that would put myself or the kids in danger, such as leaving me alone with 30+ UTK (preschool)-5th grade students running around a field that was 5 minutes from our usual classroom and at least 2 minutes away from the next adult, all while I was recording the laps they were all running, something that was already a challenge with two people and that I struggled with doing in a good day since I'm an awful multi-tasker.

Now, one thing to note about me is that I take great pride in my work. I've worked with kids for over 5 years now, and have been in a graduate program to become a school counselor for almost 3 years. I KNOW how to be around kids. I am very competent at my job and the kids all respect me (I hope) and I care very, very deeply for all the kids, especially the "older" kids I work with. But I legit wanted to quit multiple times during the 3 months she was my supervisor. If I didn't know she was only a sub, I would have. My coworker did, and while the supervisor wasn't the only reason, it was part of it. I had 2 panic attacks at work alone, struggling not to cry in front of the children, which I never want to do because I don't want to worry them. And of course the supervisor got mad that I had my coworker get the kindergarteners (which, by the by, IS NOT SUPPOSED TO BE MY JOB SINCE I WORK WITH THE OLDER STUDENTS, but she forced me to do it anyway, making me late starting in my classroom, which stressed me out more) during one of my panic attacks. Oh, and she also made me walk to the front of the school to pick up kindergarteners (which is a long walk from our classrooms) despite me saying that I had SEVERELY hurt my foot and that walking on it hurt. And she claimed I didn't do my work, despite the fact that I was the only one who was doing my job, it was her who wasn't, which made me unable to do mine.

So... yeah. The beginning of the school year last year was awful, but it got really bad in October, when my coworker quit and I was left alone with this supervisor for a month and a half. And if anyone is curious, I did actually complain to her supervisor after she made me walk on my injured foot and said I "wasn't doing my job" JUST BECAUSE I COULDN'T WALK, EVEN THOUGH I OFFERED TO PICK UP THE UTK STUDENTS INSTEAD. But while her supervisor was very apologetic while I was talking to her, literally nothing happened. Not even an apology. And I'm still working with this woman, though she's not my supervisor anymore. She's the assistant supervisor, but she's been subbing at other schools recently, so I've not had to see her much. Ironically, when she is around, I get along fine with her. That's one of the reasons those several months hurt so much; we were kind of friends beforehand. And we're kind of friends again. I've never been one to hold grudges, luckily. But that doesn't make it hurt less. Obviously, since it's still bothering me several months later. (Oh, and side note, but this supervisor was in her mid to late 30's. So, it's not like she's young and didn't know better.)

But that was months ago. And once my usual supervisor came back (who I'm also friendly with, and who is FAR more competent than the sub) things got a lot easier. I still have my internship to worry about, which is it's own brand of stress, but things have calmed down a lot since then. Not as good as it was before, but... I'm getting there. Oh! Another thing that helped was that I finally finished my final project/thesis, which had been a source of stress for months, since I was almost 6 months late to starting and even more to finishing the project, the whole thing with my sub supervisor making it all worse. But I finished it and turned it in last month, and my professor said I did really well and that I should be proud. I was terrified it was awful since I struggled so hard, and it was so relieving to know that it was good and that I'm done.

Also! Like I said earlier, it's my birthday tomorrow! I'm turning 26, which is... a weird number. Far more than I ever expected. Not because I thought I'd die, no. But just... I never really thought this far ahead as a teen, you know? I was so focused on getting through college, and then grad school, that the passage of time kind of got all wonky. I'm also a little nervous, since my last two birthdays have... sucked. A lot. Last year my dad's appendix burst right after my birthday dinner and he spent several hours in the hospital waiting area, none of us knowing what was wrong with him. And then, after we learned what was wrong, we were worried he would die from sepsis or a complication with the surgery, since my dad is a larger man and is not the healthiest. And the year before we learned we had mold in the wall between my and my brother's bedroom, so we'd have to move out a week later for at least 3 weeks while they fixed it. Which was terrifying, since the reason we had to leave our old apartment was because of mold. They sprayed some mold killer that my mom was horribly allergic to, so we had to move abruptly, and we were all terrified we'd have to abruptly move in the middle of the year, when rent everywhere in my area is stupidly high. We have a good rate where we currently are, since we've lived here 15 years, but anywhere else...? Yeah.

This ended up longer than intended... but I think anyone who follows me here knows to expect that when asking me a simple question by now, ha. Ultimately I'm doing... alright. Not great, not terrible, but... okay. Basically, I was treading water before, but now I'm holding onto a life preserver, if that makes sense. Out of immediate danger, but at risk of falling if things get worse again.

If all goes well, though, I will be done with my grad program by April, and then I will be going on a sort of graduation cruise with my parents during Spring Break, then in May I'm going to Japan with my brother, as a dual graduation, 30th birthday celebration for him (his birthday is March 10th, but he didn't want to go to Japan in March since the weather isn't great. And he didn't want to go in April because it's busy with Golden Week and cherry blossom season). I've been actually planning and budgeting this trip, which is exciting, since I have a lot of cool things planned and I really hope the trip goes as well as I'm hoping it will. I also hope I might be able to find some Danganronpa things while there, since it is more popular in Japan, I think? Not sure if there will be merch for it, since it is older, and I honestly don't know if it was that big in Japan, but I can hope, ha. I'm also excited for all the Nintendo and Pokémon things, since I love Nintendo and Pokémon.

Now, I should end this here or I'll be talking all day, ha. Sorry for the wall of text, but I've not really spoken about any of this on here, since it was just... not easy. But it's getting better. And the fact I'm writing again showcases that. I'm more than halfway done with my next chapter of my Bowuigi fic, Luigi and the Beast, which I feared I was done with for good. I don't know if I'll keep writing after this chapter, but writing anything after months of anxiety and writer's block is amazing.

Finally... thanks for checking in. And I'm glad you like my fics! If it isn't obvious by now, I have a lot of anxiety surrounding my writing, so I'm really glad that people do enjoy it. ^-^

[eulcgizeme]

You've got to be fucking kidding me. Nate stood still, frustration just a glaze over his features as he had to relinquish control to Rhea. The assumption that it was only drugs was done with little effort, though Nathaniel liked to believe he feigned sobriety well to curve away from the cravings that plagued him every day. Her tactic of fright and tears, however, was one he had to applause as much as it commended him. No one likes to see another person cry, the discomfort something even he was subjected to even if he was in on the play.

"Hey, hey, stop that!" The man protested, loosening his grip on Nathaniel before giving him a look. "You involving your girl in your bullshit now? You can't get it up or something, Von?"

"If that makes you take pity on me, Marcus, for the love of god, yes. I need a hit before I can get it up," Nate sighed, hands above his head in surrender as he checked again for another physical threat. "Can we get this over with? I paid you off for last time already. I can start a new tab."

A scoff rang out between them all, Rhea's disruption forgotten for a single moment. Marcus seemed more interested in embarrassing Nathaniel than anything else.

"You took a whole month to get us what you owed. With what I sold you, I shouldn't have to see your face for another one," He said. "You want another tab, you give me collateral until you pay the first round, alright?"

He pressed against the wall again, door still swinging open between them. This was his last shot, his last hoorah. One more game of artificial bliss, and Nathaniel would find other means. This, however, had to be what he needed to finally end this chapter. He picked his poison, and it landed him here.

"I've got the car, the bike, the fucking down payment on the venue," Nathaniel offered, pushing the man off of him as he faced them both. "I also have my contract to the band. If I don't pay you back, I'll have them breach it and give you half the earnings."

It was more than disloyalty he offered, but anarchy as a means of getting what he wanted. He would sabotage the one thing he had dedicated his life towards for what he needed.

"Rhea, get in here," He hissed at her, an itch gnawing at him as he was so close but not satiated. "She's here as a witness that I have what I'm offering. If I don't get it to you, she will."

Rhea felt like something was amiss, even if Nate had a knack for hiding things from her when he was determined to. It made her uneasy, more than she was just by being in a place like this. And when the door was promptly slammed in their faces? That sense of uneasiness was only heightened, Rhea stepping slightly closer to the male for some sense of security. Why though? He was the reason she was here, after all. Why she had a knife stashed on her person that didn’t belong to her.

And yet despite all that, he still made her feel safer than she would on her own.

“Geez, no faith in my stabbing skills at all. Unbelievable.” Rhea scoffed under her breath, but nodded as she relented in a softer tone. “I’ll hand it back, Nate, don’t worry.” The last thing they needed was for him to be so concerned about her handing it back, that it distracted him.

Of course they couldn’t just let Nate walk in like (what she assumed would be) a normal buy. As soon as he was shoved up against the wall, and his captor’s questions turned on Rhea, she found herself shoved into her own bad situation. One which she decided to flip the switch on…as her eyes started to well up with fake tears. “I’m so sorry sir. My boyfriend and I were on our way back to my place when he told me he needed to swing by here to pick something up. I’m assuming it’s drugs, but all I know is that he didn’t want to leave me in the car because he felt I’d be safer with him.”

Right about now, she was thankful she’d been able to fake crying ever since she was a kid. Rhea was just hoping her blubbering would be annoying enough that the guy would want to move along.

[kennarose1108]

Daryl Dixon x Reader (HE CHEATS)

You two have been arguing a lot lately. Not understanding why but you both did. Everything you both did just seemed to annoy each other. And your arguments got so bad that Rick had to sit you both down and tell you, you can't be arguing late at night anymore. It kept the main group and everyone else in the prison awake. Worst of all it kept Judith awake.

So you both decided you needed some space. He slept in one cell and you slept in another. It had been days since you two decided to have some space and neither of you had spoken to each other. You both felt shitty, missing each other but too stubborn to apologize or say anything to each other. You were currently getting the crops with Hershel, he kept on looking at you with worry, seeing your frustrated and sad face. He decided to break the ice.

"Y/N? Can I ask you something?" You snapped out of your thoughts and looked at him. "Yeah Hershel what's up?" You ask. "What's going on with you and Daryl?" He asks. You stare at him for a moment before looking back down at the crops. "I... I don't know. I just love him so damn much y'know? But being cooped up together is driving us mad. I'm worried I'm losing him." You say while bending down to grab more crops. "Maybe tell him how you feel. Sit him down and work it out. Even though you love each other you don't have to be together twenty four seven, just have time to be together and times where you're not." You chuckle. "Like a normal couple?" You ask. "I guess." He chuckles too. "That... That doesn't sound half bad Hershel. Thank you." You turned to him and smiled, he gave you one back.

But meanwhile as you were fawning over this the last couple of days in your head Daryl had been putting his frustrations out on... Something else. More like somebody else. For months Karen had been trying to get him into bed, but he refused. But on the first night you two had some space he sneaked into Karen's cell and had sex with her. Over the past few days that's all he had been doing was sex with her.

He was so sure you two were done... He had never seen you like this. You were usually so kind and sweet to him and now you were just screaming at him and calling him names. He thought you had finally grown tired of him just like everybody else and was just sticking around to not hurt him. And that same night he was walking over to Karen's cell when he heard someone call his name. He turned his head and saw you jogging towards him. "Hey.. Can we talk?" You ask. He looked down the hall before looking back at you, nodding. He followed you back to your cell and you ordered him to sit down. He stared at the ground as you both sat in silence. You were standing in front of him... Thinking of the first thing to say. His breath hitched, waiting to hear the 'we're over' words come out of your mouth.. But instead...

"I'm sorry." He froze. He looked up at you and saw how upset and sincere you were. "I'm sorry for everything I... I've just been frustrated because we've been cooped up in the place for.. Forever." You shook your head, staring at the ground in shame with tears in your eyes, one slipping from your eye. "I don't want to lose you Daryl.. I want to work things out... If you want to of course.." You whispered the last part. That's when the tears started to pour down his face. You didn't look up until you heard his breath hitch. "Daryl..?" He grabbed your hand and pulled you into his lap, hugging you tightly and crying into your shoulder.

"I'm sorry.. I'm so so sorry..." He cried. You hugged him back tightly. "It's okay Daryl.. You're not at fault." He shook his head and continued apologizing. He apologized so much that it made you worry. You pulled away and looked at his teary eyes. "Daryl... What's going on?" You ask. He stared down in shame, taking in the possible last time he'd ever hold you like this again.

"I.. I've been sleeping with Karen." Your face fell. You stood up from him and he whispered a 'no' and wanted to hold you back but he knew he couldn't. "You... You did what?" You stumbled on your words. "Y/N I am so.. So sorry." You looked around in a panic, looking for answers, desperate for answers. "W-Why?" Was all you could mutter out. "I thought you were going to leave me. I was sure of it. I wanted to put my frustrations out on somebody else." He sniffled. "I love you-" "Don't touch me!" You smacked his hand away as he tried to touch you. "I love you." He muttered out again. "You just don't love me enough to not sleep with someone else when things get tough." You say while clutching your chest. "No.. No that's not true." He shook his head. "Why... Why would you do this to me?" You ask, your voice breaking as you broke into a sob.

His heart shattered seeing and hearing how broken you were. "Did you do this just to hurt me?" He stood up. "No... No god no. I thought that maybe if I distracted myself with something else before we broke up that it wouldn't hurt as bad." He explained. You chuckled through your sob. "Even if we did break up the pain I'm feeling now wouldn't even be a comparison." You sobbed. "Is that where you were going when I came and found you?" You asked. He didn't answer, he just stared at the floor with a heartbroken expression.

You let out a broken and exhausted deep breath. "Oh god..." You cradled your face in disbelief. "Y/N please..." He tried to hold you but you just shoved him away. "NO! Don't!" You yelled. "I can't even..." You started to hyperventilate. "I can't even look at you." You whispered while turning away and leaving the cell. Daryl just stood there and sobbed, hearing your footsteps echo down the cell block. He sat down on your previous shared bed and cried into his hands.

What had he done?

MASTERLIST

[thebangtancloud]

A bts reaction: Doing a tiktok dance with him?

You do a TikTok dance with him ~ BTS Reactions

A/n: Have mercy on me, I live in a country where TikTok is banned and I have never made a single TikTok in my life, so I've tried my best hehehe. Also, all the TikTok's below are k-pop/k-drama themed.

@persefoneniverse thank you for helping me with the ideas!!

Featuring Mingyu of SVT cuz why not?

Reactions Masterlist || Main Masterlist

Kim Namjoon:

"We really chose the easiest one, (Y/n), how can you be crying about this?"

"It's boring," you stretched out the word with a whine, tugging at his arm and attempting to pull him towards the couch to take a seat.

"Gosh," Namjoon rolled his eyes dramatically at you. "C'mon, (Y/n), it won't even take a minute, just do as we practiced."

"Joonie..."

"(Y/n)," he gave you a look. "We'll stop right after, promise."

"This is stupid," you huffed with a big pout. "It's not even a proper dance!"

