#i lacked the jimmy angst | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

trippinsorrows · 3 months ago

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looking through your eyes + sixteen

authors note: healing is not linear. regression, sadly, is a part of the process. and ultimately, if someone wants to hurt themselves, they will find a way to do so.

*this chapter contains extremely triggering content. please ensure to read all content/trigger warnings to make an informed decision regarding your mental state and ability to consume the following work of fiction. your mental wellbeing is forever and always more important than any story.*

cw/tw: heavy angst, violence, torture, ptsd episode, victim blaming, reference to childhood sexual assault, thoughts and urges of self-harm, suicide attempt

gentle reminder that you can call or text the free, confidential 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline at 988 anytime, 24/7.

song inspo: ‘looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes

masterlist

words: 8k

“I–I just want to see him. Please—”

It’s got to be the third or even fourth time she’s tried to ask, pleading with her husband’s Wise Man to let her see her husband.

It was hard enough to get Solo to agree to take her to where Roman is, a medical clinic that’s clearly only open to tend to him and any other Bloodline member injured in the shootout. That’s evident by the lack of anyone present outside of an impressive number of Bloodline security.

An uninjured Bayley and Naomi met her at the house shortly after she arrived with Solo, and while she was pleased to see they were okay, to hear that Jimmy and Jey also made it out uninjured, the man she cares about the most is ironically the man she seems incapable of checking on.

She can’t find a way to settle her anxiety, continuing to play the scene of him shot, outside of her head.

That’s why she needs to see him.

She has to see him.

Paul sighs, and there’s irritation evident both in his tone and facial expression. “Solana, I don’t think—hey!”

Fuck it.

He’s silenced by Solana rushing past him, nearly knocking him over in the process. Eyes wide with shock, he stammers, looking just as bewildered as the security guards around him. “Well, don’t just stand there, stop her!”

The men rush to run after her, Solana well aware of the fact that the likelihood of her outrunning them is slim to none.

Doesn't mean she can’t try.

It’s a silly thought though because of course security would be up and down every hall of the clinic, sets of hardened eyes falling on her, ready to attack when they realize who she is. It changes the dynamic a bit. Expressions still stoic and lethal but also confused.

Solana freezes only for a bit as she forces out her request, a poorly delivered demand, really to the guards that line the hall that she suspects house the room Roman is being treated in.

“I need to see my husband.” No one says anything, two of them sharing an expression as Solana decides to try her luck again, knowing that they wouldn’t actually shoot her, trying to sprint past them.

She’s unlucky this time though because one of the guards catches her, restraining her. This makes her tense up almost immediately, fear rising up yet again for the thousandth time tonight.

“Let go of me!” Solana tries to wiggle her way out of the iron grasp, eager and almost needing to get these strange male hands off of her, such a stark contrast to the comfort and safety she feels when it’s Roman who has his hands on her. “I need to see Roman! Please!”

The man holding her and probably pulling her away from the direction of Roman’s room says nothing, just continues to ignore her demands to be released.

“Man, what the hell you doing!”

Solana’s head snaps to the side as she lays eyes on an enraged Jimmy who stalks over, his mere presence and tone causing the man to release her. Solana gasps a bit as Jimmy grabs the man by his collar and slams him against the wall. “Don’t you ever put your fucking hands on her again! You lucky it’s me here and not Roman cause he’d already have a bullet in your head for touching his wife!”

Jimmy looks around, shouting, “that goes to all of ya’ll asses!” He points to Solana. “She asks for Roman, you take her to fucking Roman, alright?”

Bowed heads of shame and a sudden focus on the laminate flooring of the clinic, Solana is relieved when Jimmy walks over, voice calmer, motioning her to follow him. “Come on, Soso.”

Solana wants to ask Jimmy if he’s okay, inquire about Jey, make sure that they’re okay. Bayley and Naomi already told her as such, but they don’t know that. It’s just what’s most polite and appropriate, but all she can think about is Roman and laying eyes on him.

She needs to see him.

And as awful as it may sound, she cares more about making sure her husband is okay before anyone else.

Caught up in her thoughts, she misses when Jimmy knocks on a door in a rhythmic pattern, followed by Jey cracking the door open.

Jimmy sucks his teeth. “Man, open the door. It’s Soso.”

Solana, however, has no desire to wait any longer and finds herself, pushing on the door, forcing Jey to stumble back. “Damn, girl!”

She’s not listening though, uninterested in apologizing because she’s focused on something else.

Focused on someone else.

An older man with blonde hair pulled back, dressed way too casually to be a medical professional seems to be finishing up bandaging her husband who stands only feet away, shirtless, revealing the shoulder tourniquet that conceals the wound. The place where he was hurt.

Where he was shot.

Emotion renews, and a new set of tears reload as she finds herself moving over to him, pressing her body into his, doing her best to avoid touching his left shoulder. Her eyes shut, tears spilling over when she feels Roman’s hand on the small of her back.

“Get out.” It’s directed to the twins and who Solana would guess is the doctor who treated his wound, that last thing being what causes her to pull away, to look over at the stranger.

“No. You—you have to help him—”

The man chuckles and removes the blue latex gloves from his hands. “Lil lady, that’s a job only the big Man Himself can handle.” She frowns a bit as the man with striking blue eyes and an almost country accent explains, “He’ll be fine. Bullet went straight through. Didn't hit any bones, artery, or organs. If he takes it easy for a couple weeks, he'll be good as new. That’s assuming, however, he actually follows the doctor’s orders for once.”

It’s that last sentence that makes Solana wonder if this is the same doctor who diagnosed Roman with high blood pressure and medicated him for it. It makes sense.

But, it’s when they’re alone that the waterworks seem to really come out, Solana unable to hold it in any longer. “I’m sorry—this—this is all my fault.” She cries, Roman gently cradling her face as she shakes her head. “You–you got hurt because of m-me-.”

Roman looks thoroughly confused, asking, “what are you talking about?”

There’s such a heaviness in her stomach and on her chest. She doesn’t want to do this. God, she really doesn’t want to. But, it’s her not doing this in the first place that landed them where they are.

“Roman…..” She closes her eyes. This is so much harder than she thought it would be, and she never thought it would be easy per se, but she also didn’t think it would be this damn painful. “My—my father. He…he wanted our marriage to happen so—so that I—” It’s like knives splitting and slicing the back of her throat as she forces out, “he wanted me to kill you.”

If Roman has a strong or visceral reaction to her dark confession, he doesn’t show it. His expression remains unreadable, maybe a bit of concern, but that was present the minute he laid eyes on her.

“And he said that if I didn’t do it, then he–he would kill me, and that’s w–why you got hurt tonight, because—because of me, because I didn’t say anything.” A fresh set of tears generate as she desperately tries to help him and make him believe her as she explains, “but, I—I was never going to—I could never—I’d rather die than do anything to h–hurt you.”

And it’s the truth.

She would have rather him let the bullet hit her than him.

It’s not fair he had to pay for her actions. Or lack, in this case.

“Solana.” He cuts her off, gentle, voice much calmer than she anticipated in response to such a confession. “I already knew.”

And just like that, she’s back to not breathing again, rendered nearly incapable of speech as she stammers out a response, “w–what?”

Roman sighs deeply, thumb caressing the apple of her cheek. “I always knew your father was up to something. I’m far from stupid. He was too eager and pushy to make the marriage happen. It was obvious he had ulterior motives.” His eyes squint a bit, as he asks her, “why you think one of the first things I did when we got married was cut off contact between the two of you, huh? Whatever he was planning, I wasn’t gonna let him use you to do it.”

Roman’s words together make a logical, sensical sentence, but it’s the processing of it that she struggles with. Roman knew. He knew all along that her father was planning something.

And yet he said nothing.

He has no reaction.

He continues, admitting, “I didn’t know specifically what he had planned, but it doesn’t really make a difference. Murder. Coup d'etat. He wasn't the first, and he won’t be the last.” It’s the casual way he says it that Solana feels so conflicted about, so stunned how he can be so calm about constant threats against his life, against his empire. “This isn’t the first time I’ve been shot, and it probably won’t be the last time.”

“Don’t say that.” She whispers. The trauma and shock of seeing him shot was bad enough, and seeing he appears okay is relieving, but the thought of it happening again feels almost unbearable.

“Solana, you know what I am and what I do. But, it’s like I told you before, I have a tendency to not die, which pisses people off.” His delivery towards the end manages to make her smile. It’s small and sad, but a smile nonetheless. “There it is….” His thumb brushes away some of her tears. “Don’t cry, baby. You know I don’t like seeing you upset.”

She noticed. The same way she doesn’t like to see him hurt. For him to be anything other than okay.

Roman’s eyes shift into something softer as he asks, “why didn’t you tell me?” It’s a question born from curiosity versus the accusatory nature she would expect from someone who was just told their wife was sent to kill them.

It’s a bit of a difficult one to answer too. “I was—I was scared. At the beginning of our marriage, I—I was scared what you would do to me if—if I told you.”

There’s an almost pained look that flashes across his face as he vows, “Solana, you know I would never—”

“I know. I know that now.” She stresses, gently cutting him off. There’s not a doubt in her mind that Roman would never do anything to intentionally hurt her. “But, I—I didn’t then. And….I think I just—I didn’t want to think about it, because things were going good and—and I hadn’t seen him in so long, but I was wrong—and I should have said something sooner—”

“It doesn’t matter.” He’s the one to cut her off this time, shaking his head. “But Solana, your father has crossed a line this time. He tried to kill you.” Roman’s eyes are blazing with with the flame of anger and fury, a desire for vengeance clearly dancing at the forefront of his mind. “I know I told you I wouldn’t kill him until you told me—”

“I don’t care,” she affirms, voice darkening into something also angry. “He—he tried to take you from me. I don’t—I don’t care what happens to him anymore. Him or Wes.”

Because while she doesn’t know the status of her brother and his recovery, Wes was just as involved with the evil plan, so what went down tonight had to have some influence from him in one way or another. It makes him just as guilty.

Roman nods and kisses her temple. He then calls out, “Jey.” It’s loud enough for his cousin to hear, opening the door and asking, “what’s up?”

Roman doesn’t hesitate. “Get me Miller. Just Xavier.” Solana must look curious as he explains, “your brother isn’t well enough yet. I want him back to health, so I can prolong his torture.” It paints a picture of a brutal, gruesome ending, but she can’t find it in her to be repulsed. Whatever hope she had for her brother is clearly long gone, if it was ever there.

“You got it.” Jey nods and closes the door as Solana places her hand on Roman’s forearm, drawing his attention down to her.

“I—I want to talk to him before—-” She swallows, asking, “please?”

Roman nods. “Of course.” She’s thankful for his agreement but not entirely surprised. He breaks away from her, countenance shifts into something stoic and determined.

“This ends tonight.”

________

Solana’s introduction to the place where her husband has probably taken and ended more lives than she’d like to admit is definitely a one and done thing. The atmosphere alone is so dark and depressing that if not for her hand in his and him walking closely alongside her, she might even find herself a bit scared.

But his presence along with her determination to get in her final words to her father manage to carry her over.

She’s also both surprised and relieved when she sees Bayley and Naomi also present. She’s unable to ask them about their presence because Roman is already explaining, “I know you don’t want to be home alone tonight, and I’m not making it back anytime soon.”

She nods, not needing to know why. The edge in his voice is all the telling she needs.

Solana’s stomach drops a bit when she’s taken to her father, strapped to a chair, hands and wrists tied. His face is bruised up, cut, and bleeding. Her eyes must give away her curiosity, Jimmy answering, “he fell.”

Jey suddenly punches him in the side of his head. “Ain’t that what you said when you and your boy was beating on your own fucking daughter?”

Solana swallows. Yes. That’s often what he said to cover up the result of their abuse.

Solana drops her hand and steps a bit closer to him, Roman not once moving or ripping his eyes away from them. It’s virtually impossible for Xavier to do anything to her, but she understands her husband is not willing to take any risks, regardless.

She ignores the weapons and items around her, no doubt intended for unspeakable acts of violence and torture. She just focuses on the man before her, taking in the fact that this is the last time she’ll ever stare into his dark eyes and have to look at his evil face.

“All—all I ever wanted….was for you to love me.” She hates the emotion that chunks up the back of her throat, making it a bit harder for her to speak. “But you never did, and you never will, and—and that’s okay.” She recalls one of the many powerful, profound quotes from her book, reciting it boldly and confidently. “Your inability to love me is not a reflection on my ability to be loved.” She’d like to say she witnesses some type of emotional reaction in her father at her powerful statement, but there’s nothing there.

There never was.

Stepping back, she takes one final look at him, accepting this is the end of this road. The end of all the hurt and pain he’s ever caused her. After tonight, it’s all over. “Goodbye, Dad.”

Solana is back by Roman, taking her hand in his as Xavier’s small, dark laughter draws her attention back to him.

“Didn’t you ever wonder how they bypassed the security system? Both times?”

Solana’s brows are furrowed, confusion dancing in her eyes. Before she can say anything, Roman barks a rough order to the twins, “gag him!”

One glance at him, and she sees something unfamiliar, something that looks strangely close to nervousness.

To fear.

“No,” she finds herself calling out, stopping Jey who was halfway close to doing just that, bandana in his right hand. “What—what are you talking about?”

“Solana, he’s just trying to fuck with your head.” She hears Roman, feels his slight tug on her sleeve as he tries to pull her away, but she also detects something else.

Avoidance.

Roman is intentionally trying to divert her away from this conversation, topic, whatever it is.

Xavier chuckles cruelly, coughing up a bit of blood. “I warned that bitch. I told her what would happen if she tried to take Wesley away from me.”

Now…now he has Solana’s full attention.

She steps toward him, asking again, “what are you t–talking about?”

“Solana, please—”

But, she continues to ignore Roman and instead focuses on whatever it is her father is about to drop on her, something she feels is about to change everything.

Xavier’s bloody smile is cruel and taunting as he reveals, “I was the one who ordered the hit on your mother.” And before she can even sit on that, another bomb is dropped. “And you.”

Solana staggers back, jerking away from Roman as he reaches to touch her. Her mouth is dropped, her heartbeat erratic. She all of a sudden feels dizzy, but it doesn’t stop her from asking again, “what—what did you just say?”

“Shut him up, Jey!”

“No!” Solana shouts both at her husband and his cousin. “I want to know!”

“Your mother was planning to take you and Wesley away from me, and truth be told, if she left Wesley and just took you, I probably wouldn’t have given a fuck. But no, she wanted both of her children. She was a problem, so I got rid of her.” Each word that leaves his mouth has Solana wanting to sink further and further into the ground. “The hit was for both of you, but of course, you fucking survived.” The venom in his voice and hatred in his eyes is almost palpable, further deepening the pain of this betrayal. “I refused to pay them the full amount since they botched the job and didn’t kill you, but that still left the balance for your mother….the balance you paid for me.” And with the most vile smile of all, he adds on coarsely, “who’d have thought a kid’s virginity would sell so high?”

And it’s that statement. That cruel, vindictive statement that breaks her.

Hand to her stomach, Solana almost collapses to the floor but Roman is behind her, catching her fall.

Now that she can focus on him, on anything other than the millions thoughts racing through her mind. Random facts and statements finally coming together, painting a horrific, grim picture.

The failure of the security system both times.

The failed pin entry of her mom’s shaking hands and two years later, Solana’s shaking hand, as they desperately tried to enter the panic room, only for it to flash a red rejection notice.

It was him the whole time.

He killed her mother. He was the one responsible for her rape.

All of it.

Emotions erupt to the surface as Solana tries to break from Roman’s embrace and lunge for her father.

“I hate you!” She screams, unable to think and see beyond her pain. “I fucking hate you!” She can’t stop trying to break Roman’s solid grip on her. She wants to hit him. Wants to stab him. Burn him. Anything and everything that can make him feel just a fraction of her agony. “How could you do that to me!” She cries, wanting, needing an answer. Needing to know why. “I was a child!” She’s never felt something so heavy, so painful. “I was your child!”

As her physical resolve breaks, more diminishes than anything, Solana feels Roman trying to guide her away.

But it’s a mistake, it’s a mistake because she uses that slice of an opening to break away from him and snatch one of the guns on a table, pointing it at her father’s head. But then, she’s not. She’s not because Roman is suddenly standing between her and her target.

Her resolve falters for a bit, as she shouts at him, “move!”

Jimmy’s furious voice calls out. “Man, let her do it, Roman!”

Roman’s gaze is fiery as he silences his cousin with a shout. “Shut up!” But just as quickly as he was enraged, his expression softens almost inhumanly quickly as he pleads, “Solana, listen to me—”

She’s not trying to hear it though. She can’t hear it. “He killed my mother! My mother!”

“I know,” his expression softens into something solemn and sympathetic. “But you don’t want to do this—“

She snaps, her fingers on the gun tightening, her grip firm and focused. “He needs to die!”

“And he will, I promise you that. Slowly. Gradually. In the agonizing way that he deserves, but that can only happen if you let me do this for you—”

Solana cries, shoulders dropping but her aim still intact. “He let them rape me.” Her body trembles, a combination of her heartache and inconsolable rage. “He took her from me! She was my mother!”

If not for the severity and all around heightened tensions, Solana would notice the heartbreaking and furious expressions of the twins, Bayely, and Naomi who now know the exact horror she has experienced. The reason for her disposition. The source of her trauma.

Roman, however, remains focused on de-escalating the situation. “I know, baby, but you’re not a killer, Solana, and I’m not about to let you become one.” If she was thinking straight, capable of thinking clearly in this moment, she’d know he’s only protecting her. Only trying to save her from the thing she told him not even a week ago she could never forgive herself for. Taking someone’s life. “Once you do this, there’s no turning back.”

Solana’s eyes shut as another round of tears makes its way to the surface, heavier and harder to manage with the gun in her hand.

Roman notices this and takes a tentative step forward. “Please, Solana.” His tone is almost desperate, borderline begging. “Give me the gun.”

Eyes still closed and with a weakness she hasn’t felt in years, Solana relents, loosening her grip, allowing Roman to take the gun that he quickly hands to Jey. He moves to catch her as she falls into his chest, sobbing again. Roman cradles her head and kisses the top of her hair while Jimmy and Jey move to jump Xavier, taking that opportunity to get blows in on the old man, both careful to avoid any that could be lethal.

It’s obvious this son of a bitch is in line for a world of suffering that will extend far past tonight.

“Oh, we finna take our time killing you, motherfucker.”

