#god... has it really been three years since rollin'........

[ltbarnes]

Resurrection Part VI

Summary: Bucky Barnes was only nineteen when the lives of his parents and little sister were taken right in front of him by the ruthless members of the Odinson mob. His father’s mistakes have turned Bucky into a vengeful and cold shell of the charming boy he once was, now deeply rooted in the criminal lifestyle of the Stark mafia. Sudden attacks ignite the conflict between the two forces of the city, refueling the rivalry that has been rather tame for years. Nine years since Bucky’s life fell apart, he finds it shattering once more when what was supposed to be long dead returns to the living.

Pairing: brother!mafia!Bucky Barnes x adopted!sister!reader, mafia!Thor Odinson x reader, mafia!Loki Odinson x reader, eventual Steve Rogers x reader

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: fire, violence, guns and people being shot, technically kidnapping, petty fighting

A/N: it’s been way too long since I updated this last (a month 😃) but enjoy!!

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

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Smoke rises up towards the ceiling while you cough. Flames dance over the tables, ravaging curtains and walls and chairs alike. You barely see anything through your tears.

"Run! Hallway, Y/n, for god's sake!" M'Baku yells frantically while throwing his arm out in the direction of the corridor leading into the kitchen.

You don't really know how much time has passed since they barged into the restaurant. Two, three minutes at most. A gunshot was heard and Thor instantly pushed you from your seat onto the floor, hiding you underneath the table. A lot of yelling. Another shot, directed towards the chandelier with live candles swinging from the ceiling.

The fire spread quickly after that. You heard a scream and tried to place it—understand if it belonged to someone you know. At least one person must have died by now. Your ears are ringing from all the guns fired inside of the restaurant, and your panic makes things spin and figures blur. Distinguishing your own people from the ones who invaded is hard.

Beams are already falling from the ceiling. You cried out as a piece hit your forehead—rid of the flames, but heavy nonetheless. Hurts like a goddamn bitch. The sound of someone yelling your name can be heard in the background somewhere. Heimdall, maybe? Thor?

M'Baku is trying to stave off the attackers while getting you to safety. Not very successful in his endeavors, mostly because of your shock. You spin around frantically, trying to find some form of anchor to ground you, lead you out because you can't figure out which way is which.

You want to leave, but your dizziness and hyperventilating prohibits you from even separating up from down. The floor meets your knees, you barely noticed yourself falling over, blinking slowly to gather your surroundings.

It's the sight of someone pointing their gun towards what must be the outline of Loki, pressing down on the trigger in the same moment you realize who the person behind the weapon is.

The moment has passed once you scramble up to your feet. The bullet has torn through flesh and you can't really process why on earth Jack Rollins would shoot his own boss.

"Loki!" you cry, scream, out. Sobs wrack your limbs and you can't really see anything now.

You refuse to lose him. Loki has been such a crucial part of your upbringing that you consider him family by now. He is your brother, wether he views himself as that or not. Losing more family members is something you simply can't agree upon. Not Loki.

Your cries for the man become hoarse as you stumble over your feet trying to get closer. Hands grab your shoulders before you can get any further, turning you towards them with a harsh grip before you can see what happened to the raven-haired man.

"Go for fuck's sake! You're going to die!" Quill says, forcing you to look into his panicked eyes before pushing you in the direction of the hallway.

Even despite your heart screaming at you, begging you to go to Loki, you know he wouldn't want that—for two people to die when one could get out alive. A waste of life, he would probably think. So you go against what you want and move away.

It's more stumbling than running you're doing while using the walls to move forward, lungs screaming in protest as the smoke clouds the air. It thins out the farther away from the salon you get, but your body doesn't really want to understand that. It hurts to breathe all the same.

This combination of crying and coughing feels like something you haven't done since you were five years old. Scared, searching for someone you know while desperately trying to avoid anyone you don't know. Those want you harm, they want you dead. And then there's those you do know who probably also want you dead. The image of Rollins shooting Loki still displays at the forefront of your mind. Why would he do that?

Faint shouts and orders yelled in the background. Stopping for air for a few seconds. Sterile kitchen light darkened by the smoke slowly billowing in. The lights shut down. A few sparks emit from one of the lamps in the ceiling as the entire electrical system malfunctions.

Your knees are weak, and so is the rest of your body, and you have a thought or two of giving up. Sitting down and waiting for either the fire to take you or the bullets of whoever hits you first. Being stealthy isn't something you can manage right now, despite M'Baku's nagging voice in your mind telling you to be careful, with rigorous cough attacks threatening to blow apart your lungs alerting anyone who looks for you. As a matter of fact, you wonder where everyone is. Just one familiar face would be enough to keep you going, even though you want to puke from the dizziness.

The kitchen leads out into another hallway, one you've never been in before, that is almost completely dark besides the red exit signs lighting up your path just slightly. Your eyes sting with tears, trying to exonerate the smoke left. It's hard to see—maybe that's why the solid chest colliding with yours draws a shriek from your lips.

Trashing out of his grip is futile, but the immediate response, as metal glistens from his arm. The fear is overwhelming, so much that you forget to breathe, screaming for him to let you go.

You think he's shushing you, but you can't really make out any of the words forming on his lips as your watery eyes flicker upwards, just barely making out the features of the man in the dark hallway.

A small spark of recognition ignites before it's shut down just as quickly. Blinding pain sends dark spots in front of your vision as something hits the back of your head. A metal pipe, a chair? Your thrashing instantly ceases, instead clinging onto the man's arms while the spots turn into pools, clouding the entirety of your vision.

You only feel someone's palm against your cheek, hear the faint sound of angry yelling, before you black out completely. Thank god.

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"What the fuck happened!?" Stark shouts at the dozen still standing in the lobby with soot on their faces, still coughing to rid themselves of the smoke in their lungs twenty minutes later.

He has already gotten word of the shoot-out at The Bifrost, of the fire currently ravaging the restaurant and the buildings beside it. He already knows from Maria that Coulson is down. Bucky raged past him a few minutes earlier with his sister in his arms and Yelena running after him, now assisted by Banner up in the medical room.

"Rumlow. Rumlow fucking happened," Pietro says, half bent over to catch his breath.

The man is dead now. If he wasn't shot down by someone in the Odinson mob he would've been killed by the Stark's for what he did.

"He was the goddamn mole. Started shooting at all of us as soon as we entered—worked with someone else from the Odinsons," he continues, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.

"Fuck—goddamn it!" Tony yells as he hits the staircase, drawing a palm over his face. "Birdbrain and T'Challa was right."

"About what?" Wanda speaks up from where she's leaning against her boyfriend's chest. She's probably the most unscathed of them all. Fire is something that doesn't bother her all that much.

"They got back half an hour ago. Someone blew up one of their biggest garages a few days ago and stole my goddamn watch to plant it at the site," Tony grumbles, jaw clenching down hard. He's so fucking pissed off, and for once it's not at the Odinsons. "Guessing they didn't target our warehouse either."

The silence is speaking volumes. It's clear now that someone is trying to fuck things up between the Starks and Odinsons to fill the eventual power vacuum when they shoot each other dead.

"Well, Hydra is a bigger threat than we thought, I assume," Vision says, hand resting on Wanda's shoulder while his brows furrow.

"It's goddamn war against those godfucking people now—they killed one of our own, kidnapped one of our own, blew up a goddamn warehouse—"

"Tony."

The softspoken voice of his wife sounds from the top of the stairs, drawing the mobster's head right around to look at his beloved Pepper. She is the only one who can make him listen. And he always listens when she looks this upset.

"Scheming about revenge can wait. Banner have something he wants you to look at."

"Is it about the the girl?" Stark sighs, pinching the skin between his eyebrows. He seems to be two seconds away from blowing up. A man lost his life for this.

"Yes, but not like that. Yelena knocked his sister out back at the restaurant and Bucky's throwing a fit so Banner started looking at other things," Pepper answers, gazing down at the group watching her with attention. "Nat's the only thing keeping them from killing each other."

"Well, tell them to shut up. I want to look at the girl too." Tony waves towards the door before crossing his arms over his chest. Wanda and Shuri looks at him funnily, as if they're appalled by his lack of sensitivity. Tony sighs and rolls his eyes in answer. "But I suppose she needs to rest for a while more."

"Better," Wanda mumbles under her breath as they disappear onto the second floor.

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"I. Didn't. Know!" Yelena yells, pushing at Bucky's chest out of frustration.

"She was wearing a goddamn sundress!" He throws his hands up into the air before nestling them into the mess of hair on his head, tilting his neck until he's watching the ceiling.

"She was hitting you, you asshole! How was I supposed to know that someone attacking you, and she was—"

"Darlings, lay it off, will you?" Wanda interrupts their screaming match with her soft voice, sending a knowing glance towards Natasha simultaneously who answers with an eye roll. "Why are you out here yelling when your sister is resting five feet away? Give her some peace and quiet, will you?"

"I've tried telling them that for five minutes," Natasha interjects, leaning against the opposite wall. She's been glancing over your way to see how you're doing every twenty seconds, since other people are so preoccupied with their anger to even think about why they are angry in the first place.

"Bucky—I get that you're angry, but she didn't know. She was just protecting you," Wanda says. Yelena's expression grows into a smirk, a mere second away from sticking her tongue out towards the man beside her. "And Yelena, don't fucking hit people with your gun without checking who it is first. Especially when those people fit the exact description of the person we're supposed to be rescuing."

A silence loaded with guilt and red cheeks lies thick between Bucky and Yelena for a dozen of seconds, one where they don't look each other in the eye but silently forgive each other anyway.

"Now, please, can we give this poor girl some space?" Wanda gives a pointed look towards Yelena. "Or at least be quieter. She probably has a concussion."

"She does," Yelena mutters under her breath. Banner said it was practically inevitable.

Minutes of complete, utter silence are shared between the now too many occupants of the room. People trickle inside every other second, as if this is the new tourist attraction of the town and privacy was never invented. But it's a moment of peace that is rare to find in these lives, and they know the peace will be short-lived when Hydra starts playing the real game and the Odinsons wake up to the realization that you are gone.

The first uttered word for too many minutes comes from Natasha's younger sister, who should be the last one to speak in reality, but is too curious to help herself. She has never had a filter, even in situations like these.

Yelena walks up to your bedside as if she's been held back, nearly pouncing on the opportunity. Then her movements slow down once she realizes people are watching, instead running her eyes over your figure with a critical gaze.

"Weak." Yelena lifts your arm, inspecting it while squeezing your bicep. "Could probably take little girl down in two seconds."

Bucky quickly pries your arm away from her hold and leads her a feet away with his hands on her shoulders and a deep scowl on his face.

"You are not tackling my sister down, Yelena. Again," he mutters, walking up to your figure to stand protectively by your side.

"Uh! I did not say I was going to fight your sister," she pouts, mouth open as if he just insulted her. "So protective, that one, don't you think?"

Yelena leans in towards Pietro who shakes his head in answer, rolling his eyes while crossing his arms over his chest. Natasha only glares with a sigh.

"Lena, be kind to her once she wakes up. We don't know what she's been through these past nine years," she tells her sister.

"You think so badly of me, sister. That girl is my new bestie. I have already claimed her," she answers, pointing towards your passed out body.

"You literally knocked her out an hour ago," Pietro says. Maybe to actually criticize her, maybe because she just called another person her new best friend.

"Not on purpose!" she answers, crossing her arms in defiance. "Well, I did not know it was her. Then I wouldn't have done it."

"Can everyone just leave?" Bucky seethes. His palm clenches and relaxes, breathing out deeply through his nose while trying not to break. He doesn't know if he's going to roar or cry, but he has a weak hold on his emotions and a breakdown is nothing he wants the others to see. "I want to be alone with my sister for one goddamn minute. Can you please do that?"

He gets no answer but the sound of people scrambling out of the room just as quickly as they entered. But Bucky doesn't feel like he can breathe any easier with the sudden overflow of space, because now it's just you and him alone for the first time in a decade. Right there on the bed, his little sister lies sleeping as if you weren't knocked unconscious. As if blood wasn't pouring down your face from a gash in your forehead an hour ago. As if he didn't cause an entire restaurant to burn down so he could get you back.

Bucky doesn't know what he will say when you wake up. He also doesn't know what your reaction will be. Will you believe him, that it's actually him sitting in front of you after all these years and not some weird dream? Will you be mad at him for not looking for you more, sooner?

He wants to sit in a corner and keep his distance, but he forces himself to set the chair down right by your side. Your hand is cold as he grasps it in his. You always were a cold child, so it would not surprise him if you still are. It's a weird concept—you technically being an adult now. You could do whatever you want in the world.

But instead of that thought and your hand in his being comforting, it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. The aftertaste of all the ways he's failed you and all the ways he will fail you. Because Bucky is not a good person. You deserve a life where your only living relative can offer you something else than this. He doesn't want you to be surrounded by all this blood and danger and corruption.

At the same time, he could never let you go now. He made a vow to himself when he was younger to always protect his mother and sister. He might have failed you both all those years ago, but he's sure as hell not doing it again. You are not even leaving his sight now. Even leaving you around the people he trusts with his life feels unsure. Especially Yelena—she can talk about being new “besties” all she wants, but Bucky doesn’t know if he could ever relax with her around you. He’s still fucking pissed off even though he might have some understanding of where she was coming from.

But, fuck, he doesn’t know how to even talk to 19-year olds. How is he going to do this by himself? Bucky might have known you for ten years but the person you are now will be a stranger. He will be a stranger to you. You were a kid back then, and he barely remembers his childhood, so why should you remember yours?

Most of all you must be traumatized. Bucky doesn’t know how to handle traumatized people either, despite being one himself and surrounding himself with them daily. But they never talk about shit. He’s going to have to talk to you about everything—he needs to know every single thing they have done to you so he knows how many bones he has to break.

The thought of any harm coming to the little girl who used to jump into his arms and cry about her nightmares makes him sick. The girl who drew pictures of the cat she always wished her mother would buy and taping them up on the kitchen walls. One who wanted her father’s attention so desperately that she nearly burnt herself out by excelling in school and at home and at every single thing she did. That’s who you were when you were taken, and Bucky can’t really merge that person together with the young woman now laying beside him.

He is out on deep water without a life vest, or any kind of boat whatsoever, and he knows that there’s really only one person who can understand. The one person who has always showed up and shared his grief despite all the shit Bucky has put him through.

Bucky stands in the doorway, glancing over at your figure every other second as if you will disappear, while obnoxiously loud signals sound into his ears.

Too much time passes before that familiar crackling sound emits from his phone. Less than fifteen seconds in reality, but an eternity in his mind. His hands are shaking and he knows he should say something when he hears “Hey, Buck,” from the other side of the line, but it feels nearly impossible.

“Hello? Is everything alright?”

Bucky’s breath hitches as he gulps, lips parting to blow out a shaky breath.

“Steve?” he forces out.

“Yeah?”

“I need you,” Bucky says. And that’s all needed to be said, even though Steve has just finished a sixteen-hour shift and walked through a burning house and seen a man die from his burns.

“I’ll be there in twenty.”

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TAG: @kneelforloki

[talia-rumlow]

Home Sweet Home (AU Brock Rumlow/Original Female Character) Chapter Three

WORD COUNT: 6026

TRIGGERS: Mentions of War Trauma, PTSD, Age Gap, Alcohol, Teenage Pregnancy

HAPPY READING!

CHAPTER THREE - YOU!

"What was the ASAP about?" Molly questions, as she takes a seat in the egg chair when Calleigh closes the door to her bedroom.

"Huh?" Calleigh replies. With everything that had happened with Brock this morning, she almost forgot about the message she sent last night.

"It's about the guy in the pool isn't it?" Molly gestures towards the back of the house. Her heart is beating rapidly from the exitement for her friend. Although Brock is older, and Jack's friend. If there's feelings there, Calleigh should definetly act on it.

Calleigh lets out a noise and lets herself fall back first down on her bed. One thing was feeling it, to say it out loud. That would make it really real. And she can't fall for Brock. That would absolutely ruin everything, in every possible way imaginable. "What do you want me to say, Molls?" She breathes out, as she sits up, and buries her face in her hands.

"You looked pretty close there. Did something happen?" Molly pushes on. She was usually a shy and quiet person, but all of that kinda went away when she was with Calleigh and Jess. The three girls had known each other for 16 years or so, it was easy to be around them.

"Arrgh... I don't know, Molls," Calleigh sniffs. "It's Brock. I don't even know what's happening to me," she continues, whiping away a lonely tear that escaped her eye. When did everything become so difficult? Any other guy would work, litterally anyone. But her dad's best friend. What would Jack say? What would her mom say? Her grandparents? Brock's mom and siblings? Did she just fuck up the rest of her life?

"Oh, honey," Molly's comforting voice is suddenly right beside her, and Molly's hand is on her shoulder. "You can't decide who you fall in love with. And neither can he. If you feel-," she starts.

"He's my dad's best friend. He's known me since birth. God, Molly, he probably changed my diapers. This is just wrong on so many levels," Calleigh sniffs again. Almost sobbing now. How could she be this stupid? Even if she wanted this, and he wanted this, it could never happen. It just couldn't.

Molly puts her arm around her friend. There's no need for words right now. It will undoubtably be hard for Calleigh to date Brock, or have a fling with Brock, or whatever they might have going on. But Molly was still a firm believer that if you feel and he feels, you should act it out. No matter the consequences. She guesses that's a mentallity she has from losing her dad at a young age. She was so young when he passed, that she never really got to know him. So she felt the need to live life to the fullest, to make him proud, and to make sure she did absolutely everything she wanted to or dreamt about doing.

After Molly's dad passed away, Jack stepped in and became a father figure for her. He made sure Molly and her mom were alright and taken care of. Molly often stayed at the Rollins house or Jack's lake house when her mom worked or needed some time for herself. Jack had always been there for her. Brock, on the other hand, was more like the fun uncle who occasionally spoiled them with candy. Both Jack and Brock felt like family to Molly. Jack even gave her a job in his business, treating her like his own daughter. When Molly turned 18, two years after Calleigh moved to New York with her mom, Jack attended her graduation alongside her mom. He then offered her a job in his HR team. Molly was thrilled because she had trouble leaving her mom behind. The job had good pay, insurance, occasional travel opportunities, and a desk job, which was rare for someone her age. It felt reassuring to have a stable job at Rollins Delivery, a company with a long history and promising future. Molly felt like she had a job for life.

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

Brock slowly exits the pool. If you were a casual bystander to the scene, you could argue that it was taken straight out of a movie. His shorts hangs losely over his hips, revealing his toned V shape. His dark skin glistening in the sun from the water dripping off it. The tattoos on his arms make him look like a good bad guy. The few hairs on his upper body barly visible given his skin tone. As Brock lifts his arm, dragging his hand through his hair, he reveals another tattoo hidden on his upper arm.

Brock sighs. He shouldn't have tried to kiss her. She didn't exactly tell him no, but she didn't say yes either. His heart make an extra beat when he thinks about how close they were. Just an inch more, and he would have had his lips on hers. Calleigh was undoubtably an amazing young woman. Beautiful, sweet, intelligent and not at all like his previous girlfriends. But still, after his ex Taylor it was hard to think about starting a new relationship. And a relationship with Calleigh. Would that at all be possible? Even if she wanted it, and he wanted it, it would be almost impossible given his friendship with Jack.

Brock pushes his thoughts to the back of his head, no use in thinking about this now. Not until he's sure it can actually turn into something. He picks up his t shirt from the tiles, and hangs it over a chair To dry off. Then he looks at Kilo, still frolicking in the pool. "Hey, buddy! Come here," he shouts to the dog. "Hey, dog, come here," he repeats. There's no response from Kilo, nothing at all. He's like his nephew Aaron was when he was two years old, and Brock tried to get him to bed. "Stupid dog," Brock mutters for himself.

A loud whiste from the back enterance to the garage catches both Brock's and Kilo's attention. Kilo exits the pool instantaniously, greeting the person who whistled, as she puts down four plastic bags with the familiar sound of bottles clinking together.

Jessica or Jess for short Grayson was 22 years old, and the only one out of the three friends that could legally purchase alcohol. She was about 5'5" with thick dark hair, brown eyes and that typical latina flair, both physically and mentally. She had a smart mouth, that almost always got her into or out of trouble. Her quick wit was well known around these parts, and Brock could imagine that she had a great future ahead of her in the legal world. Both of Jessicas parents were lawyers. Her dad Stephen Grayson was a corporate lawyer, he got his degree at Harvard, and had earned himself a good reputation in the business since then. Her mother Eliana Lucía was a well known defense attorny, with several high end cases under her belt. Jessica had followed in her parents footsteps, and was working on her undergraduate degree. She had started straight out of high school, and Jack had been so sure of her skills, that he'd already given her a job on his legal team, even before she had finished law school.

"They're up in Calleigh's room," Brock informs her grabbing her bags "You just head on in, I'll put these in the fridge for ya'," he continues.

"As long as you don't take anything," Jess replies raising one of her eyebrows.

Brock takes a look in the bags, then he sends Jess an amused look. "You have four six packs and four bottles of wine. What are you planning on doing?" He chuckles.

Jess lifts her right hand, mimicking drinking. "Glugg, glugg yohoo," she laughs, before she enters the house and dissapeares.

