#it hurts when everywhere i go i see what is lacking. n simultaneously see the full of it

[noxtivagus]

i'm sorry

[katsulia]

Could i ask for an oikawa version of he offends you

He offends you - part4

featuring : Oikawa, Daichi

genre : angst to fluff

Atsumu and Kageyama version + part2 / Kuroo and Tsukishima version

Oikawa

"Babe I'm home! "you shouted and slammed the door behind you. And no sooner had you taken off your shoes than your boyfriend appeared in front of you like a dog excited to see his master come in.

"Y/N-chaaan," his voice rose in pitch as if to accompany his exaggerated pout. Automatically his arms came around your waist and although you liked being in his arms he was somewhat suffocating. The embrace lasted a few more seconds before he let go of you and you were able to move towards the living room. Your feet were like compote and you didn't want to move. Oikawa joined you.

"So how was your day? "you asked him as you put your bags on the floor before dropping onto the couch. Oikawa sat down on the couch and put his head on your lap.

"I had to say goodbye to my beautiful girlfriend who preferred to go shopping with someone else although we all know that I have the best taste in fashion ..." you couldn't help but hit him in the back of the head as Iwaizumi would surely have done. "Ouch! YN-chan! That was undeserved! You make me suffer even more when I already had to put up with your absence today! "You looked up at his idiocy before he resumed his story. "So I stayed alone in this house, far too big for one person, and I waited for hours for her to do me the honor of resurfacing. "At this level he could easily overshadow Shakespeare's best tragic characters, after all it was Oikawa Tooru. But it was all part of his personality and it never failed to make you laugh.

"Well, since you ask me, I went shopping, away from my very clingy boyfriend." At these words he opened his eyes wide and put his hand on his chest as if you just gave him a blow which makes you laugh out loud. "How dare you? "You tried to catch your breath and kept answering him with a big smile on your face. "I'm kidding, of course I'm kidding. But I still put my day to good use and I finally found a little black dress that was missing in my wardrobe." You hadn't really gone out with the idea of buying a dress, but you had completely cracked at the sight of it and it was a good thing since you didn't have one of those. Usually you were more hesitant as for the purchase of dress and skirt but this time you were confident.

"It is true? I want to see that right now!" Oikawa's eyes were shining and he got up immediately so you could go change. You rolled your eyes but deep down you were touched by his almost childish but totally adorable reaction. While you were pretending to be lazy, he took your hand and pulled you from the sofa. "Go and try it on! I'll wait here." You knew very well that he would not change his mind as he is and you went to your room, sticking out your tongue.

The dress was simple and basic but you liked it very much. You put it on quickly and took a little time to admire yourself in front of the mirror. For you, who was used to seeing you always wearing jeans, it was a nice change but not that unpleasant. The result will be even better when you have tanned legs but even so it was very nice. You took a deep breath and went to join your boyfriend in the living room.

"Tadam!" At the sound of your voice Oikawa took his hands away from his eyes (yes, he was always in excess). You even did a spin around and laughed a little to satisfy the desire for a show that he always liked. "I love it so much! My girlfriend is incredible! Come over here so I can admire the seams more closely!» Immediately you were pulled towards him and you fell on the couch laughing. With a masterful stroke he made you glide on his knees and positioned you comfortably on his legs. You came to put your arms around his neck while his left hand firmly grabbed your waist and his right hand stroked your thigh. "So it's true, do you like it?" It was obvious that Oikawa was totally seduced by what he saw, but using your seductive voice was always tempting in those moments. He was very close to biting his lips. "More than anything else. We should go back to that store, very good work. By the way, which one was it? I would bet on Zara!" You nodded, because he had found out which brand it was right off the bat. But it wasn't that surprising from him. "How did you guess? I bet you looked at the label! No, you saw me put the bag there!" You exclaimed. "Hm not even. But Saya used to go out there a lot and I remember a dress of hers that was in the same style. How Sherlock! " He winked and smiled a big, charming grin.

You didn't want to smile at all. He associated the dress you were wearing, the one you were so happy to have bought, with his ex Saya. Your face decomposed and immediately you began to let go of his hold on you. Does that mean he was still thinking about her? Probably. You wanted to take that dress off right away and throw it away.

Oikawa didn't immediately understand your reaction and wanted to hold you back, but he could sense that you wanted to let go of him. When only five seconds was all right? But it was when he saw the look in your eyes and your head down that he thought about what he had just said. Saya. His ex. Your dress. He was a complete idiot. There was no way to make up for it but he just wanted to show off his detective skills. If Iwa-chan had been there he would have hit him right away and it would have been deserved. But he didn't need him for that, he was already regretting it and he was cursing himself with all the insults in his head.