Everything sounds a bit distant. The sound of the twins yelling obscenities at the demon she called a father. Roman trying to comfort her, to settle her. It’s all too much. Too overwhelming. The crying settles into something sullen and solemn, silent tears streaming down her face as she murmurs against him, “I want to go home.”

The emotion is there, but her presence and awareness of everything is diminishing. Solana knows what’s coming, has experienced this state of separation, of dissociating.

She needs to get away.

Roman says something she can’t make out, and before she realizes it, there’s another set of arms around her. Bayley. Naomi is chatting with Roman, the only thing she’s able to make out,

‘Don’t leave her alone.’

Alone.

She’s not sure she’s ever felt that as strongly as she does at this moment.

________

It’s all such a blur.

Such a separate thing. Emotions separate from her. Emotions that are dark, heavy, confusing, overwhelming. Fleeting. There’s an oscillation of all the feelings. Tears that accompany heartache. Sobbing that accompanies grief. Nothing that arrives with nothing.

It’s a brutal, miserable experience of feeling the weight of the world but also the emptiness of the void.

It’s obvious that Naomi and Bayley don’t know how to help her, don’t know how to comfort her, just continue to sit with her, letting her cry when she needs to and scream when she has to. Even Dulce sits by her side, whimpering every so often and licking her.

It’s appreciated. So appreciated.

But….it’s not enough.

Losing her mother was heartbreaking. Losing her in the way she did, so violently and graphically was torture.

Being held down and gang raped by two grown men at twelve years old nearly killed her. They nearly killed her.

But, there’s something about finding out that her father, her biological father, was responsible for those two things that’s almost impossible to believe.

She knew her father was cruel.

She just didn’t know just how cruel until this very evening.

Escape.

Her mother was trying to escape, trying to make a better life for herself and her children. And he killed her for it.

Tried to kill Solana too, and when that didn’t work, he traded her virginity in exchange for payment.

Flashes. Glimpses. Images.

They’ve been hitting her nonstop since the truth came out. Playing in her mind like some kind of sick horror film. It’s torture. It’s painful. It’s unbearable.

It’s too much.

She places her hands on the bathroom counter, having finished using the bathroom after waking up yet again from night terrors.

Her eyes shut.

Solana is tired.

So so tired. Tired of the pain. Of the lies. Of the betrayal. Everything hurts. Everything feels so heavy. She tries to escape in sleep, but the memories haunt her and suddenly, she’s reliving it all, but now with the horrific knowledge that the first man who should have ever loved and protected her was responsible for her biggest traumas.

And it’s impossible to escape those flashes, those thoughts and flashbacks becoming more frequent and intrusive by the minute. She’s suffocating.

Drowning in her own head.

Drowning in her own body.

Solana’s eyes open and fall over to the shower where her razor would have been available if not for her earlier strength and ability to hand it and the brand new box of them over to Bayley and Naomi.

Just an hour or two ago, she was able to do that much. Able to resist that temptation and not break years of sobriety.

But, now…. now she can’t.

She doesn’t even want to.

That would only provide a temporary escape.

She’s just….just so tired.

She wants….needs something longer.

Something more permanent.

Unable to escape the mental anguish, Solana leans down and digs through a toiletries bag from the trip she hasn’t unpacked.

And she pulls out the bottle of sleeping pills.

Roman’s request from months ago returns, smacking into her.

“Any of those thoughts come back, you tell me. I don’t care if you have to paint it on the fucking wall. I want to know.” His intense expression is set right on her, needing to make sure she understands what he’s asking of her. “Understand?”

Her eyes water.

Roman….

Even with his lack of being honest with her, of somehow knowing but not telling her the truth, there’s never been a person that she’s loved more than him. Not since her mom.

It’s why she can’t call him. Can’t continue to burden him with having to deal with all her shit.

All she’s done since entering his life is make shit difficult. She’s done it with him. Bayley. Naomi. Jimmy. Jey.

All of them.

They’ve had to adjust so much just for her, and for what? For her to end up right back where she started?

She can’t….she can’t do that to them again.

She can’t do that to Roman again.

She loves him too much for that, loves him too much to continue to hurt him.

She just….she just needs to remove herself from the equation.

Needs to remove herself from all of their lives.

Forever.

Shaking hands twist off the cap as she dumps a handful of pills into her trembling palm.

There’s the briefest second of a delay, a moment where she reconsiders, where she wonders if she’s making the right decision. But another flashback hits her, the feeling of the knife slicing through her mother’s lifeless body and entering Solana ripping her away from that reconsideration.

Another thought of Roman and her friends having to help her yet again.

Save her again.

She can’t do it anymore. She doesn’t want to do it anymore.

There is no saving her anymore.

This is the only way.

And she swallows, using the water bottle on the counter to force the excessive amount of pills down her throat. A brief glance at her reflection brings on another set of silent tears. Broken. Empty. There’s nothing left for her to do, no reason for her to exist anymore.

Not even bothering to put the pills away, Solana walks out of the bathroom and into the dark bedroom where Bayley is the first to ask, still sitting in the chair in the corner of the room, dedicated to staying awake for her ‘shift’, completely unaware of this being the last time they’ll interact. “Do you need something?”

Solana shakes her head and climbs back onto the bed. Grabbing her phone, ignoring the tears that blur her vision, she types out a simple text to the one person she’ll miss the most.

She’ll miss them all, but none more than him.

Solana: I’m sorry.

Sent and delivered, she locks her phone, placing it on the nightstand, closing her eyes.

Solana just wants to go to sleep.

And this time…..not wake up.

________

Rage.

Fury.

Wrath.

And any word synonymous to anger, yet none of them adequately describe what’s coursing all throughout Roman’s body. Years. It’s been years since he’s felt this much anger, held so much of it that he has a hard time thinking and feeling.

He’s incapable of escaping the sound of Solana’s sobbing, the way she literally fell apart in front of him, breaking before him.

And it’s all because of the son of a bitch currently underneath him on the receiving end of devastating blow after blow of Roman’s brass knuckled fists. How long he’s been hitting the old man is beyond him. Not long enough.

It’ll never be long enough.

Never painful enough.

Not for what he’s done.

A hand on his uninjured shoulder temporarily pulls him away from his newfound life mission to make this piece of shit feel every type of pain imaginable before he takes his last breath.

Roman’s roar bounces off the walls. “What!”

Jey looks unfazed by Roman’s irate tone and instead advises, “he’s unconscious, Uce. Let up or you gon kill him.”

That’s the fucking goal.

But not yet. Death is too sweet for Xavier to receive at this point.

Huffing and suddenly aware of all the energy expended as well as the blood splattered all over his clothes and face, Roman tosses the knuckles to the side and issues an order to Jey even while walking, refusing to acknowledge any appreciation for his warning, “let me know when Jimmy has them.”

Them.

Them being the two men who have no idea what kind of horror awaits them. Men whose names were tortured out of Xavier pretty easily by Roman.

Rapists.

Solana’s rapists.

Reaching the locker room in the back, Roman easily strips himself naked and steps in the shower, allowing the water to rain down his body, red mixing with clear and disappearing down the drain. Hands against the shower wall, he shuts his eyes.

He can’t escape the sound of Solana’s wails. He’s never heard or seen her so upset. Never wanted to. It’s the exact reason he settled on not telling her the truth, because he knew this would happen.

Knew this would destroy her.

It’s just the extent of the destruction that worries him.

Just how far back this has set her that has him feeling something he hasn’t felt in years but has now experienced twice tonight. Once when he saw the hand raised and gun lifted in Solana’s direction and now her breakdown.

Fear.

It has him scared.

And Roman doesn't know what to do with that emotion, doesn’t know how to handle it outside of beating the shit out of and torturing her father and rapists. But even that only does so much.

It doesn’t do enough, because she’s hurting, more than she probably ever has, and he can’t do shit about it.

Because making the fuckers who hurt her suffer doesn’t do shit for the pain she’s experiencing now.

And he hates that shit. Hates that she’s hurting and he can’t help her, take away that pain from her.

With all the frustration in his body, Roman slams his fist into the shower wall, forcing himself to calm down just enough to get cleaned up.

He uses a fresh set of clothes in the lockers to redress himself, redoing his bandages and using a towel to dry off his hair as best as possible.

But, it’s when Jey comes and seems to interfere with Roman starting his next round of torture, a thought of starting to skin the old man sounding more than desirable, that his frustration multiplies.

“Not now.”

Roman continues to walk when he feels Jey forcefully grab his arm, forcing him to turn around. Roman looks at his hand and then back at Jey. “Have you lost—”

“Roman.”

But, it’s the tone that stops the Head of the Table from issuing out his threat. In all the years he’s known Jey, he’s never heard his cousin use such a heavy, spooked tone.

“What?” There’s hesitation, and that only pisses Roman off. “What!”

Jey swallows, answering with an almost pained countenance. “Solana’s at the hospital.” Jey’s frown, sadness seeped and imbued into his usual gregarious voice. “She tried to kill herself, Roman.”

________

Three.

There’s now been three separate occurrences in a single day that have caused Roman to experience the emotion most unfamiliar to him.

Fear.

And this third time, it’s the strongest it’s ever been as he marches into the hospital floor where he was informed she was.

“Where is she!”

And when his gaze lands on a clearly disturbed and crying Naomi and Bayley, the anger only grows as he moves over to them. “What the fuck happened!” Roman doesn’t give them time to respond, too consumed with his anger that’s truly a mask hiding his fear. “Why weren’t you watching her! I fucking told you to watch her!”

Bayley is the first to shoot up from her chair, eyes watery but scowl intact. “We were! She—”

But, he’s not trying to hear shit what she has to say. Not when they’ve failed him in the worst way possible. “Obviously you fucking weren’t because we’re standing in a goddamn hosptal–”

Jimmy, who Roman had completely forgotten came along with him, Jey as well, does his best to diffuse the situation, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Roman, you need to calm—”

But the Head of the Table is too far gone, harshly shrugging off his cousin’s innocent attempt at calming him down. “Don’t fucking touch me!” Roman removes himself from their presence, not even wanting to see these useless bitches as he calls out once again. “Where is she!”

It’s only then he sees a blonde woman walk out from the back, dressed in a white coat, clipboard in hand. She looks irritated which only pisses him off because how the fuck do you work at a fucking hospital and look annoyed. But, when she sees him, or maybe sees how irate he is, her gaze softens.

She steps in his direction as Roman also steps toward her, putting some distance between himself and the group. “Mr. Reigns, can—”

“Where is my wife?” It’s the same question he will keep asking until it no longer needs to be asked because he’s taken to her.

The woman, doctor, probably, frowns, motioning to the back. “Can we talk in private?”

Roman pinches the bridge of his nose, doing his best not to violate his code of never putting his hands on a woman. But, this bitch is really fucking pushing it.

He just wants to see Solana.

He needs to see her.

“You’ve got three fucking seconds to take me—”

She scoffs, relenting and “Fine, we’ll do it here. Your wife is in recovery. We were able to successfully pump her stomach, but we had to sedate her because she was inconsolable upon waking up. I suspect she’s in the midst of some sort of psychotic episode.”

There’s so much in that sentence to process. Roman doesn’t even know where to begin to dissect it, so he starts with the part that pisses him off the most. “She tried to overdose on pills and your solution was to put more fucking medicine in her?”

The doctor, however, seems to show no sign of backing down. “My patient needed to be stabilized, so I stabilized her.” Her voice softens a bit as she adds, not necessarily as something to throw in his face but rather an important note he shouldn’t ignore. “If you had seen how upset she was, you would have understood.”

Roman, however, can’t think about that. Can’t think about how upset and terrified Solana must have been. Somehow a level calmer, he expresses once again, “I want to see her.”

“I understand, but—”

Right away, Roman knows his brief respite from level 10 rage is about to be broken by whatever she’s about to say. “What?”

She takes a deep breath, informing, “I’m putting her on a 5250 hold.”

Roman looks from side to side. “What the fuck does that mean?”

There’s no sign of hesitation as she explains, “it means I’m keeping her here in the hospital for two weeks on a legally mandated psychiatric hold.”

Yeah….he was absolutely right.

Level fucking 10.

“Like hell you are!” Roman is seeing red. Who in the flying fuck does this bitch think she is to say Solana is staying in the hospital? “She’s coming home with me. Tonight. The minute she fucking wakes up.”

And that’s a fact.

“How much do you know about Solana’s psychiatric history?” A lot, and that’s why he knows she doesn’t need to stay here in this forbidding, sterile place. She needs to be home with him so he can take care of her. “This is her second suicide attempt. Now, I don’t know what the hell happened to trigger this psychotic break, but your wife is severely and actively suicidal.” She lowers her voice, softly and almost sympathetically sharing with him so only he can hear. “She was inconsolable because she was upset we saved her life. She was upset she was still alive.”

That’s it.

The thing that makes Roman’s anger crumble almost entirely.

He wanted to believe it was a mistake, an accident of some sort. Didn’t want to believe that she truly intended to take her life tonight.

But this woman has no reason to lie, and beyond that, he’s innately adept at deciphering when someone is lying and when they’re being truthful.

She’s not lying.

Solana wanted to die.

Solana wanted to actually die.

And he doesn’t know what to do with that information.

At all.

The crack in his harsh exterior must be evident, because the doctor continues to try to convince him what he now knows probably is the right thing to do. “You can get her to sign an AMA and take her home, but I guarantee you that she’ll end up right back in this hospital for another attempt…..and the next time might be too late.”

He can’t.

Roman can’t lose her. He can’t even let himself think about what he would do if he lost her.

Especially if it was because of her own actions.

She continues, desperate, “let us get her stabilized. On a medication regimen. As I said, this presents as a brief psychotic episode, which we can help her manage and treat but only if you let us keep her here to monitor her.”

Roman tilts his head back, eyes closed as he scratches his beard. There’s an unfamiliar weight in his chest and stomach at the thought of having to leave this hospital tonight without Solana. But this isn’t about what he wants, it’s about what’s best for Solana.

It’s about what she needs, and he’ll do whatever he has to do to make sure she gets the help she needs.

“Jey.” His cousin steps up, previously keeping a respectful distance. “Get with security. I don’t want a son of a bitch that’s not Bloodline or Bloodline vetted to step foot on this floor while she’s here.”

Jey nods. “You got it.”

Roman overhears footsteps followed by the woman speaking again, “Thank you.” She takes another deep breath and informs, “Now, it’s standard practice that we not allow visitors the first couple days—“

And just like that, the anger has returned, even more intense now that he knows Solana isn’t getting released tonight. Or anytime soon. “I don’t give a fuck about your standard practice—”

Bayley’s voice suddenly enters the conversation, Roman aware that the remaining group has stepped forward, obviously wanting to be aware of the plan and what happens now. “Roman, can you please just let Dr. Stratus do her fucking job? This isn’t about—”

Bayley, however, chose the wrong time to fuck with him. Because any filter he ever acquired because of Solana certainly won’t be used until she’s back home, with him, where she belongs. “Like you were supposed to? Solana wouldn’t be here if you were watching her like I fucking told you to! This is your fault!”

There’s a small, minute part of him that feels bad when he sees the devastation on Bayley’s face, but it’s short lived, vastly overpowered by his tremendous anger.

And fear.

Bayley is quick with the response though, ready and willing to aim just as low as he is. “Fuck you, Roman! You don’t get to blame this on us! You should have fucking told her! You had no right to keep the truth from her! She’s here because of you!”

The dark irony in her accusation is that It’s nothing he doesn’t already know.

Nothing he doesn’t already hate himself for.

Bayley is absolutely right.

This absolutely is on him.

His attempts to save her only damned her.

“Stop it! Both of ya’ll! This don’t do shit to help, and Solana wouldn’t want ya’ll fighting!” Jimmy suddenly jumps in, moving between the two highly emotional people, even if both are only expressing it as anger. He turns to his cousin first, as Naomi tries to pull Bayley away, also working to de-escalate an already tense situation. “Look, Uce, I know you want to see her, but—”

“I’m not leaving without seeing her.” Roman’s gaze is on his cousin but it’s directed toward the doctor who either takes some type of mercy on him or recognizes that Roman will literally kill everyone who gets in his way if she doesn’t give in to his demand, because she’s switching her tune.

“A couple of minutes,” she relents. “But only you.”

Roman doesn’t care about the rest of them anyway. They can see her whenever they fucking see her.

He’s the one who needs to see her.

But, it’s in seeing her that a part of him wishes he didn’t. Because this isn’t right. She shouldn’t be laid up like this, unconscious, pale, such a sad expression on her sleeping face.

He hasn’t seen her like this since that first night he overheard and woke her up from her nightmare.

A nightmare.

He’d give anything for that to be the case again.

“I can’t lose you, Solana.” It's the first thing to leave his mouth, a plea and prayer. There’s nothing but vulnerability in his voice, and he doesn’t give a fuck. He’ll be as vulnerable as he needs to be for her. He’ll do anything for her. “I need you. I told you that, but I don’t think you understand how badly I need you.”

If there was any doubt before, it’s completely destroyed now. He doesn’t know how honest or comfortable he could be outside of these four walls, if it wasn’t just the two of them, but right now, with nothing but her steady breathing and rhythmic beating of the machines she’s plugged up to, he’ll pour his heart out.

“You can’t leave me, alright?” Roman’s hand moves to her forehead, thumb caressing her skin that feels too cold, doesn’t feel like her. “I don’t care what it takes, what you need, what I have to fucking do, but I need you to get better, and I’ll do anything to help you.”

And he will. It’s why despite how much he hates this notion of having to leave her, the almost anxiety he has at having to leave tonight without her in his arms, he’ll do it. He’ll do it because he just wants her to be happy.

She deserves that, and he’ll do whatever it takes to get it to her.

His voice is thick with emotion. “I just need you to stay with me, baby, okay?” Not being able to see her pretty brown eyes, the curl of her full lips as she smiles, his favorite fucking thing in the world, it’s torture.

He never wants to see her like this again.

He can’t.

He won’t.

Roman kisses her forehead and forces himself to walk out of the hospital room, one of the hardest departures he’s ever had to do. Dr. Stratus is waiting outside the door, and just like that, the infamous stoic, unreadable expression is back.

With Solana, he’s just Roman.

But for everyone else, he’s the Tribal Chief.

There is no other option.

“No men on her care team. Women only.” If she’s going to be here, he’s going to make sure she

has everything she needs. “I want daily updates. Anything happens or changes with her status at all, I want to know. You understand me?”