"As if you'd do a proper dance!" He exclaimed in disbelief. "I literally spent the last two hours trying to convince you to do this one, and now you're saying this."

"Like come on," you raised your hands up in question. "We're literally doing the Woo to the Young to the Woo thing, how on earth is that even a dance?"

"Would you rather do a proper dance?" He placed his hands over his hips. "I can think of a few."

"No," you immediately shook your head. "This is too much already."

"(Y/n)," he chuckled fondly at your tactics. "It's not even complicated. It's cute and simple. Plus, it's trending right now."

"I'm a lazy sloth if you didn't know that already."

He nodded with a snort, taking your hand and pulling you back to where his phone was.

"I did. That's why I chose this one for us, babe."

Kim Seokjin:

"Jesus Christ," Hoseok shook his head and threw his hands up into the air.

"I give up! I can't, I literally can't with these two!"

"I told you before, hyung," Taehyung chuckled and welcomed Hoseok with a bottle of cold water, both the men settling onto the floor and choosing to observe the mess instead of being a part of it.

"These two have rods for spines, I swear."

On the other hand, you and Seokjin were trying to recreate the famous TikTok that Hoseok, Jimin, and Yoongi had made a few months ago, but somehow, neither of your legs were cooperating.

"Jimin really made this look so easy," Seokjin frowned with an embarrassed laugh, scratching the back of his head briefly before meeting your gaze.

"Why is Jimin not here?"

"I thought Hoseok would be a good teacher," Seokjin rolled his eyes. "He gave up way too soon."

"I would too," you chuckled at the playful glare that Hoseok shot you both from the corner of the studio. "We've been nothing but clumsy goats for the past half an hour."

"But how do they even move their legs that way? My right leg won't move right," Seokjin couldn't help but complain, pulling out his phone once more to look at the video again.

"Why don't we just try another one," you suggested, on the verge of giving up just like Hoseok had a few minutes ago.

"I'm an idol, (Y/n)," Seokjin narrowed his eyes at you. "I've done steps trickier than this."

"Then why can't you do this one?" You laughed at the way he huffed in frustration.

He gave it a thought for a solid minute before shaking his head adamantly.

"I'm getting this done. I can do this."

"I'm not too sure I could, though."

Min Yoongi:

"I feel like I've been cheated on."

Yoongi stood at the door of the bedroom, holding up his phone and clutching at his chest dramatically.

"How could you do this to me?"

"Do what?" you asked him with a smirk.

"You did this TikTok with Jungkook! How could you?!"

"You didn't want to do it," you shrugged innocently, burying your head back into your book to hide your smile from Yoongi.

"So you did it with Jungkook?!"

"Mhm."

"(Y/n)," he gasped in disbelief. "Are you...is this revenge for that day?"

"I dunno what you're talking about," you mumbled into the pages of the book.

"You're... you- wah! You're getting back at me for giving you the silent treatment that day, aren't you?"

"I still don't know what you're talking-"

"Get up."

You looked up from your book in confusion, albeit enamored at the frenzied look on his face.

"What?"

"I said get up. Put your book away. We're filming a TikTok right now."

"It's two in the morning, Yoongi!"

He shook his head aimlessly, already grabbing your arm and pulling you off of the bed.

"Should've thought of the consequences after filming that TikTok with Jungkook. How could you? How could you do this to me?!"

Jung Hoseok:

"I can't believe I'm doing this with you," you gushed, pausing briefly to wipe at the sweat that was rolling down the side of your face.

"It's legendary," Hoseok smirked proudly. "You're literally doing the Chicken Noodle Soup Dance with...me."

"Okay, you kinda sound self-obsessed there," you slapped at Hoseok's shoulder playfully. "But no kidding, it's crazy that I get to do this with you."

"I've done this with quite a few people," he sniffed in thought, bending to pick up his bottle of water, the heat of the practice room finally getting to the two of you.

"I know," you acknowledged with a proud smile. "That's why I asked if you could do this with me."

"I really love the idea," Hoseok grinned brightly at you. "I love that we're doing this together. You're a good dancer."

"Oof!" You closed your eyes and flicked your hair off of your shoulder, your smirk deepening even more at his words.

"To hear these words from j-hope! I must be blessed!"

"You kind of are," he teased you with a light-hearted giggle, throwing the bottle to the side before patting your back in preparation.

"Let's practice once more, then we'll get properly dressed and film it."

"Yessir!"

Park Jimin:

"You both are so cute it's making me throw up," Yoongi commented before taking another sip of his coffee and settling onto the floor of the dance practice room.

"He is cute, isn't he?" You cooed, pulling at Jimin's cheek as he concentrated on the video that he had recorded.

"Yeah, whatever." Yoongi couldn't help but roll his eyes. "He freaking invented a whole new choreography for you, (Y/n). Ya'll are going to go viral, mark my words."

"Babe," Jimin called out, pointing to the video with a frown. "Can we do this part again? My face looks weird."

"You look just fine, Jimin," you chuckled at how seriously he was talking. "It's me that looks like a clown."

"What're you talking about?" He pouted, shaking his head cutely. "You're so adorable, you're the reason why I couldn't stop giggling throughout the entire video."

Yoongi pretended to gag at Jimin's words.

"I'm also the reason you had to come up with a whole new choreography," you pointed out with an embarrassed titter.

"Maybe we can make a new trend," Jimin smirked.

"What if we become more famous than the original TikTok?"

"Have mercy," Yoongi groaned from the corner when Jimin squished your cheeks and planted a solid kiss on your lips.

"We will. I have a feeling we'll take over the internet."

Kim Taehyung:

"That's kinda cute."

Taehyung squeaked in surprise, whirling around and holding a hand to his chest in shock.

"(Y/n)! You scared me!"

"What are you even doing?" you chuckled, walking two steps into the bathroom after having watched him practice the steps to the TikTok that the two of you had given up on a few hours ago.

"Like," he frowned in thought. "It can't be that difficult."

"It really isn't," you laughed fondly at the cute little pout that was playing on his lips. "It was just too...silly."

"Right?!" His eyes widened, giving you a knowing look. "Like, all I could think of when the others were doing this was..."

"I would never do that?" you finished off for him, chuckling when he gave you a high five in response.

"Right. But then Jungkook and Jimin sent me this video," he pointed to his phone that was placed beside the sink. "And it honestly... doesn't look that bad."

"So you wanna do it?" you smirked at the sheepish smile taking over his expression.

"Kinda..." he trailed off with a boxy grin. "But we'll only post it if it looks better than theirs."

"Deal."

Jeon Jungkook:

"Just a little - no, (Y/n) concentrate!"

"(Y/n)," Mingyu chuckled at the exasperated yell that came from you, grabbing onto your shoulders when you lunged towards Jungkook with a clenched fist.

"It's just a dance, Jungkook!"

"We have to perfect it," he stated oh so seriously. "You gotta shake your hips a little more, it looks too stiff!"

"God," you groaned, turning to look at Mingyu who couldn't stop laughing at the two of you bickering.

"First of all," you raised a hand in the air for emphasis. "This song is one of his member's songs." You pointed to Mingyu.

"He's seen them do this step more times than you have, and if Mingyu doesn't have a problem, why do you?"

"Because, (Y/n)!" Jungkook's eyes were wide in disbelief. "I want it to be perfect!"

"Guys," Mingyu laughed lightly, coming to stand between you two to prevent a potential argument. "We're doing this for fun, let's not get too serious about it, Jungkook-ah."

"Exactly!"

"But it's the first time I'm posting this video, I want it to be perfect," Jungkook explained, giving Mingyu a look.

"You both give it a go, then," you rolled your eyes, turning to walk away with another frustrated yell. "You men sure do enjoy shaking your flat asses a bit too much."

"Hey! What do you mean flat?!"

"(Y/n), get back here!"

"I'm calling Hoshi. He'll teach me how to shake my ass better than you both ever could."

using this gif because it resembles the ondongi pang pang step so welllll lololol

Permanent Taglist: @jeonsorchid, @joondiary, @0xnna0, @cuteipat, @koalasandcuddles, @bangrauhl13, @blissedjoon, @underratedbitch-number13, @tinyoonsblog, @itachi-chi @sparkyprotectionsquad @scuzmunkie, @uno7, @jhopesucker, @kitty-kair

[imaginepirates]

Fleeting Memories

This request isn't really like anything I've done before, but here, the reader is James' child, and, after his death, is comforted by Gillette and Groves. (I've made this a bit of an AU where James makes it past AWE, but only goes on to die later.)

@emdrabbles @tesserphantom @viper-official @hellspawn-brownies @groovy-lady @wordsinwinters