Brock can't help but shake his head. Although he remembers his early 20's he can't say that it's the same as Calleigh, Molly or Jess' lifes. Brock had enlisted shortly after his 18th birthday. He didn't think much of it back then. The military was a good way to make some extra money for his family. And it wasn't unsusual for Texan boys to enlist. Nothing much happened after Basic Training either. A couple of NATO training ops in Scandinavia, but nothing he saw as dangerous or life threatening at all. But that was before that horrendous day in September 2001. He can still remember that day. And he can still feel his body tense up when he thinks back. The whole country held their breaths. And he knew, he just knew that this was his chance to really do something, something he would be remembered for, something that mattered.

After that day everything changed. In November that very same year, he left for his first tour in Afghanistan. He was 24 years old, young, ignorant as to what war really was and ready to fight for his family and his country's freedom. They were called heroes, and back then he felt like one. He had no idea what waited for him over there. And he's glad he didn't know back then. What he witnessed, he wouldn't want his worst enemy to experience. It wasn't often he really let himself think back, it was too painful, and he still went to therapy to deal with his flashbacks, and the PTSD he had been diagnosed with after he came home for good. Some people told him he was lucky, that he came home. Not everyone did. He didn't feel lucky, there wasn't a bone in his body that felt lucky. He felt more guilty. Guilty that he survived. And in any other situation, you would never tell someone that they were lucky if they saw their friends die a horrible death, without them being able to do a damn thing about it. Who in their rigtheous mind, would concider that to be lucky?

Trying to shake the memories off, he walks inside loading the fridge with the stuff Jess brought with her. He contemplates taking a beer, but decides against it. He has to make a quick trip home to pick up some stuff. And maybe he'll ask the girls if they want pizza or something. The second Calleigh pops up in his head, it's like all the bad memories just fade away. Like they were never there. Brock has never experienced this before, not even when he was a teenager. That a girl could just erase all the bad feelings. As he lets himself gently fall down on the couch, he takes a quick peak up the stairs mouthing a silent thank you to Calleigh.

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

"Oh great, you're here. We. Need. Advice," Molly tells Jess, almost before she enters the room.

"Naha, no no," Jess replies, lifting her hand making a pretend wall between herself and the two girls on the bed. "If I hear ONE more legal jargon. I swear to God himself I'm gonna need my mother's advice," she continues.

"Not even if it's about a certain handsome older guy that's somewhere downstairs right now?" Molly asks, her tone teasing, like she want's to lure Jess into a trap or something.

"Brock did something illegal?" Jess gasps rubbing her hands together as she sits down next to Calleigh. "What did he do?" She continues.

Calleigh puts her hands over her face, lets out a displeased sound, before she lets herself fall back on the bed. "You didn't tell me he was all tattooed and shit," she mumbles.

"Yeah, after he got out of that horrible relationship he really, and I mean really cleaned himself up," Jess informs, still blissfully ignorant to the situation at hand.

"Relationship?" Calleigh sits back up again "What relationship?" She asks. Why didn't she know about this? Not that she expected Brock to tell her, but even when she lived in New York, she did visit her dad as often as possible, and she never encountered any girls on Brock's arm.

"Yeah, apparantly she was a real bitch to him. Everyone was talking about it. Anyway, what did he do? He didn't kill her, did he? Because she probably deserves that, after what I've heard," Jess continues, fast paced, and still oblivious to what's acctually happening.

"What did you hear?" Calleigh pushes for answers, answers she's not even sure she wants. The thought of another woman close to Brock does something to her. It's like all the sunshine, butterflies and rainbows that awakens inside her when she thinks about him or she's close to him, are taken over by these black stormy clouds. And that does not feel good at all. Rationally she understands that Brock isn't a virgin, with his 46 years he must have had several women. But the thought of another woman kissing him, touching him. She want's to be the one to do that. "God, I need help," she whines before she lets herself fall back on the bed again.

"What did Brock do?" Jess ask again.

Jess's question earns her a look from Molly. "I think it's good that you took a break from law reading Jess. Snap out of it. Calleigh is into Brock," Molly snaps her fingers in front of Jess, earning a scream from Calleigh behind her hands that still covers her face.

"Nooo," Jess almost screams. Earning a frantic nod from Molly.

"Oh, yes. And by the looks of it, he's into her as well," Molly's voice is almost extatic. That's how happy she is for her friend.

"He's not into me, Molls. He's 26 years older than me, oh, and don't forget that he's also my dad's best friend," Calleigh tries, but she's interrupted by Jess.

"Okay, let's go downstairs and see for ourselfs. I know these things you know. I can smell it a mile away," Jess voice is almost instructing them. "Hey, Calleigh. What are you going to do if he's into you?" She continues, suddenly there's a tiny bit of concern in her voice.

"I don't know... I really don't know," Calleigh sighs. "Should I do something? Could I do something?" She continues.

"I say go for it. But first, let's assess the situation, and then I can give you pointers," Jess talks as she moves towards the door. "Seriously, I don't know what you guys would do without me," she continues as she opens the door.

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

Brock leans back in the coutch. Looks up at the ceiling, before he drags his hand over his face. Fuckin' life. He absolutely knew that he wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed when it came to picking girlfriends. God knows life had taught him that. But Calleigh? He really went too far down the idiot road this time. But no matter how much he told himself to stop, it was impossible. The feelings were already there, nothing he could do about that now, other than keep a safe distance. But given that Calleigh now lived here full time, his friendship With Jack, and the fact that he practically was a part of the family, that would raise suspicion. "Jesus, Brock," he whispers to himself.

He needs to get out of here. Go home for a bit, let the girls have the place for themselves for a couple of hours. Go home, take a shower, clear his head, and order pizza or something on his way back. He just needs to tell Calleigh first. With a sigh he gets himself off the coutch.

Walking up the stairs, he feels like it takes forever. But it gives him time to think. Maybe if he just forces himself to not have feelings the next time he looks at her. Maybe that'll help. Pretend she's someone else. God, it is possible to be more stupid or childish? Brock looked at himself as a normal intelligent human being, except when he was in love, then he was as stupid as they come.

He takes a couple of deep breaths, before he lifts his hand to knock on Calleigh's door. He can hear Jess' voice from the inside, but he can't make out what she's saying. Before he gets to think any further, Jess opens the door.

"Whoa. Mr. Rumlow," Jess gasps in surprise. She knows that they usually just call him Brock. But she was raised well, and she was surprised by him standing there.

"Brock is fine, Jessica," he replies as he take a quick peak into the room.

"Now who's in Stealth mode?" Calleigh teases, raising her eyebrows.

Brock smiles in return. Or at least his face is trying to smile. Brock feels like it's more like a bad attempt at a funny face. "I have my moments," he desperately tries to laugh it off. But all he can think is 'not working' over and over again. Forcing his mind to get it together, he clears his throat. "I was thinking about heading home for a while, pick up some stuff I need..," he stops mid sentence, looking at Calleigh. "Are you crying?" He asks, concern in his voice and written all over his face.

"Nah, nothing. You just go home and do your thing. We'll be fine," Calleigh replies, but her heart sinks from the thought of him leaving.

"I just need some stuff for work, and I don't know when Jack'll be back. If you want anything to eat, I can order pizza on my way back," Brock looks between the girls, searching for an answer.

"You're staying here?" Jess questions, before she clears her throat. "I mean. You're staying here," Jess tries to give Brock her sweetest smile. It wasn't at all meant like a negative remark when she delivered the line as a question. It just caught her off guard, that Brock actually had the intention of staying here. With Calleigh. Stupid brain, she thinks for herself. Cursing at the fact that those brain to mouth filters was something you were born with, and not something you could install later on.

"Pizza is good, Brock. Thanks," Calleigh hastely shoots in to stop Jess from taking the speak before you think thing any further. It wasn't like it was embarrassing or anything, they all knew each other. Including Brock. No, what Calleigh feared the most was for Brock to catch on to her liking him.

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

As the afternoon sun sends it's last rays down on the backyard of the Rollins house. Jess, Molly and Calleigh sits poolside. Fet in the water and a bottle of beer i hand, listening to the birds soothing tones.

"Not into you? Seriously, Calleigh?" Jess almost laughs. "He's staying here with you. What does that tell you?" She continues, tilting her head a bit and making that signature Jess move, raising one of her eyebrows.

"What it tells me is that my dad is overly protective, and that he asked Brock to look after me. That's what it tells me," Calleigh replies. It's not like she doesn't want Brock to be into her. Because that would be absolutely amazing. But it will also be frightening as hell.

"You're 20 years old, Calleigh. You don't need a babysitter anymore. Brock knows that. He's staying here because he wants to, not because your dad asked him," Jess continues to push on, earning a hard nod from Molly, as to show she's with Jess on this one.

"Have you actually seen my dad?" Calleigh argues. "You guys of all people should know that you don't say no to him, you just don't," she continues as memories from her junior high School years fills her head.

Jack Rollins was 6'2" with piercing green eyes and dark hair. He was the sweetest person alive,but he looked scary. He was injured during his last tour in Afghanistan in 2008, which had earned him a pretty nasty scar on the lower right side of his face. Once he got used to the scar, he carried it like war paint, and used if for all it was worth. Especially when it came to Calleigh and her dates. It wasn't like she didn't get dates. Guys did ask her out, and she had a couple of movie dates during her teenage years. But it never turned into anything serious. Mostly because of Jack, and his way of greeting her dates, when they picked her up. She especially remembers this one time. Damien, a guy two years older than her, from Jess' class had asked her to the movies. She was 14 years old, and Damien had just turned 16, and had his drivers license. That was a big deal for Calleigh, she was thrilled when he asked her out. Putting on her nicest outfit, and spending way too much time in front of the mirror before he picked her up. And then Jack had greeted him in the door, holding his Glock-17. She can laugh about it now, but back then, she was beyond embarrassed. And Damien, poor Damien, he almost forgot his own name. And when Jack sent her off with "Have her home by ten. You know I was Delta Force, right?" Damien almost forgot which side of the car he was supposed to enter. It was safe to say that Damien never took her to the movies after that.

"Brock tells Jack no. I've heard him do that several times," Molly shoots in. She's right. Brock did tell Jack no. And Brock did argue with Jack. The two men were best friends, and they had been best friends for over 30 years. But they could argue and discuss. That went both ways. But it never turned into anything serious. Calleigh can't remember a single time that the two men really had a falling out. Sorta like the friendship she had with Molly and Jess. A friendship that'll last for life. "Why does your dad feel that you need a babysitter anyway?" Molly questions.

Calleigh shrugs. "Well, Brock has this new truck. And he was parked in our driveway when I came home yesterday. I didn't recognize the truck, and the garage door was open. So...," she stops for a second. Remembering how extremely sexy Brock looked in his work jeans with the cloth tucked down the side and the oil stains on his upper body. "I sorta called the police," she continues, trying to push that image to the back of her head, push it down that drawer where everything she doesn't want to remember or think about is. That drawer is starting to fill up now, which makes it harder to close.

Jess snorts, then she start to laugh, wiping away the beer that spurted from her nose and mouth from the snort. "Oh my God. I just got beer in my nose, but it was so worth it. You called the cops on Brock?" She continues to laugh so hard that if they didn't know her, it would be impossible to understand what she was saying.

"This is a story for the wedding for sure," Molly chimes in, giving Calleigh a friendly nudge on the shoulder.

"No, please no. I already had that image in my head. Do not mention this ever again, please," Calleigh begs, but she can't help but laugh. The thought of a wedding, any wedding makes her happy. Weddings were nice and beautifully romantic. And the aspect of her own wedding, she couldn't deny that brought a smile to her face.

"Aaawwww.. You imagine marr-," Jess starts, but Brock's voice from the portch door cuts her off.

"Pizza's here!" He informs, before he walks over to the outside dining area to set it up for them to eat.

A wave of yeasty freshly baked pizza dough, cheese, fresh vegtables, haljapenos and perfectly coocked meat hits their nostrils as Brock opens the boxes revealing the fresh goodness.

"The Mediterranean," Brock exclaims like he was intorducing a band or something. "I hope that's still your favorite," he questions, giving Calleigh a nervous look.

"Aaaaawww, he remembered your favorite," Jess chimes in, once again without thinking. Earning herself a nudge from Molly.

"What?" Brock asks. His heart beating out of his chest. Did Calleigh talk about him? Man, he wish he knew what she said. But, then again, the comment did come from Jess, and you could never know what was going on inside her head.

"Pizza, yum!" Jess hastely replies, grabbing a slice and takes a big bite "Mmmmm," she hums, giving Brock a big smile, hoping that her comment will be brushed off as tipsy talk, or just Jess being Jess.

"I... I'm gonna grab a beer, you want one?" Brock asks. He feels his face is burning up, and the sun is about to set, so it's definetly not from the sun. And a beer seemed like a perfectly good excuse to get away from the situation for a minute or two.

"Sure. Thanks Brock," Calleigh sends him a smile.

Her voice is like music to his ears. And her smile, it makes him go weak in the knees. Yes, he knows that it's Calleigh, but he can't deny these feelings. He just can't.

As soon as Brock dissapeares back inside. Molly looks at Jess. "You do know that when you talk, people hear you, right?" She questions, but with a wink, so that Jess'll know that she's not really mad. The three best friends had their own language that way. They could say almost anything to each other without it being seen as a negative thing. Maybe that was what had held them together all these years.

"I know, I know. But he remembered her favorite," Jess replies, placing her hands over her heart to show how sweet she think that was. "And did you see that he didn't order anything with garlic?" She continues, waving her hand to the three pizza boxes on the table. "Kissy, kissy," she teases, wiggeling her eyebrows as she friendly nudges Calleigh's shoulder.

Calleigh looks at the boxes Jess gestured to, then she looks at the house. The thought of kissing Brock fills her whole body. She can almost feel his lips on hers just by thinking about it. She bites her bottom lip as she turns her face towards her two friends.

"Just sayin'," Jess smiles. They don't get to talk anymore about how pizza without garlic was an invite to kissing before Brock returns with the beers.

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

After a couple of hours, talking and drinking. Molly and Jess decides that it's time to leave. Molly says goodbye to Calleigh with a hug and a "Tell me how it goes." Jess is a bit more frisky and leaves with a hug and a "Go for it." If Calleigh is honest with herself, she has no idea how to do either of those things. She's not sure there'll even be any details to share with Molly at all. And to go for it? How does one do that?

As Calleigh folds up the blankets, she contemplates her options. Go to her room for the rest of the night, or ask Brock if he want's to watch a movie. No, the movie thing doesn't feel right. She takes a quick look at Brock. He's in the middle of collecting all the empty bottles and cutlery. Kiss Brock. Kiss those perfect lips that occationally curls up into this funny and teasing smile. Stop it, Calleigh, she angrilly tells herself. Her steps might be a bit to hard and angry when she walks beside the pool to put the blankets away. Stupid day, stupid Calleigh, Stupid Brock. She thinks to herself, but she can't help but turn and look at what Brock is doing. That's a move she ahouldn't have done, without realizing it, and without any kind of warning, Calleigh walks straight into the pool making a big splash.

Brock jumps from the splash, reacting instantly he runs over and jumps in the pool as well. Frantically moving away the now soaking wet blankets, before grabbing Calleigh getting her to the surface. "Are you okay? What happened?" He asks, his breath ragged. Jesus, how she scared him.

"I'm fine, I just took a wrong step. DAMNIT!" Calleigh replies. This is just fucking perfect. Making a total fool out of herself in front of Brock. That was just what was missing from this day.

Brock takes a step closer to her. His heart beating so rapidly he's sure he could pass out any second. "Are you sure you're okay?" He whispers, bringing his right hand up to cup her face. "Calleigh," he breathes out.

Calleigh doesn't know what to say or do. The feeling of Brock's big rough hand on her cheeck renders her speechless. All she can do is look at him, study every single contour on his face and neck. How his eyes looks at her, how he licks his lips, how his Adams Apple bobs when he swallows. His hand slowly moves, and two of his fingers glides in behind her ear. Calleigh takes a deep breath. This is it, she thinks. "Brock," she breathes out in a whisper.

When their noses touch each other, and Calleigh still hasn't moved away, Brock leans in and gently brushes his lips over hers. He can't tell if he's surprised, scared or both, when Calleigh parts her lips for him. But he's not letting this moment slip out of his hands. Slow and gentle he licks into her mouth, meeting her warm, soft tongue. Never in his wildest Dreams would he have imagined life to bring him to this place, to this moment. But it was without comparasing the best moment in his entire life.

Calleigh feels like she's floating. His lips are so soft and gentle on hers, and mixed with the soft sounds the water makes around them when they move closer, the whole experience is something she usually only see in movies. She has to touch him, she can't help herself. Slowly she lifts her arms placing them on his hips. His left hand moves around her, pulling her closer as he licks into her mouth again, letting his tongue slow dance with hers. Holy fuck, she's actually kissing him. She's kissing Brock.

Their breaths becomes more ragged as the kisses heats up. Brock moves both his hands behind Calleigh's back, pulling her into him. Her hands moves up his back and neck, before she lets them glide into his hair. That thick soft hair. Brock slowly moves his hands up her back, almost all the way up to her shoulders, pressing their bodies together. Her breasts pressed agains him. Sweet Jesus, it's becomming really hard not to let everything go. Just give all the fucks in the world about consequenses, and just..

Calleigh lifts her legs up, wrapping them around Brock's waist. The water makes it easier to move even if her body is shivering. She feels like she's in the middle of one of her favorite romance flicks. Everything is just so perfect. The light evening wind, blowing in the trees, like a whispered song. The lights in the pool surrounding them with a diamond like theme, and then, in the middle of it all. Her and Brock. Kissing.

Brock can feel the heat building up. He can feel himself wanting more. Not wanting to go all out right away he stops. Cradeling Calleigh's face in his hands while leaning his forehead into hers. Both of them are beathing heavily. Calleigh's legs slowly losens their grip around his waist. Sweet baby Jesus how his body reacts to her. "Are you okay?" He asks, his eyes locked on hers, searching them for answers.

"Y..Yeah. I... I'm okay," she breatlessly replies. "You?" She adds.

Suddenly it's like Brock snaps out of the dream and into reality. His brain is working again, realizing what he just did. "I... I shouldn't have done that," he confess. Gently letting go of her, he takes a step backwards, away from her. "Fuck, I shouldn't have done that," he repeats.

Calleigh's heart goes ice cold. He shouldn't have done that? Then why the hell did he? How can something be so magical one second, and then just rot the next? "W..Why?" She asks, her voice trembling, and she's sure she's about cry any second. Why did this always happen? Was she not good enough? Thinking back, she hadn't kissed that many boys. Brock was the third. Maybe she wasn't a good kisser? How could she know. Nothing ever lasted long enough for anyone to be in a possition to tell her.

The look on her face absolutely breaks Brocks heart. She looks defeated, nothing like the happy smiling Calleigh he knows and loves. All he wants to do is to kiss her again. But the thought of what that might lead to scares him, more than he cares to admit. "Come on," he says, offering his hand. He can't explaine how happy he is, when she takes it. "Let's get out of these wet clothes," he continues, guiding them both out of the pool. He continues to hold her hand, as they walk through the house and up the stairs. He doesn't want to let her go, so he holds thigh until they part ways outside her room, and he has to let it go.

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

Calleigh leans her back against her bedroom door, after she close it behind her. Did this really happen? Did he actually kiss her? It's not a dream, is it? If she pinches her arm right now, is she going to wake up? And he shouldn't have done that? What was that all about?

She curses at herself for not defying her dad early on, for not going on more dates, for not explain for the few guys she went out with that her dad was a good guy, just overly protective. And that they shouldn't take it personal. That she's not more like Jess. That she hasn't slept with anyone yet. The virgin part never used to be something she cared about. She was raised well, taught to be careful. Since her parents were very young when they had her, they told her time and time again to be careful, to use protection. She never really understood why they kept saying that to her. One time was more than enough, and she didn't want to end up in the same situation as her parents. Her mom was only 18 years old when she was born, Jack was 20, and serving in Iraq. Not to mention the fact that they were never together, when she thinks about it she didn't even know if they ever had any kind of feelings for each other. Maybe she was just a result of a drunken night, after Jack got back from Basic Training. Stupid, that's what it was.

He shouldn't have done that? Calleigh can hear his voice in her head. God! Fine, he shouldn't have done that. Good, great, perfect. He could just go home then. She could manage this house on her own.

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

Brock puts his hands on either side of the mirror in the guest bathroom. Looks at himself. Jesus, Brock. What the fuck are you doing? It's Jack's daughter, his baby girl, his pride and joy, his everything. Calleigh is was kept Jack alive that fatal October day in 2008. People keep telling him that it was him who saved Jack's life back then. He even got a medal for it. Specialist Rumlow was awarded the Distinguished Service Cross, for showing extraordinary heroism in combat. All of the people on their team was also awarded the Purple Heart. But there were only four of them left, who could actually accept the medal themselfs. What would Jack do, if he found out that Brock had kissed Calleigh, that Brock had these feelings for her? Brock can't find the answer to those questions. All he knows is that it won't be pretty. It won't be pretty at all. Should he continue down this path? Does he really want to put Calleigh through that mess?