Dr. Stratus must have also read the section in Solana’s medical records that alludes to her sexual trauma, because she doesn’t object. “Understood.” She swallows, bringing the medical chart to her chest. “You know…I head an inpatient women’s psychiatric clinic about an hour out. It’s not uncommon for patients like your wife to transition there following dis—”

“You can keep her on your two week hold, but she’s coming home with me as soon as that’s up. Try and get in my way, and I’ll fucking kill you.”

She’s wise to not push, smart to not try to stop him from leaving, because as far as Roman is concerned, there’s nothing and no one he’ll stop short from torturing, killing, and maiming if they try to get in his way of being with Solana.

He can’t live without her.

He loves her too much to live without her.

#roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns x black!reader #roman reigns fic #roman reigns #arisnotebook

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gallaghersgal · 4 months ago

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okay okay, hear me out. marriage of convenience trope between carmy and uncle jimmy's daughter

hi dev bee !! thank u for the req my love <3 warnings; angst then comfort, hint of mean carm, then soft carm. very very very soft and fuzzy carm.

marriage of convenience from this trope list. part of my 1,500 follower celebration!

carmen needed unwavering financial support from your father, and you needed your family off your back about marriage. so, the two of you found yourself at the courthouse about a year ago. carmen was sweet, at the very least. he'd sent you with sugar and his credit card to thrift a vintage wedding dress, something you'd always wanted to do. he wore slacks and a navy button up with a white tie, his unruly curls hastily slicked back, one falling down in a spiral by his brow.

you kept your heart guarded to the best of your ability. sometimes it was difficult, when carmen would cook your favorite meals and maintain a level of attention to your needs that had never been met by another partner. all of that, without the romance or intimacy of your previous relationships either. it was honestly the most frustrating thing you've ever dealt with.

one night while the two of you maneuver around your one small bedroom getting ready to sleep, you mention to carmen how your parents have moved past bugging you about marriage and turned to questions about when you'd be having children. your husband frowned, wringing his hands in annoyance. "you knew that would happen when we started this," he snaps. "restaurant's in a good place, i'm paying cicero back, y-you can tell 'im we're separating."

oh. his words bite at you, a few tears welling in your eyes. "yeah, okay." you move to grab your pillow from the bed and keep your face hidden from him, not interested talking things out. you were scared if you spoke you'd say something you regretted. "i'll sleep on the couch."

carmen shakes his head, "hey, don't be like that. this has never-" he gestures between the two of you, a lost expression on his face. "don' look at me like a kicked fuckin' puppy. i'll take the couch."

that night as you lay in the king size bed your father had bought, you realize for the first time how much you'd grown to enjoy spending your nights with carmen. his warmth beside you tends to quell the loneliness in your chest and despite the lack of romantic connection, there's something between the two of you. when your eyes flutter closed you see the indescribable emotion on his face. when your restless body tosses and turns you imagine his warmth beside you.

around 3am you cave, seeking out your husband in the living room. his shoulder is warm as you rest your hand there and shake it gently. "carmen. carmen, wake up," you whisper.

he startles, bleary blue eyes peering up at you. "mmhf, hey," he grumbles.

"come to bed, don't sleep out here."

a puzzled expression crosses his features, "'s'alright, m' s'comfortable." his voice is soft and tired, and your heart swells.

you kneel down beside the couch, fingers gently brushing curls back from his forehead as you gather the courage to speak the words on the tip of your tongue. "carmen, i want you to come back to bed. i want my husband to sleep in our bedroom." you stop there, trying to convey the things left unspoken with the gentle touch of your hand.

and of course, carmen understands without a single word. he catches your hand, eyes locked on yours as he brushes a kiss to your open palm. "we can talk in the morning," he says, lips lifting into a gentle smile. his hand stays in yours as you return to the bedroom, one arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you close once the two of you are settled.

the last thing you hear before drifting off is his voice mumbling, "i think we can make this work."

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto fluff #maggie's 1.5k #maggie's 1.5k: reqs #maggie’s musings [blurbs]

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arjwrites · 6 months ago

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Back On the Beach- Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Reader and the Winchesters find themselves at the beach for a rare day off after a long string of difficult hunts. Something about the special day changes things forever. Warnings: Some language and angst but nothing crazy. A/N: Nothing heals my heart more than a happy Dean Winchester. Hope you enjoy <3 Another hunt was in the books. That was the third one this week- you'd lost track beyond that. You and the Winchesters had definitely been “cranking and ganking,” as Dean had been calling it, but you all were exhausted to say the least. No rest for the wicked, though. When you arrived back at the motel after taking out the vamp nest, it seemed like Sam had already found another hunt, and all of you prepped to ship out in the morning.

You woke after a near restless night, your entire body weighed down by a lack of sleep. Getting up and into the shower felt like moving through Jell-O, so you couldn’t even imagine how Sam and Dean felt. Even more so Dean, who had blamed himself for one of the casualties of last night’s hunt. Before climbing into your bed the night before, you had given him a tight hug. “We can’t save everyone,” you reminded him with a gentle whisper. But you still heard him pacing the whole night- he didn’t so much as sit, let alone lay down and close his eyes. So you were up all night, partially from worry and partially because of the noise he was making. And if you had been kept up, you knew Sam had been too. That’s why you were surprised to hear some particularly chipper laughter and discussion between the two boys as you emerged from the shower.

“Y/N! Bobby took over that case I found last night. He was in the area, so I guess we have a day off. I was thinking we could just take the time to get some rest, but Jimmy Buffet over here wants to hit the beach,” laughed Sam, hucking a packed bag into Dean’s chest. Dean caught it with a huff before holding it out to one side in order to show off his ensemble.

“Hey, when in Margaritaville, right? How often do we get a case somewhere like this, huh? Let’s live a little.”

Dean was decked out in Hawaiian patterned swim trunks clearly purchased from the tourist shop down the street, complete with a towel around his neck and a pair of gas station sunglasses. He was right, how often were you taking cases in Florida (seriously, enough freaky shit goes on there, yet somehow none of it is supernatural)? Your first instinct was to laugh, because he looked ridiculous, but simultaneously, your heart soared. To see Dean getting excited about something so mundane as a little beach trip was a small miracle. Things hadn’t been easy on the road recently, and it seemed like Dean had taken the brunt of it- the guilt, the sleepless nights, the long, long hours. It always hurt you to see the way he took it all, never giving himself any kindness or time to relax. So for you, it was an easy choice to humor him a little. And after a bit of convincing Sam (okay, maybe you and Dean begging and annoying the crap out of him), you got him on board too.

After remedial stops at the tourist shop for swimsuits for you and Sam, and the gas station for beer, sunglasses, and the sunscreen you insisted on (“Dean Winchester I have seen you take on some scary shit, so help me God, skin cancer will not be the thing that takes you out”), your crew finally found their way down to the water. And from the moment you stepped foot in the sand, the gentle crash of the waves washed the worries from your minds. It was rare day when you three could be normal. Normal people at the beach, with no monsters to kill, no world to save, no burdens weighing you down.

It had been a picture perfect beach day. Seriously, Dean made sure you all got the full experience. He had picked up beach chairs and towels and a football for him and Sam to toss back and forth. You sat reclined in one of the chairs, reading a book (a non-lore book, you couldn’t remember the last time you read for pleasure) and watching over the boys, laughing at their interactions. After zoning into your story for a while, you lost track of the boys. Figuring they had gone exploring down the beach, you let yourself fall entirely engrossed in the cheesy romance you were reading. They didn’t call them beach reads for nothing! The protagonist was finally alone with the love interest, who was about to lean in for a kiss, until- the book went flying out of your hand, and you went flying over Dean’s shoulder.

“HEY! Put me down!” Your words seemed frustrated, but your tone was anything but.

Dean raced down to the ocean as you bounced rhythmically off of his strong back. You playfully whacked at him in protest, but it was no use. Finally deep enough into the water, Dean gracefully slid you into his arms and tossed you under. After catching your bearings and emerging from the surf, you surveyed the scene. There was Sam, laughing his ass off. Dean held a smug look, arms crossed and a teasing smile. And you, now soaking wet, caught completely by surprise.

“I will KILL you Dean Winchester!” You ran after him, laughing and splashing. While you had chased down plenty of adversaries recently, there was something about this enemy that was compelling- pretty cute, even.

That was the rest of your afternoon. Playing in the surf, munching on soggy gas station sandwiches, sharing a few beers, and your constant nagging at the boys to reapply sunscreen. Though none of you ever spoke it aloud, there was a shared agreeance that this was so nice. That it was a luxury to feel normal and that in that moment, you three were the luckiest in the world. And it was so fulfilling to sneak a glance at Dean and see him smiling, really smiling. You let your gaze linger, snapping a mental image and filing it away to remember for when things got tough again. You wished you could give him this peace more often.

The sun was setting on your perfect day, but the three of you remained on the beach, stalling the oncoming nightfall and thus, the return to your reality. After a serene while, Sam rose from his chair, wrapping a towel around himself and throwing you and Dean a knowing look.

“Alright, I’m going to head back to the motel and start packing our stuff. You guys stay down here a little longer.”

So there the two of you sat, side by side, leaned back in the chairs, toes dipping into the still-warm sand. You weren’t sure if the subtle pink of Dean’s cheeks was the beginnings of a sunburn or the effects of the day’s alcohol drawing the blood to his face. Warm, tipsy, sunkissed, happy. This was a Dean you wish you could get used to.

“Thanks for taking us here today, Dean. It was a really great idea.” A soft smile graced your face as you reached your hand out, resting it on top of his own.

Your voice drew Dean’s gaze over to you, and the look on his face triggered a pang of hurt in your chest. Though his lips were drawn in a tight smile, his eyes slightly watered and held in them all of the angst of the last few years. It was as if you could see each harrowing memory in their glassy reflection.

“What if we just stayed?” Dean asked, already knowing the answer. His question hung in the air for a moment without a repsonse. You couldn’t stay, you both knew that. There were always going to be people to save and things to hunt. Still, you deserved some peace every now and then. And that was all you wanted to give Dean in this moment- some peace. You wove your fingers into his and pulled him to his feet, meeting him with an embrace. He wrapped his arms around you and continued.

“Obviously we can’t. But, what if we did. You, me, Sammy. We could do this every day. I mean, we’d have to get jobs, but even that would feel like a day at the beach compared to… everything else. We’d be so happy,” he sighed.

“We’re hunters, Dean. We’ve gotta make our own happy.”

“You make me happy.”

That was all you ever asked for. Dean Winchester, in your arms, happy- and because of you, no less. In that moment, you decided that this would be your own personal slice of heaven. A moment you could return to as often as you wanted- something that could never be taken from you. A perfect instance that could remain untouched by the horrors of your world. Everything in this difficult life had lead up to this moment, and every day from here on out you would exist in a world in which you made Dean happy.

With the kind of sweetness that brought tears to your eyes, Dean brought his hand to your cheek, cupped it gently as if it were the most precious thing in the world, and joined his lips with yours. They fit in the way you always knew they would, and the touch sparked the feeling you had always imagined it would. It wasn’t nerves or butterflies. It was so incredibly tranquil. Kissing Dean, finally kissing Dean, felt like bathing your troubles away in the ocean. The hurt, blood, sweat, and tears pooled off of you, and you felt clean, new, at peace. You knew that this wouldn’t fix everything, for either of you. Both of you had your demons, and you’d both be facing plenty more. But from this point on, you could return to this moment- return to each other, and feel your worries wash away. You could come back to the beach for a short while, and things would be okay. You could make your own happy, together.

#dean winchester deserves the world #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x y/n #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #spn fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic

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little-flowers · 11 days ago

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So I saw a TikTok post saying what if the second-place people could remember the past seasons as punishment for losing and like its rotting my head (if anyone knows who made it lemme know so I can credit them)

Scar lost first. He remembers all of third life, and when double life comes along, he clings to grian. It's desert duo all over again. And then grian cheats, but mind you, grian just had a vague idea of Scar. (cheating is still bad, but also, this is a Minecraft death game; things are weird) He knows Scar, who gets hurt and chases after an allay and loses them so many hearts. But Scar knows grian. His grian. His partner in crime, they had a llama together so he just doesn't get it.

Ren gets second next (last-life), that's why he's so insistent on fixing him and BigBs' alliance during double-life (I actually didn't finish watching Double Life from anyone's perspective, so I’m lacking in their info, sorry). They were the shadow alliance; they had to stay together especially when they share hearts.

Scott gets second on our third series and now he knows he won. And that's a very fun bit of trivia. So limited life he just goes with it. He lets himself have a target on his back. He's won he's gotten second, and he didn't mind that he got 10th it was for Jimmy

Now impulse gets second in our fourth series (limited life) and so when secret life comes along well he wants to win. He's had the taste of victory his allies from different seasons have won. He wants to win. That's his goal.

Pearl gets second in our fifth series (Secret Life). Now, the next series are what make things interesting for her. Because technically, Real life comes before wild life. She's in an alliance with Scott; she wants to fix it. But it's one episode; it's not enough.

Scott gets second again in our sixth season (Real life.) And they can't double his pain (they could but it'd be boring, he's never been good at playing the game) but a bit of torture to their double third place girl, who’s still shiny and new works. Gem gets to remember. This is really shown in the pearl hate. She backstabbed her and maybe its a bit fun for them to watch her torture the girl who also remembers. (and Gem plays the game, they need that)

And now grian got second in our seventh season. (Wildlife) now out next season hasn't happened yet but I mean scar team again maybe, he won with scar. Or does double life cancel that out? I don't know. But like he knows, and that's what important.

Yeah so that's a fun little concept for you writers out there. Or just people who like angst (you can't tell me Grian not remembering scar who remembers him isn't a wonderfully sad concept)

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madamevirgo · 10 months ago

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Could i dare request rebecca Ferguson X her younger actress girlfriend? Like she is the new Hollywood face and its always in something doing awesome roles?

And becca goes with her to the oscars to see her winning for the first time and they are so lovey dovey for each other

Promises

Pairing: Rebecca Ferguson x (f!)reader

Words: 3k

Warnings: angst, softness, cheesiness, my writing

A/N: I want you all to know that I immediately started writing this after I finished writing & posting the Lady Jessica one. At around 5am, at its 6pm now. Also, I was going to pair this one with a similar request, but then I got sooo many ideas for this. I loved loved writing this! Thank you for the request :)

I put on my best smile as I stepped in front of the live audience where Jimmy Fallon was waiting for me. I was here to promote my new film, a romcom.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, our first guest tonight Y/n L/n!” I danced my way to the small podium and kissed both of Jimmy’s cheeks, taking the time to blow some kisses to the crowd before settling down on the chair.

“Wow, what an energetic audience,” I said with a laugh as the crowd cheered.

“That’s right! The last time I interviewed you was during COVID.” He realized

“Right, I did it with sweatpants on and from the comfort of my place.” He laughed at that.

“I mean I’ll wear sweatpants next time if you do.” He said, and I extended a hand for a handshake to seal the deal. “Another thing that’s changed is you weren’t an Academy Award Nominee the last time we talked.” And I laughed as the crowd cheered.

“It’s been quite a journey, Jimmy.” I giggled, feeling heat rush to my face.

“I’ll say! Let’s take a look here.” He reached down to grab a file and I leaned over to see what else he was hiding. He swatted me away playfully and I pouted. “Right, so since the last time we met, you appeared in a Marvel production, a role you’re set to reprise. You became a series regular for a book adaptation, appeared in three music videos, starred in a RomCom, attended the Met Gala, and got nominated for 5 awards, including the best leading actress. And still found the time to see me today.” He pretended to be out of breath, making me and the crowd laugh.

“I’ll always have time for you, Jimmy,” I said with a sweet smile.

“See! That’s what I’m talking about. This sweetness that you’re known for, I can’t wait to see it in the RomCom.” the crowd applauded.

“I wouldn’t count on it. My character is quite different from me.” I said secretively. “And that’s all I’ll say about that. Go watch the movie if you want to know more.” I added as he opened his mouth to no doubt get more information.

“Okay, that's fair. But since we’re on the subject of love,” I rolled my eyes at that, knowing where he was going. “Is there a special someone in your life right now? One you’ll be seeing the movie with?” He added devilishly.

“Well, there are multiple loved ones I’ll be seeing the movie with.” This caused the crowd to boo at me and I laughed. “Look, all I know is that I’m very happy right now and not lacking love in my life,” I said with a smile.

“I guess your happiness is what matters ultimately.” He said with a sigh, making me laugh.

“Thanks, Jimmy,” I said as I squeezed his hand softly. The crowd awed

“Alright, enough cheesiness. We’re taking a quick break, and when we come back - Y/n and I will be playing a game.” He said before turning to me to continue the conversation we were having before going on air, as the crew rushed in.

———————

I let out a sigh as I was finally able to take off my heels after a long day, before dropping on the couch in my hotel room. Today was the last day of our press tour. We had just flown in from Paris last night and after an early morning, we spent the day running around New York for interviews. Some of them, I did alone - others with my costar who thankfully was a gem.

Still, it had been an exhausting few weeks, and day - and there was only one thing that I wanted right now. I reached the coffee table where I had dropped my handbag and searched for my phone. I composed a number I knew by heart and waited.

“Hello?” Instantly, my eyes lit up and a smile appeared on my face.

“Hi, honey.” I started as I got comfortable on the couch. “Can I FaceTime you?” As soon as I’d uttered the words, I received a request to switch to video. One I was more than happy to accept.

My smile immediately widened as the face of my girlfriend appeared on the screen. It wasn’t the same as having her with me, but it would have to do for now.

“There you are,” I whispered

“There you are.” She echoed back and we shared a soft smile. From the looks of it, she had just woken up from a nap on set. I recognized her trailer, and I was suddenly aware of the fact that she was in the UK, in a different timezone.

“I’m sorry we didn’t get the chance to speak these past few days,” I said softly

“This is the life we signed up for, Y/n/n.” She said with a soft smile, although her eyes lacked the glint that they usually had. Something was wrong. “I wish we could always be together, but that’s not possible.” She whispered.

This caused me to frown. “Rex? What’s this about? This is only a busy time in our lives, and frankly, we’ve overcome bigger issues.” I said. “You’re done promoting Dune: Part 2, and you’ll finish filming Silo soon. After that, we’ll have some time to ourselves before the crazy starts back again. We just have to get through award season and then things will settle.” I said convincingly.