~3,000 words

~~~~~~~

           Your hands trembled, almost ripping the letter in half. You hadn’t finished it yet. You couldn’t quite get past the word:

           Dead. 

           You would not--could not--allow yourself to cry in polite company, but the tears pricking your vision had begun to blur out the men that sat across from you. You wiped at them quickly, trying desperately to compose yourself. You would have time to cry later. 

           The tour was supposed to last a month. A month. Yet even after three, you had still heard nothing of the Dauntless or any of her crew. You had cursed the admiralty, feeling that they’d done nothing to resolve the situation, but you knew the facts. There was nothing they could do, even had they tried. You tried to tell yourself that your father was a capable commander, that he would somehow get his men home. And he had--some of them, at least. But he had not returned. You had nothing but a letter in his place. 

           Admiral James Norrington, killed in action. 

           Across the sitting room table, Gillette picked at a thread on his sleeve while Groves stared into his lap. They looked exhausted. Beyond what you had imagined they must, given all that had happened. Dark circles lay below their eyes, like bruises that had been beaten into them, and there was a pallor to their skin that should not have been allowed by the Caribbean sun. It was perhaps the first time you had seen Gillette without a smile. 

           You had known them both your entire life. Your father had been close to few, but you knew of the warmth between him and Groves, and that he had spent much of his time in the Navy alongside Gillette as well. They had taken care of you, as a child, when your father was off to sea and they were not. You remembered learning songs from Gillette, and walking on Groves’ feet. As you grew older, they helped your father teach you to fight; tutored you in the ways of maps and charts and reading the stars; even gave you their terrible flirting advice. It was hard to imagine a tense moment with them. They were family. 

           But sitting there, on that hard chair, nails digging into the wood, the very air around you held its breath. The tea on the table in front of you had gone lukewarm. You moved your mouth a little, not yet daring to speak lest the words get caught in your throat, but preparing for it. You had so many questions. 

           The letter had not been very revealing. It only told you that your father was dead, and offered what meagre condolences it could, penned by some unfeeling man back in England who had never known your father in the first place. I wonder if his mother got this same letter, copied as if just another part of the weekly news, you found yourself thinking. Then, I wonder if anyone bothered to tell her at all. How awful it must be for her, a husband and son, both lost to the sea. 

           You had managed to work some of the cotton out of your throat. Affixing your gaze to the wall on the opposite side of the room, you managed to croak out a single syllable. “How?” You took a shaky breath of air. “How did it happen?”

           Groves’ head snapped up, torn from whatever imagery had danced before his eyes. He cast a nervous look to Gillette, who, for once, did not look keen on speaking. Groves looked back at you, opening his mouth, then closing it, looking at you helplessly. 

           “I want to know.” It was barely more than a whisper, but it penetrated the air with more weight than a shout. “You can’t leave me wondering. What my mind will come up with will be worse than the truth.” James’ mother had told you that once, when you were discussing the late Admiral Lawrence. ‘My head swirled with so many thoughts, in those days, between knowing that he was dead and how it happened. Each thought was worse than the last. Had he been beheaded? Scalped? Mutilated? I knew those sorts of things happened.’ 

           “It was,” Groves began. “It was a sword, in the end. Right through the chest.”

           ‘In the end, it turned out he had been shot. Not so bad then, after all.’

           “He finally lost a fight, then.” It was hard to think of him that way, the man who had first put a sword in your hand, but you should have known. Even he was mortal, wonderful swordsman though he was. 

           “He didn’t have a sword.” That was Gillette, tone flat. “He didn’t have anything to defend himself with.”

           Ah.

           You couldn’t decide which idea was worse. You hated to think of him losing, losing a battle and then his life, knowing in the last moments that he had been defeated. But you hated too the image of his having nothing to fight with, helpless to whatever fate was chosen for him. 

           “He was trying to protect us.” Groves had returned to staring at his lap, fists clenching and unclenching over his legs. “He was trying to do what he could, but they’d taken away his sword, and he was already injured, and the other captain, he just…” There was a haunted look about Groves’ eyes that you couldn’t bear to see. “It went right through. Like an oar through water.”

           There was nothing more to say. 

           The silence stretched on, interrupted only by the ticking of the clock on the wall in front of you. You fancied that focusing on its hands hard enough would steady you. 

           The room was stiflingly hot. You wanted to be alone--you wanted to run outside, into the fresh air, gasping for it, sucking it in greedily like some kind of purifying ritual. You wanted to run free across the grass until your lungs burned and your feet were sore, and pitch yourself into the ocean’s salty embrace to swim until you collapsed of exhaustion. To feel so, so much, and to make yourself too tired to feel at all. 

           You could not bring yourself to send Gillette and Groves away. You were sure it would be a relief to them, to not have to look at you, a reminder of the friend they’d lost. And it would be a relief to you, not to have to look at them, a reminder of the father swallowed by the sea. But you could not do it. 

           “He always did do that.” Gillette’s voice was soft, uncertain, so uncharacteristic of himself that for a moment you thought you’d imagined that he’d spoken at all. “He always did look out for us.” Gillette drew himself up a little. “Remember that time in Madras?”

           At first, you thought Groves might shush him, but instead, he gave a watery smile. “Yes.”

           This wasn’t a story you’d heard. You suspected that many of your father’s stories went untold--he never had much liked speaking of himself, and hadn't wanted to encourage you into any shenanigans of your own. “What happened?” You whispered. 

           “He never told you?” Gillette looked surprised, though Groves only rolled his eyes.

           “Of course he never told. You think he wanted to admit to that?” 

           And all at once, they were shaking with quiet laughter, the tension in their bodies dissolving just as your letter might, if you dropped it in a basin of water. You felt some weight leave your own shoulders, surrounded by the familiarity of their laughter. 

           “Well,” Gillette began, “we were stuck in Fort Saint George on account of the fact that our captain didn’t want us ‘causing trouble’ with the locals, as he put it.”

           Groves interrupted him. “I can’t say I blame him. We were still midshipmen then, and prone to all manner of things. James was less adventurous than us even then, but the captain should have known that we didn’t actually need to be outside the fort to be ‘causing trouble.’”

           “Well, we were terribly bored. There are only so many card games a boy can play. At some point, someone suggested that we have a bit of fun and--”

           “And that someone was you, Andrew. Getting us all in trouble as usual.”

           “Well,” Gillette huffed, faking offense, “it’s not my fault the rest of you followed suit.”

           You couldn’t help the slight grin growing on your face. Their antics were always so predictable; you had forgotten how much you loved their stories. Always playing off of each other. One could even call it practiced. 

           “I decided we needed something to do. I couldn’t continue to swelter in the heat. Now, Captain Hawthorne was due to be gone from the fort for some time, and we were in India, you understand, where they have some very fine textiles, if I do say so myself, and the captain had bought some dresses he intended to take home to his wife, and one thing led to another. So there I was, in a dress that barely reached my ankles, having a good laugh.”

           You could only imagine it. Of course Gillette would put himself in a dress. And if they tell me Father wore it? I’m not sure I’d believe them.  

           “Yes, and then what happened?” Groves arched an eyebrow, more amused than anything.

          “And then Captain Hawthorne came back early. And I was still in his wife’s dress.”

           “Thankfully,” says Groves, “he would have no way of knowing the dress was gone unless he checked. He didn’t. The dress ended up in James’ room, after we realized we couldn’t get it back to the captain’s. He protested this, of course, but he was the least likely to be suspected of anything if the captain did find out.”

           “And it doesn’t end there!” A smile split Gillette’s face, an honest-to-god smile, and you could have cried to see it. An hour ago, you might have thought the man would never smile again. “Because the captain ordered room inspections. For cleanliness; he still didn���t know about the dress. We were all caught off guard. But it came to be James’ turn, and, well, he hadn’t the time to properly hide the dress anywhere, so a lieutenant found it.”

           “Lieutenant Irvine. Still remember that man to this day,” Groves said. “He was certainly taken aback by it. But there was a saving grace: he hadn’t known about the captain’s dress. He figured it was something James picked up. And who wouldn’t be surprised? Your father, with a woman’s dress? Nobody could imagine him seeing anyone.”

           Your smile grew, splitting your face, and a little laugh escaped your throat, strangled and tired, but there. Before you knew it, your cheeks were damp, caught laughing at the idea and crying at the memories. Groves wordlessly passed you a kerchief. 

           “Well, Andrew may have terrible ideas, but he’s a quick thinker of them. So as James fumbled to come up with an excuse, Andrew told them it was for his cousin.”

           “Oh I did. ‘The man has cousins, you know. And it can be so hard to get textiles like this back in England, the demand is so high, and can’t you imagine how pleased they’ll be? What did you think our dear James was up to?’ By that time, James was red as an apple, and Lieutenant Irvine wasn’t far behind. Embarrassed enough not to bring it up again, at least. Poor man.”

           “And that was that,” Groves concluded. “We got the dress back before the captain knew it was gone, but only because it ended up in your father’s room. Anyone else’s and we might have gotten ourselves into real trouble.”

           The story tasted bittersweet. He had a life, once. You expected there was much of it you didn’t know. Once, you would have jumped at the idea of learning anything about your father that he wouldn’t tell you himself. But stories about him would never be the same, now, without him there for you to tease.

           You wiped a hand over your damp cheeks, doing nothing more than spreading the tears around your face. ‘You will never think of them quite the same again.’ Lady Norrington had run a finger over a small portrait of her husband. ‘You will think of them in past tense. Who knew that tense could be so powerful? They’re just words.’

           Yet words did have power. And no matter how much they hurt, after hearing them, the words spoken about James brought him back to life, if even for a moment. A fleeting moment, where his shadow was at the door, where his hand was on your shoulder, where you were sure you could hear him scoff at his friends’ antics. 

           “What else?” you asked. “What else did he not tell me?”

           Groves raised his eyebrows, turning to Gillette with a smile. “I’m sure there’s quite a lot, actually.” He shot you a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry you have to hear about it this way.”

           “So am I.” Your breath was still unsteady. “But at least I’m hearing it.”

           “Oh dear. Did he ever tell you about the first line-crossing ceremony? As captain, that is?”

           “No.” You knew about such traditions, of course--you had to, living around so many men in the navy. Everyone had experienced one, in the Caribbean, having come over from England or the Colonies. 

           The ceremony was ritual for the navy. ‘Crossing the line’ referred to crossing the equator, and it marked a small turning point in the life of every sailor. There were ‘pollywogs’, or men who’d never crossed before, and ‘shellbacks’, who had been put through their ceremony on some other voyage. You knew of your father’s first ceremony; the others had made sure of it. But as captain, he would have been in charge of the entire scenario. 

           “James was embarrassed about it, at first. Said that dressing up for it made him feel ridiculous.” Groves smiled. 

           “I do believe I reminded him of the dress in Madras,” said Gillette. “He was more game for it all after that. Besides, he knew Theo and I were taking care of most of the setup.”

           “Oh, take care of it we did.”

           The ceremony consisted of interesting mariner’s superstitions, and quite a lot of embarrassment for the poor pollywogs. Firstly, the night before the crossing, the more senior officers of the crew dressed as members of King Neptune’s court. Queen Amphitrite, the royal baby, Davy Jones, and King Neptune himself, usually portrayed by a ship’s captain. There was a talent show, of sorts, where the pollywogs did singing and dancing and skits and poetry recitations for the ‘court’. You knew for a fact that as a pollywog, your father had done Hamlet’s soliloquy.

           Then came a day of trials and tribulations. The pollywogs awoke to breakfast, much too hot for them to eat. I wonder how many of those spices we get from Madras, you thought idly. The men were then taken to King Neptune to be given tasks as proof of their loyalty to the sea. They were usually made to wear their clothes strangely, crawl around through debris, and have the inedible breakfast slop dumped over their heads. It wasn’t about embarrassment, really, just about good fun. And yet father was embarrassed of orchestrating the whole thing; he wasn’t even being put through the ceremony. But he never had liked calling too much attention to himself, you supposed. 

           The last thing was a salt water bath, where every member of the crew got soaked to the bone. The poor pollywogs were often dunked, too, and made to hold their breath. It cleaned all the breakfast off them, though, and then they were done--official shellbacks, awaiting their turn to torture the next pollywogs they sailed with. 

           “We had James all dressed up.” Groves smiled at the memory. “We made him a crown of driftwood, even, and managed to force him into a sash. It was all quite ridiculous. Some of the younger boys were too scared to laugh, though they clearly wanted to.”

           “And what a figure he cut! Giving his speeches in that posh drawl of his.” Gillette tried to replicate the accent your father would take on when he was in command. “‘Now, men, you must be dunked. You can only have the sea in your heart if you’ve had it in your head and lungs, first.’ It wasn’t reassuring.”

           A watery smile crossed your face. You could just imagine him, perched on some sort of fake throne, giving orders to the crew like a king. He would have been terrible at it. Your father never had been a good actor--he’d read to you enough in your youth that you knew how bad he was at acting out different characters and parts. Still, it was endearing that he tried. 

           “James certainly had good stories.” A wistful look settled across Grove’s features.

           Your smile faded. “He’ll never make any more stories. He’s dead and gone, now.”

           “Dead, yes. But not gone.” You gazed up at Gillette, eyebrows knitting together questioningly. “Well, we remember him, don’t we? And so do hundreds of other people. There are people all around the world carrying their own little stories about your father. They, in their turn, will pass those stories along. James will never be gone. Not really.”

           Oh, Lawrence is still here. He’s in the paintings, the silverware, the old books of his study. He’s in the garden, wearing boots and planting a tree. He’s sitting by the window, teaching James to read. He’s in our bedroom, smoking, smiling around his pipe when I joked with him. He’s still here; he always will be. 

    You were another lone Norrington, now, but if you knew anything about lone Norringtons, it was that they faced the years with grace. James’ mother always had. 

           You find strength, even in fleeting memories. 

[missymurphy1985]

The Writer (Part 6)

Warning - Smut

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @peakyciills @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @noctvrnalmoth @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @namelesslosers @misscarolineshelby @screemqueen @cilleveryone @peaky-cillian @misselsbells06 @datewithgianni @heidimoreton @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch

You were convinced, and within an hour you were in his car on the way to Arrow House.

"I guess I owe you an apology Thomas."

"You don't owe me a thing y/n. Not a damn thing. What else could you have thought reading that letter?"

"I did think the handwriting was slightly effeminate."

"Okay now you owe me an apology, cheeky mare," he smirked, playfully smacking your leg. Instead of removing it, he kept it there, squeezing your thigh gently. You placed your hand on top of his and linked your fingers together, enjoying how his calloused hand felt in your soft one.

"Who is this maid?" You asked, stroking his thumb softly.

"She joined us around a month ago. Claimed to have been orphaned as a child. Frances has a soft spot for a girl with a sob story so I employed her."

"What's her name?"

"Jane something, I think... Or is it Lucy... I've got her paperwork in the office."

Pulling up at the house, he opened the car door for you. You smiled as he entwined your fingers again, your heart jumped every time he did.

Checking no one was around, he called for Frances and pulled out his office key. He suddenly froze, his hand quickly leaving yours and pulling his gun from under his jacket.