<--------- Previous Chapter

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@nekoannie-chan @saiyanprincessswanie @late-to-the-party-81 @rip1009 @the-ero-writer @ladysif8

[d2kvirus]

15/1/24 Fact or Fiction

Statement #1: Despite RAW having a great 2023, you still enjoyed watching Dynamite more this year. FACT - For the simple reason that Dynamite is more readily available, as I can just plonk myself on the sofa and switch on ITV4...as long as the snooker or the darts hasn't overrun again, while WWE tends to involve a trip to WatchWrestling. That being said, 2023 was certainly not one of Dynamite's banner years as they spent a sizeable chunk of the year trying to lock into a groove, but only really managed it when the Continental Classic took centre stage and allowed things to be tweaked around it without being in the glare of the audience's gaze, while in comparison Raw has been more consistent

Statement #2: Seth Rollins has had a lame duck reign as RAW World Heavyweight Champion since he has been on the same brand the whole time with Cody Rhodes, who beat him in 3 straight PPV matches in 2022 but never got a shot at that title in 2023. FICTION - The only way you can call Rollins' run "lame duck" is if the bar has raised significantly from the reigns which set the definition of lame duck in stone such as Rey Mysterio, Jack Swagger or Jinder Mahal. As Riollins' reign can't be compared to any of those, as he doesn't lose all non-title matches nor is he a jobber elevated to champion in the hopes of selling some house show tickets in Iowa, calling him a "lame duck" is getting a bit too Nostalgia Critic for my liking

Statement #3: Commercial breaks during good TV wrestling matches are necessary and can be used creatively to improve the viewing experience. FICTION - Commercial breaks during matches routinely interrupt the flow and take you out of a match regardless of quality. While this isn't as bad as a commercial break in the middle of a three-minute match, where between 1/4 and 1/3 of the match is lost due to appeasing our corporate overlords, it's still the equivalent of being unable to watch the credits for a film as they've been squeezed into a postage stamp-sized space in the corner of the screen and sped up

Statement #4: Christian Cage was the MVP of AEW in 2023. FACT - While his promo and character work immediately puts Christian into the conversation for AEW MVP of 2023, what puts him over the top of guys like Samoa Joe, Mox, FTR or Orange Cassidy is the fact that he has done the impossible and revived the TNT title after a couple of years of it having its lustre tarnished by things such as the Sammy/Cody/interim/Sammy/Scorpio Sky/Sammy/Scorpio Sky hot potatoing for late 2021-early 2022 or Wardlow's eighteen month holding pattern both with and without the belt, and if one guy can undo so much damage on their own that makes them MVP

Statement #5: Since you gave a lot of scores of 8 or higher to RAW and Dynamite in 2023, if that trend continues in 2024 then the numerical scoring system itself should be changed. FICTION - Oh god, imagine if the scoring system was changed and Raw/Dynamite/Impact started getting 7/10 on the reg. Can't imagine it? Okay, well what you need to do is watch Event Horizon and skip to the scene where the original crew's last transmission is descrambled, and that's what will happen if an episode of SmackDown which ends with a lengthy Bloodline segment gets a 6.5/10

Statement #6: If you could only watch one weekly pro-wrestling show in 2024, you would rather it featured Adam “Edge” Copeland than CM Punk. FACT - ...though this is mainly down to pedantry, because Copeland is far more likely to actually be a regular face on the weekly wrestling show while Punk has already missed a few episodes of Raw since his return, which means I would actually be watching a show with the guy I expect to be there. If it were peak Punk who was guaranteed to be there three weeks out of four? I'd absolutely pick the show which Punk was on, but the Punk who is on some weeks and never mentioned others who has been missing the spark in his promos? That's why I go for the show with the guy who is far more likely to be there

Statement #7: Samoa Joe was the wrong person to take the AEW Championship from MJF. FICTION - While the most obvious guy to take the belt off the back of the Devil storyline was Adam Cole, what with him being The Devil and everything, Joe was certainly a good choice to end MJF's reign as he's been a strong and consistent onscreen presence in AEW all year (and reportedly also a strong and consistent presence backstage at Wembley...) and it certainly makes sense for him to hold the belt while also allowing AEW to reorientate their uppercard. Are there other names who could have been better calls or benefitted more? Absolutely, and that list has Swerve Strickland's name on it three or four times, but more importantly the list of potential people who would be the Xavier or Jerry Lynn in the history of the AEW title certainly does not have Joe's name on it

Statement #8: You liked the reveal of Adam Cole as “Devil” at the end of Worlds End.  FACT - While Cole was the most likely culprit for the longest time, and there were several moments foreshadowing it going back to the build to All In, that underlines how the most obvious choice is more often than not the right choice and only a swerve-obsessed doofus would have thought otherwise. More than anything else, there was a sense of relief when Cole was revealed, given the very real fears it might have been Jack Perry under the mask, especially as some of the moments were practically threatening the viewers with that possibility

[blessyouhawkeye]

[plaidbooks]

Babe I thought of a hc thing! Sonny’s girlfriend snapping at Ms. Hadid/the squad for treating him like shit! Sonny overhears the whole conversation and his reaction is: …

👀👀👀

Sonny has to compose himself as he hears you chewing out some of the squad that he once called coworkers. You, Amanda, and Kat had shown up a) to get warrants signed and b) to escort him to the courthouse, to give him (and the victims) support.

But as Sonny left the three of you to get the warrants signed in a judge’s chambers, the other two detectives started to air their grievances with Sonny.

“This guy used to be a cop?” Kat asked loudly.

Amanda nodded. “Yeah, and he still can’t do anything for us! I swear, he was a better lawyer when he was shadowing Barba. At least then, he wasn’t afraid to bend the law in our favor.”

Sonny had overheard and was waiting for you to pile on. But instead, your voice rose in anger.

“I swear, ever since Sonny became an ADA, the whole fucking squad has been against him! Why don’t you get off your asses and help get better evidence for him? Do you even understand the shit he’s been going through?!”

Amanda and Kat gaped at you. “Yeah, well, he needs to do better! Barba was able to convict with less--”

“Barba also had 20 plus years experience! Sonny just started, and you already expect him to be at that level? God knows you weren’t the best detective when you started at SVU, Rollins. And Kat, you’re still a fucking officer, so sit your ass down,” you said, glaring at them both.

“But--”

“No! You act like Sonny’s actively trying to sabotage cases! Like he’s not on your side, on the victim’s side! You, of all people Amanda, should know that he’s trying all he can. And having the squad on his ass isn’t fucking helping,” you finished, panting slightly from your anger.

Sonny blinked away his tears, and wiped the smile off his face, trying to remain neutral as he exited the judge’s chambers. Both Amanda and Kat looked ashamed, but you brightened when you saw him.

“Here’s those warrants,” he announced, handing them to Amanda. Her and Kat muttered a thanks before leaving, and you fell into step next to Sonny, heading for court. But he stopped you, pulling you to the side of the courthouse.

“Sonny? What--” you started, but he cut you off with a kiss full of love and passion.  He held you there until your head was spinning before he leaned back, smiling down at you. “What was that for?” you asked, a matching grin on your face.

“I just really love you,” he replied, pulling you towards the courtroom once more.

[a-bang-for-your-bucky]

Welcome Home (part two)

(not my gif) 

Summary: After not speaking to her brothers for over a year, Peyton Rhodes’ life is turned upside down when her boyfriend of four years cheats on her. She uproots her life with WWE and returns home to Atlanta. She finds herself among great friends and she is finding herself again after being lost for so long.

Pairings: Cody Rhodes x OFC (Sister), Brandi Rhodes x OFC (sister), Dustin Rhodes x OFC (Sister), past Seth Rollins x OFC, future Kenny Omega x OFC (maybe?), MJFx OFC( maybe?) 

WARNINGS: SO MUCH FLUFFING FLUFF, explicit language, mentioned cheating (ONE EXPLICIT DESCRIPTION),  

A/N: I tried to post this yesterday, but tumblr was not having it. Here is part two. Enjoy<3 

Seth mentioned that WWE was traveling through Atlanta and wanted to know if he could stop by my place. I had gotten an apartment close to Brandi and Cody’s place  not long after leaving. I said sure, but I was going to have someone here with me. I invited Kenny over and told him Seth wanted to talk and that I wanted, no needed, him to be there with me. 

A knock at my door pulled me from my thoughts. Gathering myself together, I answered the door.

“Hey Princess.” Kenny Omega greeted me. I didn’t reply, I only embraced him. “You gonna invite me in?” he chuckled, hugging me tightly. I nodded against his broad chest. We released each other and moved into the apartment.

“Hey Ken.” I finally greeted him as the door closed. He smiled lightly. He knew I was still hurting.

“How are you?” He asked, sitting down on my couch. I shrugged, taking place next to him.

“Honestly, I feel worthless. Ken, I can’t explain it. I don't understand how he can still have this affect on me.” I said, no real emotion in my voice. 

“Peyton Rhodes, you are not worthless.” Kenny rebutted, shocked at my words. “You are wrestling royalty. You are talented. And honest to God, you have Kenny Omega,” He paused to point to himself, “wrapped around your pretty little finger.” He explained, grabbing my hands. “Pey, you are my best friend. You are amazing and I hate to see you think otherwise. I could kick Seth’s ass all the way back to Iowa for making you feel this way.” I laughed, scooting closer to him. 

“Kenny, thank you for coming. I couldn't do this without you.” I said, laying my head on his shoulder. He placed a light kiss to my hair.

We sat in comfortable silence for a while. Suddenly, a knock at the door, broke the silence. “I’ll get it.” Kenny said, getting up and walking to the door. Kenny looked through the peak hole on the door. Seeing the person on the other side filled him with rage, but he composed himself. Kenny opened the door. “Good evening, Seth.” 

“What are you doing here, Omega? This has nothing to do with you.” Seth growled. I had started to make my way to the door, prepared to split up an all-out brawl. I placed a hand on Kenny’s shoulder.

“Ken,” I said, he shifted over, so that Seth came into my sight. “Seth, I told you I was going to have someone with me.” 

“Yeah, but I figured it would be Brandi, hell, maybe even Cody.” I laughed at the mention of my brother’s name and shook my head. 

“Cody wants to kick your ass.” Was all I said and Kenny interjected, “For the record, so do I.” 

Kenny and I moved over to let Seth into the room because the last thing I needed was for a nosey neighbor hearing what was about to go down. The three of us moved into my dining room and sat at the table. I sat as far away from Seth as possible and Kenny moved his seat so we were shoulder to shoulder. 

“So, Seth. Explain yourself.” I offered him the room to talk. 

“I know what I did was awful and I will never forgive myself. But Pey, please believe me when I say she means nothing to me and I am so, so sorry.” he apologized. 

“She doesn’t mean anything? Then why are you engaged, Seth? I saw the fucking pictures, with the giant rock on her hand.” I scoffed, wondering why I did this in the first place. 

“She found the ring I bought for you, put it on, and took those pictures. We are not engaged.” he tried to defend himself, but something didn't feel right. I knew Mandy.

“That doesn’t change the fact that I walked in on you balls fucking deep in her in OUR locker room. Actions speak a fuck ton louder than words. I got the message. I wasted four fucking years on you. FOUR. I got pushed out of the title scene for you. I was basically demoted to a fucking escort.” I snarled, slamming my hands on the table.

Seth jumped and looked at me with sad eyes. He knew I was right, I almost ruined my career for him. "And I know Mandy. She may sleep with other people's boyfriends, but she wouldn't put on some random ring and announce she's engaged." Tears streamed down my face, and Kenny noticed, wiping them away. Seth’s sad eyes changed to jealous. 

“So what, are you guys together, now?” He asked, his voice laced with envy. Kenny whipped his head to face him. 

“If we were, which we aren’t, it wouldn’t be any of your fucking business. It’s called being a good friend.” Kenny seethed, gripping the edges of his chair. "You have no idea how much you hurt her." 

I could tell this wasn’t going to end well. “Thank you for telling me your side of the story. But this doesn’t change anything. I think it’s time for you to go.” I sighed, and moved to get up from the table. Seth rushed to my side. 

“That’s it? After everything, I only get 10 minutes to say my piece?” Seth questioned, offended. He went to touch me and I shrugged away. 

I shook my head. I was done. I heard more than I needed. “I spent the last 4 months coming to terms with what happened. And I’m finally happy. I found myself again, after being lost for so long,” I paused, trying to compose myself. “I learned to love myself again. I fell in love with wrestling again, and I’m not letting anyone take that away from me.” I explained, moving away from him, giving Kenny the chance to move between us. 

He pointed to the door, “I’ll walk you out.”

Seth accepted defeat and walked with Kenny, muttering a simple, “Bye Pey,” as he followed Kenny. Kenny opened the door, gesturing for Seth to walk out of it, but he stopped in the doorway. He turned around to face the other man. 

“I can see you care for her, hell, you might even love her. Don’t fuck it up, Omega.”  Seth advised. Kenny crossed his arms and scoffed. 

“I don’t need advice from the guy who cheated on her. I know how fucking amazing she is. Goodbye, Rollins.” Kenny began shutting the door before he was even out of the way. He flipped the lock and walked back to me.  

“Don’t cry anymore over him.” Was all Kenny said, wiping stray tears away from my face, before pulling me into a hug. That was the last night I ever cried over Seth Rollins. 

We ended up ordering pizza and watching movies that night. Kenny had passed out half way through ‘The Greatest Showman’ mumbling about how he hates musicals. His head was in my lap, and I was running my fingers through those beautiful blonde curls. He had been my rock these last four months. I don’t know what I’d do without him.

At that moment, I realized that I was falling for him and that scared the shit out of me. Kenny made it so easy though. I did my best to push those thoughts down and finish the movie, but they were never far away. 

The next morning, I woke up, surprisingly in my bed, when I remember passing out on the couch with Kenny. I got out of the bed and padded to the living room. “Ken?” I called out, not seeing him on the couch. 

“Kitchen.” He replied instantly. I walked to the kitchen, finding Kenny, brewing coffee. “Morning, Princess.” He said, handing me a cup. I took the cup happily, needing the caffeine. “How did you sleep?” He asked, sipping his own coffee. 

“I swore I fell asleep on the couch, with you passed out in my lap.” I teased him, moving back into the living room to sit. Kenny followed close behind. 

“Yeah, sorry about that. But I woke up and you looked uncomfortable, so I moved you.” He explained, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. 

I smiled, getting myself comfy on the couch. "So Omega, what are your plans for the day?" I asked before blowing on my hot beverage. 

Kenny looked at me with a huge grin on his face. Since AEW started, Kenny rarely had a day off to himself. "I'm glad you asked, princess. You have me for the whole day." 

I squealed, almost spilling my coffee. "Lazy day with take out and movies? Or do you want to get presentable and go out?" I asked him. 

"Let's get dressed. I want to spend a day out with my best girl." Kenny replied, setting his cup on the table, standing up and extending a hand for me to take. 

"What about Kayfabe? I'm a heel now, won’t that mess with that baby face image of yours?" Kenny shook his head. 

"Peyton. Fuck Kayfabe. Let's go out. Please." He smiled sweetly, batting those long eyelashes. And who could resist those grey-blue eyes. 

I sighed, “Fine, we can go out and face the world.” I turned and sauntered back to my room to get dressed. I picked a maroon cami, jeans, and converses. I threw my chocolate brown hair into a messy bun, brushed my teeth, and joined Kenny in the living room again. He had gotten dressed in a pair of jeans and a plain black tee. Fuck, he looked good. 

He lifted his head at the sound of my footsteps. He raised an eyebrow at my outfit. I shrugged it off. “Ready to go, Omega?” I asked, grabbing my leather jacket off the rack by my door. He hopped up, and out the door we went. 

Kenny insisted that he drive, even though he was not used to Atlanta traffic. “So I have a surprise.” Kenny started, I hummed in response. “I got tickets to the aquarium. It was going to be a birthday surprise, but since we are here now, they traded days.” 

“Ken! Are you serious? I haven’t been there in forever.” I bubbled, smiling so big, it hurt. “You are seriously the best friend I could ever ask for.” I had mentioned the aquarium a month ago, when we were talking about things we wanted to do but never really had the time for. I couldn’t believe he actually listened. 

“You are more than welcome, Pey. I knew it would make you happy. Plus, I don’t think I’ve ever been to one.” Kenny confessed, casting a glance my way before his eyes returned to the road. Kenny really was all work and no play. 

“Well, I am honored to pop that cherry for you, Omega.” I giggle, placing a hand over my heart. I could see Kenny roll his eyes before smiling. The rest of the drive to the aquarium was full of laughs and singing. 

“I’m sorry, but how do people listen to this?” Kenny groaned as Brantley Gilbert flowed through the speakers. 

I scoffed, feigning offense. “Brantley Gilbert is a Georgia native, show some respect. If you can’t deal with his music then we can’t be friends.” I shrugged, turning to face the window, before exploding in laughter. I couldn’t help but feel so free with him, and I hoped he felt the same way. 

Arriving at the Georgia Aquarium, we quickly parked and made our way inside. We started with the tropical diver exhibit. The fish were beautiful, but nothing compared to the adult man standing next to me, looking like a small child. 

He stepped closer to me, bending down to whisper in my ear. “It took less than 5 minutes to be noticed.” I cut my eyes to my right, where a few people were taking pictures. I smiled and shook my head. 

“Just keep smiling and let’s have fun.” I whispered back, reaching a head out to him to follow me through to the next tank. Kenny’s words were floating in the back of my head the whole time ‘Fuck kayfabe’. 

The rest of the day went by in a blur. I had never seen Kenny look so care-free. By the time we got back to my apartment that night, the wrestling world was buzzing. Kenny and I had gotten settled and were watching ‘The Mandalorian’ when Cody sent me a text with a link. 

Not sure what’s going on.

You should see this. *link*

If you need me, let me know.

I clicked the link and it opened to a headline. 

PEYTON RHODES MOVES ON WITH KENNY OMEGA. 

From one main eventer to another, Peyton Rhodes has her eyes set on the best in the business.   

Beneath the headline, it showed a picture of us with Kenny’s arm around my waist as we looked at the shark exhibit. I was pointing out sharks, and Kenny’s eyes were trained on me. I showed Kenny and he just laughed. “Let them talk, princess.” He casually threw his arm around my shoulders, pulling me into him and focused back on the show. I placed my phone on the cushion beside me, curled up closer to him, and shut out the world. 

[vxlkyrie]

bittersweet - i

pairing: spencer reid x reader, jay halstead x reader, sonny carisi x reader

genre: angst, fluff

warning: cursing, violence, graphic crime details, mentions of rape, mentions of death, mentions of alcohol

word count: 3.7k

summary: a huge case calls for the bau, intelligence, and special victims, causing you to cross paths with your ex – that no one in your team knew about

other parts: two, three

a/n: holy shit it’s crossover time! this is my first series, so i hope you guys enjoy this first part. i also want to point out that the members of each squad don’t line up (we have the current svu and chicago pd squads with the bau team from like season 7) so bare with me lmao

you were sitting at your desk, twisting the ring on your left hand that sparkled under the office lights.

you and the bau were having dinner at rossi’s house celebrating your five-year anniversary dating spencer. everyone was in their own little world, conversing with one another.

“happy anniversary babe,” you smiled at the love of your life, planting a kiss on his lips. “i love you.”

“i love you too.” he smiled back, admiring your features. spencer took his wine glass and stood up.

“spence, what are you doing?” you whispered as he clinked his glass with a fork, turning everyone’s attention towards him.

“i would like to make a toast,” he started. “as you all know, today is a very special day for me and y/n.” he turned to you.

oh god. you thought to yourself as you felt your face heating up.

“i remember the first time we met. you walked - well, stumbled, into the bullpen, and almost dropped the box you were carrying.” spencer said, causing the others to laugh. “i turned around and ran over to help you. as you thanked me, our eyes met. and in that moment, i knew that i was going to be a sucker for you.” he continued, making you smile wide. “after a couple of months of pining over you, you made the first move of asking me out – you weren’t one for tradition anyways. and ever since then, you have continued to make me into the man that i am today.”

you could feel tears building up.

“i was the most awkward guy in the office that annoyed everyone with statistics, but you never interrupted me. you listened to the many thoughts and facts that run through my mind every second of every day. you’ve helped me come out of my shell, taught me how to love, and i will forever be grateful to you. to five years.” he finished, taking a sip of wine before setting down the glass.

“to five years.” you and the rest of the room said, raising their glasses.

“and to five more years. and many more.” spencer said, getting down on one knee and revealing a small velvet box that contained a simple, yet beautiful ring. “y/n l/n, will you marry me?”

you slapped a hand over your mouth as tears started falling. everyone screamed in shock, with derek cheering at how bold his best friend had become.

“yes! oh my god spence, yes!” you nodded furiously, wiping the tears off your face as you let your other half slip the ring on your finger. spencer held your face as he pulled you in for a passionate kiss, cheers echoing throughout the dining room.

you were smiling to yourself, before a familiar voice catches your attention.

“y/n?” you turned to see spencer giving you a small smile. he bent down to give you a kiss on the forehead.

“hey, what’s up?”