“You’re right. It’s just - I was watching your interviews and it sucked to see you avoiding all questions regarding your love life. With the distance, it kinda feels like we’re not together anymore.” She sighs and suddenly lets out a humourless laugh. “This is so stupid, we’ve been dating for two, almost three years! I shouldn’t be so bothered by the distance. I must be getting my fucking period or something.”

“Rebecca,” I say as my voice breaks. I had no idea she felt like that and seeing her so distraught, broke my heart.

“I’m sorry, honey.” She says with that same humourless laugh that I despise. It doesn’t hold a candle to her real one. “I guess the long filming hours and going back and forth between Silo and promoting Dune has gotten to me more than I thought.” She sighs and rubs her eyes.

“Maybe I could-” I’m interrupted by a knock on her trailer door. As she goes to open it, I hear voices, before she reappears on the screen, to end the call no doubt.

“I’m sorry baby, they’re waiting for me in the writers’ room. I’ll talk to you later, ya?” I nod softly, the lump in my throat preventing me from speaking. She smiles at me before ending the call.

As I stare at the hotel’s ceiling, I make a decision.

———-

The second I step outside the airport, I’m greeted by the seemingly permanent English rain. It didn’t take me long, after my call with Rebecca had ended to get my things in order and get on a flight to the UK, where she was filming.

Thankfully, the press tour for my movie had ended, because that would have put me in a very difficult situation, what with having to cancel some appearances. My girlfriend was sad, and nothing was going to stop me from getting to her.

As I got into the cab that my assistant had arranged for me, I felt grateful that no reporters were around to hound me. It was still quite early and my disguise of a hoodie and sunglasses protected me long enough from the sight of the few of them lingering around.

I didn’t spend much time at the hotel. Just enough for a shower and a change of clothes, before I was once again back on the road towards her filming location. I was let into the premises without too much of a hassle. I had the foresight to reach out to Rex’s assistant on the flight over and she had been able to grant me access, and before long I was being led to my girlfriend’s trailer by her assistant.

“She just finished filming so she’s already in her trailer. I didn’t tell her you were coming as you asked, so she’ll be quite surprised.” She talked quietly.

It was still early morning on set, some people were either starting to wake up or getting in from filming all night.

“How has she been doing?” I had a vague idea, but I wanted to hear it from someone who was with her when I couldn’t.

“She’s been exhausting herself a lot. The press tour for Dune is over, but she’s still doing a lot with filming and being an executive director here.” She said sadly, and I nodded. “I’m glad you’re here Y/n. It’ll do her good to see you. I cleared her schedule for the day, so you could at least get some rest together. I know you’ve been busy too. I spoke to your assistant.” She said sternly and I rolled my eyes. These two.

We arrived at the trailer and my heart started beating a little faster. “Thanks, Kelly, I owe you one,” I said to the assistant as I slipped inside the trailer.

It didn’t take me long to find her around the vast camper. She was in bed, seemingly asleep. I approached her quietly and sat on the other side which had been left untouched. The side of the bed I usually slept on at home.

I rubbed her shoulder gently, to not scare her. She opened her eyes softly and looked around, slightly disoriented before settling on me. I smiled.

“Hi, my love,” I whispered. She stared at me for a few seconds, before sitting up and grabbing my face with both hands.

“Y/n/n?” She said with wide eyes. “Are you really here?” She asked, roaming over my face and caressing my cheeks as if to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.

“I’m here, Rex,” I replied with a smile before she latched herself to me in a hug, making me laugh.

“How? Why?” She asked in the crook of my neck.

“You sounded so sad on FaceTime, I had to make sure you were okay. Plus, I missed you - so I grabbed the first flight here.” I explained as I tightened my hug and kissed her forehead.

“Thank you.” She whispered.

“Let’s get some sleep, and then we can talk about what you’re feeling. Okay?” I felt her nod and rearranged our positions so we were lying down. She immediately spooned me.

For the first time in months, we slept together peacefully.

—-------------------------

When I woke up, I felt much more at peace. I slowly opened my eyes with a smile, one which widened when I met the eyes of my girlfriend.

“You’re staring,” I whispered, my smile not leaving my face.

She put a hand on my cheek and caressed softly, before leaning down to put her lips on mine. Once we separated, she put her forehead on mine.

“How are you feeling?” I mumbled, not wanting to break the trance we were in.

“How are you feeling? She mumbled back, and I smiled.

“Better now that I’m here.” she rolled her eyes and scoffed.

“Sap,” she said before taking a break. “Last night, I- It was a lot wasn’t it.” she finished.

“No, you expressing how you feel will never be a lot or too much,” I added hurriedly. “It just kinda felt like you were on the verge of ending things,” I said quietly, I felt my heart beating widely as I held my breath.

“Ending things? Y/n. Y/n/n, look at me.” she said as she grabbed my face in both hands forcing me to look at her. “I. Love. You. and it’s because I love you that I am finding our current situation so hard. Not being able to be with you or have you with me in front of everybody to celebrate our achievements. Or how we have to act single or like we’re just friends. I hate reading about the people they’re linking you to romantically. I just want to scream ‘She’s mine. Back off.’ And it’s kinda killing me.” she said as she leaned against the headboard.

“I am yours,” I said as I grabbed her hands, willing myself not to cry.

“I know baby. Just like I know you understand and feel the same way,” she said as I looked down. We stayed quiet for a moment, thinking of our predicament and what was being stolen from us.

“The Oscars,” I suddenly said with renewed hope, as she looked at me in confusion. “I know we’re both technically going with our own cast - but would you go with me as my date,” I asked before quickly adding. “Unless - maybe our agents are right and we sh-” she interrupted me as I felt the doubt take over.

“They’re not. And we should have never let them silence our love,” she said. “Of course, I’ll go with you. We’ll pose on the red carpet, I’ll kiss you in front of the camera lights and when you win - no one will cheer louder than me,” she said with a wide smile. I was quick to tackle her to the bed, kissing her all over her face.

Her laughter made my heart sing.

—-------------

This was not how I wanted the day to go. I was supposed to wake up bright and early, have some breakfast from her favourite cafe in the city delivered to her hotel room at the same time that she would receive the huge bouquet I had ordered weeks in advance. Then, as we both got ready in our own hotel, we’d be texting like teenagers going on a first date, right until the red carpet. There, I’d see her and rush to her without a care in the world. I would tell her how beautiful she looks and we’d pose for pictures and kiss. Interviewers would have questions about our relationship, and we’d laugh our way through them. Rebecca, answering with her usual charm and wit, and me with heart eyes solely focused on her.

Instead, my flight from Toronto had been delayed and I was rushing to get ready. I wouldn’t make it to the red carpet on time, with this traffic, only being able to slide in as the awards started.

I had spoken to Rex when I landed and obviously, she hadn’t been happy.

“Hi, honey! Where are you, it’s kinda loud,” she said joyfully. I could hear the rushing around as her glam team worked.

“I’m at the airport,” I said and closed my eyes, as there was silence on the other end.

“I’m guessing you’re not going to make it to the red carpet?” she asked, and my lack of answer confirmed the statement. “Of course, it would’ve been too easy. It was stupid to hope th-” She cut herself off and let out a sigh.

“Rex, don’t say that. This is nothing, we still hav-” she interrupted me as I tried to fix things desperately.

“I have to go. I’ll see you there.” and with that, she ended the call.

She hadn’t answered any of my calls or replied to my texts since then. I wanted to believe that they had taken her phone away so they could focus on getting ready, but my anxiety was telling me something else.

The car rolled up to the venue and I was quickly rushed inside and to my seat as the host was in the middle of his opening monologue.

“And here comes Y/n L/n, everyone. She’s nominated for best leading actress tonight, ladies and gentlemen.” the audience clapped and I tried to calm my heart as my face appeared on the big screens. But the host wasn’t quite done with me, yet. “Doesn’t she look beautiful? Straight from a fairytale. Although, if I recall correctly, Cinderella rushed out of the ball, not to it.” he said as the audience laughed and I felt myself wanting to die.

Thankfully he moved on, and the ceremony started. I was almost breaking my neck trying to find Rebecca, and when I did, I tried to catch her eyes - to convey how sorry I was. But she never glanced my way. I was so lost in thought that I would have missed my category coming up if it wasn’t for my costar grabbing my hand in support.

I held my breath as the nominees were listed. And when I heard my name being called, I felt myself freeze, before being lifted in a hug and passed around from one costar to another. I willed myself to put one foot in front of another as I approached the podium under the congratulations and applause.

I was almost to the stage when I glanced left and saw Rebecca’s face with a wide smile, clapping widely. That’s one promise that had been kept today.

She looked beautiful, and it was as if I were in a trance as I approached her. Before I knew it, I was standing in front of her. She looked at me with a soft smile and with anticipation in her eyes, and that was all the invitation I needed to kiss her in front of all of Hollywood. That was another promise kept.

And later on, when I posed for pictures with my Oscar and I danced at the after party, she was right there with me, as we kept our promises to each other.

—-------------

“Hi, I’m Y/n L/n and I’ll be reading your tweets,” I said with a smile as I reached into the fish bowl for the first one.

“Okay, this one is from @lesbianstan2000: Do you think Rebecca Ferguson uses The Voice on Y/n L/n?” I read before letting out a laugh. “She doesn’t need to. I’ll happily do whatever she asks.” I say as I wink into the camera.

#madamevirgowrites #dune #dune part two #lady jessica #lady jessica x reader #rebecca ferguson #rebecca ferguson x reader

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gingerteafairy · 3 days ago

Text

𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐜𝐡 (𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐳𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐨 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

"I love you." And then he froze. No cigarette, drug, morphine or any crutch could compare to that moment. It was the first time in years he felt peace.

tags: angst, anxiety, depression, drugs. word count: 810

0:31

Carmy often complained about how his apartment felt like a asylum, the closest thing to hell. Everything seemed out of place, disorganized, meaningless. Empty.

He needed to redecorate.

The bookshelf looked like something you'd find in a junkyard, piled high with trash. His clothes were scattered everywhere, shoes flipped upside down. The smell of his sheets and the clothes he had worn for days, even though they were past the point of being clean. Sometimes, the plumbing would fail, and he'd have to shout in frustration and accept yet another day without a shower.

01:29

He needed to move.

None of this felt real, normal. His parents fought constantly, his siblings complained, and his entire life seemed better on the other side.

He, himself, seemed better outside.

Everything looked perfect from the outside, with his talent and all the praise he received, even amidst the constant chaos of the restaurant—the shouting, the fights that made him roll his eyes. Nothing made sense.

2:00 AM

He needed a new life.

You: Carmy, I’m sorry. I fell asleep.

Her message interrupted his spiraling thoughts, forcing him to swallow hard and regain his composure.

Carmy: It’s fine. Don’t worry. I was still awake.

You: What happened?

The message glowed on his screen, read only a few minutes ago. She was waiting for a response, nervous, in another city. Just as messy as he was.

Carmy: Same old crap. Don’t worry about it.

He replied, breathing heavily, massaging his temples. His hair was a mess, as it always was in his usual chaos. He looked so beautiful, even in the disarray.

I should get therapy.

02:45

Carmy: One day, I’ll get out of here. One day, I’ll change all of this. I need you. I’m sorry for this.

You: Don’t apologize. Everything will be okay, one day. For both of us.

And so, another night passed. The day came and went, and the night lingered longer than it should. Like a torment that never quite leaves. Chef, Sugar, Mom, Sydney, Jimmy, Richie, Mike. What was wrong?

It was all so confusing, even the cars in Chicago seemed to move slower through his fogged mind. His head felt submerged underwater, the lack of oxygen warping his nervous system. Anxiety. How much air does someone need to stay afloat?

I should quit smoking.

"You know, I’ve always hated smokers," she started, her voice soft, a faint laugh following her words.

Carmy glanced at her, subconsciously lowering his cigarette as guilt weighed in his eyes. "If it bothers you, I can stop…"

"I’d look at those people with disgust, judging them, like I was better than them," she continued, her gaze distant, a sad smile tugging at her lips—one Carmy had learned to appreciate, despite its melancholy. She was broke, like him."I was so stupid. They didn’t deserve that."

"So what made you change your mind?" he asked, hesitant.

"I didn’t," she added, drawing a laugh from him. "Cigarettes are terrible, but at least they’re not as miserable as vaping or using needles."

"To the classics," he joked, raising his cigarette like a champagne glass, placing it poetically between his cracked lips, the cold air and dehydration of the night evident.

"But..." She took a breath, the warmth of her exhale mixing with the cheap cocoa butter on her lips. "You’re the only exception."

He smiled weakly. Her hair bounced as she looked at him, golden curls, eyes a deep blue—matching the sorrow of the world reflected in his tired gaze. Carmy was angelic, celestial. No image or sculpture could truly capture his beauty. That pure innocence, which wasn’t sensual but somehow carried desire.

"Thank you." He smiled, finishing his last drag before tossing the cigarette to the ground and stomping it out with his foot. "But I really should quit. I’m just using it as a crutch."

"I can’t judge you. I buy expensive skincare, thinking it’ll make up for a good night’s sleep and healthy food." She joked, and he laughed—just for a second, everything felt right. "Carmy."

"What?" He looked at her, the neon lights from The Bear shining on her face. Two dreams collided in that moment, competing for space in his heart. Drowning in the blue glow of the city’s decorations.

"I love you."

And then he froze. Like the storm inside him had suddenly calmed, as if he were floating on still waters. No cigarette, drug, morphine or any crutch could compare to that moment. The world stopped. It was the first time in years he felt peace.

"I love you too. A lot."

When he was with her, everything felt perfect. This was where he wanted to be. For the first time, he didn’t want to run from himself anymore, because she was there to embrace his mess. And that was what made Carmy Berzatto, Carmy.

taglist:

@aquazero divider

#x reader #reader insert #fanfic #imagine #carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #carmy x reader #carmy x you #carmy x fem!reader #carmy x y/n #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x female reader #the bear #carmy i love you #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you

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variety-fangirl · 6 months ago

Text

Based off this ask:

Yours / Jimmy Keene x fem!reader:

Summary: inspo above ^ You and Jimmy had met in highschool, been friends for many years and dated not long after. Everything was perfect and he'd proposed after three years together. Was being the key here, because you hadn't expected to be engaged for a year and planning your wedding, only to find out you were 16 weeks pregnant with Jimmy's baby and him being arrested not long after before you had a chance to tell him. And if that wasn't bad enough, he pushes you away whilst in prison.

Warnings: angst which turns into fluff, happy ending. Not much (swearing, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of breast feeding, and general stresses of being a single mother semi-alone.)

Aurthor's Note: I'm back my loves! God has it been long overdue and how I have missed writing! College had been extremely busy and took up so much of my time, writing essays 3-5 times a week with little free time genuinely took all the joy out of wanting to write in my free time (when normally I always look forward to it and can't wait for the weekend to come so I can write). Months of non-stop work and a lack of free time made things so hard and I didn't want to do anything really. But! Now that college is finished, I am hoping to now return :D Yay! How I have missed it and you guys. Thank you to those who have been paitient, I know it sucks. Thank you for requesting, I do apologise that this took so long but I hope you read it and enjoy it all the same! As always, thank you guys for reading! It means the world to me, and I hope you guys enjoy! I have some exciting writing coming up! Liking, reblogging, and commenting really helps me out.

Plus note- I had started this earlier but I become quite unwell :( so it took me longer to get this done than before.

Word count: 2.7k

You had always thought your life was relatively normal. You had a lovely home, friends, a family, a fiance, etc... Nothing out of the ordinary, the same as most had. That was until your whole world got wiped out from under you, twofold. They always told you marriage was the hard part, that that would be where you had to put work in, but they failed to mention what could happen before that. The part no one had seen coming. That day in the courthouse, when Jimmy had reassured you all would be well and he wouldn't be gone long, he hadn't counted for the hard part either.

10 years.

10 fucking years he had been sentenced to. 10 years you would have to be without him and raising your baby alone. Not only would you lose him but your child would too, without ever even knowing him.

Even with him leaving for that long, you wouldn't move on or be with another. Jimmy was and is your everything, your soulmate and the one you were meant to be with. Granted, when you'd talked about and planned your future together over the years, you'd envisioned it side by side in your loving home. Not with him spending the next decade in prison, away from you and your baby.

When you'd heard those words come out of the judge's mouth and witnessed as the blood drained from Jimmy's face, the once smug and confident look wiping off his face instantly, you broke. If you hadn't already been sitting, you'd have collapsed under the shock and destruction that took over you like a boulder. Jimmy screamed your name as he'd been dragged away kicking and yelling, the tears pouring down your face as you desperately attempted to catch your breath. You couldn't, no matter how hard you'd tried, you were having a panic attack in the courthouse.

Jimmy's father had led you into the cool fresh air and held your hair back as you'd heaved and vomited all over the floor. He'd rubbed your back and said soothing, comforting, kind words to try and calm you down. Jimmy had driven you there, so you drove his car back. You all went to Jimmy's father's house to discuss what to do. You devised a plan on how everything would work and how best to support Jimmy through it. You had all cried together, huddled in a pile of supportive comfort to one another. It had helped you all to calm down enough but it didn't lessen or take away the raging knot of sorrow in your chest. The tight pressure that has refused to leave you, even to this day.

You had all agreed to take turns visiting Jimmy and provide him with anything he needed to make the difficult transition easier. But, to your absolute horror, Jimmy refused any of you to see him whilst in prison. You hadn't spoken to him, only heard the words from his father. He only spoke to his father on the phone. He allowed his father to visit him once in the beginning, in which he'd written you a letter for his father to give you.

The letter had been simple, straightforward and had left no room for argument. He had simply stated that he didn't want to keep you waiting so he was letting you go, that putting you through ten years of waiting was cruel and that he would always love you.

He'd left you. After everything, he had left you before you could tell him you were pregnant with his child.

You'd wanted to tell him so badly, but he wouldn't allow you to. You refused to have his father tell the father of your child and fiance that he was having a baby with the woman he was trying to push away. So, you'd tried to write him letters. Five in fact. Telling him about the baby and the fact that you wouldn't let him do this but he wouldn't accept them. He either kept them unopened or threw them away. You'd asked his father but he said he hadn't opened them and wouldn't.

You had told his father and stepmother the news, wanting to share it with someone and they had been so happy for you. They begged to tell him but understood that when you refused, it was something you wanted to share with him. So, you'd kept writing him letters with details about your pregnancy, provided pictures of your sonograms, and chatted about baby names. Hoping that one day he would open them and contact you on the number you provided.

But the call never came.