"Thomas?!" You gasped as he pushed you back into Frances who'd just come from the dining room. He motioned for you both to be quiet as he gently pushed the already unlocked and open office door.

He entered the room, and you waited with baited breath for him. You heard a commotion inside, something slamming across the room and you rushed in to find him kneeling on the floor, his chair in pieces.

"Frances - the new girl... Where is she??" He bellowed. Frances, to her credit, didn't waiver.

"She left this morning to fetch bread for lunch."

"You are the only one with a key to this room, other than me. Go and get your key, Frances."

She left the room nodding.

"Thomas what's going on?"

"The door was locked when I left y/n. As you can see, it isn't fucking locked now." Frances came back, her face ashen.

"I can't find my key Mr Shelby...."

The look in his eyes defied his calm exterior. He took her shaking shoulder in his hands and soothed her.

"It's not your fault Frances... Did anyone know where you kept the key?"

"Kathryn may have seen me put it away... Oh Mr Shelby I've been such a fool!"

"Frances come on, let me make you a cup of tea yeah?" You took a shaky Frances away leaving Tommy to his thoughts.

Half an hour later you'd managed to calm Frances. She was terrified of losing her job and home. Tommy came through and squeezed her shoulder warmly to reassure her. Sitting at the table with the two of you, he took a deep breath, almost to calm himself.

"Frances, you're not going anywhere. She clearly got under your skin and earned your trust. She's good, whoever she is. She even had me fooled. But I need to know everything you know about her - I mean everything."

"She kept herself to herself - she did her tasks well, she cooked and cleaned like she'd been doing it her whole life. Nothing out of the ordinary, if anything, she was a model maid."

"What about her background? Family? Friends?"

"None - her parents were dead. Father died in France. Mother died last year. She said she had an older sister but she died before the war."

"Any names mentioned?"

"I don't think so... She really did keep herself low key Mr Shelby. Oh I'm so sorry, what have I done..." She began to sob quietly again, and Tommy took you by surprise. He stood her up and embraced her like he would his own mother. Held her tight, rubbing her back, allowing her to cry.

"Frances you've been nothing but faithful to me in all the years I've been here. You've raised Charlie like your own, took care of him when I've not been here. He looks to you like a grandmother. I suppose you have been a mother figure to me, and I cannot have this house without you in it. Now believe me when I tell you - both you and your home are perfectly safe. Take the rest of today off, eh?"

"I couldn't, there's work to be done, and Charlie will be home from summer school at 10:30 - "

"It's not a request Frances."

"Yes sir. Yes I'll do that Mr Shelby. Thank you." She gathered herself and left the two of you alone in the kitchen. Once she was gone, he turned to you, running his fingers through his hair.

"Thomas, what was she looking for?"

"God knows. But she wouldn't find anything here, I'm not that careless. Nothing is missing, everything is accounted for in there."

"She's clearly dangerous though?"

"Maybe. But she left the door unlocked - she isn't coming back, she knows we would have found it unlocked."

"So where is she?"

"No idea. I'll call the boys, get them out looking for her. She can't have got far. Come on - I have her file in there, might be able to dig up something in there."

As you walked towards his office, you couldn't help but feel your core clench at the sight of the piano. He noticed your cheeks flush and smirked at you.

"Haven't been able to play since that night." He took your hands in his before going into the office, pulling you close to him.

"And why is that Mr Shelby?" He leaned down so his lips brushed your earlobe.

"Can't concentrate... I can still fucking taste you. I can hear your soft little moans as you cum. I can feel your cunt clenching my cock..." His words sent shivers down your spine and a pulse in your groin.

You cupped his growing erection in your hand and pushed him forcefully into his office, closing the door behind you.

"Missed me much?" He smiled, pulling your dress up quickly and noticing the damp patch on your underwear.

"Very much so. Hurry up and do something about that, will you?"

He chuckled, but instead of undressing you he took your hand and led you back out of the room, up the stairs.

Once in his bedroom, he closed the door and continued his assault. His lips pressed firmly against yours, backing you over to the large oak bed in the centre of the room. Your clothes quickly removed on both bodies, he lay you down gently, his lips roaming over your breasts and collarbone.

"Tommy please..."

"Please what, sweetheart..."

"I need you, please, I need you.."

"What do you need?" He hovered over you, his nose gently stroking over the top of yours. Impatient, and not in the mood to play games, you quickly turned your bodies so he lay underneath you. Straddling his thighs, you took his hard length in your hand, stroking up and down the shaft as his eyes flew down, watching you. Your thumb carefully sliding over the slit at the top, before hovering your core over him and sinking onto him hard, making him gasp. His hands gripped your hips, fingers digging into the flesh as you began to rock against him.

"That's my girl... Ride me - take what you need.." you weren't interested in slow and steady, you needed him hard and fast. Taking full control, pinning his hands above his head, your hips worked at double speed, riding him like a racehorse towards the release you'd been dreaming about since that night.

"Fuck... Tommy you feel so good inside me..." You could tell he'd never been dominated in bed before, it took him a few minutes to fully accept that you weren't going to relinquish control back to him. Once you were sure he wasn't going to flip you onto your back, you sat back up again, bouncing on his cock as hard and fast as you could.

"Can I touch you?" He asked between breaths.

"No.. no you stay exactly where you are Shelby... Don't you dare cum yet..." Your hips bounced harder, rocking into him. You felt your orgasm building quickly but you needed more. Dragging your fingers over your clit you watched his facial expressions. His eyes watching your pussy practically devouring him, he was trying so hard to hold on.

"Slow down... Fuck slow down..." You shook your head, you were too close to slow down. Your fingers worked your clit harder, the coil inside you unravelling powerfully.

"Fill me up Tommy... Give it all to me," you gasped as your orgasm hit you like a sledgehammer, your body frozen to the spot as you came. His hips took over, slamming up into you.

"Gonna fill you... Holy shit y/n..." His body stilled as he shot his load deep inside you. You felt it's warmth coat your walls, your core squeezing with every groan that left his mouth. You collapsed on top of him, both of you sweaty and breathless.

"I promise I'll last longer next time, you nearly killed me..." He laughed, stroking your back and kissing the top of your head.

"I'm sorry - I really needed that!"

"I did tell you to take what you needed. Fuck me, that was something else..."

He lifted you off him gently and reached down into his jacket on the floor. Rubbing his eyes, he suddenly turned a shade of white.

"What's wrong?"

"It's nearly 11. Charlie should have been home 30minutes ago...."

[sour--disposition]

Lover of Mine

-

jj olatunji x fem!reader

-

a/n: i started listening to 5sos again after like 3 years (thanks amy xx) and lover of mine makes me sob, so here we go

(gif from the lovely @sdmngifs​)

“Hope and I pray - Darling, that you will stay - Butterfly lies - Chase them away”

Of course you knew who JJ was when you’d first met him; despite what your friends thought, you didn’t actually live under a rock. You’d had no choice but to get to know him when two of your closest friends had attracted the attention of Ethan and Harry on a night out and spent the rest of the evening in the club with them.

You watched from the other side of the table as your friends flirted shamelessly. Hair twirling around fingers, teeth gliding over glossed lips… it was shambolic. “Let’s go for a girls night, they said. It will be so fun, they said”, you deadpan.

“Oh so this is a girls night”, JJ exclaimed, bursting out into laughter. “That’s cold, man”, he chuckled. “Come on, drinks on me”, he winked, taking your hand and leading you to the bar to pick up the next round for the table.

You’d spent the night chatting with JJ, occasionally dipping in and out of conversation with his friends and their girlfriends. It wasn’t until you’d turned to tell your friends that the next round was on you that you realised they’d left.

“The girls with Behz and Bog?”, Simon asked you. JJ nodded for you, knowing you didn’t know their names. “They all left about a half hour ago I think”, he told you sympathetically.

“Charming”, you scoffed, starting to gather your things, ready to call it a night. JJ took your hand before you could stand, though, leaning in close to speak to you.

“Fancy a nightcap?”, he asked.

Your immediate reaction was to say no. This famous youtube star come rapper come boxer would probably only want one thing from you, and you weren’t after that. But, how could you judge him, you’d only known him 3 hours. So, against what might have been your better judgement, you found yourself nodding and agreeing.

“Bailey’s?”, he asked once you’d entered his apartment, leading you over to the kitchen. You nodded, following him and watching as he poured out the two drinks. JJ knocked your glasses together gently before taking a sip.

You’d gone home that night with a big smile on your face and a new number nestled into your contacts, under JJ’s name. You still had your reservations about JJ, you’d only known him a few hours, after all. But deep down, you hoped that whatever you had could grow into something beautiful.

-

Being with JJ was daunting. He had a massive, devoted fan base, a successful career not in one, but three different industries… And you were you. The niggling, self-sabotaging voice in your head always reminded you that JJ could do better, that no matter how good of a person he was, he would get bored of you. It took a lot to ignore the thoughts, the feelings that haunted you in the dark nights on your own.

JJ would remind you until he was blue in the face, if he had to, that he wouldn’t stay just to humour you. He’d often joke that he was too busy to waste his time on someone that he didn’t think was worth it in the long run, but by the way he held you in the dark nights that you shared, you knew that there was at least some truth to that.

“I'll never give you away - 'Cause I've already made - Already made that mistake” 

The honeymoon phase with JJ was a whirlwind. Fancy dinner dates sat across from JJ, tight white shirt pulled across his biceps; nights out with his friends, tucked under his arm so he could proudly show you off; dancing around the living room on JJ’s toes at all hours of the night.

And then JJ had music deadlines coming up, music videos to film, Sidemen videos to film… It wasn’t strange to not hear from JJ for days at a time. You tried not to worry, JJ had never given you reason to worry in the past. But there were only so many rain-checks you could take without starting to doubt your relationship. You felt guilty, how could you not. JJ was working, doing his job… You knew all of this when you entered a relationship with him.

Things were starting to look up, though. You were in an Uber on the way to JJ’s, meeting him there for your first evening out together in well over a month. You were dressed reasonably for the occasion, jeans, nice top and some heeled boots. You were excited for a few hours of JJ’s undivided attention, time for you and him to just catch up and be a normal couple again.

You knocked on the door of the apartment, surprised when Simon opened the door to you. “Y/N?”, he asked, confused.

“I’m meeting JJ here before we go out”, you told him. Simon’s face twisted into a look of guilt and remorse. “He isn’t here, is he?”, you asked, eyes dropping to the floor.

“Come wait inside, yeah? He’s probably stuck in traffic”, Simon offered, moving back to let you step into the apartment. You thanked him, following him in, pulling your shoes off before walking over to the sofa. “You good?”, Simon asked, not walking back down to his office until you’d given him a nod.

You sent JJ a text, letting him know that you were probably early, but you were at the apartment. You pulled your feet up onto the sofa, getting yourself comfortable. You let yourself get lost in a cocktail of Youtube, Twitter and TikTok. You didn’t realise how long you’d been sat there until the low battery notification popped up on your phone. Your eyes flicked to the clock on your screen. 10pm. You’d been sitting there for 4 hours.

You rolled your neck before standing up, grimacing at the pops and cracks of your stiff joints. You walk down to Simon’s office, knocking on the door. “I’m off home”, you told him, popping your head around the door. Simon turned to you, seeming shocked that you were still there.

“It’s late. Just stay, I’m not letting you go home through the middle of London on your own”, he told you. You hesitated before nodding, wishing Simon goodnight and taking yourself off to JJ’s room. You grabbed a t-shirt out of one of JJ’s drawers, heading to the bathroom to get changed and take your make-up off.

It wasn’t until you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, fully made up and ready for your date, that you started to cry. You sat on the side of the bath, head hung in your hands, as you let out full bodied sobs. This is what you were worried about, this is what JJ told you wouldn’t happen. Cancelling and rescheduling dates was one thing, but completely ignoring you and standing you up… You were heartbroken. 

You scrubbed your make up off, throwing your hair into a bun on your head and changing into JJ’s shirt. You padded out to the kitchen, on a mission to make yourself a cup of tea. “You want a tea?”, Simon called when he heard you walking over.

“Please”, you said, voice small and watery. He smiled sympathetically at you. You must have made quite the sight, messy hair, tear tracks running down your face and an oversized t-shirt skirting around your thighs. You leant against the wall, staying out of the way as Simon moved around the kitchen. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?”, he asked you worriedly as he handed you your mug. 

“I will be. I just need some sleep, I think”, you told him, like your heart wasn’t tearing its way out of your chest as you spoke. You slumped off back to JJ’s room, crawling into bed and wrapping yourself in the duvet. You finished your tea, staring blankly at the wall opposite you, discarding the mug on the side table as soon as you were done.

 A fresh wave of tears started when you reached over to plug your phone in. You stayed at JJ’s that often that he’d bought you a charger so you didn’t have to worry about forgetting it. It seemed like something so trivial to cry over, but you couldn’t help it. That was the JJ you knew, JJ who bought you a phone charger so you had even less of an excuse not to stay over, JJ who bought your favourite brand of tea bags even though he knew you’d drink anything. Not this JJ, JJ who blew you off and stood you up.

 You hadn’t even bothered to shut the blinds, so you fell asleep staring out of the window, watching the lights of London’s skyline flicker and dance along the night sky.

-

You awoke to a sharp hiss and the other side of the bed dipping down. You looked over your shoulder, seeing JJ fumbling around in the dark. He looked over to you, face dropping with guilt. He opened his mouth to say something, but you simply turned over, tucking the duvet tighter under your chin.

 “I’m sorry”, JJ said behind you. “I know it’s not a good excuse, but time got away from me. We were writing and recording and next thing I know the producers started packing up, saying it was too late to do anything else”.

 He sounded genuinely apologetic and part of you wanted to roll over and let him take you into his arms and hold you until you forgave him. But a bigger part of you, an arguably pettier part of you, wanted him to suffer. You’d had to sit with no answer for hours, it was his turn now.

 JJ seemed to understand what your lack of answer meant. He quickly got changed and got ready for bed, sliding in next to you wordlessly. It took effort not to turn and wrap an arm or a leg around him like you usually would. “Night, Y/N”, JJ whispered into the dark of the room before shutting his eyes and willing himself to sleep.

 You awoke the next morning to JJ trying to bring a tray into the bedroom. You couldn’t help but giggle at the look of concentration cemented onto his face, tongue poking over his lip as his eyes stayed trained on the contents of the tray. “Good, you’re up”, he smiled once he’d rested the tray on the bed.

 “What’s this?”, you asked, shuffling yourself so you were sitting upright against the headboard.

 “An apology. I was a cunt last night. You don’t deserve that”, JJ started, perching himself next to you. “I fucked up. I’ve been fucking up. I’m so, so sorry”, he stressed, reaching over to take your hand in his. “I got tunnel vision with work. I shouldn’t have cancelled so much shit. Fuck”, he sighed.

 “Just promise you’ll try and make sure it doesn’t happen again?”, you asked, rubbing your thumb over the veins in JJ’s hand.

 “I promise. And if it does, just tell me. Tell me I’m being a cunt until I listen to you, okay?”, he said, smiling when you laughed and nodded. “Good”, he whispered, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to pull you in and press a kiss to your temple.

“When I take a look at my life - And all of my crimes - You're the only thing that I think I got I right”

 Your arm was looped with Talia’s as you walked into the club where JJ’s release party was being held. Banners decorated in album art were draped around the top of the club, lights of all different colours bouncing off of the pictures of JJ’s face. Talia led you over to the cordoned off VIP area of the club.

 “Restricted access”, the man said, voice low and gruff. 

 “We should be on the list. Talia and Y/N”, Talia told him politely. He checked his list against your IDs before lifting the rope and letting you through. “Drinks. C’mon”, she urged, pulling your arm and dragging you over to the bar.