“hotch just said we got a case.” he chuckled, knowing that you weren’t paying attention to anything but the little ring that adorned your finger.

“oh right,” you said softly, feeling like you were a kid who was caught stealing cookies from the tin. “let’s go.” you grabbed spencer’s hand and walked towards the conference room, sitting down with the rest of the team.

“glad you two could join us.” hotch teased, earning giggles from emily and derek.

“now that the lovebirds are here, let’s get started,” penelope said. “we got a call directly from captain olivia benson from special victims in new york.”

“y/n’s old boss?” spencer asked, earning a nod from you and penelope.

“anyways, there has been nine victims from new york, chicago, and richmond. most recent one was a few days ago. all women were raped and murdered.” she continued.

“none of the victims look alike, do you know if any of them are connected in any way?” jj asked. 

“not as of right now, but i’m still digging.” penelope shook her head.

“if there’s no victimology, why do they need us?” derek asked.

“maybe they were victims of opportunity.” you chirped in.

“could be. but we also need to help build a profile of the unsub. maybe predict what he’s gonna do next.” rossi added.

“and we know he’s not gonna stop anytime soon. wheels up in 30.” hotch announced, cueing the rest of the team to grab their go-bags.

-

you felt anxious as you and the bau head up to the special victims office. it’s been years since you’ve seen anyone from your old squad.

“hey liv, you wanted to see me?” you said as you stepped into your boss’s office, taking the seat in front of her desk.

“yes. you’re going to be transferring to the behavioral analysis unit in quantico.” olivia stated. your eyes widened.

“fbi? there must’ve been a mistake.” you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

“oh there is indeed no mistake. i put in a recommendation for you myself, and they had just approved it. i think you’ll make a wonderful addition to the team.”

“but,” you paused. “i love it here. i don’t see myself in any other unit other than this.” you explained as you tried to keep tears from falling.

“y/n. i know that you love it here. you are great at your job. but i see the potential that you have. you were meant for so much more. working for the fbi is an amazing opportunity for you to grow. you’ve already proved to me that you are a great detective. now prove to the rest of the world that you’ll make an even greater agent.” olivia said, ignoring that tears that ran down both of your faces.

“y/n!” a female voice called out as soon as you walked through the opened door. your eyes locked with olivia’s as you practically run into her arms, giving her a tight hug. “how’s my baby been?”

“i’ve been great.” you said as you pulled away from her. you see amanda and fin walk up to you, greeting them with hugs, as well as briefly introducing yourself to kat.

“it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” you smiled at her.

“you too, i’ve heard you left quite a legacy in special victims.” she complimented you.

“thank you. where’s sonny?” you asked, looking around to see if he was around.

“he’s on his way from the a.d.a.’s office.” amanda smirked.

“what? no way!” your jaw dropped. you smiled, feeling proud that your former partner’s late nights at fordham paid off.

“hey, whatchu doing?” you asked sonny as he opened a big textbook on his coffee table.

you decided to crash as your best friend’s apartment after a long case.

“studying. i’m taking the bar exam pretty soon.” he answered as you took the seat next to him on the couch, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“it’s already late,” you whined. “and besides, you have plenty of time until the exam. we’ve had a long day, don’t stress yourself even more.”

“i would like to sleep too, but this exam is really important to me. i’m sleeping on the couch anyways.”

“no you’re not. this is your place, you should be sleeping in your own bed. i’ll sleep here.” you pouted.

“not a chance y/n. go to sleep already.” sonny said.

“not until you go to sleep.” you squinted at him as you stayed on the couch. sonny chuckled at you, returning to his textbook.

you played with your phone on the couch for what seemed like forever. you felt your eyes slowly take over as you slipped into unconsciousness.

sonny turned to your sleeping figure with your phone laying next to your head.

“dork.” he chuckled, picking you up bridal style and laying you on his bed, placing the comforter over your body.

“sleep well, doll.”

“no way. is that y/n l/n?!” a loud voice echoed through the squad room.

speak of the devil.

you turned around to see sonny standing tall and proud with open arms. you walked towards him, wrapping your arms around his torso.

“i’ve missed you so much, doll.” he laughed. “how’s everything?”

the rest of the team laughed as they watched your little reunion with your old friends. spencer couldn’t help but smile, remembering the times you told him about your days as a special victims detective in new york.

“this is my boss, olivia benson. the sweetest woman ever – she’s basically my second mom. her son, noah, he’s the absolute cutest. she told me he started taking ballet lessons,” you said as you pointed at a picture of you and the squad eating dinner. “this is fin tutuola. he’s like my second dad. he helped me when i first started in special victims. helped me with being more tough.” you continued, flexing your arms.

“well, you are pretty tough.” spencer chuckled as he hugged his pillow closer to him.

“right here, that’s amanda rollins. she’s a total badass. she’s like jj and emily combined,” you said, earning a surprised look from your boyfriend. “she has two girls – jesse, total sweetheart, and billie, who she had recently given birth to. and this guy,” you pointed towards a taller man. “is dominick carisi jr., but we call him sonny. amazing detective. even passed his bar exam. he was my partner before i left. he was there for me when i felt like giving up, but he never gave up on me.” you smiled sadly.

“he sounds like a great man.” spencer said, running his fingers through your hair.

“he is,” you nodded. you looked up at spencer. “you okay baby?” you asked, noticing his demeanor had slightly changed.

“yeah, everything’s alright.” he gulped.

“you know i love you and only you, right?” you said, lacing your hand with his. spencer nodded. “you have nothing to worry about. sonny is my best friend. he sees me as a little sister. nothing to worry about.”

“i know.” he smiled at you. you weren’t convinced.

“hey,” you gently placed your hands on each side of his face. “seriously, you have nothing to worry about.” you practically whispered.

“and i believe you,” spencer said, placing his hands over yours. “i’m sorry if i get jealous when the love of my life talks about another man.” he confessed.

“don’t be sorry,” you sighed. “i’d be jealous too.”

“can i ask you something?” spencer asked as you took his hands into yours. you nodded at him. “did you, uh, ever had feelings for him?”

you inhaled deeply. you knew you had to be honest with him. you love him enough to trust that he wouldn’t be hurt by what you’re about to confess to him.

“for sonny? to be honest, yeah, when we first became partners,” you started, your grip on his hands getting a bit tighter. “we were just so close to each other and he protected me, and i couldn’t help but fall for him.”

“what changed?”

“i guess he only saw me as family. he told me about his little crush on amanda, and i knew that he would never see me like that. i got over it quickly, especially because i never told him how i felt. i knew that i can’t let my feelings affect my work.” you sniffed.

“thank you for telling me this y/n.” spencer said.

“well, you asked. and i trusted that you wouldn’t get mad.”

“thank you for trusting me.” he smiled, pecking your lips before you both fell asleep.

“it’s great to meet you captain benson.” hotch said, shaking hands with your former boss.

“it’s great to have you all here.” she grinned.

“this is ssa emily prentiss, derek morgan, david rossi, jennifer jareau, technical analyst penelope garcia,” hotch said, pointing everyone out as he introduced them to the special victims team. they all shook each other’s hand (with spencer waving his hand from the back of the group). “and this is doctor spencer reid.” he finished. the rest of special victims turned their heads towards the tall man that stood out from the rest of the bau.

your phone rang, notifying you that you were getting a facetime call from your old partner. you pressed the accept button, seeing the screen fill up with sonny as well as the rest of your old team.

they must be having dinner together.

“hey everyone!” you beamed at them.

“hi y/n!” sonny said first, followed by the rest. 

“it’s been so long since you’ve called.” olivia said.

“i know! i’m sorry! i’ve been flying everywhere for the past few weeks.” you apologized.

“don’t worry doll, we’ve all been busy trying to save the world.” he teased.

“so, how’s that boyfriend of yours?” fin chimed in from the background.

“yeah, what’s his name? sean?” amanda asked.

“spencer.” you laughed as you corrected her. “and he’s great! he actually fell asleep earlier.”

“damn, and just when i thought we were gonna see his face today.” amanda sighed.

“well, i think you guys are gonna meet him real soon.” you smiled.

“i know that look on your face. what do you mean by real soon?” sonny squinted at you. you smiled even wider as you held your left hand towards the camera, ring on full display, laughing as screams came from your phone.

“congratulations!”

“so this is spencer?” olivia quirked an eyebrow at you and smirked, making you and spencer blush. everyone else giggled. “come on, i’ll get you guys a room so you can set up. hotch, y/n, can we talk in my office real quick?”

the detectives led the agents into a big conference room. you glanced at spencer, giving him a look to tell you that it’s probably nothing and he shouldn’t worry about it. derek and penelope looked at you like you just got called into the principal’s office. you rolled your eyes as you stepped into olivia’s office.

“what’s up liv?” you asked as olivia closed the door.

“well, i’m sure you know that the murders took place here, virginia, and illinois.”

“that’s correct.” hotch affirmed.

“i wanted to let you guys know that i’m having chicago pd come in as well to show us what they’ve been gathering.” she said, looking at you.

“it’s a full house today.” you quipped. olivia took in a deep breath.

“specifically their intelligence unit.” she finished. your eyes immediately widened as your shoulders tensed up. your actions don’t go unnoticed by your current boss.

“are you okay y/n?” he asked, earning a nod from you. “is there something about intelligence that i should know?” he raised an eyebrow.

did someone turn up the temperature?

“i, uh, i used to date someone from intelligence.” you confessed.

“and you didn’t bother to inform me?” hotch sighed. “who?” he asked curiously, raising his other eyebrow.

“hey babe.” a male voice greeted through your phone as you held it up by your ear.

“hey jay.” you answered back as you laid in your bed.

“when’s the next time you’ll be in chicago? i heard this new japanese restaurant just opened up. we should definitely check it out when you fly over here.” he said excitedly. you smiled bitterly to yourself.

“as good as that sounds, i don’t think i’ll have time to be visiting chicago.”

“well, yeah. i mean we’re both busy, but i’m sure olivia would let you have some time off.” jay chuckled.

“i don’t think she will.”

“what do you mean?”

just spit it out already damn it.

“i-i, uh, i’m transferring units. i’ll be working behavioral analysis – in quantico.” you said, basically ripping the band-aid off.

“you’re gonna be an fbi agent? babe, that’s great! congratulations!”

“thank you. but it means i’m gonna be even more busy with work. i’ll be called in more, flying everywhere. i don’t even know if i can get a day off.” you explained.

“we can still work something out. and besides, you can come visit me when you have cases in chicago.”

“and what happens when the second i see you, i have another case in another state and have to leave?” you said, getting a little annoyed.

“y/n, it’s okay. i’ll understand.”

“jay, i don’t want you to keep waiting for me. you deserve to be with someone who will be there for you.” you felt tears building up.

“you’re there for me, even if it’s just by phone.”

“you need someone who will be there for you, physically.”

“that doesn’t matter to me, i just want you!” he exclaimed. you gulped, trying not to choke on your tears.

“you say that now. and then later you’ll be pissed that i had to cancel another flight because of another case coming in. you’ll be hurt, and i don’t want you to go through any of that. please, this is the best for the both of us.” your heart raced as jay stayed silent. “jay, please say something.”

“so, we’re just gonna break up like that?”

“jay,” you sighed. “you know i love you, and i always will, but you deserve someone who will make you happy, both emotionally and physically. and i hate that i can’t be that someone. we can’t do this anymore. don’t fight me on this one.”

“well, you can be stubborn sometimes.” jay laughed bitterly.

i can’t believe he’s trying to make me laugh while i’m covered in tears and breaking both of our hearts.

“i guess this is it then, y/n.”

“i’m sorry.” you simply said.

“yeah, me too. i won’t forget about you, you know that?”

“yeah, i know.” you softly exhaled through your nose.

“if you need anything, and i mean anything, i’m one phone call away.”

“thanks jay.” you sniffed, wiping your face clean of any remaining stray tears.

“have a good night.”

“you too.” you said, letting him hang up.

“jay. jay halstead. we broke up after my transfer got approved. but it’s not like we’re on bad terms or anything.”

you two weren’t on any terms at all. you haven’t spoken to him since the breakup. it’s as if you never knew him.

whenever the team had cases in chicago, you never mentioned to anyone about your history in that city.

“does spencer know?”

“n-no,” you said quietly, earning a look from hotch. “he never asked. look, what i had with jay was years ago, and you know i love spencer – no matter what. my past relationship will not affect our work, sir.” you explained. hotch nodded at you.

“i’ll see you in the conference room.” he said, leaving the room. you turned to olivia.

“it’s good to see you again, in person.” she said, giving you a small smile.

“you too.” you said as you got up.

“so you really love him, don’t you?” olivia suddenly asked. a smile instantly painted your face as you touched your ring.

“i do.”

-

you and hotch walked into the conference where your team was setting up, files laid out on the table as well as pictures and maps being hung on several white boards.

“you didn’t tell us you were dating an actual genius.” amanda smirked as she, kat, and carisi stood near the door, watching spencer mark the maps.

“i didn’t know shaking hands was dangerously unhygienic. should’ve introduced myself to reid with a kiss.” carisi joked, making you chuckle. you could hear derek, emily, and jj giggling at their comments.

“i like this one.” rossi said, pointing to the other italian man in the room.

“so what did benson talk to you guys about?” derek asked out loudly.

“the intelligence unit from chicago will be joining us on this case.” hotch announced, causing your old team to snap their heads at you. you remained quiet as you pressed your lips together, walking towards your fiance.

“you okay? you seemed very flushed.” spencer said as he rested a hand on your cheek.

“yeah. what do we have so far?” you changed the subject, looking at the different boards that seem to have been separated by state.

“three victims from each state.” emily said, sighing as she hung up photos from the crime scene.

“at first, we thought there were no connections between the victims, but garcia found out that one woman from each state was an alumnae of the same sororities.” spencer said as he added pictures the victims in each of their greek letters.

“these three,” you started, looking at one victim from chicago, one from new york, and one from virginia. “were in kappa alpha delta. these three,” you looked at the next set of victims. “were in sigma phi kappa. and these three were in delta xi.” you said, turning around to see derek with a surprised expression. “i was in a sorority.” you clarified.

“in all the years i’ve known you, i didn’t know you were a sorority girl.” he smirked.

“you should see her apartment. she has letters everywhere.” spencer laughed.

“anyways,” you shook your head. “are we looking at an unsub who was probably rejected by someone in each of these chapters?”

“a man whose sexual advances were rejected?” amanda asked.

“probably. it could also be a woman who wanted to join a sorority and was rejected by all of these houses.” you said.

“those three chapters have been said to be top houses.” penelope added.

“house rankings are bullshit.” you muttered to yourself. but apparently your fiance heard you, quietly chuckling over your comment.

“that doesn’t explain the rapes.” carisi quirked an eyebrow.

“what did the autopsy report say?” jj asked.

“cause of death was a clean slit to the throat. each woman was sodomized before they were killed – wait a minute.” kat said as she read off the file.

“what is it?” emily asked.

“blood report found traces of rohypnol and brodifacoum.”

“brodifacoum?” derek asked.

“rat poison.” you answered. “we’re looking for a female unsub.”

“why female?” carisi asked.

“poison is usually associated with female killers,” spencer answered. “also, the m.e. wrote down that each woman was sodomized with what could possibly be a blunt object.” he explained, carisi nodding at him.

“damn, they’re good.” fin said.

a knock caused everyone to turn their heads towards the door that quickly opened, revealing olivia.

“hey liv, what’s going on?” fin asked.

“intelligence just arrived.” she said. you gulped the lump that suddenly appeared in your throat.

shit.

[barbasbodaciousbeard]

IF You Love Someone, Let Them Go: Part 5

Summary: Since starting with SVU, Sonny hadn’t kept much terribly close to the chest. The squad knew about his family, growing up on Staten Island, the classes at Fordam. What was hidden was why he didn’t date. Sonny Carisi was also separated from his childhood sweetheart, a separation neither ever took to divorce. They had the same haunts. They’d grown up neighbors. Their paths crossed every few months, and divorce talks would turn into reminiscing would turn into a night spent together, sometimes sex sometimes just talking until the early morning. It always ended with one of them waking up alone however. How will that change when the squad finds out?

Pairings: Sonny Carisi x Original Character,

1 - 2 - 3 - 4

March 2015

“You’ll see me two times in three weeks,” Victoria smiled, wine in hand as she settled in the seat beside Sonny. It was Tommy and Bella’s engagement party, which Gianni was treating as a bridal shower. The whole engagement would only have been three months, and it seemed the two younger Carisis had cost her the months of parties and planning Gina and Teresa had given her. At least Sonny and Victoria had gotten married in a church a year after they eloped. Tommy and Bella would be getting married outdoors, while she was pregnant. Everyone pretended not to notice the slightest bit of a bump, easily confused for weight gain if you didn’t know, when Gianna was around before fussing over Bella the minute she left.

“I’m a lucky bastard.”

“I hope you told your squad.”

“We’re all going out the Saturday before. I’m doing it then.”

“Really pushed it off, huh?” she asked, and he didn’t like the hurt she was trying to hide. 

“The cases got heavy during the holidays. And then we busted up a sex ring and I was undercover. That also felt like a weird time. I kinda realized there wasn’t going to be a good one.”

“Yeah. Tommy and Bella inviting them kinda twisted your arm, huh?”

“Yeah. But it’s good. The last step.”

“They all coming?”

“Olivia for sure. I think Rollins and Amaro are coming together, and then honestly? Barba will when he finds out there’s gossip. He’s kind of a dick, but an amazing attorney. I really wanna shadow him sometime, but I’m too green to ask, y’know?”

“Yeah. I’m sure it’ll be nice when the time comes. And I think it’ll make Bella and Tommy happy. If it weren’t for them, it coulda been bad.”

“I got brother brain instead of cop brain, so yeah. I still can’t believe she’s having a baby.”

“It’s wild. And I know you don’t like Tommy, but he’s got a good heart.”

“And got locked up.”

“Everyone has their own problems.” 

“Yeah,” he muttered. “Same deal as Gina’s wedding? No marriage problems talk. Just have fun and be sentimental.”

“Deal. Though if your squad asks, I’m not ignoring it.”

“Fair. But also tell the cute stories.”

“I’ll bring the photo albums.” He laughed, arm settled around her shoulders. When they’d moved out, she’d taken to collecting all the pictures of them and adding them to a photo album. She’d gotten copies of dozens of pictures from his mom, who had always kept them organized by year in boxes. When she left, Victoria took them, and he missed being able to thumb through the pages. There were multiple volumes at this point. The pages got harder to find. She didn’t scrapbook. Instead, she used the pages with four slots each, keeping them up as time went on. He wouldn’t be surprised if there were pictures from Gina’s wedding in the most recent. Maybe there were even pictures of them separate from each other to bridge the gap. 

“Please don’t give Rollins and Barba that ammo. They’ll steal the really bad ones.”

“I like the ones from prom the best. Could we look any more 2004?”

“We looked damn good.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s not super dated.”

“True. It’s okay. We got the pictures from Gina’s wedding. We don’t look like we’re separated in them.”

“True. You got the dimples on full display.”

“I seen the dresses Bella picked. I know you hate it. You won’t like this one so much.”

“I love it.” He raised a brow at the feigned enthusiasm. “Dom, that pink is gonna be so bad on a pale red head.”

“I like you in pink.”

“You like me in anything.”

“Because you look good in anything. Dark green’s my favorite though.”

“Mine too. Thank God for Gina. I’ll wear that dress again.”

“I’m sure I’ll have to go to some fundraising thing…”

“You asking me to be your date before you even know?”

“You’re always who I ask to be my date.”

“I better be. We’re married.”

“Gettin’ awful territorial, Mrs. Carisi.”

“You put your ring on your hand today.”

“And you put them both on the right finger.”

“It’s almost like we’re making progress.”

“I want to tell you. I’m ready. But not until after the wedding.”

“Why then?”

“In case you don’t look at me all happy anymore.”

“Literally nothing you could tell me could make me not want to work on it. Unless you cheated on me.”

“You’re the first, last, and only.”

“You are too.”

“We oughta stop being sappy. People are coming and we got put with people we don’t know.”

“Gross. It’s like ma is mad at me.”

“I’m just glad she knew better than to try and make us sit apart. I’m sittin’ with my wife.”

“You two aren’t even pretending to be awkward,” Bella teased, leaning to hug Victoria and then her brother. “This nonsense almost over?”

“Butt out,” Sonny warned, but he was still smiling. “Strictly married talk.” 

“Two weeks and ya can’t use that excuse.”

“Then it’ll be strictly talks with my wife.”

“Stop, Dom,” Victoria laughed. “You look beautiful, Bella. How you feeling?”

“Kid’s making me tired as hell. I’m excited though. Tommy talks to her every night. It’s been hard, after what that bitch did. But he’s doing so good.”

“I can tell. I’m just glad you’re so happy.”

“I really am, T.” 

“You look beautiful. I like this dress a lot.”