Your due date approached and arrived, and you gave birth to a beautiful and healthy baby boy. He was a mirror of Jimmy, a spit of his father in every way. He was beautiful. Jimmy's parents had been there to support you every step of the way, and you'd stayed with them for the first three months after you'd given birth. You had struggled desperately on your own and hadn't coped with the loneliness, so they had offered you to stay with them for as long as you needed. And honestly, they had loved it anyway.

Being a single mother over the coming months alone had been an adjustment period and a difficult one at that. You hadn't thought months and months ago when you'd found out you were pregnant, that you would have been doing it by yourself. You had always envisioned that when the time came, you would be doing it together. With Jimmy, your beloved, by your side. And yet here you were with a toddler, raising him by yourself.

You'd been angry in the beginning with Jimmy, wishing he hadn't been so stupid but it quickly had turned into anguish and sadness. Night after night as your baby slept beside you, you'd wonder how he was doing in prison. Wondering how he was managing, hoping he wasn't hurt or being hurt by others. You knew Jimmy was more than capable and could take care of himself, but that didn't mean that you didn't still worry for his safety and wellbeing.

You looked down at your son and wondered how different things would have been had Jimmy been by your side raising your son together. How sad you felt for the small things Jimmy had already missed. Your pregnancy and the bonding, the birth of his son and being by your side to support you inside of his parents, the first night home, the first feed, the first bath, etc... All the little things that bonded you to your baby and the precious memories those hold.

Throughout the months you had shown your baby boy pictures of his father and chatted to him about stories of Jimmy, even though you knew he didn't fully comprehend or understand what you were saying, you still felt it was important. You repeated 'da da' to the photos of Jimmy, trying to help your son associate his father with the photo, so he would know who he was. Eventually, he started babbling 'da da' at the photo on his own as the months went on. It made you smile bittersweetly that he seemed to recognise him in some ways at least.

A few weeks after your son had turned eleven months, you found out from Jimmy's father that he would be released from prison due to a secret deal he'd made with investigators for information about a serial killer's victims, in which the serial killer was in the prison with Jimmy. To say you were shocked was an understatement. Not only did you still not come to the acceptance that Jimmy would be gone for ten years, but you now had to accept and wrap your head around that he would be released a week from now. Just before your son turned 1 year old.

You had instantly burst into tears. Tears of confusion, relief, happiness, and worry. Jimmy had rejected you in more ways than one. He rejected you as his partner and took the option of choice away from you, as a way of trying to protect you but in doing so had hurt you more. He rejected the promise he had made to you, in which you would be together until you both died. He rejected your son, without even knowing him or the fact he was doing it because he refused to even give you the respect of speaking to you. And he rejected you and your feelings. He pushed you and your baby away.

You had asked his father to pick Jimmy up on the day of his release, for both obvious and selfish reasons, and asked that he prepare Jimmy for things to be different when he arrives home. But not to mention your son, you would do that. You had also asked his father to tell Jimmy that you were still at your home and wanted to talk when he arrived. He said he would get Jimmy to text you from his phone when they were close, so to give you enough time to prepare for his arrival.

You prepared some tea for yourself to calm down, fed your son and changed him, cleaned a little and waited anxiously for the text. You had stared furiously at your phone for that text. You'd distracted yourself by telling your adorable son that his father was coming home, hoping your baby would calm you down enough. You wondered if he would recognise him when he came through the door. And, how Jimmy would react when he sees the mini version of him.

Twenty minutes later, Jimmy and his father are outside your home, slowly making their way inside. You had chosen to stand in the hall, facing the door with your son in your arms, waiting patiently but anxiously for them to walk through the door. You had let them know to knock and then walk inside on their own accord.

The door opened slowly, so agonisingly slow and quietly, that you could hear and feel your heartbeat around you. Your breathing laboured in anxiety and stress. But the second you laid eyes on Jimmy, it felt like your world was complete. The man you love was standing in front of you in the open doorway once more with a look of utter shock on his face. He was looking at you and it felt like time stopped for a moment. You both stared wide-eyed at one another, not uttering a word.

That was until your son squealed in annoyance that no one was paying attention to him. He fussed to be put down, putting up a fight against you, so you put him down to do as he pleased. What you didn't expect though, was for your son to crawl over to Jimmy babbling 'dadada' over and over, until he was at Jimmy's feet. He squealed in happiness as he raised his arms and did grabby hands towards Jimmy, indicating he wanted to be picked up.

Jimmy looked at you as if asking for permission. You nodded and watched as Jimmy picked him up. Your son squealed whilst continuing to babble about 'dadada' as he grabbed Jimmy's face. You finally decide to speak, to break the awkward silence from everyone. "Jimmy, meet your son Tyler. Tyler sweetie, meet your daddy." You sweetly cooed the end to your son, introducing the two. Jimmy looked at your son in awe as he gently ran a finger down his cute chubby cheek.

"Baby? How? I have so many questions." Jimmy questions in both shock and awe, smiling when Tyler babbles nonsense at him and happily waves his arms about. You smiled at the scene in front of you and nodded, "I showed him pictures of you and said 'da da' at it. To help him recognise you. Granted I didn't know you would be released so soon and didn't expect him to pick it up so soon. But I'm glad he seems to recognise you. Shall we sit so I can explain?"

You invite them both in, watching with amusement and melting inside as Jimmy carefully watches his every step, looking downward as he moves into the living room with you. James stepped back, "I'll leave you pair to talk, I'll come by later sweetheart." You nodded appreciatively and hugged him before joining Jimmy.

You sit down with Jimmy on the couch, sitting Tyler on your lap as you face Jimmy. It was dinner time, so you pulled out your breast to feed Tyler. "Oh shit! I'll look away..." Jimmy coughed and turned away quickly as you situated Tyler comfortably to eat. You giggled to yourself, "C'mon Jim. It's nothing you haven't seen before. Besides, technically we didn't break up, so..." You cleared your throat uncomfortably, and Jimmy turned to look at you with a confused expression.

You decided to just get on with explaining, to make things more clearer for him. "I was already pregnant before you got arrested but I only found out a week before. I had missed my period and decided to just take a test to be sure and found out. I was going to tell you but then everything turned into chaos and you shut me out. I wrote you letters, so many letters Jim, explaining that we were expecting and for you to please call me or let me visit, but you never replied..." You took a deep breath, looking away for a moment.

"But I never stopped writing them. I put important stuff in there FIY, if you want to be caught up properly." You looked down and stroked your son's cheek as you spoke the next part, it hurt too much to say whilst looking at Jimmy. "I wanted to be there for you, you know? To support you through it and introduce you to our child but you refused to even speak to me. Like, what the fuck Jim? A letter?! I had no choice but to tell you about my pregnancy through letters because you gave me no other choice but you wouldn't even give me the decency of trying to break up with me in person?" You tried to stay calm to not disturb Tyler but you were hurt and raised your voice slightly.

You lifted your head to look at Jimmy when you heard him groan, "Shit, I'm so fucking sorry y/n. I fucked everything so badly with you and our child." Jimmy placed his head in his hands, "Wait, you said 'trying to break up'?" He lifted his head in question with tears in his eyes, pulling at your heartstrings. You nodded, "I did." He looked at you with such lost confusion that you rolled your eyes, "What? You thought I was going to let you break up with me from prison through a letter? Absolutely not."

"So... We are still technically together then?" He questions with a hopeful look, his eyes wide. You smile, "technically yes, but we aren't just going to go back to normal. If you still want this, us, then you'll have to make it up to me for your stupidity." Jimmy nods happily with a smile before looking down at your son. "I'll make it up to you, both of you. I promise."

Jimmy already looked besotted with Tyler, "he's a spit of you, isn't he?" You question with a smile. Jimmy nods, "a proper mini-me." He whispers as he places his finger between Tyler's, and grins proudly when Tyler grips them back. You smile down at the pair, feeling overwhelmed and happy.

Twenty minutes later, Tyler is fed and down for a nap in your arms happily. Jimmy is sitting beside you on the couch reading each of the letters you sent him from the beginng, saying he didn't want to waste any time and be caught up with everything he missed so he could adjust to being home and a father. You nodded and just simply watched, answering any questions he had or commenting on certain parts for further clarity. All while you had your head on his shoulder.

After much inner turmoil and encouragement from you, Jimmy placed his arm around your shoulder and hugged you and your son whilst reading. Eventually, his parents came by to see you all, to which you were all overcome with emotions and cried together whilst laughing at how ridiculous you all looked. Jimmy refused to move from either of your or Tyler's sides the whole time. And for the first time in almost a year, you finally felt content and not alone.

#y/n #fluff #angst #jimmy keene #jimmy keene x reader #black bird #pregnancy

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juceynightmare · 1 year ago

Text

dating 101 (18+) part 28 - cody rhodes x reader

my masterlist

dating 101 (18+) masterlist

pairing(s): cody rhodes x fem!reader, roman reigns x fem!reader, austin theory x fem!reader

warning(s): swearing

genre(s): college!au, slow burn, fluff, angst

|| previous part || next part ||

if y/n didn’t dig herself a deeper hole yesterday, she certainly had breached earth’s core at this point. with her head tilted down and austin chuckling under his breath, y/n desperately tried not to make eye contact with roman who was sat at the table conveniently right behind austin and directly in her eyesight. the tension was so thick that y/n swore she was feeling lightheaded from lack of oxygen.

“can they hurry up with the food?” she whispered, feeling scared that they were trying to listen in on her and austin’s conversation.

“how about i lean over, give you a nice kiss, and really give them something to talk about?” austin teased her, biting back a laugh when she flipped him off.

it was austin and y/n day, much like how they used to have in high school whenever they didn’t want to deal with their parents being all lovey dovey in front of them. although cody and ted wished they could have accompanied them when they invited them to join in, cody had a midterm that day and ted made plans with another friend group in between his classes. that left y/n taking austin everywhere around town, showing him all her favorite places and stopping by a few stores downtown to window shop. eventually, they grew hungry and decided to grab lunch at a quaint little hawaiian barbeque restaurant. y/n just hadn’t accounted for the fact that there was a chance that she’d end up seeing roman while she was out with austin.

“do that and i’ll actually kill you.” she grunted, locking eyes with austin and catching his playful gaze.

“i’m sure cody would get to me first.” he mused. just then, another number was called out by the workers and the two of them checked their receipt. “i’ll get it.” austin offered once he realized it was their food, quickly snatching the receipt off the table and getting up before y/n could even process that it was their number that was called out.

this also meant that the barrier between her and roman was gone, and y/n wished she had grabbed the receipt first before she checked if it was their food. she was instantly met with the sight of roman, jimmy, and jey all staring at her as if she’d grown a second head. and suddenly, jimmy was nudging roman and roman was standing up. but before roman could even take a step towards y/n, austin was quickly returning with their food.

austin sat himself back down in his chair, clearly having seen the way roman was just about to invite himself to the table and take austin’s spot. he took their food out of the bag, opening each container to check their contents before setting y/n’s food in front of her. “and your spam musubi, m’lady.” he continued, setting another smaller container in front of her along with her can of passion fruit hawaiian sun. he hummed happily as he handed her the utensils and set the bag aside so that he could open up his box. austin waited until y/n took her first bite before he did. a smile that he was unable to hide crept up on his face as he finally got food into his system, and the same smile reflected on y/n’s own features.

but the failed attempts at hushed whispers behind him were beginning to irritate him. although he had found it humorous at first, austin wasn’t a stranger to times when y/n was visibly uncomfortable. suddenly, austin set his utensils down and turned around in his seat to face the men. “can you just cool it for one day? she’ll talk to you later. but right now, i’m just trying to enjoy a nice lunch with my step-sister.” he asked them, catching a glimpse at their embarrassed expressions before turning back around and being met by y/n’s shocked one. “eat, baby. they’ll stop talking about us and assuming shit if they know what’s good for them.” he addressed her as he pulled up the sleeves of his shirt as a “subtle” warning to the men.

it seemed to work, because when jey stood up to get their own food and returned with them, the other men seemed to slip back into their own conversation that wasn’t focused on who y/n was with. y/n visibly relaxed, her tense shoulders easing out against her frame as she happily began to eat. “thanks.” she muttered in between bites, and this time, austin was biting back a laugh at how she was practically inhaling her food.

he forgot she had a tendency to stress eat.

“no worries. some people just need to learn to mind their own business, you know?” austin replied, this time purposely keeping his voice low so that they couldn’t hear him. he knew that if they had heard what he said, they most certainly woulnd’t be getting out of the restaurant without a confrontration.

“i don’t even know what i’m going to say to him before our lab tomorrow. like, oh hey! yeah, it’s not you, it’s me.” she huffed out as austin handed her a napkin, quickly thanking him before wiping her mouth with the napkin.

“see, that phrase only works if it’s not you, though. i don’t make the roles, i simply enforce them.” austin said, watching as she struggled to open up can before finally reaching over and opening it for her. “god, are you this worked up over it? you’re stuffing your face like crazy and you can’t even open up a can.”

“yes!” she said, rather loudly because it earned them the stares from the other patrons in the restaurant and not just roman, jimmy, and jey. she looked around with an embarrassed expression and waited until everyone went back to their own meals. “sorry. as i was saying, it’s not exactly a comfortable and easy conversation to have.” she muttered, taking a long sip from her drink the same time that austin drank his water.

they had fallen back into their own rhythm easily. y/n was talking to austin as if the centerpiece of her worries wasn’t sitting just directly behind him. in that moment, it was just y/n and austin in the world, and although they may not be out in a random field staring up at the stars and talking about their worries in life, somehow the hawaiian barbeque restaurant seemed to transport them to that place.

austin shrugged his shoulders, setting down his cup before picking up his utensils again. “rip off the bandaid. always easiest that way. besides, it’s not like you’re hesitating about who you’re choosing. it’s pretty obvious who you’re going to pursue.” he told her, his tone bordering an ‘i told you so’ manner that had y/n wanting to reach over and smack austin.

“well, yeah but i don’t feel good about leading him on. it’s not like i meant to do it, you know? i’m just stupid.” she muttered, wiping down her hands before reaching for her spam musubi. “want a bite?” she asked, holding the food out for austin.

he leaned over, taking a bite before sitting back in his chair. he chewed his food, and watched as y/n seemed to delve deep in her own thoughts. he spoke after swallowing his food, “we’re not having this same conversation, y/n.” he went back to eating his own food, muttering lowly, “impact matters more than intention. but you can’t change anything about that either. you just have to learn from it, baby. and i know you. you’ll bounce back from this, you’ve come back from worse, and this time, you have cody.”

she smiled apologetically at austin, reminding herself that maybe she was getting a bit repetitive with her own thoughts. she was just thankful that austin didn’t seem to mind still reassuring her in the end, no matter how many times he had to hear it. the two continued to eat their food, moving on from their previous conversation and simply taking the time to catch up now that they were both sober. eventually, their food was done but neither of them moved from their seats, leaning against their crossed forearms on the table to lean towards each other and continue their conversation.

she was so enamored with her conversation with austin that she hadn’t even realized roman, jimmy, and jey had all left soon after they finished eating. jimmy and jey had tried to wave their goodbyes to her, but roman had simply tugged them away before y/n could even look in their direction.

her phone buzzing was what cut their conversation short, and one glance at her phone let her know that ted was calling her. she showed the contact to austin, who nodded his head as if letting her know to answer it, before sitting back in his seat and fishing out his own phone so he could scroll through social media while she took the call.

“hello?” she answered, pressing the phone against her ear.

“you and austin done eating?” ted asked. there was an odd tone to his voice, one that y/n hadn’t ever heard before. he sounded as though he was trying to stay calm and collected, but y/n could just tell that he was bottling up something like anger.

“yeah, we’re probably going to head back to the dorms after this and nap. i’m about 5 minutes away from a food coma. why, what’s up?” she asked, already beginning to put her trash into the plastic bag. austin followed her, his eyebrow cocked up in question at her words.

“stay away from roman.” ted warned her.

she was taken aback by ted’s sudden words. she expected this type of behavior from cody, but ted? there wasn’t a reason for ted to be telling her to stay away from roman - after all, ted wasn’t the one that was involved in their drama like that. it was as if ted could feel her confusion through the phone, and answered her next question before she could even ask him.

“cody asked randy if he said anything to him while blackout drunk. it’s pretty bad and you need to be told everything in person.” ted sighed, still trying to stay calm and collected over the phone.

“i’ll fucking kill him!” cody’s voice suddenly rang in the background, and from what y/n could only assume by the ruffling sounds over the phone, cody had pulled the phone from ted. “sweetheart, you won't believe the shit i just fucking learned. i'm going to shove my foot so far up roman's ass for thinking he can just pull this shit on you.”

her mouth hung open in shock, and before y/n could even let her confusion be known, ted was already back on the phone. “don’t worry about that for now. knock once you’re here and we’ll tell you everything. it’s cool if you bring austin along. love you.”

before she could even say bye, the call was already over and y/n was left with staring up into austin’s concerned gaze. she was so captivated by the strange phone call that she wasn’t even aware that austin had thrown out their trash for her and was standing up beside her.

“everything alright?” he asked her, holding his hand out for her to take and guiding her out of her seat once she did so.

“the boys have something to tell me. they said you could come along.” she answered.

austin simply nodded his head, making sure they didn’t leave anything on the table or their seats before he was already leading y/n out of the restaurant. “let’s go, baby. sounded pretty bad from all the yelling i heard over the phone. best we get there as soon as possible.”

|| next part ||

#cody rhodes x reader #cody rhodes #cody rhodes fanfiction #cody rhodes imagine #wwe x reader #wwe #wwe fanfiction #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns imagine

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frozenjokes · 5 months ago

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Hey, I binged read your cubscar(ian) hotguy au

And I LOVED it,

Cub's characterization is so precious, he's so autistic to me (I'm autistic so I kin heavily) the way you write him, chef's kiss and all that. Is Cub Demi? xx

Scar is so strong and yet so broken but he doesn't know it yet, I'm so glad he's in therapy now <3. I love that you wrote him this way, he's disabled (just like me) but he's not a child, he's whimsy but so life smart, I value so much when authors write him like this and his plurality is very relatable <3. And his friendship with Mumbo <3

Grian, well he's just so real, his need for a job ever tho Cub was happy looking out for him <3, his friendship just reconnecting with Mumbo so easily, warmth. I love how self aware he is, and the angst you wrote for him is heart strings shattering I loved.

Cub and Grian's relationship ahhhhh yessss. The commitment and devotion, how they are so connected they didn't notice it sliding from platonic to romantic. This just IS for me.