 Once you’d both got a drink in hand, you walked over to find JJ. “Hello, Mister”, you smiled, reaching up to press a kiss to his cheek. “Congratulations”, you whispered. JJ just rolled his eyes lovingly before introducing you to Randolph and S-X. “It’s great to finally meet you both, JJ’s said great things”, you beamed, reaching out to shake both of their hands.

JJ excused himself to go and talk to some official people regarding the party and the album itself, leaving you with a soft press of a kiss to your forehead. “Love you”, he murmured quietly, before walking off into the swarm of people.

 You spoke to Randolph and S-X for a few minutes before excusing yourself to go and find Talia, Freya and the boys. “Y/N!”, Freya called when she saw you. “You look amazing!”, she gushed, reaching out to pull you into a hug. 

“So do you, Frey”, you told her, holding her tight. You’d only just sat down next to her when JJ came up beside you, resting his arm on your shoulder. 

“Are you wanting to sit down?”, you asked him, smiling up at him.

“Just wondered if you want another drink before I do, me and Simon are going for another round”, he told you. You nodded, squeezing his fingers quickly before he left. You jumped straight back into your conversation with Freya, Talia joining soon after, followed by Josh. 

At the bar, as they waited for the drinks to be prepared, Simon caught JJ staring at you. “You did good”, he told JJ, leaning in so the younger man could hear him over the music.

“She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me”, JJ said simply, turning to Simon. “This is great, YouTube is great… I love it all”, he started, “But I’d give it all up in an instant for her. She’s put up with so much shit for me to get this album out and to keep a consistent video schedule and stuff with the boxing and everything. She doesn’t complain, just tells me when I’m being a cunt and to sort my shit out”.

Simon looked at JJ, convinced he’d never seen his best friend as love as he was in that moment. “I’m happy for you, bro”, Simon told him honestly, slapping his chest supportively before turning around to grab one of the trays of drinks that had been left on the bar.

 -

 Back at the apartment, once your slinky dress was discarded on the bathroom floor and JJ’s Versace jacket had been hung haphazardly on the back of his chair, you waited for JJ to get out of the shower and join you in bed. You flicked through the photos that you’d taken or been sent of the night, landing on your favourite of you and JJ that Talia had sent you once you’d piled into the Uber.

You’d been forcing JJ to cycle through a whole album of poses, making sure you got at least one decent one from the night as you and JJ were renowned for taking the blurriest of pictures. Simon had made a quip about how JJ was whipped and JJ had sniped back. You’d burst out into laughter, head tilted back, as JJ stared at you lovingly. The picture captured it perfectly; JJ’s arm tucked around your waist, your hand hooked over his shoulder, the look in JJ’s eyes that you knew was reserved for only you…

 “Whaddya lookin at?”, JJ asked, jumping onto the bed next to you and yanking you into his arms. You showed him the photo over your shoulder. “It’s cute. Send me it”, he told you. Once JJ had removed himself from your back, you rolled over so you could face him. You watched as he received the picture and immediately went to set it as his lock screen. “What?”, he asked defensively when you fixed him with a soft look.

“It’s just cute”, you told him, leaning over to press a kiss to his lips. JJ’s hands came to your hips, guiding you over to sit on his lap. “I love you”, you whispered, resting your forehead against his. JJ nudged his head forward, dropping another kiss onto the corner of your mouth before looking up and meeting your eyes.

“I love you too, more than you’ll ever know”.

[helloalycia]

worth the wait [four] // daisy johnson

summary: now that Skye is back in your life, she's adamant on speaking to you whether you like it or not.

warning/s: mentions of PTSD.

author's note: don’t really have anything to say except enjoy i guess!

part one | part two | part three | part five | part six | masterlist | wattpad

I nodded to show Jemma I was listening to what she was saying, but honestly speaking, my thoughts were elsewhere. Half of me was glad to be leaving this quinjet whilst the other half of me was still adjusting to the fact that Skye was alive.

Ever since she'd spoken to me two days ago, she hadn't come back and I guess she'd taken the hint that I didn't want to see her. I was sure that was the right decision, but I also couldn't stop thinking about it. About her.

"...and just in case you happened to tune out to everything I said, it's all written here," Jemma finished, and I looked up to see her watching me with a knowing expression as she held out a piece of paper.

I accepted the paper and read the top; it was about the aftercare for my injuries.

"Sorry," I apologised quickly. "I really appreciate the help."

"It's okay, I know you've got other things on your mind," she said, leaning against the table as she watched me with concern. "I know it's not my place, but I've known Daisy a long time now and I know she's clearly apologetic about whatever happened between you both. She really wants to talk to you before you go."

I quirked a brow. "You mean Skye?"

She shook her head with realisation. "Sorry, yes. You know her as Skye."

Unable to stop my curiosity, I asked, "Why did she change her name?" Jemma seemed reluctant to respond, so I asked again. "Why, Jemma?"

"A lot has happened since you last saw her," she admitted. "She found out the truth about her family, her powers..."

"Her powers," I repeated slowly. "Because she's Quake."

"It's a long story," Jemma said conclusively. "You should talk to her though."

I looked down, considering what she was saying and definitely curious to who Skye was now, but I was also tired and wanting nothing more than to go home.

"When does the car come to pick me up?" I asked quietly.

Jemma sighed but straightened up. "Ten minutes. I'll have someone escort you out."

"Thanks," I mumbled, and she left to do just that.

As planned, I was allowed to leave the S.H.I.E.L.D. quinjet and go home, providing I agreed to some terms and conditions. I was allowed to write and publish my report on the human trafficking story, as long as I left out certain elements. I tried arguing it, but they were adamant and I guess, after all, I owed them my life, so I agreed.

When I reached home, my mum was the one to answer the door, already crying tears of happiness to my embarrassment.

"I can't believe you're here," she said between happy crying, whilst holding me tightly.

"Mum, I'm okay, I told you I was," I said, but couldn't stop the relieved smile from appearing on my lips. "I missed you."

She kissed the side of my head as she pulled away. "I missed you, too. Nine months, Y/N. Nine whole months."

"I know," I said, wiping away a tear that slipped from my eyes. "But I'm back now. Thank you for letting me stay with you."

"You know you're always welcome," she told me. "Speaking of, your dad is making up your bed now. C'mon, let's go see him."

I smiled, feeling myself fully relax now that I was in my childhood home.

–

S.H.I.E.L.D.'s new hero saves the day yet again!

Quake to the rescue!

Earth-trembling hero revealed as partner of S.H.I.E.L.D.

Avengers new competition with fellow hero QUAKE

I chewed on my lower lip as I read through the many articles about Skye AKA Quake. Not only was it startling that I had managed to miss a major plot twist in society by being MIA in Myanmar, but I could barely believe this crime-fighting superhero was Skye– Daisy, whatever her name was. She'd done so much good... and she'd saved me.

I leaned back in my chair, feeling like the seventeen year old I was when Skye left. I was back in the same house in the same neighbourhood as I was then and it felt like all of the feelings were rushing back. It was almost like a fever dream.

"Y/N?! Can you get the door?!"

"Okay, one sec!" I called back to my mum.

I took another look at the photos of Quake in the news from the past year. All I could think about was what Jemma said, about her finding her family and learning the truth. That was all she had wanted and now she finally had it. Looks like leaving was good for her...

Sliding my chair back, I got up and headed downstairs to the front door, but I saw my mum already there, about to open it.

She glanced at me disapprovingly. "If you say okay, would it kill you to get up? I was getting food out the oven."

"Sorry," I said with a sheepish smile.

She opened the door and I was about to head back up, but my mum's gasp took me by surprise.

"Miss Y/L/N, it's been a long time. It's great to see you."

"Oh my god, Skye..." My mum turned around and called, "Y/N, Skye is here!"

I pursed my lips and turned around, seeing her opening the door wider and pulling Skye inside.

"It's so good to see you, sweetie," my mum said, before pulling Skye in for a hug.

Skye was surprised, but a smile fell on her lips as she returned the hug.

"It's been so long, look at you," my mum said to her when she pulled away, before resting a hand on her shoulder. "You're all grown up."

Skye breathed out, looking down at herself before smiling up at my mum. "I– yeah. I have. And you look... well, exactly the same."

My mum chuckled before looking up to me as I stayed standing on the staircase. "Honey, look who it is!"

I forced a small smile, walking down the stairs. I met Skye's gaze and her smile faded as she looked to me apologetically.

"I'm gonna go get your father," my mum said to me, before looking to Skye with a look of disbelief. "Wow. We missed you so much, dear. I'm so glad you're okay."

She left before Skye could say anything, leaving me to close the front door and turn around to look at Skye with an emotionless gaze.

"I'm sorry for just barging in like this," she said instantly. "I was gonna call, but I needed to talk to you in person. Jemma said you came here and I just– I didn't think."

I swallowed hard. Now that I had time to get over my initial shock of her being, well, alive, I wasn't so easily triggered.

"I can leave," she said, when I didn't speak. "I can come back tomorrow if you want me to. I just had to see you."

I pushed a strand of hair behind my ear. "I don't think my parents are gonna let you leave. At least not until you've eaten dinner with us."

She opened her mouth to respond, but as if on cue, my mum returned with my dad in tow. He seemed just as surprised as my mum was and immediately gave Skye a quick squeeze.

"You're here!" my dad said with shock. "When Y/M/N told me, I thought she'd confused a stranger for you again. You know, she's done that so many times in Walmart."

"It's good to see you, Mr. Y/L/N," Skye said with a small smile.

"I've said it a million times before and I'll say it again, please call us Y/M/N and Y/D/N," my mum insisted.

"Right, sorry," Skye apologised with embarrassment.

"You have to tell us everything," my mum continued excitedly. "Where you've been, how you are, if you're well. I've just taken the roast out the oven. You have to stay for dinner."

"Told you," I mumbled so only Skye could hear.

She glanced at me apologetically before looking to my parents. "I really appreciate the offer, guys, but I can't impose like that. I was just hoping to see Y/N and–"

"There'll be plenty of time for you both to catch up after dinner," my mum said, before pushing Skye gently towards the dining room. "You must stay."

I sighed to myself as my dad nudged me in the shoulder encouragingly. Him and my mum knew how badly I missed Skye when she left, how much she meant to me. And I think my mum knew she meant just a little more than a friend, so this must've been a big deal for me in their eyes. And it was, I guess. But too many things were happening at once and I wasn't sure I could keep up.

Heading into the dining room, I saw they'd already sat Skye at the table, opposite me with both my parents on either end.

"Take a seat, Y/N, I'll bring the food in now," my mum said, ushering me to the table.

"I can help–"

"With that shoulder? I don't think so," my dad said, before joining my mum in the kitchen.

I pressed my lips together and took a seat at the table, noticing they'd already made a setting for Skye. They really didn't waste time.

"If it's any consolation, she wouldn't let me help either," Skye said, trying to lighten the mood, but I wasn't amused.

My parents soon returned with the dinner and left it on the table before taking their seats. Well, my mum did whilst my dad began putting food in for everyone. Once everyone had their dinners, my mum was quick to begin the questioning.

"So, Skye, what's new with you? What are you doing these days?"

I distracted myself with my food as I saw Skye looking between my parents in my peripheral.

"Well, I actually go by Daisy now," she corrected politely. "Daisy Johnson. Which, I guess, I can say that I found my parents. My biological ones."

"Oh, Daisy, that's a beautiful name," my mum said with a gasp. "I'm so happy for you. That's huge."

I glanced up at Skye– Daisy, as she smiled to herself. So, she'd found her parents after all this time.

"Yeah, it is," she agreed, before continuing, "They were hard to track down, but I found them through S.H.I.E.L.D.. I work for them now, as a field agent."

"S.H.I.E.L.D....," my dad said, furrowing his brows, before looking to me. "Aren't they the ones who rescued you?"

I nodded awkwardly. "Yeah, dad... it was actually, er, Sky– Daisy, who rescued me."

"You found Y/N?" my dad asked, before smiling with disbelief. "You're like a superhero!"

"Quake, to be exact," I mumbled, before stabbing the meat in my plate with a fork.

"You're Quake?" my mum asked with raised brows. "That girl on the news with powers?!"

Daisy seemed embarrassed as she nodded. "Yeah. It's a really long story, but I'm an inhuman. I was taken from my parents as a baby. HYDRA. Some S.H.I.E.L.D. agents found me and tried to keep me safe by putting me in different foster homes."

"Daisy, sweetie..." My mum frowned as she heard her story.

As annoyed as I was, I couldn't help but listen intently as Daisy spoke. She'd always shared the different possibilities that she imagined about why her parents had given her up. This wasn't exactly one of them...

"It's okay though, because I work for S.H.I.E.L.D. now and they look after me," she finished with a smile. "And I got to meet my parents before they died, so it's not all bad."

I exchanged looks with my parents and knew they were pitying her all the same. She'd found her parents only to lose them again... that wasn't fair.

"We're happy you found the answers you were looking for," my mum said with a sad smile. "And I'm sorry we couldn't meet your parents, but I'm sure they were lovely people."

"Oh, I told them about you," Daisy said with a nod, before looking around at us all. "All of you. About how you were there for me when nobody else was. About how you treated me like family even though I wasn't. They wanted to meet you, too."

"Well, Daisy, you know you're still family to us," my dad said proudly. "You're always welcome here."

"We were hoping that one day you would show up," my mum admitted. "Y/N especially. She really missed you."

"Mum," I groaned, mildly embarrassed.

"Sorry," she laughed, "I don't mean to make you feel awkward. I guess what I'm trying to say is we're really happy you're back Daisy."

Daisy met my eyes with her apologetic ones. "Me, too."

–

Dinner pretty much consisted of my parents wanting to know every little thing about Daisy's life and proceeding to tell her about mine, even when I wasn't getting involved. To say I was glad it was over was an understatement.

"You sure you don't want a hand?" Daisy asked for the third time, as my parents began clearing the table.

"You guys should catch up," my mum said quietly, but of course I heard it.

Daisy nodded and smiled at them both before following me into the hall. I could tell she wanted to say something, but didn't know how. So, I spoke up.

"Wanna go for a walk?" I asked awkwardly.

"Sure," she agreed, and waited for me to put my shoes on before following me out the door.

The sun was setting over the city as we walked down the street, a silence between us. I think she was waiting for me to say something, but I didn't know how to begin.

"Er, where are we going exactly?" she asked, hands in her jacket pockets as she walked by my side.

I almost smiled. "Remember the ice cream truck?"

She looked up instantly, surprise on her face. "That's still here?"

"Oh, no. They got rid of it a few years back. Replaced it with some playground equipment."

"Huh," she said, looking ahead. "Who would've thought it?"

I cracked a small smile, accidentally admiring her side profile. When I caught myself doing so, I cleared my throat and looked forward, walking the rest of the way in silence. Eventually, the park came into sight and I led her to the swing set that now replaced the old ice cream truck. It was pretty much empty since it was getting late.

"Very nice," Daisy approved lightheartedly, before sitting on the swing and moving back and forth slowly.

I sat on the one beside her, holding onto the chain with my free hand and gently rocking with my feet.

"Sorry that dinner was awkward," she said, making me look to her. "I didn't think your mum would make me stay. I only wanted to talk to you."

I shrugged, looking down. "They missed you. I'm not surprised they made you stay."

Daisy hummed in response, but the awkwardness still lingered.

"I never thanked you properly for saving my life," I said suddenly, unable to meet her eyes. "I know I was angry back on the quinjet, but I should've said thank you without the shouting. So, thank you."

"You don't have to thank me," she replied, and I grew nervous as I felt her eyes on me. "I was just doing my job."

"Right."

It was silent between us again and I grimaced as I couldn't find the right words. I had so much to say to her, so much planned, but now that I had her here, I felt like I had stage fright.

"You were right what you said, about me being a coward for leaving you with that message," she said regretfully. "I should've said goodbye. In person."

I sighed. "Sky– Daisy, sorry. Daisy, I didn't mean to say all those things. I was still shaken up from the whole HYDRA thing and seeing you was like no time had passed. That you were still my best friend who left me. I reacted horribly."

"But you were right," she said simply.

I finally looked to her, seeing the guilt in her expression. I frowned, feeling bad.

"You were just a kid," I reminded her. "You were going through a lot. I wouldn't have understood." She didn't say anything, so I added, "Besides, if you hadn't gone, you wouldn't have found your real family. And that's all you'd ever wanted."

She pressed her lips together uncomfortably, nodding to show she was listening, but I knew her well enough to know the guilt was still present.