"Wait babe! That's not what I meant at all! Well ... I mean who cares about her!" His voice wasn't at all steady and he was at a loss for words. He had no idea what he could say in that kind of situation. If it had been the other way around, he would have taken your words too badly and would have been insulted that you mentioned your ex's name. But he was the one who had done that, he was the one who had hurt you and he knew full well that you didn't need that. "Yet you're the one who talked about her when I ..." He was totally panicked and knew he was at fault but wouldn't let you finish your sentence. "Yes I know it's me! And I shouldn't have! It's unwelcome and very inappropriate of me! But I assure you that it is not her that I think of when I see you! Or ever actually!" He had never spoken so fast before, but that's because he knew what he had just done was terrible and he had to act quickly so you wouldn't get the wrong idea. His throat was tight and he couldn't imagine how you must be feeling. He took your hands in his and forced you to look at him. "I'm really sorry... And um... I apologize... I see you all the time, everywhere. I assure you that you are the only person in my mind! And I know it seems like I just proved the opposite, but you are the most important person to me and the one I love the most, I would never want to replace you either with a person from my past or anyone else." Tears were flowing down your cheeks simultaneously and it was almost as if you were in a romantic comedy. (Nothing very unusual with Oikawa).

When he saw that you didn't totally reject his touch he embraced you tenderly. He kept whispering excuses while he was bent over your head. "I know Tooru. " It could still be heard in your voice that you were upset, but you couldn't remain insensitive to a totally vulnerable Oikawa. You, in turn, put your arms around his waist and took a long inhale into the crook of his neck. Next week you'll laugh when you think back on it, sometimes he was completely romantic that it was worthy of one of the greatest shojos in history. But you wouldn't change your relationship for anything in the world, let alone a partner. For the moment you were just enjoying this very intimate moment. It was sure that the food you brought back was cold now, but it didn't matter.

Daichi

These days your schedule was much less busy, which allowed you to enjoy some free time. But unfortunately this was not the case for Daichi, who could not leave the police station at his leisure. It wasn't dramatic either and you organized yourself to coordinate with his work hours. You often treated yourself to a late morning, although you always managed to kiss him before he left the house. During the day you were free to do whatever you wanted and when you weren't going out with your friends you would slump on the couch to catch up on your series. Sometimes, when it was possible, you would join Daichi in the city at his lunch break and find joy in eating ramen with him in the small restaurant near his work. And finally, when the clock struck 8 p.m., announcing Daichi's arrival, you knew that the best time of the day was coming.

You liked this domestic life even if the lack of productivity was becoming noticeable and you couldn't help but get back to your office files. To make up for this lack of activity, you would dive into the kitchen and try out a lot of new recipes. You even managed to make 100% homemade cold soba when you used to buy them at the supermarket. Daichi always rewarded your efforts with his best compliments and his most beautiful smile. Tonight was no exception to this new routine and this time you had perfected your sushi, eager to get your partner's opinion.

As it was Friday, you had decided to set the cutlery on the coffee table in the living room so that you could eat comfortably and quietly in front of the TV. But it was almost 8:15 p.m. and Daichi still hadn't come through the door. At first you didn't pay too much attention to it knowing that there was a lot of traffic on the weekend, but now the clocks were pointing to 9 p.m. and he still hadn't come in. You were immediately no longer reassured and decided to call him. When after two rings you thought he was finally answering you found yourself on his voicemail. Did he decline your call? It was absolutely not in his habit and you called him back thinking that he had made a wrong manipulation. However, you were not as lucky as the first time and as soon as it started ringing you were redirected to voice mail. As you looked at your screen in shock a message from him appeared. Your fingers were faster than your mind and rushed to display the notification.

From: Hubby I'm at the bar with some colleagues, I'll be back later.

At least you were relieved but somewhat disappointed. It's true that from time to time Daichi would meet his friends and that' s a good thing, he also made time for himself. Normally he had the decency to warn you, he knew you weren't going to say anything, it wasn't your style to complain about him going out with his friends. Despite the disappointment in your heart, you didn't intend to hold it against him and you were still going to enjoy your wonderful sushi. And if you even managing to hold back from eating everything you'd let him have some. That's how you spend your evening in front of the last episodes of Nightmare in the kitchen enjoying your own culinary art.  

On the stroke of 11:30 pm you recognize the sound of Daichi's car engine parked in front of the house. You were expecting him to come home later, but it suited you because it meant that you could go to bed at the same time as him. He carefully hung up his jacket and walked into the living room. His rosy cheeks were an indication of his alcohol consumption, probably in small doses since he'd been driving, and his face was adorable. He slumped down on the couch and he let out a long sigh, it must have been a long week for him.