Cub and Scar, well (yes again 🤣) they are so sweet, and Cub holds 51% of the cards lol but Scar's 49% is really doing things for Cub wink wink. Some of the reasoning behind Cub's love is being loved. And Scar loving him because of his round edges and softness 🥹

Scar and Grian. I hope the flowers he got for them were poppies and lilacs /lh /nf; Scar's fear because of his sharp edges, Scar in other works has his weakness but he can always find in in himself to want to protect Grian almost as a superior?, but you write Scar so vulnerable and equal to Grian. They are enemies to frenemies to ... But really it's caused by the lack of knowing, eachother and their personal experiences. Again Scar and his plural view of people <3 I think Grian thought of Scar as stronger emotionally, physically, mentally then Scar ever was, and Grian used him because of this misconception. I'm glad they're getting there, truly. Did Grian feel dejected? when Scar didn't help with his wings? Angst <3

thank you!!! Cub could be Demi. So could Grian! They can be whatever your heart desires. Personally I don’t care to label any of them because it isn’t very important to me. I do think Cub would refer to both Scar and Grian has his friends even after years of being together and it drives Scar absolutely nuts. Why are you doing that. What do you Mean. Cub it’s been twenty years you can introduce me as your boyfriend I Promise no one here is going to judge you and cub just goes: ? oh right. and then he never does that. the word friend just comes easier. it’s cozy.

It’s very silly to me you pointed out scar’s friendship with Mumbo because they are not friends scar is Coping. /silly. I actually forget very often I write a lot of angst of these characters because that’s just not really how my brain categorizes turmoil. It’s always a jumpscare to see it pointed out /light hearted, joking. funniest instance of this happening 🔽

(from chapter two of the Jimmy decked out fic)

I was on call with a friend while reading this for the first time and for the life of me I Could Not think of what /nf meant and he didn’t know either so we came up with some ideas: NOT FUNNY. no fingers. non fungible. nut fart. NO FUN. no friends. Nice feet. never forget. nice flowers. new friend! NOT FAIR

it means not forced. we had to look it up LMAO /silly silly silly. thank you for the laughs

Grian thought of scar as a piece of shit self absorbed celebrity and this is true however it’s not everything. inside is a deeply, deeply, extremely deeply, unimaginably kicked puppy. he’s sad and pathetic and has big wet eyes. also he cares.

Grian wasn’t too affected by Scar’s not wanting to touch his wings, and in general the experience was a little more overwhelmingly confusing? Neither he nor Cub expected him to have such a strong reaction, especially when things between all three of them are getting better, but Scar is still carrying the weight of a lot of Grian’s poor treatment of him for weeks on end, and even though Scar’s forgiven him and understands where he was coming from, those aren’t things you can just brush off, especially when many of Grian’s gestures (good and bad) are sweeping and intense and unpredictable, and people pleasing for someone as unstable as that (less so now, but before it was bad) is Extremely Stressful. dealing with cuteguy (evil version) for months beforehand Did Not Help. there’s a reason Scar views Grian as Sharp and that’s because they have both beat the piss out of each other hundreds of times.

To a point Grian is aware of this. It’s a thing he’s discussed in therapy a thousand times, and something he had to confront directly with Jimmy. In his eyes, his friendship with Scar (despite blunders on both sides) is an act of Scar’s good will towards him as given with Scar’s forgiveness, and if Scar is having problems, then it’s not really something Grian can hold against him. Obviously that doesn’t stop feelings from being hurt, but this was more a result of The Panic Attack than the wing touching refusal. Which Grian dealt with by Pushing Minigolf Pushing Pushing Pushing Pushing. Grian’s reaction to guilt and/or rejection is I NEED TO MAKE UP FOR THIS RIGHT MEOW!!!!! and in doing so often fails miserably to read the room, which is why Cub steps in in that particular instance.

as far as wings though, if I were Grian, scar would be The Last Person I want touching them. Clumsiest motherfucker alive who in the case of this au, tends to be rougher with his affection because he literally can not tell what is too little or too much. Having someone nervous at your back probably isn’t a great feeling either, and for an activity that’s supposed to be relaxing, Cub brings a Much steadier aura. Cub also has the capacity to focus. Scar would probably need at least three other sources of stimulation to do a good job. And it would still hurt. Regular wing grooming is not supposed to hurt 💔

my rambling service comes free, well, perhaps at a small cost of a seemingly benign question. normal about her ocs frozenjokes back at it again

#hermitcraft #gtws #grian #cubfan135 #goodtimeswithscar #hermitshipping #asks #cubscarian #desert duo #convexian #grub #cubrian

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yeahiamjustalittleguy · 2 years ago

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Thanks!! Could u do a team rancher x dsmp reader where, during the hermitcraft and empires crossover, the reader somehow ends up in either empires or hermitcraft and sees Jimmy and Tango and remembers them from double life (the three of them were soulmates)

A little bit of angst/comfort where reader doesnt want to go back to the dsmp but they have to because dream has them on a wanted poster and he would travel through worlds and destroy them just to find reader and they dont want hermitcraft or empires getting destroyed because of them

CAN I JUST SAY OKAY.... Ranchers are the love of my life. I love them so deeply. I never watched jimmys pov of anything before double life. They got a grasp on me man..

Warnings: Angst, no happy ending and mentions of DSMP which is a horror in itself lol

____________________________________________

The last thing you remembered was the stinging sensation of withering, as you hid in a closed off room in a nether fortress, trying to not die. Then there was purple, and then nothing. It didn’t explain what was happening, but it wasn’t that long since you had entered a new SMP and you knew what that felt like, so you instinctively knew that when you awoke you were somewhere else. In a new world. Truth be told, the revelation came as a welcomed surprise. The DSMP was a hard place and it had never really suited you all that well. Your soul was too soft for it, many had told you. That’s why all your friends and family had been surprised when you had accepted the invitation to the double life server. Although it was more lighthearted than the DSMP, it was still known for violence and bloodshed. You’d never tell them, but you’d give anything to leave the DSMP. You didn’t care what server had invited you, it didn’t matter what double life was, you took the invite in a heartbeat. Turns out double life had been the best experience of your life too. You’d buried the feelings of why, never telling anyone on the DSMP that you’d fallen in love. The server didn’t allow for such weakness, so you buried it all.

You’re in some kind of cave when your mind comes to. It has a bunch of things you’re not entirely sure what are, and to your surprise it also has Grian. You’d known him for a long time, which was originally the reason you had been invited to double life. That’s when you knew where you were. If Grian was here it had to be the server he usually frequented, which was hermitcraft. He was just as surprised to see you as you were to see him. “How.. Am I here?” You had asked him, puzzled. This type of cross server travel was something you’d simply never heard of. The only way to usually go to any other server was through your communicator and only by getting an invite. He walked over to hug you, smiling. You tensed, not being used to positive physical contact. When he pulled away he still had a big smile on his face. “I can’t believe you’re somehow here! I thought the rift was just between hermitcraft and Empires.” He explained, and you raised an eyebrow at his lack of a real explanation. “The rift?” You enquired.

“I accidentally created a rift between servers. I don’t really know how, but I am glad you’re here. This is cool.” He was clearly excited about it, but you were worried. “How do I get back, Grian?” You knew your disappearance would not go over well in your own world. Both because your friends and family would miss you, but also because you knew the lengths Dream would go to just to make sure you stayed chained to your own world. Everyone had their part to play in his schemes, and you were sure your disappearance would somehow ruin his plans and make him go ballistic. Grian looked sad and dejected at the prospect of you not staying, but you had to go. You knew it would only cause trouble if you didn’t. “You can go back and forth through the rift, as long as it stays open. But hey, stay for just a little bit, won’t you? Just to see the server- I could show you so many things!” Once again he seemed excited at the prospect of you staying, just a little bit.

Maybe a few hours wouldn’t hurt. There was no way that he would notice you gone until later. He wouldn’t even have to know that you’d left. You already knew it was a yes. The temptation of a couple hours of peace and happiness was all too much, and the question had never even been real. Of course you would stay. Grian didn’t even really need to convince you, nodding your head as he grabbed you once again and unfolded his large wings to carry you out of the apparent cave you were in.

You had fun for a bit, examining Grians base with him. He was about to move on to show what his neighbor, Mumbo, had been working on when his communicator went off a couple of times. He excused himself for a second, checking it with wide eyes. “Wait here, I have to go do something.” He said, about to take flight when you grabbed his arm in panic, surprising both of you. Grian knew you were jumpy, but not this much. He was aware of the changes that the DSMP had done to you, and you had both discussed it in double life. It was hard to deny it with Grian, he had known you before you joined. He knew the person you were before that server changed you completely. He understood why the thought of him leaving you alone was so frightening to you. “I’ll drop you off with someone you know, I promise.” He settled on, and although you were uncomfortable with the idea, you didn’t want to burden him so you nodded, as he once again picked you up to take you somewhere.

So when he dropped you off with the nearest person, who happened to be Scar, you were even less comfortable. You’d grown to like Scar over the season you had with him but you knew he was not a person equipped to babysit you. It was no surprise that as soon as Grian left Scar first dragged you around his park, but then when that ran out of interest for him you were getting dragged all over the server. Then, somewhere along the way you lost Scar. It was bound to happen with him flying around. He couldn’t carry you like Grian could. For a while you stood still, but it didn’t look like Scar was even looking for you or backtracking. So you decided to start walking, deeply on edge. Then you spotted a structure.

It stopped you in your tracks as you had to decide between trying to get help or finding your way back. After an inner battle, you decided to approach the building. It was black with blue and purple accents, and it was quite beautiful. Everything on this server had been so stunning. Coming from the DSMP it left you speechless sometimes. The only person on the DSMP who ever made anything this substantial was Foolish, and you’d never had the time to simply appreciate his builds. Walking so you were stood right in front of it, you tried to build up the courage to explore it to find help, but you just kept having that feeling in your stomach and the inability to make your legs move.

But you didn’t need to, as voices started to approach behind you from the treeline. It was starting to get dark out, so it made sense that someone would be coming home at this point, but your brain didn’t register anything except the fact that there were people coming for you. And in a panic, you unsheathe the sword you had borrowed from Grian, turning around quickly in a stance ready to fight as the two people become visible to you, and you to them. And they both stop in their tracks, the cheerful chattering coming to a halt at seeing you. But it’s not fear or surprise on their face, it’s faces of recognition. And the same look comes to your face, as your panic fades completely and warmth crawls up your body and into your cheeks.

They both shout your name, running towards you, Tango embracing you first and then Jimmy enclosing you both in his arms. “T-tango, J-jimmy.” You say their names shakily, somehow against your own will. It’s like a deep hidden need or urge to say them. The things you did together, the feelings both of them drew from you, it all comes back to you right then and there. Why couldn’t you have stayed in double life forever, with those two? It was cruel, but beautiful. Something in your mind couldn’t stop you from thinking it was fate, that maybe if you were lucky, you would continue to run into them like this. That maybe something would happen, and you could have this forever. But you were not that naive.

Jimmy pulled away, but left his hands on Tangos back. Tango didn’t completely pull away, but he did pull back to grab your face in one hand, tilting it up so he could look at you. His face had a beautiful smile painted on it, but you could see that his eyes were a little wet. Looking towards Jimmy, you almost burst out laughing, seeing him fully sobbing. "Hey! Don’t laugh at me.” He said, covering his face in embarrassment and then wiping his tears away. It was honestly just.. It was a lot, and keeping your tears in yourself had been hard so you couldn’t really pick on him too much. “It was a lot today, seeing both Tango and you for the first time in a while, okay!” He explained, as Tango continued to laugh deep from within his stomach. Feeling his body again, feeling the rumble of his voice leaving his chest, it was beyond any other feeling in the world. You missed it. You had missed it so, so much.

You somehow ended up on a couch after talking for hours, Tango on his stomach against you, both of you once again trapped inside Jimmys’ arms as he laid on his side next to you. He had the longest arms, you’d learned, and so he was always left on big spoon and outer layer cuddle-pile duty. It was hard to feel bad for him, as he looked so content. If you kept playing with his hair, you were convinced you could make him fall asleep. It was something you’d have to test, to be sure. Tango wouldn’t stop turning his head to look up at you, his goofy smile constantly glued to his face. It was perfect. You don’t know which god was playing with you. Giving you this taste of heaven, when you knew it could never last forever. all you would ever get was a little taste, you could never really have the full experience. It would just leave you with a craving that would never be satisfied.

And with Grian and Scar suddenly shouting your name from somewhere outside Tangos’ base, you knew it was time. Jimmy seemed to be pulled out of his half-asleep state, and Tango followed suit, sitting up. You heard Grian calling your name again, this time closer. There was a silence as you all looked between each other, Tango and Jimmy both knowing the look in your eyes. They both knew that look all too well. From when you all lost your first life to the last one, they’d seen it. The eyebrows that pulled upwards and the eyes that glossed over. You were saying ‘I’m sorry’ again. And they knew you were going to leave.

Desperately, Jimmy latched onto your arms. “No, don’t leave us again. Stay. Just-you can stay! You can stay for as long as I can, right? Tango? They can stay-” You cut him off, knowing you would break if you let him ramble on for any longer and also for his own sake. You knew he would just keep spiraling. “I have to go, Jimmy. Everyone from your world is onboard with you being here but.. I can’t stay. The people from my server wouldn’t..” You stopped to choose your words carefully. You didn’t want Tango and Jimmy to know. You didn’t want them to worry. They didn’t need to know what the DSMP was actually like, it would only hurt them to know.

“They wouldn’t get it. They would.. Miss me." It wasn’t entirely true, yet not entirely false either. You’re sure Dream would miss whatever plans he had for you, and you’re sure he would tear the entire universe apart to find you. That was more fun, anyways. You don’t know what his intentions are or what plans he has for you, but you’re sure tormenting you and bringing you back on your knees is more fun to him than making a new plan. And you don’t want to test him. You know what the man is capable of. Maybe if you let him take your last two lives, as he had taken the first, you could escape. But even in death Wilbur couldn’t, so you were not hopeful in that regard. You only feared to think what your purgatory would be like. No, instead you would return home. Keep going in the hopes of once again getting to hear Jimmy and Tango laugh.

Tango was taking it well, all things considered. You could tell he was sad, but he at least understood where you were coming from. Jimmy on the other hand was just looking between you and Tango, mad at you for letting yourself leave and mad at Tango for letting you leave. But he sighed, sinking back into the couch and away from you. He looked back up at you in defeat as you heard Grian and Scar call for Tango. You leaned in, putting an ascetic and fast kiss to Jimmys’ lips before taking Tangos’ hand and walking down stairs together. You and Tango both knew that Jimmy would not be able to let you go if he went with you, and Jimmy must have known too as he abstained from following you but simply sat there with tears starting to form in his eyes.

“Oh, thank goodness you’re okay. It was getting dark and I was worried, I knew I shouldn’t have left you with Scar.” Grian rambled as he ran towards you and hugged you as soon as you and Tango came into his vision. You looked behind him, seeing a very relieved and apologetic Scar waving at you. “I definitely don’t plan on letting Scar babysit my kids.” You said, putting up a joking demeanor to block the pain that was building up inside you. Grian let go of you, stepping back. “I’m sorry it took so long, are you ready to go?” Grian asked, and you grabbed Tangos’ hand. His eyes were glossy and slightly red, but he wasn’t crying. He must have been holding it back well, just like you were. Putting the other hand on his cheek, he copied you and laid his hand on yours and you leaned up to give him a deep and final kiss, which was the goodbye between you two before you parted.

Grian and Scar were looking at you in surprise as you separated, starting to walk away and when they regained their composure, they followed suit silently, ready to lead you back to the rift. To most, this had just been a fun little game with the idea of soulmates. But to you and your ranchers it had been real, it had meant everything. You just hoped it would not be the last time you ever got to see them.

#hermitcraft x reader #hermitcraft x y/n #hermitcraft x you #hermitblr #tangotek x reader #solidaritygaming x reader

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js-a-writer · 1 year ago

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First of all how is ur day/ night going, hope it's going well if not I hope it gets better. But I was wondering if u could make like an angst or fluff or both story for Jimmy Palmer of NCIS based off of "Darling...you can't just say things like that." Or "Come on, you know you can't hide forever." Where the reader may be having a rough time or maybe there is a lot of teasing going on? With the second one it can be a little flirty just nothing like too much if u can. Of course u don't have to do this request but if u do take as much time as you need and remember to drink lots of fluid and eat food and prioritize more important things in life and get to this whenever have a lovely day/night!

So I did see your requests, but I came up with another idea for one of the prompts and did that instead. I'll do your requests exactly how you wanted them, but I just had to get this out first. I actually had a plan figured out for yours, but my brain did not follow that. Again sorry, I will still make your other request(s) if you want. Just message me privately!

Summary: You and Jimmy get into a petty argument and end up healing it in the cutest, most romantic way possible.

Warnings: Angst (to fluff)

Petty Arguments

You and Jimmy had been working very hard on this case spending endless days, working long hours to find out what had happened to this poor Naval Officer.

You both had been so stressed out, with him spending forever in Autopsy with Ducky's long and pointless stories, and you with piles of research and investigation runs, along with the constant nagging from Tony for the both of you.

You had started to become easily irritable with the lack of sleep; every little thing seemed to set you off. You and Jimmy had walked into your small apartment with dark circles under your eyes, shoulders slumped, kicking off your shoes before collapsing on the couch.

Jimmy was heading to the kitchen, putting the keys on the counter and searching the cabinets for something to eat for dinner. "Don't bother. You won't find anything. I'll just order something." you triedly stated, rubbing at your eyes. "But we haven't had a decent, home-cooked meal together in what feels like forever." Jimmy says coming to sit next to you on the couch.

"Jimmy, I'm tired. Let's just order something and head to bed, yeah?" Jimmy sighs. He hasn't spent quality time with you in weeks it feels like. "I just wanted to spend time with you." Jimmy muttered under his breath. "Look, I'm sorry that we haven't had much quality time together later, but this case is different. It requires long hours and lots of focus. I'm exhausted and just want to eat and go. To. Sleep." you said harshly.

You were growing increasingly frustrated and Jimmy could tell. You continue to order somethig knowing he was done with the argument. "I ordered a pizza. It should be here in about 30 minutes." you say walking off. He sighs again.