“Thanks. I like feeling all bridal.” Sonny was content to watch Bella and Victoria catch up. Over the last year, he’d come to realize every time they talked came around to when Victoria was taking him back. He probably hadn’t helped that any, constantly acting like he didn’t know why she’d gone. Thanksgiving had changed that. He stood up to his mom more, told her he was in therapy, and openly defended Victoria. The last part wasn’t new, but this time it was specific to her decision to leave. He’d told his family in no uncertain terms that, while he thought she should’ve told him earlier instead of letting the hurt fester, he had done something wrong and he was trying to fix that so they could start over. His mom and dad didn’t like that. Generationally, bottling up feelings was more acceptable to them. His sisters, on the other hand, hugged him tight and told him they were proud of him. 

Their table filled up quickly as guests arrived, and Sonny was happy to help Victoria keep conversation moving until his parents spoke. That was the plan for tonight. Appetizers, speeches from the bride and groom’s parents, dinner, dessert, and finally dancing and cocktails. It was quickly apparent all the family’s required-but-barely-liked invites went to the table they’d put Victoria and Sonny at, a sure sign Gianna was over dealing with their drama. He was thankful his sister wouldn’t be having assigned seating at the reception for anyone, the bridal party included, though the thought of having Victoria joining his squad at a table made him nervous.

“I thought they’d never go dance,” she said softly against his ear, and Sonny smiled more from the closeness than the sentiment. Damn, it felt good to have her on his team. She wasn’t there day in and out, so these events felt more valuable to him now.

“Right? He’s from dad’s work. Known each other forever. I don’t know why the hell they invited him.” Her hair tickled his cheek as they gossiped, watching the people around the room and nursing their drinks. He decided they didn’t have a heavy case, so he’d tell the squad the next day, that way the giddiness of the evening would still be fresh. When they’d both finished their drinks, he took her hand, pulling her towards the floor. 

“I was comfy,” she protested half heartedly before she realized he’d pulled her up for Sinatra. One hand on his shoulder and the other in his, she let him lead the few moves they’d learned in a ballroom class they’d taken. It had only been a couple years into their marriage, and they took it because it made them feel older and less like imposters. Now, all either could really remember was a boxstep, and their frame was terrible. That didn’t matter though. What did matter was Sonny resting his temple against hers to sing softly against her ear. When one swing tune melted into another, she was grateful Gianna had picked the music for this wedding event. 

“Looks like we get to dance all slow again,” he teased, giving her a spin before holding her close.

“For someone getting mad when we get along, your ma worked real hard for us to get along.”

“She’s just mad it isn’t like when we were kids. If we fought in middle school, she’d give us a pizza, and we’d be over it.”

“Very true,” she grinned, looking up at him. He looked handsome, and after what came out to two years of seeing him deteriorate, she was grateful he was actually getting back to himself. She wasn’t sure if therapy, the job, or the slow progress they were making was the reason, but he was her Sonny again. He kept his hair cropped, face shaved, and smile present.

“You’re staring,” he teased before tightening his grip to dip her. 

“You look good. Like not just handsome. Happy.”

“Thanks,” he smiled softly when he pulled her up again. “I’m learning to process stuff better.”

“That’s good.”

“It sounds messed up, but thank you for leaving. It made me go to therapy. I really wasn’t being good to you, Tor. And I’m sorry for that.”

“I forgive you, Dom. I wasn’t doing a good job talking to you about it. I’m sorry for not pressing until we hit the point of no return.”

“It’s okay,” he said, forehead resting on hers. “I think we’re gonna be okay.”

“Me too.”

“Can we get somebody to take pictures of us?” 

“Bella got a photographer, and he has definitely taken several.”

“This camera shy Sonny or detective Sonny noticing?”

“It’s Sonny seeing Gina tell him to.”

“You ever feel like the kids are trying to get us back together?”

“All the time, doll. You know how often Gina or Teresa go after me? Then Bella meddles. But Mia? She’s 17 and bound and determined she’s going to be the one to talk sense into me. And she kind of is. She actually talked to me about therapy.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. She doesn’t know why but knows my brain shuts down when I try to open up. Heard me tellin Teresa. Said it’s toxic masculinity makin’ me feel like talking about feelings is girly and I gotta get over that if I wanna stay married and making you happy.”

“I ever tell you Mia’s my favorite?”

“She’s got a good head on her shoulders.”

“How long until we can run away and go to a bar?”

“Anybody else left yet?”

“Your cousin Lauren and some of Bella’s friends.”

“What bar you thinking? Because you look too pretty to not take to some classy wine bar.”

“That works for me.”

“Then let’s go tell Bella and Tommy bye.”

“What about Gianna?”

“It’s not her engagement.” Victoria almost felt like they were back in high school and cutting class as they said their goodbyes and got their coats. Why the hell his sister was getting married outdoors in winter was beyond Victoria, but she was grateful for the fact they’d probably end up rained out and inside for the ceremony. Sonny hailed a cab, waving when he saw his mother watching them from a window. 

“She’s pissed, Dom.”

“Too bad. Taking you to a nice wine bar. Ordering a cheese board.”

“You’re making it sound like a date.”

“I been shit and ain’t taken you on one in two years. Can it be?”

“I’d like that.” She was nervous, but it had become apparent he was trying. From what he said, in a couple weeks he’d be willing to open up. He was also communicating with her as it was. Maybe treating the next two weeks as a trial run could be good. Ease into the heavy discussion. He’d mentioned being afraid how she’d react. Maybe if she was always there again, he’d realize she wasn’t leaving. 

“C’mon, whatcha thinking Tor?”

“Just that I’m happy we’re making progress,” she fibbed, lacing their fingers. He looked to their hands and smiled, squeezing her fingers gently. 

“Me too.” Soon enough they were settled at the bar, and Sonny, true to his word, had ordered a bottle of wine and a cheese board. She was turned to face him, legs carefully crossed. He had the leg towards the room on the footrest around the base of her stool. She was boxed in, but it felt reassuring when paired with his hand on her leg. 

“So what’s this new squad like?” Sonny had never quite settled in anywhere since he’d become a detective, and he seemed smitten with his spot in Manhattan. 

“So Barba is the ADA. Covered him. Liv is Lieutenant. Nobody ever really gave me a shot before. Apparently I can be abrasive.” He threw the hand not on her leg up in mock affront, and she laughed. 

“You? Never.”

“I know,” he said, ignoring her sarcasm. “Rollins is cool. She’s been through a lot. She’s from Georgia though. I know you mostly grew up here, but you get that same Southern catty as her. Means it doesn’t get to me, because I know the secret. That she doesn't really mean it. Amaro is cool too. Had some problems too. Come to think of it, I don’t know why I’m acting like they won’t understand or accept our marriage. Fin’s been there longest, other than Lieu.”

“They treating you well?”

“They are. I think I’m finally not just a newbie. Barba gets mean. He’s not southern snarky though, so I think he means it.”

“I’ll fight him.”

“You’d win. He’s got a big mouth, but I don’t think he’d be scrappy.”

“I’m just real proud of you.”

“That means a lot to me, Tor.”

“You worked real hard. I watched that. And you’re going to be an amazing attorney.”

“I think I wanna try for the DA’s office if I pass the bar next year.”

“You’ll pass the bar.”

He rolled his eyes, pouring her another glass of wine as he topped off his own. When the night was over, he walked her to her door, kissing her goodnight and going to his own apartment. Sonny had decided that if it was going to be a date, he’d be a gentleman. Things were still delicate, and he had to leave early when she had a day off. He did text her the next morning to say he’d enjoyed their date, not wanting to have the wedding be the next time they talked. When he arrived at the precinct, he went to Olivia’s door, knocking. 

“What’s going on, Carisi?”

“Since the squad’s coming to my sister’s weddin’ now, I felt like I gotta tell everybody I’m married and it’s really confusing.”

“Since you hadn’t mentioned it, I assumed you were getting a divorce.”

“You knew?”

“I did get sent your file when you started here. You know, I do read those.”

“I messed up bad, y’know? She’s a baker, right? And I’ve known her since I was five. Got married when we were eighteen. It was all good until I got to homicide.” Oliva gave him a sympathetic, knowing smile. “What I told you guys? How the women got to me? I was scared if I told her, I’d, like, tarnish her. Make her see all the bad stuff we see. It’s amazing talking to her, Lieu. She never stopped seeing the best in people. And I stopped acting like her husband because I thought just being close to me would transfer all of it. She left me, but we’re in a weird limbo. She’s in the wedding, and we act married when we see each other. This’ll only be the sixth time in a year and a half. But I don’t want her to meet everyone and they’re all like who the hell are you.”

“This job can make that part of life incredibly difficult, Carisi. I feel the same way sometimes about Noah. What if they take him? What if I’m so paranoid he grows up paranoid? Or god forbid he sees pictures? I try to refocus it. I think about how he can make light in those bad times. I don’t know much about her, but I’m guessing she does too?”

“She does.”

“Tell her, Carisi. If she knows something is wrong, she’ll be able to get through it.”

“I’m telling her after the wedding. My therapist said it might make it less stressful. I’ve been afraid she’ll change her mind when I tell her.”

“It’ll work out. It is a smart idea to make sure everyone knows. Barba’s coming with me, so I’ll make sure he knows and keep him in line.”

“Thanks Lieu. For this whole talk, but also giving me a shot.”

Tag List: @cycat4077 @fear-less-write-more

[piratejct]

* 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐭, 𝐜𝐢𝐬 - 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 + 𝐡𝐞 / 𝐡𝐢𝐦 | you know 𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐬 𝐞𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐰, right? they’re 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲-𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, 𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫 by 𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole 𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐮𝐦𝐞, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫, 𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is 𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝟐𝟖𝐭𝐡, so they’re a 𝐯𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐨, which is unsurprising, all things considered.

NAME: elias eskew  NICKNAME(S): el, ellie D.O.B: august 28th, 1997 AGE: 23 BIRTH PLACE: york, england CURRENTLY RESIDING: irving, north carolina  SEXUALITY: homosexual OCCUPATION: drag queen & employee at rockin’ and rollin’ 

tw: homophobia, bullying, anxiety, depression. 

BACKSTORY: 

born in york but grew up nyc. has an older brother, a twin sister and pretentious, rich parents who believe that their way is the only way. sadly, their way is all about being homophobic and unnecessarily demanding, so.. that’s why elias was pretty much kicked out of the household when he was fourteen. 

well, okay, not kicked out, because legally you can’t kick out a teenager and still have an ace reputation among your peers, so they did the next best thing and sent him away to irving, to live with his aunt. then, of course, they proceeded to tell whoever asked that boy was very unstable and needed special attention that they couldn’t provide at home because they’re always #working&flexing. it was a big bunch of “oh my god, we love him so much but there’s nothing we could do for him here and of course we want all the best for our sweet, totally not homosexual son, so he’ll have to be there until he’s less homosexual troubled.” 

went great. amazing. no, seriously, it couldn’t have been better for elias because while he missed his sister a whole fucking lot, his aunt actually turned out to be a super cool lady? she didn’t push him to play sports or not fuck around with make up. she even supported his theatre dreams and came to see all the school plays he was in, so, uhhh.. jokes on you, mom and dad.

irving is pretty much where elias blossomed. unlocked at least 52 achievements. went to high school, got badly bullied for being feminine and incapable of catching the ball in dodgeball ( “when it clearly fucking says you should dodge!” ) but it wasn’t all bad! he was very appreciated in the musical theatre department and got to play the lead role, like, twice. ‘twas kick-ass and he felt like a hollywood star. <3 

started dabbling in drag sometime during senior year. his sister came over one easter break and taught him a whole lotta shit about make-up so that was neato but aside from that he learned from watching youtube videos and experimenting. 

went to the local university where he studied performing arts. his parents actually paid for his studies but it was more of a “wow, really, betty? you don’t pay for your child’s education? tragic” stunt on their part. faux-supporting your kids gives you bragging rights! but he totally didn’t mind! could actually spend whatever money he’d make at his then bartending job and invest it into drag. he did it part-time while completing the degree. 

after graduating, however, it became a full time thing. or, you know, as full time as it can be. on the side, he also picked up a job at rockin’ and rollin’, because gosh, was he tired of constantly hanging out at bars. 

the dream, currently, is to hang out in irving, where he’s comfortable, a bit longer before heading out into the world to live the big city dreams. has been considering new york, since he always loved it there, but we’ll see. he’s got time. 

lives now with a couple of friends but hangs out with his auntie every once in a while. she sometimes shows up to his shows and brings roses. it’s honestly beautiful and makes him cry.

PERSONALITY: 

+ expressive, alluring, animated - melodramatic, self-critical, obnoxious 

x on the subject of crying? he cries a lot. sometimes as a joke, but sometimes.. very much not. an emotional boy, quite sensitive. expresses his emotions in a way that, for the most part, you kinda know what’s on his mind. 

x exaggerated as fuck, in everything he does. always been a huge dreamer and just loves living his fantasy, really. moves in a way that’s very, like, gentle and graceful. is a huge actor and pretty much always on his toes. sometimes switches between characters mid-conversation and gives you three different improv sequences, but he’s not like “ooh, look at me, i’m sooo skilled, i have a degree!” about it, y’know? it’s more of something he does without necessarily realizing? because he just loves pretending he’s someone else. his go-to persona is this ditzy, little bitchy shtick, which sometimes makes people think he’s dumber than he actually is. 

x but don’t get me wrong. he definitely is a dumb bitch. 

x so fashionable, though. loves to look good. wears a lot of women’s clothing because it fits him and helps him feel this paris fashion week illusion. but also catch him rocking high-heeled boots, crop tops, scrunchies. and silk. satin. he’s a hoe and a half for that stuff. 

x smells of roses and vague desperation. wants to always be the prettiest person in the room. likes to flirt with people and sleep around bc it makes him feel attractive. <3

x actually super insecure at heart and lowkey wants validation. anxious as fuck and used to be pretty depressed, but that’s gotten bit better now. 

x lightweight baby lesbian who can’t drive and gets drunk off of two mimosas and some rose wine. 

x his drag persona is g.litter ( gee, miss litter if you’re nasty. ) she’s sparkly, glittery, elegant and has probably killed all four of her husbands and taken their money. wears the highest heels and would look gorgeous covered in blood. he lives for her. 

x idk, sometimes he can be a handful but if you’re willing to deal with that? he’s a very nice boy. genuinely means well and just wants to have a laugh, i guess. also, big wine mom energy. 

x can’t actually rollerskate. 

WANTED CONNECTIONS: 

um, everything?? throw it at me <3 

[caramarafics]

Reckless (Seth Rollins)

Seth Rollins x OC Maya Grey One Shot 

Warnings: just sad.

A/N: Soooo.... this has been in my drafts for awhile now and after some positive motivation from @royallyprincesslilly​ @thedeboniardevistation​ and @bigstrongblackheart​ I’ve just decided to post it. 

Hope you like it. 

AUGUST 23, 2015 11:27 PM

MANHATTAN, NY

DING!

The elevator comes to a halt upon the arrival of yet another floor. A robotic, yet feminine voice came over the speaker to announce:

“You have arrived at the twenty-third floor.”

The metal doors slowly open to reveal a black and gray hallway with artwork of abstract watercolor paintings hanging on the walls. Standing towards the back of the car, leaning against the safety bar, I watch as my aunt Isobel steps off the elevator. Placing one hand in front of the elevator door so it wouldn’t close she scans the hallway, looking left and then to the right, all to make sure that there was no one around.

After a few minutes, she finally turned her gaze back into the elevator towards me. A small, loving smile softly forms and she extends a hand.

“Come on cariña,” she whispers.

I nod my head and, with a heavy sigh and a push off the safety bar, I throw the thick strap of my Diva’s Championship over one shoulder and my gym over the other. I step off the elevator and into the waiting arms of my aunt and we begin our walk down the hall. 

Isobel puts one hand on the swell of my back while the other pulls her suitcase. My gaze fell to the floor as we walked, focusing on the hotel’s unusual carpet pattern while she scanned the placards on the wall looking for our room. Every so often I could feel her eyes practically burning a hole into me before quickly turning away to look back up at the placards. 

She was worried. She had every right to be. Since leaving the Barclay Center over an hour ago I had barely said a single word. Not to her, to Roman, no one. I was catatonic and numb. 

But who could blame me? After what just happened, anyone would react the exact same way if they were in my shoes.

As we made our way down the hall, I could feel my phone consistent buzzing through the thin fabric of Roman’s hoodie he had lent me back in Brooklyn. Slow at first, but quickly becoming more often with every unanswered second passing by.

Call me crazy, but it almost felt like with every step I took, my phone would go off.

Step.

Buzz.

Step.

Buzz.

Step, step.

Buzz, buzz.

Step, step, step.

Buzz, buzz, buzz.

Normally I would have answered it by now. But instead, I choose to ignore whoever it was and kept on. 

We reached the very end of the hall and finally stopped in front of a door marked 1127. From the corner of my eye, Isobel pulls out a key card from the pocket of her jeans and slide it into the automated lock. A few short whirring, buzzing sounds later, a green light flashes and a loud *click* signals the door had unlocked. She turns the handle, pushes the door open, and then moves to the side to usher me into the room. She follows right behind me, but not before grabbing the “Do Not Disturb” sign from behind the door and hooks it on the handle outside the room.

The door shuts and Isobel sees a small touchscreen wall panel placed by the door. She presses the button marked Lights and the overhead lights come on, revealing the room to us.

Placing my title belt on the dresser, I look around at what would be my new home for the next two nights. For the most part, the room looked like every other hotel room I’d stayed in while on the road. Granted, this was probably the most luxurious of most of them, but still pretty standard. 

There were two Queen beds each donning a fancy purple duvet with no less than eight of the fluffiest pillows I have ever seen in my life, a giant flat screen TV mounted above a black dresser, cashmere floor rugs draped across cherry hardwood floors, a cozy little reading area near the windows with a small leather loveseat, and a wet bar fully stocked with overpriced snacks and tiny bottles of alcohol. 

The only thing that did make the room stand out from all the others, however, was the incredible view. A floor-to-ceiling window panel was centered on the main wall of the room and, because of our floor being leveled with the New York skyline, displayed a near perfect image of downtown Manhattan. There was even a clear view of the Empire State building in the background, lit up in red and blue lights as night blanketed the city.

Moving over towards the beds I toss my gym bag onto the one closest to the window and sit at the foot of the bed, looking out the window. Looking out at the city I couldn’t help but think about how different my life was less than 24 hours ago. I was staying in Brooklyn with the rest of the WWE, getting ready for SummerSlam. I was in this beautiful hotel suite that overlooked the Brooklyn Bridge with the love of my life, my fiancé. My bridesmaids and I had had our final fittings for our dresses, I was getting all the final details ready for my October wedding…

But that was all before a few hours ago.

Before everything had gone to complete and utter shit.

How could this have happened? How could he do that to me? I thought to myself. 

But before I could think of some sort of explanation, the sound of boots clanking across the hardwood floor followed by the thud of Isobel’s purse landing on top of the dresser next to my title.

“Well,” she says with a satisfied sigh, “this is nice. Really nice as a matter of fact, especially with it being super last minute.”

I bring my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around them and placing my chin on top, never once looking away from the window. “It’s fine, I guess.” I manage to mumble out.

“Fine?” she snorts, “Maya, come on! Look at what we got. Gorgeous view, fancy sheets, free Wi-Fi, a fully stocked bar...”

I hear movement from behind me and see a light flick on through the window’s reflection. “Oh my-, Maya you’ve gotta see this bathroom! It’s got a huge shower and…” she pauses, “Oh. My. God. The floors are heated. Cariña the floors are heated!!”

But I don’t move. I don’t spring up from the bed to revel in her excitement over heated floors or whatever other fancy details the room had to offer. Instead, I just sit there in silence, holding myself as I gaze out into the city and its nightlife. 

I observe the streetlights perched on the sidewalk creating an ominous glow on the pavement. The mixture of city cars and yellow taxis, halted by ongoing traffic as they struggle to reach their destination on time. The small groups of tourists stopping every few minutes for selfies with various buildings in the background, including this very hotel.

All the while my mind replays the events from earlier. A single tear manages to escape from my eyes as my subconscious began to torture me with a play-by-play of what happened. It all still felt like a dream to me, a sick twisted nightmare that no matter how hard I tried I just couldn’t wake up from. My brain searched and scanned through every single memory collected from the last three years of our life together.

It was desperate to find any little detail that I may have missed that could explain just where everything went wrong. Something that could’ve prepared me for what would eventually happen.

But I find nothing.

No hints, no little clues. 

No hidden messages or blaring warning signs.

Nothing that screamed out: “Maya don’t be alarmed, but just two months before you’re supposed to get married… you’re gonna find your fiancé half naked with another woman.”

Boy that would’ve been a great fucking warning now, wouldn’t it?

I was so lost in thought that I didn’t feel the bed dip or that Isobel was now sitting right behind me. I nearly jumped out of my skin when her hand found its way into my hair, softly playing with it and twirling the ends around her fingers. Another arm wrapped itself around my stomach to embrace me. My body quickly relaxes and I lean into her embrace, my head resting just above her chin. The hand that was in my hair moves to join the one around my stomach and I feel Isobel’s lips plant a soft, motherly kiss at the base of my temple as she gently rocked me.

I knew just how much it pained Isobel to see me like this; a deflated, catatonic alien that had replaced her bubbly and vivacious niece. I’d barely said less than two sentences to her or to anyone else since we left the Barclays, just a few grunts here and there whenever somebody asked me anything. She probably had dozens of questions she wanted to ask right now; ‘are we canceling the wedding, where are you gonna stay, who does she need to call, what I actually wanted to do now,’ things of that nature. 