"Daisy's a pretty name," I changed the subject, offering a small smile. "It suits you."

Daisy smiled to herself, nodding. "Thank you. My dad chose it."

I breathed out, still in disbelief. "You really did it, huh? You found your parents."

"I found them by hacking S.H.I.E.L.D.'s systems," she explained, eyes flickering between me and the ground. "I found a redacted document with my name on it not long after I left here."

"So I guess hacking benefited you more than I thought," I tried to joke, but we both felt uncomfortable and I immediately regretted saying it.

"I wanted to contact you as soon as I found it," she admitted. "To tell you what I'd found and how I was one step closer."

My expression softened as I looked to her. "Why didn't you?"

She shook her head, distracting herself by swinging gently. "I couldn't bring myself to do it. We'd ended on such a bad note and–"

"I wouldn't have minded," I told her. "I was hoping you would. I waited, but you–" I sucked up a breath as I remembered. "You didn't. And I tried looking for you, but you didn't want to be found."

She smiled sadly, eyes reflecting how I felt. I felt a tug in my gut as I remembered all the time I spent looking for her, just wanting to know if she was okay. I presumed she was dead when I found nothing... it was like it happened yesterday.

"I thought living in the shadows would work," she explained. "I deleted myself from the world. But S.H.I.E.L.D. found me anyway, and from there, the rest is history."

"Well. it all worked out for you and I'm glad," I told her truthfully. "You're happier now. More confident than the seventeen year old girl I remember. It was all I wanted for you."

"I appreciate that," she said, shoulders relaxing and meeting my gaze.

As I looked between her brown eyes reflecting golden in the evening sun, I felt my insides turning to mush. She was still as beautiful as I remembered, still the girl I missed. And now she was back. She was finally back and that thought made me feel emotional all of a sudden.

"Daisy?"

She blinked. "Yeah?"

I pursed my lips, swallowing the lump in my throat. "I really missed you."

She laughed and it made my stomach flip. Her eyes were glassy as they met mine. "I missed you, too, Y/N."

I stood up and she seemed to get the hint as she met me halfway, stumbling into a tight hug. I used my good arm to squeeze her, afraid that if I loosened my grip, she'd be gone. I found it amazing how even after so long, she still felt the same and my body knew where to fit in with hers.

My head tucked into her neck as my arm wrapped around her waist. I felt her return the hug, arms around my shoulders as they always had been. It felt good to have her back.

—

"Mum, I'm home!" I called as I let myself into our house.

"In here!" she called back and I followed her voice to the kitchen, where I was surprised to see her washing up with the help of Daisy.

"Oh, hi," I said, mildly startled, as I saw the brunette drying the dishes.

"Hey," she greeted with a smile, though her cheeks were turning a little pink. "I was gonna call, then I realised I don't have your phone number. So, I stopped by and your mum kind of..."

"I thought she could wait here until you came back," my mum finished, glancing over her shoulder and shooting me a smile.

Daisy looked to me with an apologetic expression and I couldn't help but suppress a smile.

"I should probably give you my number," I said with amusement.

Her shoulders relaxed as she breathed out through her nose humorously. 

Since she'd stopped by last time, we hadn't really established what would happen from then on out. I wasn't sure she had time to visit or anything, since she was a literal superhero, but I guess I was wrong.

"How was your hospital appointment?" my mum asked, before nudging Daisy and adding, "I'll finish up, sweetie."

"It was alright," I told her as Daisy dried the last dish and stepped away. "Just a checkup."

"The doctor say anything important?" she asked with concern.

"Nothing you wouldn't expect," I mumbled, not exactly liking the hospital. "I'm fine, mum, I promise."

"Okay, if you say so," she said apologetically. "I just get worried."

I sighed, before looking to Daisy. "Anyway, what's up?"

"You eaten?" she asked with a quirked brow. "I thought we could grab lunch. We didn't properly catch up last time and yeah."

I smiled. "I'd like that. I'm pretty much ready to–"

I jumped at the sound of a pan hitting the kitchen floor, my ears ringing at the noise. I closed my eyes as a reflex, hoping the ringing would subside, but it only got louder, and then the pain in my shoulder got worse.

"Tell me the password, now!"

I tried to block his voice out, knowing I wouldn't give him what he wanted.

"So it's gonna be like that, is it?"

The shot was still loud and clear, sending my whole body into an aching, burning pain. I couldn't breathe, I felt like my lungs were shrinking and oxygen was disappearing.

"Hey, I'm gonna get you out of h– Y/N?!"

I shook my head frantically, tears pooling in the corner of my eyes. "You're not real... you're not real..."

"Y/N, hey, look at me."

I squeezed my eyes tighter, hoping her voice would go away. "Y-you're not real..."

I felt a hand rest on my shoulder and opened my eyes. Through my blurry vision, I could see Daisy kneeling in front of me, watching me with concern.

"I'm real, I'm right here," she said gently, eyes never leaving mine. "You're okay."

"You're not– you're– you're not here–"

"Focus on me, Y/N," she urged, before resting both hands on my arms. "You feel that? That's real. I'm real. I'm here."

The pounding in my ears subsided when I felt my insides jolt a little. Whatever Daisy was doing, I could feel my insides shaking, just a little, but enough for me to know it was real. That I wasn't still being held prisoner nor hallucinating.

My breathing calmed down as I blinked the tears away, able to see Daisy looking between my eyes with worry. I sucked up a deep breath and looked around, realising I was curled up on the kitchen floor, back to the cupboard. I could see the fear in my mum's expression by the sink as she watched over Daisy and I, and I could see the pan still on the floor where she'd dropped it.

"I'm sorry," I finally said something, eyebrows furrowing as I looked down to my shaking hands. "I'm so sorry."

"You don't need to apologise," Daisy said quickly, before holding out her hand. "It was a panic attack, it happens. But you're okay."

I swallowed the lump in my throat and avoided her eyes. Accepting her hand, I let her pull me up and I barely glanced to my mum.

"Honey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," she said apologetically, stepping forward and pulling me in for a careful hug.

"It's not your fault," I tried to reassure her. "It was nothing."

"That wasn't nothing," she said, cupping my cheek with uncertainty. "Is it–"

"I don't wanna talk about it," I cut her off, still shaken up but not wanting to worry her anymore than I had. "I'm okay. I promise."

"How about we take a seat or something?" Daisy spoke up hesitantly, before looking to my mum. "Tea could help."

"I don't need to sit down or have t–"

"Tea, got it," my mum cut me off, making me roll my eyes. "Go sit inside with Daisy, Y/N."

I looked to Daisy who offered a small, reassuring smile. I breathed out, too tired to argue, and followed her into the living room to sit on the couch. She sat beside me and kicked her shoes off before pulling her legs onto the couch and facing me. I rolled my eyes and looked the other way. She was still watching me though.

"You gonna keep staring?" I asked sarcastically.

"Depends," she shrugged, "you gonna keep pretending you're okay when you're not?"

I finally looked to her and narrowed my eyes. "That's not your place."

Her expression softened as she lost any signs of playfulness. "Y/N, what happened back there? I've seen it before. With other agents. It's called–"

"I know what it's called," I interrupted, looking down to my lap.

"Then you know why you have it," she said softly. "I only want to help."

I stayed quiet, wiping away the wetness under my eyes from before.

"Has that happened to you before since you were, well, captured?"

I pursed my lips, using my nail to scratch at my jeans with distraction. I could feel her gaze on my profile, making me nervous.

"Y/N–"

I didn't mean to pull away when she reached out, it was a bad reflex is all. But I immediately regretted it when I saw the hurt flash across her expression.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," she apologised, moving away slightly. "It was the only thing I could think of back there. You kept saying I wasn't real and I– I thought I could help."

My eyes flickered between her hands and her face. "It's not that. Sorry, I'm just–" I sighed impatiently. "I see it sometimes, when I'm asleep. I have nightmares. And they feel so real."

She nodded to show she was listening. "Have you told your doctor?"

I shook my head. "I thought I had it under control. I thought I was okay, that it would go away."

"It doesn't just go away," she said regretfully. "It takes time. And you have to talk about it."

I shook my head quickly. "I can't. Not to my parents. I can't worry them anymore than I have. They don't deserve that."

"I'm not talking about them," Daisy said knowingly. "S.H.I.E.L.D. are paying for your hospital bills. They can pay for therapy, too."

I refrained from rolling my eyes. "Yeah, I tried to tell them that I can look after myself, but they didn't listen. I don't need their help."

"Y/N, you need to–"

"Can you just drop it? Please?" I cut her off. "I'm fine."

She pursed her lips as she nodded. Just on time, my mum walked in with a cup of tea and set it in front of me on the coffee table.

"How are you feeling?" she asked carefully.

I gave her a small smile. "I'm okay, mum, I promise."

She nodded. "That's good to hear... you know, I was thinking and well, don't they offer therapy for stuff like this? To help you, I mean?"

I sighed quietly, not wanting to repeat the same conversation again.

"Maybe your work can offer something, right? Or we can find someone for you?" she continued hopefully.

"S.H.I.E.L.D. can help," Daisy inputted, and I looked up to see her glancing at me hesitantly. "They have a plethora of resources available. Therapists who have helped many agents and who can help Y/N."

"And you can organise this for her?" my mum asked.

"Of course," Daisy said matter-of-factly.

"Did you hear that, Y/N? Daisy can help," my mum said as if I wasn't even in the room.

"I said I'm fine," I said quietly, trying to resist the urge to get angry.

"But she knows people," my mum continued. "They can help you. I know you haven't been sleeping."

"I said I'm fine!" I said, not meaning to raise my voice. I breathed out, looking between them both. "I don't need help. I'm not a child. You don't need to babysit me and my health. I'll be okay, okay?"

I didn't leave them much space to respond as I stood up and left, deciding to head straight to my room. It's not that I wasn't appreciative of them, but it was none of their business! And the last thing I needed was them treating me like I was incapable.

I could take care of myself.

[auroralightsthesky]

hi!!!! could you do eugene roe x pregnant! reader?

OMG HEEEEL YES!!! I will try my best at this since it's been a while since I've written anything for Roe but since you asked, your wish is the genie's command. 😍😍😍

It was one of those nights where you and Gene had decided to sleep with the windows open, the thick haze still hanging over the bayou and all the peepers chirping away as the afternoon began to turn to evening.

You lay in the bed that you and Gene both shared, another labor pain racking your body as you gripped his hand to lessen it. You knew Gene could handle it, but you still felt bad for almost ruining his knuckles.

"Oh God this hurts like a mother," you groaned.

"(y/n) I've seen loads worse down at the hospital," Gene chuckled. "This ain't nothin."

You laughed a little before the next wave hit, harder than before as it put your stomach in knots. Your fingers tightened their grip on Eugene's hand, both yours and his knuckles turning paper white. "Ok," he said. "I think it's time we got ya'll elsewhere for this."

"And Grandmere'?" you asked once you were finally able to take a breath.

"She's on her way," Gene assured you. "C'mon, let's get you settled."

With Gene's help, you hauled your way out of bed and into the bathroom, carefully stepping into the warm bath that took away most of the ungodly pain you were already in. No sooner had you gotten settled in the water than you heard Gene's grandmother entering the room.

"Well I'll be damned," she chuckled. "I didn't think it was going to be tonight but I suppose I was wrong. How's she doing Gene?"

"Better now that we've got her resettled," Gene replied.

"Alright," she said. "Guess now we can do what we've got to do."

*******

Minutes turned into hours with you holding onto Gene and him holding onto you. The next thing you knew, he was beside you in the water with your arms wrapped around his shoulders, trying to follow the words of his grandmother. One last push with all your might and you saw Gene's hands lifting your child, your son, right into your arms. With a gurgle and a loud cry, he woke to life, the spitting image of Gene, black hair and all.

"Oh Gene, he's perfect!" you said in between tears.

"Don't we know it," he half laughed as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, coiling his arms protectively around you both.

*******

When all was said and done, you and Gene both lay with your son between you in your bed with Gene's grandmother keeping careful vigil over you and the home. You still couldn't believe that the small infant that lay between the two of you was your son and that he at long last belonged to you. He was so perfect, so complete......and he completed the two of you.

"I can't believe he's ours," Gene yawned. "Months and months of tryin and he's finally here."

You smiled sleepily, your hands coming to rest on top of your son and your fingers lacing together as the three of you began to sleep peacefully, overjoyed that the family you had hoped for had at last begun to grow.

[peralta-guaranteed]

Idk if u already wrote or if there's something out there I've missed, but would totally love to read something from Victor's pov about Jake dating Amy. We all know Amy is daddy's little girl (I would dare to say Amy tries more to prove the amazing women she is to her mother rather than her father) and I think Victor gets to like Jake in spite of all the binder thing, like how he welcomes him into the family and talks to him at the hospital in Two Turkeys, is just so nice. Sure Jake is not what any Santiago would have expected and wanted for Amy but he knows with Jake his little girl is safe and loved in a way no one even with a 'perfect guy binder' would.

(this got long and rambly)

He’s no good. There’s a binder full of proof, and Victor is glad to show it to anyone who so much as mentions his daughter’s new boyfriend. (Even Camila, who’s on his side with this, seems bored of it by now.)

A childish, unprofessional, unreliable, chaotic mess of a person. He shouldn’t even be working on the same level as his daughter - he remembers her complaints and rants about him when she started at her new precinct well enough, trying to comfort her during their phonecalls when she was working hard to settle into her new role as a detective. Maybe he made a mistake then, urging her to be friendly with her new co-workers even while keeping a professional distance. He should’ve told her to focus on work itself, on getting her career goals done, rather than shmoozing with the others. Then she might’ve not befriended that bumbling buffoon of a boy.

-*-

She stayed friends with him even when she’d found someone far more suitable in that Tedford boy, and Victor could tell from the hesitation in her voice and her flickering eyes when she mentioned him during her visits home that there was something off about her, the way the name Jake came to her so much easier and with more joy than the name Teddy in all her stories.

Jake was in a lot of her stories.

Teddy was not.

-*-

He’s not good enough for her. Sure, she’s on his side in this fight - she’s defied her father for less things, and is not afraid to fight for her stance. He knows that well enough from her teenage years, and has been surprisingly proud about it later on, seeing the headstrong, confident woman they’d raised right.

But in this case, just this once, he wishes she could see his reasoning.

He’s not good enough for her. He won’t be able to support her in her ambitions, he won’t be the kind of person she needs to rely on if she wants to make it to captain while maintaining a good homelife like she’d written down in her lifeplan.

Yet she loves him. That’s what she said, in no uncertain times, when she invited her father down to visit and meet with Jake. She loves this boy, and there is a tone to the way she says it that Victor has never heard before. It scares him a little, to think about that tone while seeing this overgrown child bumble around next to her. It sounds so final. It sounds like forever.

-*-

He’s trying. He sticks close to Amy when they’re with her family, looks for her nod or a squeeze of his arm before starting into one of his stories. He’s learned a few phrases in Spanish, in the worst accent Victor has ever heard, but he’s learned them.

(Teddy had been taking Latin classes, instead. “It’s more useful for law proceedings”, Amy had said, and it had seemed logical, but he’d heard the sadness. As much as he’d heard the joy in her giggle when Jake whispered ‘mi amada’ to her when he thought they were alone in Camila’s kitchen.)

-*-

He needs to be better. Victor tries hard, in his arguments with Camila and his sons, who all seem to have fallen to the wrong side in that fight, to explain just what he means by that. Jake has no savings, no proper plans for the future, no interest in grown-up topics. It might do for a casual boyfriend, but it won’t do for the partner of a Santiago - for the partner of the most ambitious Santiago of them all, for his little conquering princess.

He needs to be better.

“Just wait and see.” Matteo says after another disgruntled rant over a shared bottle of beer. “He might surprise you yet. He’s managed that with all of us.”

-*-

He can be surprisingly quiet. That endlessly blabbing mouth (page 6 of tab 4 in his binder) is well and truly shut as they sit with Amy’s tio, frail and shaking in his beloved armchair on what they all know is one of their last visits.