"Whatever Jimmy, I'm done with this. Eat, don't eat. I. Don't. Care!" you say storming into the bedroom. You decide to take a bath, to try and relax yourself. Turning on the water, you began to strip, until you were completely naked, stepping into the tub.

Jimmy started to overthink (as he usually did) and he went to the bedroom to look for you, but you weren't there. He started panicking, thinking you had left but when he heard a soft spalsh come from the bathroom he knew you were in there. He stepped in an saw you in the tub relaxing with your eyes shut. A book was on the table next to you, as were a few candles and your phone.

You had your head leaned back, your hair thrown up in a loose bun, some of your curls/fly aways falling out of it, onto your beautiful face. Jimmy couldn't help but to admire you as he took a few steps closer to take your hand in his. You opened your eyes to see him sitting next to the tub, his head resting on the rim, with his hand in yours.

"Hi," he quietly says, testing the waters before actually talking to you about what had happened. "Hi." you say in a whisper, fearing your voice would betray you if you spoke any louder. Jimmy was about to say something when he saw your slightly bloodshot eyes looking into is, and the candles illuminating the tear stains on our cheeks.

"Oh, my darling, have you been crying?" he said tears forming in his own eyes at the thought of you crying because of some stupid, pointless agrument between the two of you. You looked down and he lifted your chin for you to look at him again. "Did you not think I would notice?" he asks, genuinely curious.

"I thought I could hide in here and you wouldn't notice." you say tears forming in your shiny, glittering eyes, again. "Come on, you know you can't hide forver." he says half serious. "I know, I'm so sorry. I've just been so stressed with work, and I know you have too! I've just been so frustraed and took it out on you, I'm so sorry, Baby." you confessed, tears spilling out of your eyes.

Jimmy got up from the floor and you feared he was leaving you. But instead he started to strip, gesturing for you to move up so he could slide in behind you. When the two of you got comfortable, you resting your back against his chest, and him leaning back on the tub, with you in his arms.

He kisses your head in reassurance, "Baby, you don't have to appologise. I know you've been stressed, and I know you've been trying so hard and putting your all into this case." "But that's no excuse, you've been working just as hard as I have down in Autopsy with Ducky. I shouldn't have taken my frustration out on you, and for that I am truly sorry."

"Appology accepted!" he smiles as he pulls you impossibly closer and squeezing you in a tight bear hug. "I love you, Darling," "I love you more!" "Not possible my love." you blushed at the nickname. "Fine, you win! But just this once." you exclaim, making watching motions with your poiinter and middle fingers. You both giggled and spent the rest of your night just like that; cuddled up together giggling and holding eachother close.

@kxge0

#jimmy palmer x reader #ncis #angst with a happy ending

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void-detective · 1 month ago

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Tribal Chief - Solosami/Zakoa fic ☝️

[[GIF NOT MINE! ALL DIVIDERS MADE BY CAFEKITSUNES]]

Warnings: family drama, mentions of samijey, angst (Sami is torn between Jey and Solo), past relationships, first kiss, and hurt comfort.

Word count: 2,468

Authors note: uhm, because of the lack of any content? I thought their dynamic was always cute and now with Solo as tribal chief I'm even more curious to explore it.

Summary: After an intense confrontation with Jey leaves Sami reeling, he seeks out to play his ever present peacemaker role. And meeting Solo again in his new tribal chief role brings up unresolved and old emotions for both parties.

“Well Sami, you wouldn't understand. ‘Cause you're not family, uce.”

Those words stung worse than any hit he had ever taken, like a knife had been dug directly into his heart. It burned his soul and brought a downcasted feeling to his very being like Jey had spit on everything the two of them had created. Just months ago they were teaming with each other to face common threats. The weight lifted from their shoulders with the departure of Roman and Sami had proudly watched the color return to Jey's face as he flourished without his cousin.

It had positively elated Sami like no other watching him holding aloft his first singles championship after defeating Bron. He remembered how enthusiastically he had embraced and eagerly calmed down Jey from the overwhelming emotions of winning. He remembered holding him and getting lost in joy seeing the light on his eyes. Jey was happy.

And so was he.

But as Roman and Jimmy slowly began to make their way back into the picture it almost felt like a switch had been pulled in Jey. To Sami he had a hunch that even with months away from Roman there was a part of Jey who still lurked with those old right hand man tendencies. The aggression, the hatred, the compliance, and the cruelty that Roman had groomed. All of it was still there even under the fact Jey had gotten away.

Perhaps he was being a bit quick to pin the blame but he wouldn't be all to surprised if Jimmy's presence and influence was already weaseling its way back into Jey's mind. He knew his twin was temperamental and sometimes didn't always think with his head before doing things, but even more so now it seemed the older Uso’s hostility had gotten worse. Could you blame him for not trusting Sami after he betrayed Roman? It was only fair it seemed like he had spit on the family that he had been let into.

A part of him believed that perhaps Jimmy may never understand the full layers of trauma inflicted on him and Jey by staying in Roman's presence. A part of him wished he could see under the armor and hoped a part of Jimmy knew everything Roman had done was wrong even if he was to hard headed to see it now.

But now after fretting his very well intentioned worry to Jey over the situation he was instead met with aggression and hostility where there had been none for months. And it had scared him into silence even staring as he saw the flicker of regret linger on those hazel eyes before he was left reeling. His relationship with Jey since leaving the Bloodline had really been up in a debate due to his friendship (fragile) with Kevin and Jey's independence now trying to solidify his singles career. They had been on and off dating? If you could call what they did dating due to their schedules and now the current family situation that had been boiling since Bad Blood.

They had always been super affectionate whether it being hugs or kisses. He knew Jey was still recovering just as he was from Roman's hold so they had been taking it slow and when Jey had requested he needed time he had respectfully agreed. Both of them in stress for different reasons but reasons all the same with people they cared about.

However what he couldn't wrap his head around was Jimmy and Roman spewing and hammering the idea that Solo was the worst. The more or less lesser of evil as Sami saw it. He wasn't stupid or blinded by his past with Roman nor as much as he loved Jey would he allow it to cloud his judgment. He knew Solo was far from being worse than the treatment that everyone in the Bloodline had received by the hands of the OTC. Solo never used his power to manipulate, he didn't rule through fear for his Bloodline, he didn't cheat much, never gaslighting, and he never treated anyone with less respect than he expected to himself. Yet he was the bad guy here.

Sami and Solo had been close in the original Bloodline during his time teaming and becoming close with the rest of the men. He had always known Solo as the quiet guy only ever being the one to carry out the dirty work. Though he knew Solo was destined for greatness the moment he came to NXT. He remembered how delighted he was just to see the smallest quirk of his lips from his silly quips or jokes and how excited he had become when Solo called him, ‘his dawg.’ If anything to Sami he knew somewhere in that cold demeanor that Solo cared maybe even had loved him as family too.

But now standing backstage aimlessly walking he felt lost in what to do in the midst of what seemed like the reforming of the original Bloodline. It all felt surreal and to him he was frustrated, so frustrated. He was afraid even for Jimmy because for the past few SmackDown’s and PLE’s Roman had shown no changes let alone uttered the word ‘i’m sorry’ to either Jimmy or Jey. He wanted to shake sense into the younger twin because he saw how unapologetic Roman remained on not being any different then the man that had caused so much heartache.

The man who drove away his own family.

Sami was so lost in his own turmoil and mind that he hadn't processed the fact someone was calling his name till now. He slowed his pace and blinked back the raging storm in his mind as he turned to gaze behind himself and frowned. And to his surprise there was the man himself, someone he hadn't talked to since he had betrayed the Bloodline.

Solo.

To his surprise it wasn't an aggressive or hostile approach like his brothers and cousin, it was open and relaxed. His stance comfortable and radiating a confidence Sami had never seen in his time as the enforcer. It was pleasing to see how much Sikoa had grown into his own as the new Tribal Chief and even more so to see him free of the position that he and previously the Uso's had believed was holding him back.

“Solo, hey man.” Zayn chuckled feeling a bit awkward at first as he ran a hand over the neck of his neck and gave an apologetic smile as he shifted to his feet. “Listen, about Roman and the betrayal I-” He had began feeling the need to bury the hatchet and give an apology that was needed or so he felt was. But to his surprise he was cut short by Solo holding up a finger to quiet him as he shook his head.

“No Sami, that's not necessary.” Solo started with a monotone tone that wasn't rude, just a bit firm in the way he said it. He raised a hand to rub his jaw as he stepped forward and gazed up towards Sami with a serious look. “I don't care about what you did, I understand.” He added calmly and gave a half smile as he lowered his hand back to his side.

Sami felt a bit of relief tug on his heart but his nerves still danced at the sight of the Tongans and especially from the intense almost feral stare down from the Samoan Werewolf, Jacob Fatu. He was still wary about Solo's new Bloodline despite the non aggressive (mostly) way they handled themselves and the unfamiliarity of the cousins Solo had brought in.

Solo, having caught on to the unease and slight fidget under the gaze of his Bloodline, gave a short chuckle. He turned his head and gave a small gesture to Jacob who lessened his murderous stare and opted to look on readily. “Hey, don't let them intimidate you, Sam. They are harmless and they're with me.” He reassured him holding a hand in a dirt of placating gesture. “These are my cousins, Tama Tonga and Tonga Loa.” He stepped slightly to the side and gestured a hand out.

Tama nodded his head in response and grinned widely as he kept his hands folded in front of himself while his brother Tonga simply nodded. The pair of them a famous tag team Sami has heard of a few times from NJPW and from Cody from time to time. They were mostly quiet and just there it seemed, so unlike the energy he had felt from Jimmy and Jey constant almost bubby energy. They were calm and focused nothing to out of note except the odd growling and sounds Tama occasionally gave out.

“And this.” Solo smiled proudly and placed a hand on Jacob's shoulder as he looked at Sami. “Is Jacob, he's my enforcer and another one of my cousins.” He nodded and patted the tense man with a proud look.

Jacob flipped his dreads out his face almost too aggressively and gave a small grunt of acknowledgement as he stood there. Seemingly always on edge or ready for a fight as he moved his leg slightly restlessly at his side as he eyed the Canadian with an underlying suspension but made no comment.

Sami still felt no more relaxed but in all honesty he trusted Solo’s judgment and that proud smile almost made him want to grin too. It seemed so foreign to watch the stoic former enforcer smile and joke so freely like his brothers. It made Sami wonder if Solo had been keeping a part of himself hidden under the leadership of Roman just to keep up appearances. Though now seeing him so relaxed and happy made him feel the same amount of pride as he had for Jey. At least some more good had come out of his betrayal.

“Yeah well I'm so glad to see you coming into your own Solo. You deserved everything, especially being tribal chief.” Sami smiled earnestly with a heartfelt tone as he gestured towards the ula fala Solo now adorned. “My tribal chief.” He added a bit cheekily as he grinned a bit, feeling his heart race at the way Sikoa seemed to perk up and puff up proudly from the acknowledgement.

Solo nodded in approval and looked to both sides of him, getting a nod from both Tongans as he gave a genuine laugh. “See! It's not hard but everyone seems to think it's impossible. Still acknowledging Roman like he ain't done anything wrong.” He scoffed and shook his head feeling frustrated with people still hating him despite him not doing anything to be hateable in his eyes.

“I feel like I'm in a crazy dream when I heard the others act like you had set the plague or something compared to Roman.” Sami nodded along feeling like he was finally heard as he expressed his frustrations to the younger sibling. His eyes still wary and his tone tired as he sighed, rubbing his temples just shaking his head. “I dunno Solo, Jey is acting all hostile again and Jimmy acts like I'm still the worst..and I just..” He sighed letting his shoulders slump in defeat as he resigned himself to the idea that Jey might just fall back into old habits.

Solo seeing this had softened and sighed as he nodded along with a disappointed yet knowing look in his eyes. His gaze sympathetic as he stepped forward and placed his hands on Sami's shoulders gently but firmly. “You are family to me Sam, my dawg…everything.” He empathized, squeezing his shoulders and ducked his gaze trying to catch Sami's eyes. “I want you in my Bloodline Sami, I know tensions are high and you want to be with Jey when this is all said and done but we both know Roman ain't no different then when you left.”

The sincerity in his tone and words caught him by surprise and he felt the hurt get a bit of balm soothed by the blonde as he was speaking. His logical side screamed to agree and let things play out but still his heart was he might betray Jey worse and drive him more into Roman by joining Sikoa. Though a deeper more pained side of himself reared its head and he felt anger and frustration from the stress bubbling dangerously.

Was this the right call?

Sami ultimately felt his resolve waver and his emotions washed over him as his eyes locked with the intense yet soft gaze of Solo. His heart torn but knowing that he'd only hurt himself more by letting himself be lured back into Roman's Bloodline. The actions to both to Kevin and Jey, three years of trauma and torment. He loved Jey but he was tired and the family drama felt like a weight he couldn't escape even now.

His own body worked accordingly almost on autopilot as he leaned forward and hugged Solo feeling a sense of comfort wash over his battered soul feeling the tight yet real hug given by the new tribal chief. It was full of more love and meaning than Reigns had ever tried to give in the past. Was he really evil? He felt his body melt slightly as he closed his eyes, giving a shaky sigh as he frowned, feeling Solo's gloved fingers thread through his ginger locks.

The warm and firmness of the bigger Samoan was grounding and he felt his stress slowly melting as the ghost of a shiver run up his back when Solo's breath fanned over his ear. His words soft spoken comfort and reassurance as he gazed over Sami's shoulder to share a silent message to the other members of his Bloodline.

Zayn hadn't even registered what was happening till he felt tentative yet gentle fingers running in his beard and cupping his cheeks with the smooth gloves. His eyes flicking to meet the stoic gaze that was Solo and for a moment his heart skipped and he swallowed thickly as the other man leaned forward and ghosted a tentative kiss to his lips before pulling back. It almost seemed fearful and hesitant as if expecting rejection but softening seeing none. Solo was much more soft and affectionate then Sami had expected especially since in their time in the Bloodline there wasn't a lot of tension at least he hadn't felt it unless he never noticed Sikoa’s attraction.

It was wrong but…

It felt nice.

But unnoticed by the group there was a figure standing at the corner of the hallway staring on at the interaction. Their hand tightening into the temple of pink ‘yeet’ glasses making them creak under the pressure till they turned and stalked off silently down the other way.

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farfromstrange · 2 years ago

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Butterfly Effect | Michael Kinsella x Reader

Chapter 1: Toffee Nut Latte

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Reader (afab)

Summary: Michael decides to check out the new café down the street and meets a kind-hearted barista who is determined to make him smile. Or, you serve a rather broody customer that seems like so much more than he lets on, and you decide to take the first step.

Warnings: None. Some angst in the beginning, but nothing serious, unless you consider bad flirting a warning.

Word Count: 5k

A/n: This is my first time writing for Michael. This really was a challenge and I hope I managed to get his character down right, but the man just needs a goddamn break in his life. I’m literally so nervous for y’all to read this… Also, I read some fics on AO3 and I watched some more Michael edits and tried to get the Irish accent on his end as right as I possibly could. I also googled a lot. If you want to be tagged, let me know! (Also, if you haven’t tried a toffee nut latte in December, you have to! It’s my comfort drink during Christmas time.)

The sky above Dublin is littered with gray clouds. A promise of rain goes through the news and every radio station with the weather report. There is a storm warning for those in Ireland who live close to the sea, but the city is told to be vigilant for any harsh winds. And as the first raindrops cascade down onto the asphalt, the clouds turn black.

Michael doesn’t mind the rain. It’s not because he was born and grew up in Ireland; it’s mostly because he has been lacking the feeling of nature in its rawest form for years. Eight years. Prison doesn’t treat anyone well, and he knows the weariness after getting out is normal, but he can’t seem to find a way to wrap his head around the changes around him. The world is so much different now than it was back then. But it is less the fact that gentrification has progressed to the point he has lost count of the family businesses that have disappeared and rather himself who has changed.

He lost everything eight years ago and paid the ultimate price. He is still paying for it. He truly believed that after getting out of prison, he could get back on his feet and get Anna back - it’s all he’s been looking forward to for eight years, to finally see and hold his little girl in his arms again, but she is not that little anymore and all laws and rules seem to be against him as he continues to try, try and try, and yet he always seems to lose.

Jimmy and Amanda are happy. They pretend to be, anyway. Their kids are bigger now than when Michael went to prison, but they’re still boys. Looking into Amanda’s eyes again after all this time has made all the guilt resurface that he tried to swallow while he was fighting for his survival in the dark confines of his prison cell.

He’s made mistakes, a lot of mistakes, and he doesn’t consider himself a good person, far from it, actually, but he wants to be better. He wants to be a father. He failed to be a husband and that led to a loss he can’t possibly put into words without tearing his heart out and putting it out into the sun for the flesh to melt off while his nerves are still connected to his conscious being.

He knows he screwed up and that he has no right to see Anna again, but he is selfish and there is so much he has to make up for. He can’t roll over and die, he has to try, and no matter how badly his family wants him back in the saddle, he wants to leave the man he was before behind. If not for him, he has to do it for his daughter. He owes that much to his wife, and he owes it to everyone else he has hurt to try.

A lot has changed around and inside Michael. He is sadder now, he doesn’t remember what it’s like to feel joy, he’s lost, he can’t find his way back, and the nightmares still keep him up. He can’t sleep. The bullet holes are still there. Every corner of his house is haunted. It reminds him of what he did, of the sacrifices he made in the name of his family, in the name of money, and he gets sick at the sight of his reflection. He loathes himself.

And as he finds comfort in the rain, he walks the streets of Dublin with a nauseating feeling of nostalgia eating through the sensitive skin of his insides because even the city itself seemed to scream at him in the same degrading tone his entire life already likes to take with him.

But he can’t say he doesn’t deserve it. He can’t say he doesn’t deserve the pain the universe and himself are projecting onto him because he does.

The rain grows heavier and he pulls the collar of his coat up to his throat. Some of the droplets get caught in his bear. He should probably shave, but he can’t find it in himself to try.

The streets are empty. A lot of familiar storefronts have shut down, buildings have been demolished and modern architecture lines the streets. Even the coffee shop he and Jimmy used to frequent is gone now. But instead of a new, fancy business building, a seemingly normal café has replaced it.

He stops.

Butterfly Effect.

If his education hasn’t failed him, the butterfly effect describes the power of even the most minuscule change to have a huge impact on your life - everyone’s life, really. Everything affects everything. The flapping of a butterfly’s wings on one end of the world can cause a natural catastrophe on the complete opposite end. It’s chaos theory.