But rather than bombard me with things that even I had no earthly clue how to answer, she said nothing and just held me.

Though she was my aunt and nearly seven years older than me, I often viewed her as the big sister I never had and the mother figure I had so desperately yearned for. She was my protector from bullies like Angela Ferrell in sixth grade after I had come home crying one too many times for her liking. Isobel pushed Angela face-first into the mud and threatened to shave her bald if she ever messed with me again.

When I reached the preteen stage and my body began to develop, she was the one who explained to me the so-called ‘joys’ of becoming a woman and who took me to the pharmacy to buy my first box of pads. She also, in a very detailed description, broke down the basics of sex and practically scarred me for life. 

After Bryan Anderson gave me my first kiss in fifth grade, she was the best friend that I ran to her to spill all the juicy details. And when I was a junior and my first ever boyfriend Joaquin broke my heart for some varsity cheerleader, she picked me up and helped put the pieces back together with junk food and my favorite horror movies… only after we went and egged Joaquin’s truck. 

Whether it was something as simple as helping me with my calculus homework, or something big as catching a red-eye flight from London to Houston just to watch me compete in my very last high school gymnastics invitational, there was never a moment in my life that I couldn’t rely on her to be there for me whenever I needed her the most.

And tonight, tonight was one of those moments when I definitely needed her.

We stayed like this in comfortable silence for what seemed like hours, just staring out into the night as she held me close to her. I feel her chin fall gently against my shoulder and her breath tickles at the side of my neck for a few minutes before she finally speaks.

“You feel like talking about it?” her voice just above a whisper.

I say nothing but shake my head.

Her lips press themselves gently against my cheek, hugging me a bit tighter as she does. “Ok, that’s fine. We don’t gotta talk about it tonight.” 

“But,” she pauses, “What we should do right now is get some food. Cause I don’t know about you, but I am starving.” 

Once again, I am silent. Intentionally I knew what she was trying to do. First, she would pump me with some of my favorite foods, maybe even some top shelf liquor, then after a few of the cheesiest and goriest slasher films she would happen to find on demand and I appeared to be in a neutral state, she would lay on the questions. It’s been her routine since I was 13 and about 80 percent of the time it usually worked. Sadly though, It’s unlikely that this particular problem could be easily fixed with takeout and Freddy Krueger.

She was right though. I hadn’t eaten anything since this morning and just the mention of food made my stomach growl. 

“Tell you what... why don’t I order us some food, and while I do that you can take a shower and get cleaned up. ¿Suena bien?”

I thought it over for a little before eventually nodding my head in agreement.

“What do you wanna do; Chinese takeout, get a couple pizzas…?”

I look up, her brown eyes meeting mine. “Can we get both?”

A small laugh escapes her mouth, and she squeezes me again. “We can absolutely do both. I’ll even throw in a couple of those brownie sundaes I saw in that menu. While you shower, I’ll call the boys and see where they are with your stuff.”

I nod once more and with one final squeeze and forehead kiss from her, I remove myself from her embrace and slide off the bed. She follows and moves towards a conveniently placed touch screen panel near the window. I watch her press a button on the panel and, in an instant, large panels start to descend over the window panel, slightly darkening the room and hiding Manhattan away for the rest of the night. 

I grab my gym bag from off the bed and make my way inside the en-suite bathroom. Once inside, I shut the door and lock it. Just as she said earlier, this truly was an incredible bathroom. A lot nicer than some I had had before. Apart from the aforementioned heated floors there were marble countertops, super soft Egyptian cotton towels, two complimentary bathrobes with matching slippers, full-size bottles of luxury brand skincare and body products, & to top it all off, a huge glass walk-in steam shower with two large overhead rainfall showerheads and about six square wall panels placed on both the front and back walls. 

Setting the bag next to the sink I make my way over to the shower. On the outside wall was yet another touch screen panel solely for controlling the shower. I look it over for a few moments before finding an app that says ‘RAIN’ and press it. Instantly, the overhead panels come alive and water begins to rain down on the inside. I mess around with a few more buttons, adjusting the water temperature and whatnot, before finally moving away so that the water could warm up.

Back at the sink, I started to open my gym bag when I felt my phone once again start the incessant vibrating like before. But this time instead of ignoring it, I pull my phone from my jacket pocket and look at the screen.

The first thing I see is his profile picture followed by his name. It was one of my favorites of us together, taken almost a year ago at a mutual friend's Halloween party. We were dressed up as Jon Snow and Daenerys Targaryen from Game of Thrones, complete with three ‘dragons’ perched on my shoulders. I was looking at the camera but his eyes were fixed solely on me, a smile stretched across his face as he looked.   

I watch the call stop and my home screen reappear with the notification bar.

Over a dozen missed calls and voicemails. 

With a sigh I unlock my phone and scroll through the list of missed calls, seeing one name in particular more often than others.

Seth.

Seth.

Seth.

Renee.

Roman.

Seth.

Brie.

Nikki.

Seth.

Seth.

Seth.

Renee.

Nikki.

Seth.

Roman.

Seth.

Seth.

Seth.

Seth.

Annoyed, I tossed my phone onto the counter, not caring where it landed or if it had smashed. I open my gym bag and go to pull out the set of post-match clothes I always kept handy, so I could change quickly out of my sweaty gear after any of my matches. But when I went to pull them out… nothing. Only my workout clothes from earlier, an extra set of bra and panties, deodorant, and sneakers.

Shit.

I look down at my body, currently covered in the giant hoodie.

Shit, shit, shit.

My suitcase, my clothes, my laptop… all of that is currently on its way from Brooklyn. 

I forgot to pack my spare change of clothes. 

And as if things couldn’t get any better... I’m still in my ring gear from my match earlier. 

My eyes rolled to the back of my hand and my hand runs over my face, an annoyed chuckle escaping as I relish in my own stupidity. 

Great. I thought. Just great. Good job there Maya.

Not wasting any more time, I throw off the hoodie and angrily start to undress. Starting from the bottom, I unlace my wrestling boots and set them next to the toilet. I remove my sweatpants and shimmy my way out of the custom wrestling shorts Isobel had made specifically for tonight. The matching top was next to come off and once over my head I let it fall to the floor next to my shorts, leaving me in just my sports bra and underwear. 

The gear for tonight was all-white with intricate gold lines patterned along the sides, knees, and chest with four symbols faintly embroidered in white on each side; one was mine, the other Roman’s, then Dean’s, and finally… his.  

For months, he’d been throwing the idea around of switching up his ring gear and trying out new colors aside from his usual black attire. And once Isobel had sketched up a white and gold version of his gear, he was beyond ecstatic to showcase it for his Title for Title Match at SummerSlam. 

And when she had enough fabric left over from doing his gear she made a second set just for me. 

“It’s kind of like your wedding dress,” she said to me. “Just in gear form. Hey, if you want I’ll even attach a veil to your butt and it can be your train.”

I quickly shake the memory from my head and free myself of what was left of my clothing. Grabbing two of the white bath towels placed underneath the sink, I set one on the back of the toilet and hanging the other on the hook placed next to the shower. I grab a bottle of complimentary body wash I open the shower door, and finally step inside.

I stand directly underneath, letting the warm water hit my skin and cascade around me and down my body. The splashing against the tile echoed off the walls but it wasn’t enough to drown out my thoughts as they continued to torture me. Every kiss, every touch, every ‘I love you’ we had ever said played on an endless loop in my head as I tried to pinpoint the moment that everything changed.

Meeting for the first time at that college bar back in NXT. That first kiss backstage in NXT that caught us both off-guard. The night he had told me for the first time that he loved me, which was followed up by the night we first made love.    

I try to shake these thoughts from my mind, but it won’t work. No matter what I try to think about, no matter what other happy memory that doesn’t involve him, those memories are still all that play. A few stray tears push their way out but I quickly wipe them away.

No, I thought. You are not going to do this Maya. This isn’t happening right now. Stop it!

I reach over to grab the bottle of body wash from the shelf inside the shower...    

And that’s when I saw it. The tan line on my finger, now completely visible on my left hand that just a few hours ago bore my beautiful oval cut diamond engagement ring. 

The ring that he claimed to have been carrying around in his suitcase for months, hoping to find that right moment that never seemed to come. 

Until the night of WrestleMania, just mere seconds after winning his WWE World Heavyweight Championship, he would look over to Joey Mercury and trade him his newly won title for a small black box. He would get down on one knee and take my hand in his. And then, in front of Vince McMahon and everyone else currently occupying the Guerilla, would ask me to spend the rest of my life with him. 

Now that hand was bare. The ring was gone, given or rather thrown back to him after what had happened.

And just like that, my world came crumbling down. That false sense of reality I had created since leaving the arena had finally collided with actual reality and smacked me dead in the face.

Seth, my first love, the man I was set to marry in less than two months… had cheated on me. And I had caught him tonight. 

Three years of my life, our life together, all gone in a flash. Our plans for the future, children, traveling the world… were all just illusions and fantasies that would never come true.  

My legs carried me backward until my back hit the wall of the shower and I slid down. A wave of nausea swirls all around my empty stomach and my chest tightened like someone was stomping on it repeatedly. The first sob that left my mouth was quiet, nothing short of a small childlike whimper as the tears fell. But more and more as reality continued to sink in, they grew louder. The tears flowed more, so much so that I couldn’t tell what were tears and what was just water from the showerhead. 

My body sank more and more into the ground that before I knew it I had curled myself into a ball, crying into my chest as the water turned from warm to cold. 

But I didn’t care. My head swam with half-formed regrets. My heart felt as if my blood had turned into tar as it struggled to keep a steady beat. 

I was emotionally bankrupt. There was nothing left to feel, nothing left to say, nothing left but the void that now enveloped me in swirling blackness.

And it was all because of him.  

END.   

[chelsfic]

Part 3 - You Shouldn’t Love a Man Like Me - Horacio Carrillo x Reader - Narcos fanfic

Part One | Part Two

A/N: I’ve been in a wave of creativity the last few days so I’m just rollin’ with it. Part three of Reader and Carrillo’s story. Angst, ahoy!! Enjoy! Thank you so much to everyone who has read, commented and reblogged!

Warning: Violence (reader gets hurt)

***

You hold your hand up to shade your eyes from the glare of the midday sun. Steve stands next to you, leaning casually against the cafe’s sidewalk bar and sipping coffee from a ceramic cup. He’s different lately, since the visit from Connie. More grounded. You hope it lasts. You’re watching Carrillo as he packs up his SUV. His broad shoulders strain against the material of his uniform shirt, his tan, muscular arms flex as he loads equipment into the back. On another day you might be able to enjoy the view. But today all you see is the way he carries himself like a spring wound too tight, ready to burst. His mouth is set in a grim frown and his brows are pinched together with stress. God--he needed this to be a win so badly. 

Honestly, you did too. Not because you have a vendetta against Escobar that transcends into an almost spiritual mission, like Carrillo does. But because you need this damn war to be over. You need Escobar dead so that Horacio--your love--can finally be safe. You pushed yourself today, shadowing Carillo and Murphy as they moved through the building, refusing to let your lover out of your sight. You can’t...you can’t bear the thought of watching him march into a firefight while you hang back and coordinate another damn barricade. And it’s not because you’ve got anything to prove. As much as you bluster and try to keep up with the guys you know as well as everyone else does that your strength is in intelligence work and managing informants. That’s okay with you. You like that part of the job. Riding off, guns blazing on raids? That was all Steve and Javi...and Horacio. 

But ever since the night of the ambush--when you’d stayed back and monitored the mission on the radio while your lover and his men were surrounded--you haven’t been able to let go. You know he’s angry with you for inserting yourself into danger today, but you can’t bring yourself to care too much. You just need him to be safe.

You walk up behind him as he finishes loading the last of the gear. You’re reaching out a hand to rub his back when the call comes in. They found him. They really found him this time. 

Everyone is moving, jumping into vehicles and screeching out onto the road. Carrillo turns to look at you over his shoulder for a moment and his eyes are lit up with excitement even as he sets his face into the fierce mask of command.

“Y/N, you’re staying here!” he barks before jumping in the driver’s seat and taking off, leaving you standing there, red-faced and furious.

You feel a tap on your shoulder and Murphy leans his face in next to yours whispering conspiratorially, “Let’s go, girl!”

Your mouth splits into a wide grin and you both jump into the nearest truck as it pulls out onto the road.

***

By the time Carrillo realizes you’ve once again disobeyed his orders and inserted yourself into the vanguard assault team along with him, it’s too late. He glares at you from the other side of the front door as the men smash the battering ram against it. Immediately the sound of gunshots from inside erupts and bullets whiz through the air around you. Jesus, you and Murphy haven’t even had time to put on your bullet-proof vests. You duck, clutching your pistol in one hand and raising the other to cover your ears. Carrillo crouches across from you and tries one more time to wave you away before the door comes down and everyone is rushing inside. 

It’s chaos. Bodies press together to squeeze through the doorway and then you’re scrambling for cover as gunfire rains down. You find yourself kneeling behind an overturned dresser in between Murphy and Carrillo. Both tall men are just barely able to fit behind it with you squished in the middle. You feel Horacio’s firm hand pressing into your back and holding you down as he pops up to return fire. You should want to struggle away from him and join in the exchange of bullets. You should want to assert yourself against his authority. But in truth you’re thankful to him for watching out for you. This isn’t your specialty and you don’t want to cause problems for the team. You just need to be near him. To see him safely through this nightmare.

The warm reassurance of his hand leaves your back and you look up in time to watch he and Murphy spring up to chase the two fugitives up the stairs. Another police officer falls in a spray of bullets and your heart leaps into your throat. They’re already halfway up the stairs. You jump up and trail after them, taking the steps two at a time to make up for your short legs. At the top of the stairs, you sprint down the hallway and hop out the open window onto the rooftop. 

You’re completely exposed out here. It’s just you, Horacio, Murphy and a couple of cops. Escobar is jogging away and throwing shots at you every few steps. You slow your pace, ducking and dodging as bullets ping off the metal and clay roof tiles. Murphy and Carrillo are leading the chase. They’re going to get him. There’s no way out for Escobar this time. You stop, hanging back and watching your lover as he finally nears the end of this years long quest. You’re sweating, bent over and breathing heavily with exertion, but you smile to see your man finally--finally completing his life’s work.

You don’t even feel it when the bullet hits you. One second you’re on your feet, eyes locked on Horacio as he sprints after his quarry, the next you’re flat on your back, head snapping backwards and cracking against a roof tile. For a second you think you’ve just had the wind knocked out of you, forgetting that you aren’t wearing your vest. You lay there staring up into the crystal blue sky and wait for your lungs to expand. They don’t. When you finally get your breath back it’s rapid and shallow. And there’s a sharp pain blossoming in your chest. You taste bile and something coppery as panic starts to set in. No, please. You’re so close.

Clouds drift overhead and a bird crosses your field of vision. It’s strange--how can the world keep going when such monumental events are playing out on the ground?

You hear your name being called. It sounds choked, desperate, and terribly far away.

***

The bullet flies wide of Carrillo and he doesn’t give it another thought, leaping forward to lengthen his strides as he closes in. Murphy is right behind him. This is it. This is finally it. The people of Columbia will rest easy knowing this madman has been brought to justice. He feels a swell of pride at the thought that it will be his hands putting this bastard in cuffs. 

Carrillo’s senses are laser focused on his prey. So, why does he suddenly jolt to a stop when he hears the sound of a body hitting the tiles behind him? He turns his head, glancing over his shoulder to check who’s gone down. 

It feels like a cold hand reaches into his chest and closes around his heart. No, mi amor! You’re lying prone on the rooftop, unmoving...alone. Murphy and the other men continue their pursuit, speeding past him and after the goal he’s fought for. Carrillo curses under his breath, casting his eyes back towards the chase and watching Murphy take the lead. It’s no choice at all, really.

He turns from them, from Escobar, from the crusade he’s waged for the last three years. His gun falls from his grip as he collapses to his knees at your side. He looks down at you, hands hovering over your blood soaked t-shirt. Your breath stutters in your chest and specks of blood splash onto your lips as you try to speak, “Hh...racio.”

You try to take one of his hands but miss. He leans over you and his face fills your vision, tears falling freely from his beautiful eyes. Yes, you think, let this be the last thing I see.

“Don’t--don’t speak, mi amor. You’re gonna be okay. Just save your strength, okay?”

He’s lifting your shirt and running his fingers over your torso searching for the wound, his hands quickly become soaked in your blood. When he finds the entry wound on the right side of your chest he presses down with all his strength and you let out a cough that sprays blood all over his arms. 

Tell me again, you think as your vision starts to go dark around the edges, tell me you love me.

***

The first thing you see when you wake up is a giant, cheerful teddy bear perched on your bedside with a note pinned to it reading, “Love, Javi and Steve.” The idea of one of them picking this out, buying it and carrying it in here is so hilarious that you start to laugh before the monstrous ache in your chest brings you up short and the laugh turns into a pained moan. 

Carrillo is at your side in an instant, “Shhh, my love. Thank God, how do you feel?”

He takes both of your hands in his and brings them to his lips, pressing urgent kisses into your fingers. You’ve never seen him look so tired. And you’ve seen him after a 24 hour stake out. His eyes are puffy, his hair is uncombed and sticking up on one side as if he fell asleep leaning against a wall or something. He’s looking at you like you might break apart at any moment.

“I feel…” you start and then pause trying to figure out how you feel. “I hurt. A lot.”

Horacio laughs at that. He leans forward and presses his lips to your cheek in the lightest of kisses.

“Yeah, well...you got shot, mi amor,” he says and you imagine you hear the edge of disappointment in his voice. You just wanted to keep him safe and instead you’ve messed everything up. Why can’t you ever just do as he tells you?

You lips tremble and your voice comes out thick with tears, “I’m sorry, Horacio. I’m sorry, I--I--”

You start to cry and immediately you feel the wound in your chest ignite with pain. You yelp in pain and gingerly clutch your hand over the bandage that wraps your chest.

Horacio looks aghast. He’s wiping your tears away and begging you, “Don’t cry, my love, please! I’m not angry. I was so, so scared I’d lost you. Please, be still, Y/N, you’re wounded.”

You cling to the gentleness and truth in his words, wrapping your hands around his wrists to keep his hands cupping your cheeks. You love the feel of his palms on your skin. Nothing in this world makes you feel safer than Horacio’s touch. When you’ve had a moment to steady your breathing and you feel more solid, you finally ask the question.

“Horacio, did we get him?”

His face is relaxed, calm, serious as he regards you. He nods, “Yeah...we got him.”

Tears slip free once more and you’re overwhelmed with relief. Your smile feels like it might split your face in two, but you don’t care. It’s over. It’s finally over. You can finally be with Horacio and not have to worry if he’ll be kidnapped or shot or tortured the next time he leaves your side. Finally.

He’s looking back at you with that same serious look on his face and you feel your happiness waver as doubt shadows your heart. 

“My love,” you whisper, reaching out to cup his cheek. He nuzzles his face against your hand and you feel a little more certain. “Are you happy?”

He turns his head and brushes a kiss against your palm, wrapping his fingers around your wrist and holding it lightly in his grip as if he fears you might float away if he doesn’t keep a hold of you.

He hates the doubt in your voice and attempts a smile to reassure you as he responds, “I am the happiest man alive because of you, mi amor. Pablo Escobar...catching him, stopping him...that man has no control over my happiness. Only you do, Y/N. Only you.”

You let out a sob of happiness, content to withstand the stab of pain in your chest as you reach out both arms and force him to bend over the bed and wrap you in a tender, loose hug. You bury your face into the crook of his neck and inhale his clean, masculine scent. Your fingers dig into the muscles of his back and you decide, then and there, that you’re never going to let go of this man again.

“I love you, Horacio,” you whisper into his ear. 

He turns his face a little so that his stubble scratches deliciously against your cheek, “I love you, my disobedient little girl.”

He pulls back a little so he can look into your eyes. His lips curve in a smile and he looks, for the first time since you’ve known him, happy and carefree.

“Marry me, Y/N.”

The words fall from his lips in the playful, dominant tone he reserves for you alone. And the way he says them, a command rather than a question, sends a shiver down your spine.

This is one order you intend to obey.

Tags:

@sparrows-books @1zashreena1 @squidlywiddly87​

[mrslackles]

The Right to Remain Silent

Summary: Beth's FBI. Rio's... not.

[A/N: This is an unfinished work that I scrapped but I’m posting because of this tag game. I rounded out writing three of the main parts of the first chapter that I already had mostly done so it would be readable, but like I said, it is most certainly unfinished; there are whole middle chunks missing that I never got around to writing.]

**

“Ruby, do you think there's any way back once you're a bad person?”

She can almost hear her best friend frown on the other end of the line.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, if you've crossed over, do you think it’s possible to find your way back?”

There’s silence for a moment. Then Ruby lets out a breath. 

“I… I guess it depends how far you went. How bad what you did is.”

“The worst.” She swallows. “The worst possible everything.”

**

One week earlier

**

Beth’s feeling really good about herself.