He listens instead, nods fervently when Amy translates the old man’s advice to him - Victor wants to interject for a second to mention that tio Carlos’ tips about marriage life do not apply to them, but he turns just as quiet as Jake when he sees his daughter reach for his hand, as she translates the importance of ‘honestidad’ and ‘comodidad’. Turns even more quiet when he sees Jake turn to grab her hand, squeeze it a few times and smile at her tio.

He’s quiet again a month later, at the funeral, his hand holding Amy’s just as tight as she says goodbye, quiet as he pulls her into a half-hug to soften her sob when the casket disappears into the ground.

“Comodidad.” He whispers to her during the dinner after, and she smiles for the first time that day.

“Consuelo in this case, babe.”

“Sorry.”

“No, you’re getting better.”

-*-

He’s doing good. They’ve fought their way through a lot, through more things than Victor would‘ve ever wanted to put on his little girl, but they’ve fought through it. Together. 

A few pages of the binder have been amended. Some have been ripped out. Things are changing, and so is Jake. He’s growing.

He’s doing good.

-*-

He picks up the next time Victor calls for his weekly chat with his little girl.

“Hello, sir.” And his voice is nervous like it always is when speaking to him, but it’s also quiet, hushed. “Amy’s pretty sick, I don’t think she’s up for a phonecall. I finally got her down for a nap.”

“Amy rarely gets sick. Has she seen a doctor yet?”

“Rosa checked her, it’s just a really heavy cold. I got her medicine and those herbal bath salts and the good tea, so she’ll probably be up and running in a few days.”

“You’re taking good care of her, then.”

“I try, sir.”

“No.” Victor says as he eyes the binder on top of his office shelf, dusty and almost forgotten. “You don’t try. You do.”

-*-

He’s... gone.

A few weeks ago, he was making a mess while trying to help Camila in the kitchen, talking endlessly about the amazing new task force he and his colleague Diaz had gotten into. Grinning at Amy as she beamed with pride when Victor complimented him on that achievement in his career.

And now he was gone, locked away on the other end of the country.

Amy had spent the week after at theirs, crying into the pillows on her childhood bed, never alone as a rotation of brothers kept her company in silence. He’d driven her back home with reluctance, but she wanted to go back to work - back to the case, a binder dedicated to any and all options she could find already in her luggage.

Victor had to leave her behind with nothing but a long, comforting dad-hug. Leave her in that apartment full of him, in every corner, the way he’d made a home in every crevice of her heart too.

“I guess you’re happy now.” Benedict, their youngest - the rebel without a cause - scoffs at the quiet dinner later, two chairs empty.

“Why would you-” Victor wants to scold him, but Camila’s low voice interrupts him.

“Amelia will not leave him for this. Not for anything.”

“No.” Matteo nods.

“And she shouldn’t.” Victor adds as he stabs a potato maybe a bit too harshly. 15 years, he thinks. More than three times of what they’d had together, before. But it makes no difference - 5 days, 5 years, or 15 - Amy wouldn’t care. “He’s more than good enough to wait for.”

-*-

Victor replays the voicemail on his cellphone for the sixth time that evening, as Camily next to him sighs, trying to get him to finally settle down into bed.

I'm calling to inform you that I plan to ask your daughter to marry me, but since it's 2017, I am not asking you for your permission...

Jake still sounds as scared as he always does talking to him, but there’s something else too. Something he’s heard a lot in his voice before, when he was talking to Amy, mostly. Something he’s heard from her, too, since the beginning. Since “I love him, dad. I really do”.

She's a strong independent woman, and she don't need no man. That being said, I truly hope she says yes.

“I’m as excited as you are, cariño.” Camila sighs again. “But we will get the news as soon as it happens, so please go to sleep now.”

“He’s a good man.” Victor says as he finally puts his phone on the bedside table, next to the finished crossword.

“Yes, mi amor. You’ve said that before.”

“He’ll be a good husband.”

[billiedeanhwrd]

when i fell you were there, with your hands in the air

cordelia goode x fem!reader

summary: your depression is hitting you harder than most days, cordelia comforts you 🤍

warnings: depression, slight mention of childhood trauma, it's angsty mental health fluff basically

word count: 1.7k

a/n: this is my first ever fanfic and i'm very very nervous about it, so pls don't be too harsh, constructive criticism is very much welcome though!! also i'm sorry about any grammar mistakes, english is not my first language. i also have to add that this was very much self indulgent and based on my own experience with depression, so if you don't relate, that's fine, everyone experiences it differently. I hope you enjoy it tho, have fun reading <3

today was one of those days again. one of those days where everything seemed grey and pointless. one of those days where taking a shower was too exhausting. one of those days where it didn't matter if you left your clothes on the floor or a pile of dirty dishes in the sink. one of those days where you isolated yourself. one of those days that seemed to return to you every morning for almost 3 weeks now.

you had been struggling with depression for years now and attending therapy regularly still didn't take away from the embarrassment you felt about your illness. cordelia didn't know, you didn't want to burden her with your subjectively "silly" problems. It wasn't easy hiding something so life consuming from your lover, but whenever you were with her you felt as though you could reach for the stars and there was no point in ruining happy moments with sad stories.

Whenever you felt really depressed and unable to function, you isolated yourself. Cordelia and you had been together for 7 months now and the first time she thought she had done something wrong which had resulted in you needing space from her, but when she confronted you, you reassured her that sometimes you needed some time to yourself because you were a more introverted person. While that might be true, you wanted nothing more than for her to take you into her arms and tell you everything was going to be okay again, but the fear of possibly burdening the already very busy supreme held you back from confessing what was weighing you down.

you were used to this already, you always kept your darkness to yourself, too afraid of being too much or being abandoned by your loved ones, while the rational side of you knew that the people in your life who truly meant something to you would never abandon you because of your chronic depression, anxiety left no room for rationality.

you were always feeling kind of down, but some days it was easier to cope and enjoy your day despite that... and then there were those phases where you felt unusually down, those phases that caused you to isolate yourself and wait for the storm to pass in solitude. They usually lasted only a few days or maximum a week, but this one had been going on for much longer. cordelia was worried, you had never needed so much "alone time to recharge your social battery", but she didn't want to overstep your boundaries and possibly push you away, because what you weren't aware of was that cordelia too struggled with abandonment issues and fearing she would be "too much" (which she could never be for you, you adored every single second you could spend in the blonde witch's presence).

After leaving multiple text messages and trying to call you, only to be greeted by your voicemail, cordelia took it upon herself to see what was going on with you. The knocking on your door would've usually startled you, but you had just ordered a pizza, too tired to prepare a meal yourself and assumed the delivery was faster than they had stated on their website. your jaw fell open and the door was quickly closed again, shit shit shit, what am i supposed to do now? the place looks like a mess, i can't let cordelia se-

"y/n can you open the door please?" she asked in her gentle voice. "Uh, yeah, give me a second" you replied, hastily throwing on a hoodie that had been lying around on your couch, coincidentally that hoodie being one you stole from cordelia a few weeks ago, something that made your girlfriend's heart warm up a little and relieve her of some of the worried thoughts she had that this might be your way of signaling to her that you no longer wished to be in a relationship with her.

"can we talk? i haven't seen you in three weeks and you haven't answered any of my texts... what's going on? you know you can talk to me about anything..."

"uhm, yes, of course. sit down, make yourself at home, would you like anything to drink?"

"no, thank you, i just want to talk to you"

you didn't have the energy to lie to the woman who held your heart in her hands anymore, you were terrified of her reaction, not only to you being mentally ill but also to you hiding it for so long.

"i'm so sorry delia, please don't be mad", you anxiously stuttered out. cordelia grabbed your hand and smiled reassuringly, signaling for you to continue talking.

"I didn't tell you before because i know you've already got so much going on with the academy and i didn't want to pile onto that with my irrelevant issues... I was diagnosed with depression amongst other things a few years ago, it's something i have to deal with every day and some days are easier than others, but sometimes it all comes crashing down on me and i feel like i'm lost in an ocean of a sadness so powerful, i can feel the pain on my body. I know it can be challenging to be close to someone with severe mental issues and I understand if you don't want to continue being with me, i would never want you to stay with me because you pity me or because you're afraid i'd do something to myself if you'd left, you're not responsible for my feelings or actions and i would never want to impose you with such a burden and-"

you stopped rambling when you noticed the tears flowing down cordelia's cheeks.

your eyes widened and your heart started pounding rapidly in your chest. "i'm sorry, was that too much?"

"no, no, no, no, no... it just pains me to know that you've been dealing with this on your own for such a long time because you don't value yourself enough to believe that other people might want to support you through your everyday battles. y/n, i know you, you're the girl who's always there when someone else needs a shoulder to cry on, anytime, anyplace, you always go out of your way to make others feel seen and accepted, why would you ever think that you don't deserve the kindness you so openly give to others?"

now it was you who was crying, cordelia was right, you didn't value yourself enough to believe that. you didn't actively think of yourself as less than others but that thought always unconsciously motivated the way you dealt with the things that were bothering you.

cordelia patted her lap, signaling for you to sit on her lap and come into her arms. you hesitated though, you weren't used to being so vulnerable and open with your emotions and it scared the shit out of you. you feared cordelia was possibly annoyed at you and was only doing this to get it over with and then get out. she watched you, while you were anxiously deciding what your next move would be, her heart broke for you, you looked like a scared baby dear when all she wanted to do was to comfort you.

"baby, look at me"

her chocolate colored eyes were so full of love, simply looking into them managed to get your heart rate down.

"it's okay, i'm not mad at you for talking about your feelings and all i want to do right now is to hug some of your pain away, so please, let me hold you"

you melted at her gentle words and understanding nature, cordelia was an incredibly smart woman, who went through traumatic things herself and even from that little information you shared, she understood you. she saw her younger self in you, so incredibly lonely but oh, so scared of being vulnerable with another person, due to the emotional abuse her mother subjected her to, and while she might not have gone through the same things you did, she felt like she understood your feelings in this exact moment and she wanted nothing more than to make you feel safe with her.

you slowly crawled into her lap, still afraid this was all a trick to hurt you, but when she started combing through your hair and reassuringly whispering "i've got you" and "you're here with me, i promise you, you're safe", you relaxed into her arms.

after about half an hour of laying there with each other, calming down and enjoying the other one's warmth, you spoke up.

"delia?"

"yes, my love?"

"so you're not leaving me?", you hesitantly asked.

cordelia sat up and looked straight in your eyes while asking "would you leave someone you love because they're depressed?"

"no, never"

"then tell me, sweetheart, why would i leave you?"

her response left you speechless, you almost missed her confessing her love. "you love me?"

she hugged you tight and pressed a kiss on your forehead. "more than anything, and please, never worry about telling me about what's going on in that pretty little head of yours, no matter what it is, i wanna know, okay?"

you let out the breath you didn't know you were holding and confidently replied "okay"

a few minutes passed before you spoke up again when you remembered you didn't say those 3 special words back.

"i love you too, by the way"

cordelia smiled lovingly and stood up to reach out for your hand and pull you up. "i know, now let's go to bed, we can clean up this place tomorrow"

you accepted her helping hand and engulfed her in a hug. the way she so naturally used the word "we" and didn't seem to mind helping you clean up your mess of an apartment made you more emotional than you'd like to admit.

And while you knew this would not be the last time you were overwhelmed by your depression, you now knew that you could count on the woman who loved you to stand by your side and help you get through even your hardest day.

[tinyboxxtink]

"Black Magic" *Part 8*

Shit I have ZERO will power.

But I really did feel bad for that last chapter being so shitty small, AND I just came up with a chunk of story that will push this past 10 chapters. *GASP*

So I don't mind it being up, as it's not the second to last chapter now. Huzzah!

Note: This is an entire chapter of just Olivia and Barba. I know, right? But-- you're included, somehow. 😉

Tag List:

@bookishfanfic

@stars-in-the-skies-world

@omgsuperstarg

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@gibbs274

@milkshqke

@wanniiieeee

@word-scribbless

@objection-argumentative

@aprildecker-blog

@lolliepopsicle

@madamsnape921

@stars-trash-18

@sassyada

Part 9

Part 7

--------

The next day was Saturday, so Rafael took the day to introduce his fiancée to his "familia". However their reaction was not what he expected. His mom and abuela were thrilled. They knew the back and forth Rafael and Olivia had at the beginning of their friendship, and they wanted to see him married to a successful woman. However when he brought her to Maria, she was less than pleased.

"I...I don't understand, who is this?" She asked.

“Maria I told you, this is my fiancé Olivia Benson” Rafael pushed Olivia forward.

“Pleased to meet you ma’am,” Oliva smiled and extended her hand. Instead of shaking her hand, Maria took him to the side away from Olivia's prying ears.

“But what happened to that nice girl you brought here last week?” She asked him with concern in her eyes.

“….What?" Rafael looked at her in confusion.

“Y/N?” She said your name, and Rafael’s face went red with anger.

“Excuse me?!” He hissed; Olivia glanced over at the two of them, getting wary of their conversation.

“Last week, you brought here to get empanadas for a fun day. You seemed so in love with her Raffi, you said you would keep her for a long time.” Maria told him with a gentle voice.

“You were so happy, I don't think I've ever seen you that happy. Especially not with this cabrona,” She narrowed her eyes at Liv.

“Maria I think you're confused. I am very much in love with Olivia, I would chase the moon and stars for her.” Rafael said in an almost melodramatic way.

“Who talks like that?” Maria laughed.

“What?” Rafael asked, offended.

“….No something is off with you Raffi,” Maria studied his face intently, looking for something.

“Maria I love you, but you are getting up there. Your mind isn't as good as you think it is,” Rafael half laughed, writing her off as a batty old lady with her accusations.

She slapped him across the face.

“How dare you burro. I know you better than your own mami, you know that. And I know what I saw, I don't know what happened to you but this-- she gestured to his whole body. This isn't you.” She grabbed his face in her hands and shook him as if she was trying to shake whatever was wrong with him right out of his body.

“What happened to Y/N, Raffi? Just tell me--” Maria asked softly, but Rafael cut her off with a fit of rage.

“She’s GONE, Maria. I fired her, I sent her away,”

“...But why?” Maria now stared at Olivia, who was getting very uncomfortable at the mention of your name. Maria knew about you? Rafael had brought you here? On your FIRST date? She had never even heard about this familia until today. Were you actually right about knowing things about him so quickly?

“Because she’s a psychopath who has some obsession with me!” He yelled.

“Really? Because you seemed pretty obsessed with her, the last time you were here,” Maria gave him a look.

“Maria I have no idea what you’re talking about, I really don’t,” He shook his head.

“Three days ago, Raffi. Do you remember three days ago?”

Rafael stared at her blankly, then his eyes began to dart back and forth while he desperately tried to recall that day. But-- he couldn’t. Why couldn’t he remember three days ago? In fact, why couldn’t he remember yesterday? Or the day before? All he could think of was today, and how in love with Olivia he was. That-- that wasn’t normal, right? His head began to ache, he winced and doubled over in pain. As he squinted, trying to steady himself, he looked across the street, where an image of you and him flashed in front of him.

He quickly caught up to you and cut you off from walking. You desperately tried to compose yourself before he saw your face, but you failed miserably.

“…Why are you so upset, mi vida?” He cupped your face with serious concern in his eyes. “Are you alright? Did I say something wrong?”

“No!” You grabbed both of his hands. “No, Rafa you are– You are perfect,” You bit your lip, willing yourself to not start crying again.

“Ay no,” He shook his head with a laugh. “I am FAR from perfect, carino,”

You cupped his hand in your face, looking into his eyes very seriously. “You are to me,”