Or, a nice cup of coffee can change the course of your day within seconds. That’s what he supposes it means. Otherwise, the name wouldn’t make any sense. An odd name for a café, he thinks. But the smell of roasted beans and sugary treats draws him in like a moth to a flame.

The bell above the door rings, signaling the arrival of another customer. Compared to the storm raging outside, it’s cozy and warm inside the café you work at. The mostly brown interior reminds you of a cabin in the woods in the middle of winter. You’ve grown used to the noise of conversations overlapping, the sizzling of the coffee maker, and the occasional ding of the oven whenever someone wants one of the snacks from the display heated up and ready to go, or ready to dive into it in a comfortable armchair somewhere close to the plants. It’s the work-free section of the café, and it has become rather popular during people’s most stressful times.

You have been working there for only a few months. After deciding to make a living from writing and quitting your nine-to-five desk job, you realized that money isn’t so easy to come by, so you let desperation lead you to the city and landed a job at this café that, at the time, had just opened. You were miserable at first because nothing was going your way, but you learned how to live with it because quite frankly, the place is nicer than you thought. After putting aside the pessimism, you found somewhat of an optimist inside of you, and that’s something you never thought you’d say.

The café is now your favorite place to be. It’s not a coffee shop because the main purpose isn’t to sell as many coffees to go; the place is perfectly decorated for people to stay and drink inside (and outside in summer). You get the occasional walk-ins, but most people stay for the atmosphere, and you can’t blame them.

It’s busy most of the time, there is a lot of work, and the stress wears you down and often takes the inspiration to create something outside of work away from you, but it’s not every day that a stable job comes with nice people and a nice ambiance. It’s better than staring at a computer screen all day, anyway.

You wouldn’t call yourself ‘the norm’. You’re a mess most of the time, you still can’t make doctor’s appointments without rehearsing your speech a million times beforehand, and doing the dishes isn’t your favorite thing to do, but you have a routine. You have friends. You’re as happy as you can be, and you only find yourself having an existential crisis every two days now rather than every hour, which seems to be a big improvement that should be celebrated. You’re a mess, but you stand by it.

Most people would have given up their dreams by now, but you have always been a dreamer, it keeps you alive, so giving up and returning to a life that doesn’t make you happy is not a decision that is even open for discussion. So many people have told you and keep telling you that you are never going to make it, but in your mind, you’re right where you want to be because that is where you can be, and everything else will come with time.

Even the smallest changes can lead to a sudden 180-turn in your life. Butterfly Effect. The place of your employment seems to be a little too on the nose with their name.

A rainy day usually means a lot of work for you, but you don’t let that sway you from admiring the beauty of Dublin hulled in gray in the afternoon.

The bell above the door rings and you look up. The man that walks in is wearing a sweater as dark as the weather, but it’s green and it reminds you more of a sad field than the gray clouds in the sky. His hair is dark though, and the dark strands of his beard surround a mouth that looks like it hasn’t smiled in a while.

He’s absolutely beautiful.

The stranger approaches you and the air gets stuck in your lungs. He eyes the menu, his brown eyes narrowing to get a closer picture of the writing - it’s yours. You updated the signs this morning, and you paid close attention to detail. You wonder if it was too much, your cheeks starting to burn bright red, ready to apologize and read it to him, but then he finally nods and steps up to the counter.

“Hi,” you say, your voice higher than usual, “Welcome to the Butterfly Effect! What can I get for you today?”

Your voice is like a breath of fresh air. Michael’s eyes fall on you, and he is instantly captivated by the force of your smile. It’s almost unfair how kind you seem, your little apron fitting perfectly around your waist and your hair only tied up enough to keep your face visible to the public. You’re open, painfully so; he suddenly feels like a smudge of black on a colorful canvas, and that canvas is you. Your smile is welcoming, it draws him in, but he doesn’t want to come closer. It’s light like yours that often gets ruined by the likes of him.

“Just a double espresso,” he says. It’s his old regular.

Compared to the volume of the bustling café, he’s quiet, but you still hear every word. There is a low vibrato to the way he speaks, and the new sensation makes you shiver. You have seen many people around here, it has become a favorite spot for people to hang out, but he’s a total stranger. And he’s different from the usual clientele that comes in. He’s mysterious, but he’s not dark. You wouldn’t describe him that way. He fits in with the furniture, you realize, and he would definitely make a cozy accessory.

If only he could see himself the same way. It’s not hard to tell that he doesn’t, or he wouldn’t carry himself the way he does. You can almost smell the sadness radiating off of him, and the lack of a smile makes you feel almost sad with him. And of course, for him.

“A double espresso?” you question.

Your curiosity is piqued.

He’s not sure why you sound like you’re insinuating something. Are you… judging him?

Michaels shifts from one foot to the other and says, “Yeah. A double espresso.”

“You know we have other options, right?”

He does. He can see the menu. His frown deepens. He finds himself taken aback by your candidness. He lifts his shoulders in a shrug. “It’s what I usually order. If ya don’t have any, I can look for somethin’ else.”

You smile a little at his shyness. He’s on the completely wrong path when it comes to interpreting your intentions. It’s not like you’re judging him, not at all, but there is more to him, there has to be. Every person has a story. You work with people every day, you’ve encountered rare personalities and yet there are always those who exceed your expectations. Michael seems to be one of those very people.

You can’t explain how you know, it’s merely a feeling, but your feelings are hardly ever wrong. You’ve been working in customer service for a while, and it comes with a certain sense of how people tick, what they’re like, and it makes you speculate about who they are inside, too. It’s what you’ve been doing from the beginning. At first, you felt bad, but you soon realized you aren’t doing anything harmful by observing. You are just studying human beings in their natural habitat, and it truly helps you get a better sense of who people are.

Coffee is the first indicator of the kind of person someone is. Unique coffee doesn’t instantly mean you are an adventurer unless there is something about you that would suggest it, just like the way you would order it or the kind of toppings you prefer. Keeping that in mind, ordering a double espresso also doesn’t mean you’re basic or ‘normal’ just because many people drink it; it’s the kind of person you see before you combined with the order that paints you a picture of who the person is.

You brew coffee for other people and make a living with that, so of course, coffee is something you judge based on. Sometimes, you memorize coffee orders simply to get to know the regulars that come in. People-watching is by far your favorite activity.

With Michael, it’s not just the coffee that gives it away though. The second he opened his mouth, you knew. Even though your conversation runs based on customer and service provider, the air between you and the way he carries himself intrigues you because you have to admit, it’s not often you feel this starstruck by a random man coming into your place of work and ordering a boring double espresso.

But he isn’t just a random man, is he?

The aura that consumes him and the clouds that follow him – they’re a testament to something else, something you don’t know about but that inevitably draws you in. He’s a magnet, almost. He shows so much without actually showing it, and he doesn’t even seem to know it. Perhaps that’s why he looks so surprised at your open and affectionate nature. He’s not used to people being nice to him. A lot of people that come into the café aren’t, but he surely is the most conflicted one. It’s a gut feeling that drives you.

“Oh no, that’s not what I meant!” you quickly assure him. “I get it, believe me. But let me let you in on a secret–“ You look deep into his eyes, and it’s enough to crack his foundation just a little.

You meet his eyes and Michael gets flustered. Eye contact has become a means to intimidate, but the way you look at him is far from that. It’s different. He licks his lip and hopes you can’t see too clearly that you have caught him off guard.

Well, needless to say, you have. The second you meet his beautiful eyes that appear almost black in the dim light of the room, you see his stern expression falter and a sense of humanity flashing through. It’s a broken, painful sliver of humanity, but it’s human nonetheless.

Shaking off the whirlwind of thoughts that almost turns you mute, you regain your composure. “We have this new toffee nut latte on the menu that tastes best with a little caramel and cinnamon on top,” – you point to the sign above your head – “You strike me as the kind of guy that could use more than just a boring espresso, especially on a day that’s already darker than our furniture,” you say before quickly adding, “No offense.”

Michael catches himself before he can lose all of his dignity. He chuckles awkwardly, looks away, then looks at you again. His eyes roam your face, then the sign behind you. He’s never been more grateful to his beard for hiding most of the blush on his pale cheeks. When he meets your eyes again, you’re still staring at him, and your smile is contagious.

You look so cute like this, with your apron and the butterfly clip that holds your name in place. Michael finds himself smiling at you, but it’s not because he’s nervous or shy – okay, maybe it’s because he is shy – but it’s because you are smiling at him so brightly, he forgets his name and he forgets what air feels like. His lips naturally curl up and mirror your expression, and he swears he can feel the blush rising to his head. A spark of warmth ignites in his eyes that was dormant for far too long.

Whatever you’re doing to him, it’s working, and you’ve barely talked.

I actually quite like the furniture, he thinks to himself, but the words wouldn’t find their way onto his lips.

“None taken,” he says instead.

You let out a sigh of relief. It’s hard to place the expression on his face, but his smile offers a lovely sight. “Oh, good. With gentrification and everything I really can’t afford scaring off a paying customer because of a toffee nut latte that you could get at Starbucks for twice the price. So,” you say, and you once again bite yourself in the ass for the inappropriate joke.

Why are you still talking? You were so confident, so in your element, but now he has you blushing again and rambling like a teenager. If your boss were to hear any of the things you just said to the poor man, you would probably end up having a lengthy conversation about etiquette.

You bite your cheek and close your eyes. “I’m so sorry, I should probably stop talking now. Just pretend you didn’t hear any of that. I really need this job. You probably think I’m crazy now.”

Michael’s lip twitches again, much to his own surprise. “That depends, are ya tryin’ to sell me on overpriced or good coffee?” he asks.

You feign a gasp. “Good coffee, of course!” You pause before adding with a wink, “Or so I’m supposed to say.”

You should shut up, but how can you when he is teasing you so effortlessly?

“That was a joke. Our coffee is excellent, and I’m not just saying that… okay, so, I’m mad, huh? That’s what you think. It’s official.”

He chuckles, his hand raising slightly as if to calm you down. Perhaps you have started talking a little fast, but rambling comes unfairly naturally. It’s your defense mechanism.

“I don’t think yer mad,” he says.

A blush spreads across your cheeks at the soft tone of his voice. He’s not as stressed as most of your customers; there is a calm amidst the storm.

“But if yer gonna rob me of five quid for a latte,” Michael adds, and there he goes again, teasing, “ya might as well get me an extra shot of espresso with that or I’ll start thinkin’ that ya are. Wouldn’t be good for business, would it?”

His words elicit a small giggle from you. “You can have as many as you like. On the house. But only today.”

You also shouldn’t be doing that, there’s a reason you’re supposed to charge for any particular changes like extra espresso or extra whipped cream, but you’re not thinking rationally anymore. Years of customer service training seem to be gone all of a sudden.

He shrugs again. “Just one’d be grand, thanks.”

“So, one toffee nut latte?” You meet his eyes. They remind you of ground coffee beans. You wonder if he smells the same, or if he smells like the rain outside mixed with the distinctive scent of wet grass in the air. You can't explain why the thought crosses your mind, but as soon as it settles in, it refuses to leave. “Or did I get that wrong?” you ask to clarify.

Michael shakes his head. “That’s right.”

“Okay”

He nods to the pile of paper cups next to the register. “Actually, could I get that to go?” he asks. “Please?”

“Sure,” you reach for the cup, “I can make that happen. One more thing though, and then I’ll leave you alone. Can I get your name?”

He frowns.

“For the order,” you add.

“Oh, right. Name’s Michael.”

“Michael…” His name is just as beautiful as him. You use the Sharpie next to the register to write his name in bold letters onto the coffee cup. “I hope I got that right,” you murmur more to yourself than him, but he hears you nonetheless.

His eyes crinkle in the corners from how hard he's smiling. The glint they’re carrying is just as teasing as before. On the counter, his fingers start patting a steady rhythm. “If ya wrote it with a k, yer wrong,” he says.

“I didn’t,” you say.

“Then you’re good.”

You try not to pass away from the sight of his smile or the subtle praise he throws your way.

You eye him and hesitate before moving a line lower and adding,

“You have a nice smile :)”

You consider putting your number as well, but that would be too much of a bold move, even for you, so you leave it be. You’re not even sure if he is as intrigued as you are; you develop crushes fairly easily, and it’s worse when hot men come in during tea time and order a coffee from you. You don’t want to creep him out, you just want to be nice. You want to make his day. He seems like the kind of guy that could use a pick-me-up, and you have your work cut out for you.

Handing the cup over to your colleague, you return your attention to the man before you. “Anything else you’d like, Michael?” you ask.

Swiftly taken aback by you saying his name so casually as if you’ve known each other for a while and he didn’t just walk into a café on a normal rainy day in Dublin like any other person around you but that you’re actually long-lost friends, he snaps out of it and shakes his head.

You can tell he’s not that much of a talker, so you accept his soft ‘thank you’, and name the total. He hands you the money, and he tips graciously.

Michael isn’t even sure why he does it, but then your eyes light up even more and he realizes that’s why. He wants to see you happy. He wants to brand your face into his brain with a hot iron.

The question ‘What the fuck is wrong with ya?’ Nudges him. ‘Stop it.’

He wants to, but he can’t.

You put the tip into your jar and offer him another smile, but this time your eyes are the ones holding the playful glint. “Well, thank you, good sir!” you say.

There can’t be much wrong with him. You are the kind of person many people would feel drawn to. He just doesn’t like the way it makes him feel.

He looks away. “Sure. See ya,” he says, and when he turns around to pick up his order at the counter a few steps over, he reads the name on your nametag and calls your name most deliciously.

You shudder.

“That’s…” you peek at your name tag. “That’s my name.”

He said your name. Good God you feel like such a teenager.

Did you make the right decision by writing him that note? You’re not sure, but you hope he gets your hint and comes back because he has proven to be quite something else – someone else – and you’d be damned to let that beautiful stranger slip through your fingers like any other man you could have had in the past.

It’s just something about Michael that has you yearning for more. Something that entices you and pulls you in. Maybe it’s the mystery that surrounds him or the dark cloud that you seem to have been able to clear for just a moment, but you could see the rainbow following the rain. Someone just has to shine enough light on him to make him smile again.

As you look to your right, your co-worker casts you a knowing glance. She smirks, her arms crossed over her chest. “You have a nice smile,” she quotes.

You roll your eyes.

“Do you write that on all customers’ cups or just this lad?”

“Sarah,” you warn.

“I mean, he’s hot, but come on! What was that?”

You can tell she’s trying hard not to laugh at you, and you are this close to smacking her in the head with the whisk closest to you. For a moment, you consider it.

“You need to get out more,” she says. “Learn how to flirt properly. That was just sad to watch.”

“Oh, fuck off!” you say, but the tone of your voice is playful.

You know the note was a pathetic attempt at flirting, and chances are he won’t reciprocate them, but at least you can sleep better at night knowing you’ve made his day better because you made him smile, and that usually goes a long way on a bad day.

Michael, at first overwhelmed by the sweet taste of his coffee, quickly comes to the decision that he likes whatever drink you made him buy. It reminds him of Christmas, of simpler times, and it makes him feel warm inside.

He likes his coffee strong, you took note of that. While he can taste the espresso clear as day, the sweet hints of cinnamon and caramel mixed with the warm foam and whipped cream explode on his tongue. He would have never ordered it if you hadn’t recommended it, that’s for sure, but the different tastes blend perfectly and don’t take away the essence of what he truly likes about the double espresso he usually orders. It’s different, but it reminds him of home.

The latte itself isn’t what causes him to pause though. It’s the written words underneath his name. Your handwriting is unique, fitting for someone like you, but he has no trouble deciphering it.

“You have a nice smile :)”

The compliments he receives are usually comments made by his family, and they’re never that special. Not that Michael would consider himself special, anyway. He can’t remember the last time someone complimented his smile; his smile had never been the center of anyone’s attention before. Until now. He’s flirted with women, he’s been around, but the purity of your compliment paired with the carefully drawn smiley face next to your note feels different than where his conversations usually lead.

He looks over his shoulder into the café where he sees you leaning over the counter through the runny glass of the window, a lolli in your hand as you hand it to a little girl. Your interaction flows effortlessly, just as it did with him.

The child points to the butterfly clip that keeps your name tag in place. You reach into the pocket of your apron and find a spare clip to hand her. The girl’s face lights up and you look even happier than before. It's a smile not many people have, and a power that even seems to enchant children.

The mother seems a lot more relaxed now that she’s talking to you. Michael begins to wonder if maybe your smile is the butterfly effect and not the coffee itself. Maybe you are the reason so many people come to the café. You offer solace, a smile, and some hot coffee. It’s every stressed person’s dream, he thinks, to be served by someone like you.

The rain cascades down on his tired features, but he’s not cold. He has his coffee and he has the thought of your smile etched into his brain, and there is something about you that won’t allow him to forget, no matter how hard he tries.

He glances back down at the note, his lips curling into another smile. If someone passed by him and would ask him why, he wouldn’t even know what to answer. Is he smiling because of the note or because of you? Or is it the taste of something new? Or maybe he has just gone insane, he’s not sure anymore.

The short moment of relief he felt inside the café is gone and instead replaced by the familiar feeling of dread. The gray of the clouds returns to his soul, and the light you have tried to light in his heart has gone out. The smile turns bittersweet before it dies on his lips, but then he looks back at you through the window, the rain turning your face blurry, and he wants nothing more than to scream at the clouds to go away.

Michael is too weak to fight what’s eating him inside. It’s inevitable. People around him get hurt and he hurts himself in the process. He would be foolish to think otherwise.

But then there’s you. You are a kind-hearted breath of fresh air. You are good with people. You seem like the kind of person who could never do something bad. You’re an Angel. You’re the complete opposite of him, and opposites attract. It’s a treacherous feeling and it’s dangerous, but he can’t help it.

A minute it took for you to make him smile. If that is not a record that piques his interest, he’s not sure what is. Not that he would admit his reason for going back to be your smile or the lovely note you have left on his coffee cup. He likes to think it’s the toffee nut latte and the ambiance, but deep down, even Michael knows that is not the reason he is truly smiling.

Coffee has become his new favorite drink and he knows exactly where to get his fix.

Tagging: @bellaxgiornata @loveroftoomanyfandoms @acharliecoxedfan @lina-mar @itwasthereaminuteago @mattkinsella

#michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella x you #michael kinsella #michael kinsella fluff #michael kinsella angst #michael kinsella smut #coffee shop au #kin amc #butterfly effect #michael kinsella fic #no y/n

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