So good that she’s even considering buying everyone in the office coffee. She thinks she’ll drink hers here, though. At least her first cup. She’s still high off yesterday’s bust and she doesn’t need the humdrum of today spoiling it just yet.

The barista smiles at her, catching her eye, then winks and goes ahead making her usual order.

“Lemme get that for you.”

Beth turns. There’s a guy beside her facing forward, his collar up, but he’s looking at her from the corner of his eye.

She smiles. “That’s not necessary.”

“Oh, but I wanna.”

“No, thank you,” she says more firmly, letting the smile go.

“Oh, c'mon darlin,” he says, voice smooth as honey. “How else’s a guy s’pposed to get a beautiful woman’s attention?”

This gets under her collar then seeps into her bones, sending a shiver down her back. Weird. Weird.

“Well, I'm married.”

She’s still trying to process this – a man hitting on her – when he suddenly turns to face her and, oh.

“Since when has that ever stopped anybody, Elizabeth?”

Her mouth falls open – at his appearance, at the tattoo, at him knowing her name – but he doesn’t give her the chance to speak.

“Sit down.”

There’s no room for arguing in his tone, face stony in an instant, and she follows him to a table with her heart fluttering in her throat. There’s a cat-like fluidity to the way he walks and she takes this in analytically before sitting, back straight.

She folds her hands into her lap, trying to shake off the surprise.

“What gang are you affiliated with?”

“Shit, first you don't want me to buy you a drink now you wanna take down my pants?”

There’s something about him – the lewdness? His smirk? The way he takes her in with gleaming eyes? – that unnerves her, but she tells herself it’s still just the shock letting it all get to her.

“How did you find me?”

He sits back in his seat, folding his hands; almost mocking her own posture.

“You raided a warehouse of mine yesterday.”

God. She clears her throat.

“You want your money back?”

She’d caught the line of his gun beneath his jacket; is slowly trying to survey the café to figure out if he’s alone.

“Naw. See, you asked how I found you,” he points at her.

“So then what do you want?”

Now he leans onto the table, steepling his fingers.

“Your hubby, he ain’t a real stand-up guy, huh?” He makes as if to give her a chance to speak then barrels right ahead. “Fucked around on you then getting himself into debt with some real rough guys.”

Breathe, Beth. Breathe.

“What are you talking about?”

He seems amused – he knows more than her and he’s relishing it.

“He been real flush lately?”

And she wants to say no instantly, but – he’d suddenly paid for the house after they’d been struggling to make the payment. He’d said he’d sold a car, but…

“You’re trying to bribe me,” she says, voice tinny.

“Nah,” he scoffs, laughing like she’s told a joke. “I’m tryna keep the limbs on all your loved ones. Y’know, they’re called loan sharks for a reason.”

Her hands are no longer folded, wringing each other.

“H-how are you going to do that?”

He shrugs cavalierly. “You need money, I got lots of it. We could be friends, and I like helping out my friends.”

He watches her, waiting, but she doesn’t react; doesn’t respond. She’s frozen, too stunned by this influx of information; this situation.

Not only had Dean torn their family apart, he’d also put them in danger? And she’d left her children with him to take this assignment; to get away. And now her babies could end up being collateral in more ways than just that one.

“Your hubby’s in the hole for ten grand,” he informs her, leaning over the table a little. “So I’m thinkin… a cool thirty gees?”

She stares.

“You’re going to pay me thirty thousand dollars for doing nothing?”

“Naw, darlin; nothin’s for nothin.”

“So what do you want?”

“Colleague of yours, an agent… Donnegan?” She nods and he continues: “Had a drug bust a week ago. My intel says the pills are still in your evidence room – I got a third party who’s real interested.”

“You’re insane.”

He grins, delighted, as if this is a compliment.

She shakes her head. “I can’t just take evidence, that’s not how things work!”

He shrugs. “Bat your lashes, sign it out for another ‘investigation’ – whatever it takes. I’m sure you’ll think of somethin.”

Before she can say anything – say whether she’s going to do it – he jumps up, kicking his chair back as he juts a thumb outward.

“That’s my boy, Mick.”

She follows his finger to see a tattooed man standing outside.

“He’s gonna take care of you. Make sure you got the details for the drop; that you all set up for payment.”

And then, with a quick squeeze of her shoulder, he’s gone.

**

She nearly growls when Dean’s voice finally crackles across the line, greeting cheery. 

“Hi, you.”

“Tell me right now and don’t lie to me: did you get money from loan sharks to pay for the house?”

There’s silence for far too long, loaded.

“Bethie, I was going to tell you—”

“Oh my god,” she sucks in a breath. 

“But, see, I knew you’d react that way!”

“Because you put our lives in danger! Do you know what those people do to the families of people who don’t pay them?”

“I know this all seems really scary, but it’s not as bad as it sounds.”

He’s always done that. She’s been a cop for years and he still makes it sound like she’s a little girl who isn’t capable of anything.

Even Bethie – she’s started hating how he’s always babied her name.

“What’s not as bad as it sounds, Dean?” she humours him.

“These aren’t the guys you’re used to, these are good guys.”

“They’re loan sharks.”

“No! Well… yeah. But they were really worried about our situation and so understanding when I couldn’t pay last month—”

“Oh my god, we’re already behind?”

“Beth. Bethie. I’m going to take care of it, ok?”

“No.”

She looks up from the floor to the evidence locker.

“I am.”

**

[Beth does the drop, gets paid then is forced into having dinner with Rio, after which he drives her to where she’s staying and invites himself inside]

Rio walks around, inspecting the place as she stands frozen by the entrance-way table.

“You have guys around?”

“I told you I was married.”

He turns back to meet her eyes.

“And I told you I know he's a dirtbag.”

“And that gives me permission to sleep around?”

His lip quirks up a little.

“Kinda does, yeah.”

“Well, I’m not that kind of person.”

“And what kinda person is that?”

“Vows mean something to me.”

“Like the one to serve and protect your country?”

And this jerks down her back, just like he wanted it to. He’s smirking and she’s driven forward, seething.

“So this is what you do? You recruit people, pay them, come and scope out their homes for when you need to intimidate them later?”

She wants to take him down a notch, wants to figure out how to get under his skin too, but he doesn’t seem bothered by her tone.

“Naw, house calls ain’t usually my thing.”

“So then what are you still doing here?”

He’s looking at her strangely, shoulders jerking as he comes closer.

“If you wanna know what I’m doing here, Elizabeth, you gotta stop thinking like a cop and start thinking like—”

“A criminal?” she snickers. “Quantico already taught me that lesson, but thanks.”

He smiles, eyes gleaming.

“…A woman.”

And now the shiver down her back is different – but it’s half anger. Is this why he’s here; is that why her? Because he’d wanted to sleep with her?

“Why did you choose me?”

It’s maybe the first thing she’s said all night that seems to throw him.

“’Scuse me?”

“Mick told me that there were other options – better options – but you chose me.”

“He’s got some loose lips this week.”

She folds her arms.

“Why?”

He stares back at her, seemingly conflicted, then backs up to lean against the table.

She waits and it’s a long few seconds before he finally speaks.

“I was there the day of your bust. Was rollin by to check on shit, y’know. But then I saw what was goin on and pulled ’round to the west side of the building.” He hesitates, eyes on the floor. “Saw you.”

He says this like it’s supposed to explain exactly what he means, but she shakes her head in confusion.

“Ok…”

Now he looks up, though not quite at her.

“While you was havin your… personal moment.”

Oh, god.

Everything had suddenly hit her – what Dean had done, how much she’s missing her children and the girls – and she’d had to excuse herself for a few moments.  

But she tries not to cower; not to show how endlessly humiliated she is.

“So you chose me because you saw me cry on the job?” 

Rio blinks slowly, thoughtfully. He swallows.

And when he speaks, it’s soft; nearly inaudible.

“I chose you ’cuz it looked like you needed choosing.”

And she should breathe, should force air into her lungs, but instead -- instead she finds herself stepping closer. 

She doesn’t breathe, doesn’t think, as her legs brush against his.

His eyes are on her, warm and wanting ­– god, when last has anyone looked at her like this?

She’s frozen now, has gone as far as she can, and he straightens up. Then his hand is slipping past her hair to cup her face, angle it up to his. And he’s so warm and she shouldn’t be doing this, but she can’t think to stop; can’t remember why she should be running in the other direction.

When he kisses her, it’s soft. Softer than it should be; softer than he should be. It makes her gasp a little and then she’s pressing closer, kissing him back harder because it feels so right even though it’s all so wrong, wrong, wrong.

She whimpers as his tongue slips past her lips and then his hands are on her hips and before she knows it, he’s spinning them around, lifting her up onto the table, and by the time her legs are spread around his hips, she’s forgotten every vow she’s ever taken.

 **

Rio sips at the bottle of water.

From her pillow she watches the inked bird bob with his Adam’s apple. 

Then her eyes go to the tattoos at the back of his arms. Angry red scratches run down them, a reminder of her that he’ll take home tonight.  

“I like this place.”

Her eyebrow rises in surprise.

“You do?”

“Yeah,” he nods, “looks like a criminal hideout. Doesn't suit you.”

She doesn’t know if this is an insult or a compliment but follows his gaze to survey the huge industrial space.

“Well, it's nothing like my house, that's for sure.”

Sitting up in bed, she wraps her arms around her knees with a sad little breath.

“Every time I think about it, I like this place a little more.”

“That why you volunteer for it?” He looks amused by her visible surprise. “Might not know much about coppers, but I know nobody of your rank's stayin in a dump like this against their will.”

She stares at him for a moment, weighing up the cost of the truth, then looks away.

“I took it because I wanted to punish myself,” she admits quietly. “You know, no creature comforts.” 

Not while her children are without her; are robbed of their mother, who’d willingly taken herself away.

“But then I realised I feel more comfortable here than the home I left.”

He watches her for a moment too long before snickering in a way that comes out more forced than he probably intends.

“That's real damn sad.”

“Yeah.”

What more is there to say? Especially to him, of all people?

“I'm really tired.”

She moves the sheet higher up onto her chest in what she hopes he’ll take as a hint. There isn’t going to be a second round tonight, not like normal. Things had gotten too personal and that’s not what this is. Although she still has no idea what it is. 

He sniffs in some kind of amusement.

“That a lifelong habit?”

“What habit?” she asks sharply, looking back at him.

He’s up, beginning to dress.

“Only openin up to people you know ain't stayin; who you can push away.”

She stares back, surprised. Offended.

“That's not what I'm doing.”

“Ain't it?” He stands from putting on his shoes to regard her. “Ain't that why you kissed me back to begin with?”

“No.”

He smiles a little.

“You should be a better liar, Special Agent Boland.” He pulls on his t-shirt then shrugs, grabbing his jacket. “But it's cool.”

He’s ready to leave, expression filled with his signature brand of guarded amusement. 

“...Takes one to know one.”

[svubabes]

Part 1; Otherside - Mike Dodds

Pairing: Mike Dodds x Reader

Summary: Mike Dodds runs across an old girlfriend in a way he’d never thought was possible.

!TRIGGER WARNINGS!: Drug addicted reader, violence against the reader, drug abuse/addiction, prostitution

Ok I loved writing this, there will be more parts to it btw!!

“What do we got Liv?” Mike asked, adjusting his jacket to the cold winter air. Liv sighed and shook her head.

“Another call girl, she’s not dead thank god. I think he just scared her good. She was tough and got away from him, only problem is that she was higher than a kite on coke. She’s come down now so we can talk to her. I really think we’re dealing with a serial rapist Dodds.” Mike shook his head.

“Liv, why do people chose this life?” Liv put her arm around Mike.

“Mike, I don’t think a lot of them do. I think life deals them a bad hand and this is the best way they know how to handle it. The prostitution gives them a job, money, the money goes for the drugs to make them forget the pain they face. Let’s start off with seeing if she has a pimp, then get the details.” Mike sighed, took a deep breath and followed Liv. His dad didn’t have high opinions on women like this, but Mike did. He wishes he could save them all, but many have been scared into silence. The two finally reached the ambulance, the victim was sitting in the back, head in knees, covered in a blanket to prevent her from freezing in her skimpy work clothes. Liv sat down beside her, placing an arm around her.

“Hey sweetie. My name is Olivia Benson I’m with the special victims unit, can you tell me your name?” The victim didn’t look up, only mumbled her name. 

“(Y/F/N)? Is that right?” Olivia said, repeating what she had heard. Mike’s heart sank to his stomach, recalling that name and all the memories attached to it. 

“(Y/N)?” He said, knowing fully well he shouldn’t have. She looked up, tears filling her eyes. 

“Mike? What? Why are you here?” Her voice sounded angry, but truly she was ashamed. Someone she had loved so deeply the one to see her in this desperate state she was in. 

“It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.” Olivia continued to ignore what had just happened and keep her questions going. Dodd’s mind traveled back to every  memory the two had, good or bad. Mike had met (Y/N) when she had moved down the street from him and his family. His mother and hers became very close friends, causing them to become friends, which led to much more. The two had been together since 18 years old and finally ended the long relationship at the age of 25. That was 5 years ago, (Y/N) decided to move away to Maine. Mike wanted to stay near his father so the two decided it was best to split. After he had been zoned out, he heard Liv calling him.

“Yeah Liv?” She gave him a look, he straightened up.

“She wants to talk, just you two. Remember, you’re an officer of the law now.” Liv said, leaving the two alone. 

“So,” She began slowly, “Cop now huh?” Dodds smirked, trying to think of what to say.”

“You don't have to say anything Mike. I’ve fucked up my whole life. Every bit of it.” She said, hanging her head down, trying to keep the tears from falling.

“I just don’t get it. You went to Maine, how did you get back here?” She finally let the tears fall, making her $2 mascara run even worse.

“I lost my job in Maine, because I got hooked on drugs. It started out with a nerve pill my coworker gave me, just one fucking Xanax. One fucking pill ruined me. It just went on from there, one became two, two became five. Five became meth, meth became coke. Finally I decided to come back here, I had to fuck my way here, do you know how sick some of these taxi and truck drivers are?” She smiled a broken smile, but continued her story. “I finally got back to mom and dads house. I told them everything that had happened, they slammed the door in my face and left me in the freezing rain. I never thought in a million years they would be the ones who turned their backs on me. I mean aren’t parents supposed to give you that unconditional love and all that bull shit? Not mine. Anyways, that was three months ago. Here I am, selling myself on the streets, sleeping in hotel rooms with random men just so I don’t have to sleep on a bench or concrete slab. I hate it Mike. I hate it so much. This isn’t the life I ever wanted to have. My whole life I thought people chose to live this way, but now that it’s me, I know that’s not true. I know that no one would want to walk down the street in stained lingerie, find some nasty ass man who needs to get his rocks off with you and praying you can get ahold of your dealer after at 3AM because you have to take the edge off from sleeping with a random creep.” She threw her face into her hands, tears flowing faster than they ever had before, a tear even came out of Mikes eye. How could someone who had it all become so broken? Someone Mike loved so dearly and always did love had became so broken, he just wanted to put all the pieces back together, but even scattered he still admired her strength. There aren’t too many people who would spill that hurt and pain so easily.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Mike asked, heartbroken. “You know I would have came. You know I would have let you crash with me.” (Y/N) chuckled, pulling a cigarette out of her bra and lighting it up. He noticed the bruises and cuts even more now that the small flame of the lighter illuminated her face. Bruises on her cheeks, cut on her lips, bags under the eyes, hollowing cheek bones. 

“Mike, I figure you have a life now. A trophy wife and maybe a few kids, why would I? I figured after my parents, you’d take one look at me and tell me to hit the road.”

“No wife, no kids. Nothing.” Mike smiled, wrapping her hand into his. “(Y/N), I will do everything I can to find the man who did this, I will do everything to help you. I promise you that.” He wanted to kiss her, she was still the kind, angelic girl that he had fell in love with. 

“Dodds! We got to go, she needs to get a rape kit done.” Liv said, she gave (Y/N) a card with her name, as Liv turned around Dodds handed her a card as well. 

“Call me as soon as your done at the hospital. I’ll come get you.” He said, slipping the card into her cold, bruised hands. Once they were out of ear shot from her, Liv began the speech.

“Dodds you kn-” He cut her off.

“I know Liv. Take myself off the case, stay away as far as I can from this. No contact. I know the drill, I’ve seen you give this speech too many times. She is my ex, I dated her for a long time, almost proposed to her.” Liv smiled, placing a hand on Dodd’s shoulder. 

“I know how it is wanting to help someone you care about. Cassidy was mine, Rollins has her sister, Fin’s brother. I wish we could touch these cases but we can’t. I just can’t tell if it would make it easier or harder for us.” She smiled, her phone rang around this time. “Meet me in the cruiser and we’ll head back. This is Lucy.” He watched Olivia walk away, turning around to watch the ambulance pull out.

“I’ll let you know if its easier or harder on us Liv,” He whispered, making sure his phone was on full blast for when he got the call from (Y/N).

[siren-queen-imagines]

Waiting...

I’m going through the Wayback Machine and bringing over some fics that I wrote when I was imaginingwwesuperstars!! Well, at least what they have archived...and has been edited since the original post...I hope you enjoy!!

Masterlist

You sat in your dressing room, waiting on word of Finn’s arrival. He and the guys thought it would be a good idea to have his bachelor party last night and they still haven’t gotten back. You were dressed, completely ready to go for your wedding, which was supposed to start in 20 minutes. Finn promised you he’d be back early this morning and you called him numerous times since then. You called Kevin, you called Sami, Shinsuke…no one answered. You couldn’t be blamed for being worried. Was he gonna show up at all? Are you sitting here, waiting like a fool for Finn to show up when he most likely won’t?

“I know that look.” Becky said, taking the seat next to you. 

“Don’t think that way. He’ll be here.”

“What if he isn’t, Becky?” You asked, letting out a sigh.

“He will be. Finn loves you to death, Y/N. He would never leave you hanging.”

You sighed again, giving Becky a small, closed mouth smile. Becky grabbed your hand and held it in hers.

“Don’t worry. He will be here. I know he will.” Becky continued.

=================================

You and Finn were in the UK for the NXT tour. You were a makeup artist for the girls while he was the NXT Champion who had been dating for 4 years. You met while he lived in Japan and you were on vacation with some of your guy friends, all of whom convinced you to go to an NJPW show.

You moved to Japan to be with him after a year of a long distance relationship. You still sometimes couldn’t help but wonder how you made it work…but you somehow did. Although lately Finn has been acting really weird. He’s been quieter than usual and he seemed to be avoiding you for some reason. It may be stupid but it’s been making you question things about your relationship…like did he still want to be with you? Oh god...maybe that’s why he was acting weird. Maybe he wanted to break up with you and he just didn’t know how to break the news so he decided to avoid you and maybe you’d get the hint.

With a sigh, you got out of the car to get ready to visit the Tower of London. You were with Finn, Bayley, Alexa Bliss, Baron Corbin, Chad Gable and Jason Jordan. As you all took in the sights, Finn pulled you aside, looking nervous.

Oh crap, was he really gonna do this here? Was this really the best time?

“Look, Y/N, there’s something I need to tell you. I think you’re amazing and I’ve really enjoyed the last 4 years together. They’ve been the best of my life. I love you so much but we need to make a change in this relationship.” Finn said, taking in a deep breath nervously.

This was it. Here it comes. He was gonna break up with you. You closed your eyes, preparing yourself for what was next with a deep breath. When you open them, you see Finn on one knee. Oh my god.

“I want to change your last name. I want to change everything. Y/N, I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” Finn pulled a small velvet blue box, opening it to reveal the most beautiful diamond ring you had ever seen. “Y/N, will you marry me?”

Oh my god. Everything started to make sense now. He wanted to marry you, that’s why he was nervous. That’s why he was acting funny. Oh my god!

“Yes!” You exclaimed.

=================================

You looked at the clock on the wall.

Five minutes.

You had five minutes before the ceremony started. You quickly wiped the tear the fell from your eye as you realized that you were most likely going out there to tell your friends and family that the wedding was off.You took a deep breath, looking over to Becky, and stood up. Becky stood up and keeping hold of your hand, preparing to go with you.

Months and months of planning…years of loving Finn...all down the drain.

You picked up the front of your dress, mentally preparing what you were going to say, when a loud knock sounded on the door. Your heart leapt as Sami peeked his head into the door.

“Hey, sorry we’re…whoa, look at you!” Sami said, deciding to come in the room. “God, Y/N, you look beautiful.”

“Thank you, Sami.” You replied with a relieved smile. “Finn here?”

“Yeah, yeah. Again, Sorry we’re late. Some of us drank too much and spent most of the morning hungover, so we left really late. But he’s here and he’ll be good to go. He just needs a few extra minutes to get changed.”

You nodded and smiled, still relieved that Finn didn’t ditch you. How dare you doubt him?

Either way...this wedding was happening!

=================================

You sat in the bathroom, looking at the little stick in your hand. That little pink plus sign seemed to keep mocking you.

You were pregnant. 

This should be no surprise considering how much you and Finn have enjoyed being married. But you were literally three months into your marriage and this couldn’t be happening now.