He looked back at you, with the same intense eyes. "So are you,”

Rafael blinked several times, tears coming to his eyes as he recalled how happy he was in that moment. Before he could say or do anything, Olivia came running up to him and throwing her arms around him.

“Oh my god, Rafa! Are you okay?” She immediately helped stand upright and kissed him roughly, her lips wet with purple liquid. Rafael’s eyes radiated purple, the image of you and him instantly disappeared from his memory. He smiled in an almost robotic fashion as he held Olivia in his arms. “Never better, mi amor,” He kissed her again, then turned to Maria.

“Look, Maria,” Rafael said very sternly. “I love Olivia and anyone who doesn't approve of her, I don't want in my life.”

“Excuse me?” Maria stared at him, dumbfounded.

“You heard me,” He growled. “If you can't accept Olivia then stay the hell out of my life!”

“Raffi!!! How can you ..how can you say that to me?” She asked him fearfully. Suddenly, she noticed Raffi's beautiful green eyes were flashing a deep dark purple. She furrowed her brows and stormed over to Olivia.

“Bruja!!” She yelled. What did you do to my Rafi, you witch?”

“Excuse me?” Olivia stumbled back in shock. How...how did she know?

“Maria!!!!! Rafael stepped in between them. “How dare you speak to my fiancé that way? You know what, don't come to my wedding. In fact, don't come anywhere near me at all. Ever,” He shoved the old woman aside.

Olivia was absolutely stunned. She had never seen him so aggressive before. And over her no less. She knew this was the work of her elixir. She felt a pang of guilt, watching the poor old woman's eyes brimming with tears. That was until she glared at Olivia once again.

"This isn't over, bruja" she grunted, waving a fist at her.

“We’re leaving,” Rafael grabbed Olivia's hand and dragged her down the street as he called an Uber.

“Rafa...didn't you say that woman basically raised you?” She asked, still stunned from the events that just unfolded in front of her.

“I don't care,” he huffed.” Anyone against you is against me,”

Olivia looked into his eyes, they were usually so green and sparkling. She finally noticed that they were now a glowing bright shade of purple.

Was this what you had been talking about? Was this...person, even Rafael anymore? Her Rafael?

“Rafa…” She asked nervously.

“Yes, amante?” He grinned at her, in an almost inhuman way. This was insane. Okay so maybe she had overdone it with the serum. Maybe just a tad. But, if he was so…”mind warped” at the moment, how far could she control it?

“...Rafa, take me to the places you took Y/N the other day,” She simply stated as if she was giving robot instructions. And just like a good little robot, BarbaBot imputed the address of Central Park into the Uber app.

They got out and Rafael looked at Olivia with a loving gaze, his eyes still bright purple.

“I want to show you my favorite place in the city, but first we need somewhere to eat all this food,” He repeated the words he said to you that day, his eyes still glowing purple.

“...We don’t have any--” Olivia started to protest, but then she realized that he was obeying her wishes. He was doing everything the exact same from the last time he had been there-- with you.

“Um-- Okay,” She nodded with a fake smile, her anger rising. This was quickly backfiring on her.

Rafael took her hand and they walked further and further into the park until they reached the fountain. Then he sat down on the fountain and motioned for her to sit with him. She obeyed, and he just kept smiling at her with the “Uncanny Valley” smile.

“So you, you took her here. To your favorite spot in the city?” She glanced around. It wasn’t so special, just a fountain. What was she so jealous of?

“Oh no mi amor, this is just where we’re going to eat. The surprise is after,” He smiled dreamily at her. But this time she couldn’t tell if he was actually smiling at HER, or remembering the image of you in that spot that day.

“Um-- okay, we’re done eating now!” Olivia said in an unnerving tone, pretending to throw trash away.

““Well!” he wiped “tears” away from his face and then Olivia’s before he gathered up “trash” and threw it away.

“I think that’s quite enough of the melodramatic stories today. Now it’s time to show you my favorite place,”

“Wait, what?” Olivia stopped him from walking.

“What is it, mi amor?”

“What did you just say? What ‘melodramatic story’ did you tell her?” She searched his eyes, but they were only filled with a dazed look of love.

“I….” He started to blink furiously, looking down. What the hell was happening? Was he-- he was fighting himself not to tell her. He was FIGHTING HIMSELF to keep something from her. Something he shared with you.

“RAFAEL,” She grabbed him and looked him in his eyes. “Tell me the story you told Y/N, right now,” She ordered him.

“I can’t,” He simply stated, no emotion in his voice.

“Why not?!” She stomped her foot.

“I don’t feel safe enough with you,” He stated in a basic monotone voice.

“But you felt safe with her? A girl you’ve known for THREE months?” Olivia’s eyes were now filled with angry tears.

“It’s about your dad, isn’t it?” She whispered, her voice shaking. Well, if she couldn’t get him to tell her, maybe you could.

“Oh, Rafa,” She did an impression of your voice. “We’re so connected, and-- I feel so safe with you,” She rolled her eyes.

“Y/N,” He didn’t even look at Olivia, he was just staring ahead with the same dazed loving look in his eyes. Olivia was filled with rage, but continued.

“Tell me about your middle name, Rafa,” She said in ‘your’ voice.

“....No you don’t understand. My middle name is Eduardo, named after him. So he’s always with me.” He began to recite the speech he had given you as if he was reading off cue cards. “I have always told people it’s Antonio, because I want nothing about me associated with him,” He started to cry, Olivia just stared at him in shock.

After a minute, he stopped crying and looked into Liv’s eyes, unbeknownst to her seeing your face on hers. “I’ve never told anyone that story.”

“...Not even Liv?” She asked, knowing the answer.

"Not even Liv,” He stroked her hair. “I’ve never felt as close to her as I do with you.” He pulled Liv into his lap. “The truth is Y/N I have never felt safe since my abuela’s house. Until I met you,”

Olivia jumped up from his lap, now absolutely enraged, hurt, and unhinged.

“That is BULLSHIT Rafael!!!!” She screamed at him. “I have given you everything, all of me! I’ve told you things, things I thought we shared. And you...you fall in love with some random intern?”

Wait, she thought. This was all on a day that he was under YOUR spell. This was just him rebooting to the last saved point, recovering memories deep inside him like a computer. This wasn’t real either. All she had to do was reboot him, so that he’d completely forget those memories with you. All she needed to do was draw out the rest of your day together so they were fresh in the front of his mind, and then she’d feed him a special dose of her “medicine”, wiping them away. Forever.

“Rafa, let’s see your favorite place,” She said in a “you-like” voice. He smiled and took her hand, leading her down into the caves.

“Penguins?” She asked, unamused.

“I love penguins,” He smiled.

“Right...me too,” She said in a fake happy voice, rolling her eyes.

Rafael turned and stared at her with the biggest smile, your face still in his eyes.

“Did you know that when a male penguin fancies a girl penguin he will look everywhere until he finds the perfect rock or pebble as an offering to said female. And if she accepts it, then they’re together until they die.”

“...What?” Olivia was now shocked once again. “Were you...were you going to PROPOSE to her?!”

“I’m not proposing carino, I’m not that crazy,” He chuckled, still thinking it was the other day.

“Well thank god--” Olivia shook her head and had an idea. If she put the two memories together….he’d think he brought her there, and that’s when he proposed!

“Oh but Rafa, don’t you remember darling? This is where you proposed, that’s what we’re doing, right now,” She pulled the ring from her finger and handed it to him, shaking him out of his trance.

“Wha-- Oh, carino,” He now looked at Liv with the same lovesick expression, less robotic.

“Be my penguin?” He held out the ring like a trained monkey.

“Yeah sure, whatever,” She smiled and grabbed the ring, pulling him into a kiss.

Now that memory had been replaced-- pretty soon she’d have you replaced completely.

[giorno-plays-piano]

Treasure hunt Part 3

Pairing: dragon!Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, kidnapping, Stockholm Syndrome, forced pregnancy.

Words: 1884.

Summary: No knight would dare to save a sacrificial bride of the dragon.

Part 1

Part 2

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"Don't you dare hurt her!" The boy's desperate voice cut through the heavy silence, and Steve saw his long scaled tail with a razor-edged tip just like his own. "Step away, or I will burn you to ashes!"

Steve's son had his face, child's light blue eyes burning with hatred and pure savagery at the sight of his father, the one who had been chasing him before he was even born. The boy had his golden hair, too, shining in the sun. Everything in his look reminded Steve of himself when he was younger, but he could see your features in the boy's face, and the way he moved, talked and thought was yours, undoubtedly.

"You are my flesh and blood." The man whispered, amazed, confused. "Your fire can't hurt me."

His son sent him a triumphant smile, baring his sharp teeth, and reached out to his pocket to grab an odd small bottle. Oh, Steve didn't like it.

"We'll see about that."

Once the boy opened the bottle, Steve felt a repulsive scent filling his nostrils. It was the goddamn pyrite potion. Once consumed, it would give his son the power to burn both Heaven and Hell. Gods, how did he learn about the potion? Where did he find it? What did he give in return?

"Run." Your weak voice made the boy look at you with both fear and sadness, but then Steve saw determination in his face. "I'll hold him! RUN!"

Your grip on his shoulder became harder, but both of you knew no one could detain Steve here longer - except for his son and the pyrite potion in his clawed hands. His little child was only ten by now, yet he had eyes of a grown man, tired, anxious, desperate. He was well prepared to fight for you, the mother that kept him hidden when Steve roamed the earth, searching for you two for more than a decade.

The deep hatred in his child's eyes made the man shook.

"You can burn half of your face with that." The dragon said, pointing to the little bottle carefully with his human finger.

"If it means the world will get rid of you, I'm ready to burn myself, too."

_______________

Steve woke up with you hovering above him and shaking him by the shoulders in distress. His face was wet - apparently, he had been crying in his sleep, horrified by the pure nightmare he saw, the image of his son drinking the pyrite potion in front of him forever captured in his memory. Looking at your face pale with worry, the dragon wept and snuggled against your round belly. It was all a dream. It did not happen. Yet.

He let out a loud cry and kept his eyes shut while you were caressing his soft hair, afraid to  ask for an explanation as he was shaking against your body. You didn't understand what was happening to him, but he felt too weak to talk.

His own son was ready to kill himself if it meant Steve would stop following him and his mother. His dear little child became so hateful and bitter he wanted nothing else than to see his father's death.

What had Steve done? How much did he hurt his boy and you to make the both of you hate him to such extent?

He couldn't bear to think of it.

"It is alright." You cooed lovingly and pressed his blond head to your bulging belly. "It is alright, dear. You're safe. I'm here with you."

Steve felt deeply disgusted at himself, listening to your lovely voice: he was the one whose rile was to keep you safe and sound, and yet he abused you instead, locking you inside his cave, making you do what you were told, forcing you to bear his child. He believed you grew to love him, but was it true? What choice did you have rather than submitting to him?

He had been blind, thinking he could make you love him. Love couldn't be forced. He had to earn it.

"I'm sorry." He uttered, afraid to look at you and keeping his eyes shut. "I'm sorry!"

You froze on the spot, unsure of what you just heard. Did he apologize? Why? For what? What did he had to do to apologize for it? You couldn't remember the last time he said sorry to you, regardless of what he did. He thought he had always been right, always. To think of it, he hadn't been too cruel to you, but you had never pushed him to. As soon as you realized his power was absolute, you gave up, not willing to risk it. Your first attempt to flee failed because of the dragon fruit you'd eaten the day you met Steve, and all other attempts were worthless as you couldn't leave the cave without his permission. What else could you do? No magic treasure of his was able to kill him, his scales and ancient dragon charms protecting him fully.

You had to live with it. Thankfully, Steve had treated you kindly once you stopped rebuffing him, even taking you outside with him when he deemed it useful to keep you healthy and content.

What was he saying sorry for, though? You didn't believe he had finally felt remorse after many months of keeping you with him.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sor..." He kept whispering feverishly until you bended over and kissed the top of his head, concerned with his state. "What have I done? What have I done?"

You didn't know what dark thoughts he harboured, but you were frightened. You had never seen him like that. You wished you knew what he was thinking.

"It's alright, darling. You're going to get better."

"No, no!" He cried softly, kissing your belly over and over again. "It's all my fault. If it's going to happen, it's all my fault."

Ah, he probably saw something terrible in his sleep. That was it, you thought. Of course, what else did you expect from Steve? He wasn't human. You doubted he knew what it was like to be trapped against your will, even if you had feelings for him. He had never obeyed anyone and lived free as a jaybird. Steve was the one and only King who ruled over these lands, what could he know about your fears and pain?

"It wasn't right. What I've done... it wasn't right. I'm sorry, my love, I'm sorry, for I have hurt you."

Your eyes flew open at his words when you stared at his soft golden hair, running your hand over his lovely locks. Gods, what did he see in that nightmare of his? What had forced these words out of his mouth?

"I should have never made you to stay against your will..." Steve's cries had finally ceased and he lifted his head, his face red and puffy, blue eyes glowing in the dark. "I have been blind. I... I give you my word, I will not make you stay here any longer."

"W-what are you saying, Steve?"

Would he let you go? Would he let you return back to people instead of locking you in his dungeon? For the moment you forgot how to breath, watching the dragon with both fear and an odd excitement.

"You said you were travelling before the villagers took you away, didn't you?" He sounded calmer, but his heated gaze showed he was still agitated as his palms gently brushed against your belly. "Do you want to travel again? Do you want to see the world?"

"Yes!" Your answer was immediate, your eyes sparkling with happiness - he hadn't seen you so joyful for a long time.

"Then we will leave tomorrow morning." He whispered and moved up, sitting close to you on your spacious bed high above the ground, furs and blankets all over the bedsheets. "I will take you to the East to show you the most attractable secrets of the Orient. Or would you like to fly up to the South to see the Great Ocean? The Sacred Mountains of the Northen island? Would you want to see the waterfalls of the Acient?"

"Yes! I want to see them all!" Tears of joy filled your eyes, and Steve smiled at you, cupping your face with his hot hands. "Let's do it, my love! Let's leave this place for good!"

Then he leaned forward to you and left a tender kiss on your forehead, brushing away your hair. You looked so cheerful, contented, extremely pleased with him like never before. It was so easy to make you happy, yet he had always thought you were happy enough with him in that cave of his, stuffed with all those things you cared little for. Why was he so stuborn? Why had he forgotten what his own mother had taught him when he was a boy? He had forgotten what the true kindness meant.

"'Tomorrow morning we will leave." The dragon assured you, leaving little kisses on your face here and there, his eyes welling up. "Don't worry, you won't have to ride me as you did when I brought you here, I will make you... a rickshaw! A cart of some kind where you'll be safe and sound."

Amazed at his enthusiasm, you burst out laughing and shook your head, wiping away your tears with the back of your hand. You didn't know what he saw in his dream, but you were ready to keep thanking the gods for eternity for sending the dragon this nightmare. You were free to leave. You could see the world as you had always dreamed, a dragon at your side to protect you and the child growing fast in your belly. You couldn't pretend you wanted to abandon your own child and the man who, aside from keeping you captive, loved you like no one else did. If only Steve was more perceptive of what he was doing, realizing he might be wrong instead of claiming he always knew what was better for your and the child...

But maybe you had a chance to make him understand now. Maybe from now on everything would be different.

"We need to sleep, sweetheart." Steve whispered gently, helping you to lay down on the side - your big belly didn't let you to sleep on your back. "We'll have a lot to do tomorrow."

"Yes." You answered and snuggled closer to him, his breath tickling the top of your head. "Yes, my love. Sweet dreams."

"Sweet dreams."

Watching you close to him, Steve let out a loud breath, finally calming down. Yes, it was right. He needed to take you away from this place. He needed to give you the life you always wanted and make you happy so you would never leave his side. He needed to raise his child with affection and care, watching him grow as a boy loved deeply by his parents, not a little fugitive with a heart full of hatred and desire to kill. The boy didn't deserve a future like this. No one did.

"I will never let it happen." The dragon whispered after making sure you fell asleep. "The stars of heaven shall fall, but I will never make you suffer this fate."

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