Finn had just been drafted to Raw and he was set to battle Seth Rollins at Summerslam for the WWE Universal Championship. You knew he couldn’t afford the distraction now. What were you gonna do? It’s not like you could change, nor would you want to change, what happened. Despite your initial feelings in the beginning, you were happy. But would Finn feel the same way?There was a knock on the bathroom door, causing you to come back to reality.

“Y/N? You okay, you’ve been in there for a while.” Finn’s voice gently called from the other side.

“Yeah, I’m fine, I’m just not feeling too well.” You replied, going over to your toiletry bag and hiding the test in there.

With a sigh you threw the box into the trash can grabbing some toilet paper and throwing it over the test. You stood back for a moment, looking at the trash can, finding your hiding of the evidence good enough. You went to the door and opened it, revealing a worried Finn on the other side.

“You’re still feeling sick, love?”

You gently nodded, letting Finn wrap his arms around you as you wrapped around his waist.

=================================

The next morning, you and Finn were getting ready for Raw in Anaheim. You packed up the remaining of your clothes when Finn walked out of the bathroom.

“Y/N.” Finn called out, holding up the box in his hand as he leaned against the wall. “Do you have something to tell me?”

Your stomach dropped as you stared at the box of your pregnancy test. 

“I’m sorry.” Was all you could say.

“How long have you suspected your were pregnant?”

“About a week. I took that last night and it confirmed it.” You said, opening your suitcase back up and grabbing the test from your toiletry bag.

Finn took it from you and looked at the little pink plus sign.

“Were you gonna tell me?” Finn asked after a moment.

“Of course I was. I was just…kinda scared to do it last night.”

“Why?” Curiosity filled Finn’s eyes as he looked at you.

You sighed and sat down on the bed. 

“Things have been so great career wise. I was scared that…what if you weren’t happy? This baby is gonna change things.”

“Oh, Y/N.” Finn sighed, sitting down next to you, putting the box and test behind the both of you. “Yes, a baby is gonna change things.” He shrugged before taking your hands in his. “But it’s gonna be for the better. We made a baby, my love. I couldn’t be happier.”

“Really?”

“Yes! Baby, you just told me that I’m gonna be a dad. We’re having a baby!”

Finn smiled at you brightly, cupping the side of your face. His eyes shined with unshed tears but told you everything you needed to know. Finn was happy...and you were gonna be parents.

[rushingheadlong]

Okay, so here’s some longer ramblings about my Thoughts on Brian’s use of Queen songs in his solo tours… focusing mainly on the Back to the Light tour here because by the time Brian toured for Another World he had a VERY different opinion about and relationship with Queen (in that I think he had reached a much healthier place with regards to the band than where he was in the early 90s).

Also specific tour info and setlists are all mainly from QueenConcerts.com, I’m not citing anything specifically in-text this time, sorry.

So I’ve talked about some of this before, but basically two big things to keep in mind here are that:

Back to the Light was Brian’s first solo album and first solo tour. (The Star Fleet Project doesn’t count, as he never toured with it, never recorded it with the intention of releasing it, and the album liner notes literally say that it’s not a solo album.) While obviously he had experience touring with Queen, touring solo was an entirely new experience for him with challenges he hadn’t really faced before.

Brian really wanted nothing to do with Queen after Freddie’s death and not just in an immediate, “I’m grieving and we need to figure out how the band is moving forward,” sort of way either - Roger and John were the ones to start sorting out the remaining tapes to make Made in Heaven because Brian refused to help at first. (Yes some of that was because of the BttL tour, but he started helping between tour legs in 1993… there was no reason he couldn’t do the same in 1992 except he just didn’t want to.)

And because of both of those things I think Brian was caught in this place of needing to distance himself from Queen (to give himself space to grieve, to find himself as a solo musician, to build a new identity for himself in the wake of everything that happened in the late 80s/early 90s…) and also recognizing that he couldn’t do that for a wide variety of reasons.

For one thing, Brian didn’t really have enough solo material to fill out an entire setlist. Take a look at a typical setlist from the BttL tour:

23 songs (+ the band introduction) and a 2-song encore. Of those 23 songs, 8 were Queen songs, though not always the full song. The remaining 15 songs included 3 separate solos (not counting Last Horizon) and two cover songs (1812 overture and Since You’ve Been Gone). The encore is another cover song and a Queen song.

(Of the BttL songs that he didn’t play regularly on his tour, Rollin’ Over is technically a cover to begin with, Nothin’ But Blue and Just One Life are both slower songs which Brian seems to have limited in his setlist, and the last is I’m Scared which he may have had trouble adapting to be able to play it live, given the “Chaos Karaoke” section in the middle.)

The point being, that Brian really didn’t have enough solo material to flesh out an entire 1.5-2 hour concert and at this point he didn’t even have enough covers ready to perform like he would for Another World. Picking Queen music to supplement his setlist was the most logical choice to go with.

Brian also would have been in the position where he was simply known best for his work with Queen, and there’s some evidence that he struggled with getting enough recognition for the early legs of the BttL tour. The South American leg in 1992, for example, was only 5 concerts and then for portions of 1993 Brian was actually touring in support of Guns N’ Roses rather than headlining the shows himself. (The first North American leg in early 1993 was also apparently rather poorly promoted.)

So Brian may very well have realized that he needed to lean into the Queen fans who had followed him over to his solo career, at least to some extent - and this in itself might have put him in a difficult position because not only did he not want to tie himself to Queen at this point in time but he probably also had to tread carefully to make sure that he wasn’t seen as trying to “profit” from Freddie’s death or music that was by-and-large considered to be Freddie’s in origin.

And he seems to have handled that by choosing to play songs that he wrote himself. Love of My Life is an obvious exception but he clearly acknowledges during concerts that he’s playing it for Freddie, and even so that song had morphed into a Brian-and-Freddie song over the years anyway just by virtue of how it was performed live over the years. He also plays a snippet of Bohemian Rhapsody, but everything else from Queen on that “typical” setlist are his songs. Even one-off Queen songs are generally his, or else just small snippets of someone else’s song (like the Mustapha clip). No one can say that he’s trying to “profit” off of Queen and Freddie if he’s technically still playing only his own music.

(If we want to veer off into absolute baseless wild speculation for a moment... I do wonder if Brian might have had legal concerns about playing Queen’s music. I don’t know anything about Roger’s work with The Cross, but the BttL tour took place before any of Roger’s true solo tours so this would have been the first time the question of playing Queen music after the “end of Queen” came up. And, unfortunately, it does happen that when groups disband that there are sometimes legal restrictions put in place on who can play what songs on solo projects.)

(I’m not saying that this was something that happened with Queen and, frankly, I don’t think Roger or John would have cared if Brian had wanted to play “their” songs... but I can see Brian, who was already in a very unstable place with regards to his mental health, building this up to be an issue in his own mind and letting his anxiety and depression run wild with it, and ultimately deciding to head off any issues by only playing “his” songs instead.)

Stepping back into things we have proof for, for the most part Brian chose songs of his that were faster and heavier and put them in places in his setlist where he can “power through” them without needing to pay them any special attention or really acknowledge that these are Queen songs to begin with. This lets him keep the energy of his concerts up in general (important for gigs where he was the support act) but also lets him trade on Queen fans’ recognition of songs like Now I’m Here and Hammer to Fall - these songs are known in a way that his solo work wasn’t (and still isn’t), so people who came to his shows to see “Queen’s guitarist” get moments strategically interspersed throughout the concert where they’re given high-energy songs that they know and can enjoy.

And the placement of the Queen songs is very strategic. Brian doesn’t go more than three songs (or 3 songs and a solo) without playing a Queen song, and he ends his concerts with the upbeat and well-recognized Hammer to Fall so even if people had felt “meh” about his solo work they get to leave the concert with a favorite Queen song fresh in their minds instead.

I also think that despite his feelings about Queen and the fact that Brian very clearly struggled with how to handle his obligations to the band in the wake of Freddie’s death, there was probably some amount of comfort in playing familiar songs during this period of time - not only as a way of dealing with his grief, but also to give himself moments where he needed to be less “on” because he already knew these songs so well after years of playing them (and simply by virtue of the fact that he wrote them himself).

If you watch enough of Brian’s solo concerts you can start to notice that there are moments where he tends to forget that he is the lead singer now. He starts wandering the stage during the guitar bits and almost doesn’t make it back to his mic in time to sing again, especially during the Queen songs. And I think for Brian there might have been a feeling of needing his solo songs to be “perfect” because (in his eyes) that was going to make-or-break his career as a musician after the end of Queen, but he could be lax with Queen’s stuff because that’s who he was and he knew the fans would be happy enough to hear him nail the Hammer to Fall guitar solo that it wouldn’t matter if he almost missed singing the next verse.

And, like I mentioned before, these early tours were difficult. He was touring with a new band, he was a support act again instead of the headliner (which meant adjusting his set to fit the limited time he had), he had technical difficulties, he was touring with a new and probably temporary guitar tech… As much as he wanted to stand on his own, I’d imagine these tours were probably incredibly stressful especially in the beginning, and having a few moments to just play music that he knew like the back of his hand was probably a godsend for him.

But at the end of the day, Brian still had an incredibly conflicted relationship with Queen at this time. His cover of God (Dream Is Over) is literally about the ending of Queen and includes the line, “I don’t believe in being Queen anymore, I just believe in me - just you guys and me.” He very strongly felt that Queen was over and he wasn’t in a position where he could handle any obligations to the band, and he was deeply mourning not only his friend’s death but the loss of something that brought him immense happiness over the last 20 years of his life.

On the one hand, the very specific and calculated ways in which Brian incorporated Queen songs into his solo tours is reflective of his attempt to distance himself from the band - but at the same time, Brian has said that returning to touring was like “therapy” for him after Freddie’s death, and I do think that by trying to be strategic about how he used Queen in his solo shows he inadvertently created a situation where he could work through his feelings about the band in an extremely controlled and positive environment.

Rather than being left to flounder and find a way forward on his own, he could go out and perform a carefully curated selection of Queen tracks to crowds that would respond positively and remind him that this music was still loved. He could play Love of My Life for Freddie and get it sung back to him and share his pain and grief with others so he wasn’t alone with it. He could give it his all performing his new music and then take a step back with a Queen song and just breathe and recognize everything that was good and was working for him in those moments.

And I think the fact that the tours were a source of healing for him is a large reason why he started working with Roger and John on Made in Heaven in the fall of 1993, even though he continued touring through mid-December, especially considering that he didn’t join them between tour legs earlier in 1992-1993. Granted, he probably would have eventually joined them regardless but I definitely think that if the BttL tours hadn’t been as therapeutic as they were he would have joined them later, and we probably would have gotten a very different album for Made in Heaven than what the final product did end up being.

(As a final sidenote, it’s worth noting that during his Another World tours Brian had roughly the same ratio of Queen songs to other material, except the bulk of Queen songs were played in one large chunk in the middle of his shows rather than strategically spread throughout the setlist. It seems like rather than building his concerts so slower songs were bookended by faster/heavier songs, he chose to put Queen songs in the middle surrounded by his solo material and covers - possibly because he didn’t feel like he needed to rely on Queen’s material to get him through a show, but he still wanted to acknowledge that music and that chapter of his life especially now that he was in a better place at least in terms of his relationship with Queen.)

[liloscreativeadventures]

I Don’t Miss You

Summary: After 2 years of dating, AJ and OC have called it quits. AJ not wanting to be in a relationship in fear that it might end up the same way his previous relationship did. In a divorce. Decides to save OC the trouble of disappointing her.

Pairing: AJ Styles x OC (Esme De Leon); Finn Balor x OC (platonic)

Author’s Note: So sorta been rekindling my love for wrestling and AJ styles so this is what has come out of it. Song is “Yeah, No” by Elle Winter. Characters other than Esme belong to WWE.

You know everything about me But you don’t know a single thing about me Didn’t we spend enough nights That you should me inside and out? Yeah, you’d think you’d know by now

AJ Styles walked into the arena that was hosting tonight’s Raw. He wasn’t scheduled to be there at the taping today since he would now be appearing on Smackdown. He was just stopping by to visit and hang out with some friends. He was really hoping to run into Esme. Esme was his ex-girlfriend of 2 years. He was hoping to talk to her about the decision that he had made several months ago. His poor decision in wanting to break up with her.

He had met Esme when he had first made his official WWE debut back in 2016. She had been one of the few people to approach him and introduce themselves. It had taken her a lot of courage to talk to him as she had long been a fan of his work since his days with TNA. But beyond that was her crush on him. She had never told him when they first met but it had come up when they had first started dating. She had dreams of meeting him one day but always faced that reality that it may never occur. Esme was like a breath of fresh air for him. She was shy and timid when it came to meeting new people. But the second you got to know her, a different side of her came out. A vibrant and bubbly personality that was waiting to come out.

She never cared about the age difference. He was almost 10 years older than her but she didn’t care. If he loved her than she loved him too. Their relationship did not need to be defined by how much older he was or how much younger she was. She made him happy. It was the most complete he had ever felt in his life. More complete than his previous marriage. But he had fears that if Esme and he ever got married, it would end up the same way as his previous marriage. He didn’t want that. He wanted to protect Esme from that happening. So he ended the relationship to save him from his fear of commitment in another relationship and to protect her from being able to have her dreams of being a wife and mom.

But you’re oblivious, clueless, frankly kinda stupid Thinking that I’m spending m time Home alone crying, wonderin’ why-ing Wishing that you were still mine

Finn Balor and Esme stood outside of the men’s locker room just catching up and going over his match with Seth Rollins and Jeff Hardy. Esme would be accompanying him to the match. She was dressed in one of Finn’s shirts that wardrobe had cut to be a backless halter crop top with black pants and black knee high boots. Her black waist length hair had been straightened with her bangs brushed to the right side of her face. “I’m really just glad it’ll be a fairly simple match for you. I don’t know if I could do anything in these boots.” She said making a face as Finn chuckled.

“I mean you do get a piece of the action in the end of the match.” Finn said as she laughed.

“That’s true.” Esme said as Finn looked down the hallway to see AJ walking in their direction.

Esme’s brown eyes turned to follow Finn’s eyes to meet AJ’s blue eyes that were staring right at her. The butterflies in her stomach fluttering inside and she had to remind herself that it was him who had decided to call it quits. ‘Don’t fall for his trap, Emmie. He was the one who wanted out of your relationship.’ She told herself. Finn looked between the two noticing the hesitation.

“Hey AJ. What are you doing here?” Finn asked breaking the silence as he shook hands with AJ.

“Just stopped by to visit everyone. What are you two up to?” He asked looking at Finn then back at Esme.

“Oh, we were just going over my match tonight.” Finn said as Esme nodded her head, “But I was just about to head to catering to get some water before. Did you guys wanna come?”

“I think I’m okay. I was actually hoping to talk to Esme for a second. If you had some time, Esme?” AJ asked looking at her as Esme looked from Finn to him.

“Umm yeah that’s fine. I’ll meet you before the match, Finn.” She said as Finn nodded his head leaving the two alone.

Esme pulled at her top as AJ looked at her. God he had to resist the urge to just kiss her. Esme bit her lip before looking at him to ask, “So what did you want to talk about?”

AJ took a deep breath before saying, “I miss you.”

Esme blinked her ears trying to make sure she heard him correctly, “I’m - I’m sorry?”

“I said I miss you, Esme. God I miss you so much.” He said looking at her as she took a step back.

“No - No - No you don’t get to say that, AJ. You don’t get to say you miss me when you’re the one who broke up with me. You wanted this. You wanted out of this relationship because you wanted to ‘save me the trouble’ of being hurt when the idea of marriage came up. So don’t say that.” Esme argued looking at him.

“I know, Emmie.” He said as she shot him a look at the sound of her nickname and he threw his arms okay, “I’m sorry. Force of habit. Look, I know I was in the wrong, Esme. I was honestly afraid of what was going on with our relationship.”

“You were afraid that we were gonna end up like your previous marriage?” Esme asked as he nodded his head, “Look AJ, I’ve told you many times that I’m not her. I will never be her. I love - loved you with everything that I had because you made me happy. I mean sure I would have loved the idea of being married to you but if it wasn’t something you weren’t ready for I wouldn’t have forced you into wanting that.”

“And I’m sorry, Esme. I should have let you know how I was feeling. I was just afraid to hold you back for those things. I wanted you to be able to be a wife and a mom. I just I couldn’t see that for myself until I really sat down and thought about it. I’m really sorry.”  AJ started to say as Esme looked away from him, “I realize that you’re not her. And if I could turn back time to fix everything, I would. Just so that I would have talked to you about this before I broke things up. I was stupid and I was afraid. But I want another chance with you. To prove that this time around things are going to be different. Esme, is there a chance that you would be willing to give us another a shot?”

Esme turned her head to look at him. Her brown eyes meeting his piercing blue eyes. Those blue eyes that she had come to love for so long.

Yeah, no, yeah, no Stop thinking I miss you Don’t, I don’t It never was an issue So let go Don’t tell me that you’re here for me ‘Cause I don’t give a **** boy, anymore Got my closure when I closed that door Bet you think my love is still yours, boy Bet you think my love is still yours, yours

Seth Rollins, Finn Balor, & Jeff Hardy vs. The Miz & Miztourage

Esme and Finn watched as Jeff and Seth headed out to the ring. Esme and Finn looked at each other smiling. They gave each other a fist bump. Something that had become a routine for them every time they headed out to the ring. Finn’s music started playing and they could hear the fans cheering. They stepped out to the top of the ramp and went in opposite directions to point to the fans before meeting each other in the middle. Walking down, Finn stopped midway to turn around to fix pop his leather jacket up while Esme blew him a kiss as her looked at her. They both made their way down towards the ring. Finn climbed the steps to rush to the middle as Esme climbed the stairs after him She met him at the middle and they posed. Her blowing a kiss to the fans as he bounced against the ring. She got in the ring as he made his way to the turnbuckle and climbed up to get into the ring. Standing next to Seth, they chatted for a bit laughing together.

AJ watched from the back. He took in the sight of her in the ring. He watched as she took Finn’s jacket and they shared a quick kiss. AJ’s stomach churned. He knew it was scripted but he was still protective of her. Esme smiled before climbing out of the ring with Seth’s help. She winked at him as he laughed at her climbing down. The ref rang the bell as the match started.

End of the Match

Seth pinned Miz to get the win as Esme jumped up and down outside of the ring. Seth got up to shake hands with Jeff but Bo Dallas went to attack them. Jeff caught him and hit the Twist of Fate as Finn climbed the turnbuckle hitting his move on Bo. They continued attacking Bo as Miz crept up behind Esme to grab her by the wrist. Esme screamed ‘Let me go!’ as the three guys looked her way and Finn got ready to jump out to help her. Esme leaned back to avoid the clothesline. Once his arm flew by her head, Esme turned her body so that she could kick Miz in the face. He fell to the ground just as Esme jumped on top of him to punch him in the face. Finn jumped out of the ring to pull her off. “That’s enough, Esme. Come on.” He whispered as she growled at Miz.

Jeff and Seth helped her into the ring as Finn climbed up beside her. Getting inside, the crowd cheered as Esme stood between Seth and Finn holding their arms up in the arm. The four of them climbed out of the ring making their way to the back.

After the match

They made their way back. They got out of gorilla and Jeff turned to look at Esme. “Did you really growl at him, Emmie?” He asked as the guys laughed.

Esme laughed punching Jeff in the shoulder, “I couldn’t help it.”

“The growl was extra emphasis on her attack.” Seth joked throwing his arm around her shoulder as they all laughed, “Come on. Onward we shall go.”

The guys dropped Esme off to the women’s locker where she grabbed her leather jacket and through it over her clothes. She wanted to go look for one of her close friend’s Natalya, who was also just visiting Raw. She found her in catering chatting with some other friends. Natalya got up and rushed to greet her. Pulling her into an embrace, “Emmie girl.”

“Hey Nattie! Good to see you.” She said as Natalya let go of her.

“How’s it been? Heard you ran into you know who.” Natalya said as they walked out of catering.

“I’ve been good. Technically I didn’t run into him. He was walking around the hallway looking for me” Esme said.

“Well what did he want?” Natalya asked as they walked down the hallway.

“Said he made a mistake and that he was sorry for breaking up with me.” Esme said giving Natalya the shorter version of the story.

But Nattie of course knew her better than that and looked at her, “And?”

“He wanted to see if there was a chance we could get back together.” Esme said as Natalya stopped walking.

Esme kept walking until she noticed Natalya wasn’t next to her. She turned to look at Natalya, “What?”

“He wanted to see if there was a chance you guys could get back together?” Natalya asked Esme nodded her head, “Please tell me you answered him yes.

Esme looked at her before saying, “Are you serious, Nattie? The guy was the one who wanted to break up with me. He was the one who wanted out because he “wanted to save me the trouble” of having my heartbroken if I ever thought of getting married with him because that wasn’t in his plans.”

“Emmie, what if he had a change of heart? I mean I know he was married before and he had fears that maybe your relationship would end up the same way his previous one did. But maybe he’s come to realize that you’re different and you’re not her?” She asked.

“That’s exactly what he said.” Esme said tugging on her leather jacket.

Yeah, no, yeah, no Yeah, no, yeah, no Yeah, no, yeah, no Yeah, no, yeah, no

But maybe just maybe she did miss him.