“How was your day?” you asked him as you stroked his cheek with your thumb. When your fingers touched him he closed his eyes and began to relax.

“It was tiring, I'm exhausted.” You could hear the tiredness that had taken over his body in his voice only.

“I didn't know you were out tonight, but I left you some sushi, your favorite.”

“Aaargh Y/N.” He let a growl rise while keeping his eyes closed.

“Uhm what?”

“You didn't have to call me like that, it made the guys at the bar laugh, almost as if you were the cop!”

“Oh sorry to worry about you! I just wanted to know where you were !”

“You don't have to act like my mother, I don't need that!” He left a long puff and immediately you put some distance between the two of you.

It was quite rare for Daichi to get carried away like that and honestly you were a little upset. After waiting for him all evening and worrying about him, you probably didn't deserve such a reaction. And you knew it, that's why you didn't bother to answer and got up without saying anything; you just wanted this day to end and you hurried back to bed. Yet you couldn't help but recall what he had said. He had almost implied that you had embarrassed him by calling him in front of his co-workers. His words were still ringing in your head and you were just fidgeting in bed, it was impossible to fall asleep even with the lights off.

The sound of running water ceased and was replaced by footsteps signaling that Daichi had finished his shower and was on his way to your room. Immediately you rolled over to your side and closed your eyes. You felt him slide gently between the sheets and take place beside you.

“I know you're not sleeping”. You were surprised to hear him speak but you didn't move an inch. Even though you weren't sleeping you didn't want to talk to him at all.

“I don't want us to go to bed without fixing things.”

“No answer? Okay, I hope you are listening to me then. I'm sorry, I know you were just worried and if I were you I would have done the same thing.” You could hear the regret in his voice but it didn't change the fact that he felt embarrassed in front of others just because you called him. You turned and laid on your back with your eyes glued to the ceiling.

“Okay. But you didn't want me to call you in front of your colleagues. Are you ashamed of me?” Your tone was much colder and dryer than his which was totally understandable as you were in fact hurt.

“No babe, I would never be embarrassed to be with someone as incredible as you, it's just... I know I was going to behave like a simp after I drank to the sound of your voice... And they would never have let me down with that at the station... That doesn't excuse my behavior. But I want you to know that I love you and I would never want to hide you or for you to stop paying attention to me.” He was totally sincere at the time. It's true that it was completely dumb of him to act that way, but he didn't want you to think that he was ashamed of you or anything. Slowly you turned to his side this time and he took the opportunity to put an arm around your waist to bring you closer to him. You could smell his shower gel and his body heat. Instinctively you felt better and much more reassured until you nested your head in the crook of his neck.

“I love you.” You murmured softly and closed your eyes serenely this time. He kissed you on your forehead which made you smile and put you to sleep with butterflies in your stomach.

[sapphirelass]

I’ll be by your side - Remus LupinxDaughter!Reader

Hi!! Wooow I’m a slow writer XD To be fair though, I am graduating in June, so there’s...quite a lot to do. Anyhow, this is part 3 of my imagine deal? so I’d recommend reading that one and part 2 first. Remus is my favourite HP character, so this mainly focuses on the relationship between him and his daughter, but I guess it’s slight HarryxReader as well ;)

Deal? (Part 1) | Oh, darling... (Part 2) | I’ll be by your side (Part 3)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Please note:

1: I don’t own any of the gifs used, nor any already established characters, so credit to the authors and original creators - You have done a phenomenal job :)

2: English is not my native language, as I was born and raised in Sweden. I have, however, studied English for almost a decade, so I don’t think it’ll be a problem, I just thought I’d let you know ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You probably already know this, but still:

Y/N - Your name

Y/N/N - Your nickname

Y/H - Your house

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Word count: ≈ 2200

Warnings: Battle of Hogwarts, Angst, Blood, Death :(

Enjoy! :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“But, dad! You can’t go yourself and then expect me not to come along!”

“Yes, (Y/N/N), I can, and I will!”

He was desperate to go join the rest of the Order, and searched frantically for his old coat.

“Bu-”

“Darling, listen, this is not your fight, okay? You’re staying with Tonks and Teddy this time, and I’ll-”

She had grabbed his coat and was holding it behind her back, out of her father’s reach.

“DAD!!”

Remus stopped for a moment and took a proper look at his daughter for the first time since receiving the message about the upcoming battle.

“Look, I’m seventeen years old. I’m an adult now, and most of my younger friends are fighting. There’s literally no reason for me not to!”

“There is a perfectly good reason and you know that! Besides, your age is completely irrelevant! It wouldn’t matter if you were fifteen or seventeen, twenty or thirty, I don’t want you fighting!”

His voice was stern, which admittedly wasn’t too uncommon, but it lacked the normal comedic undertone and not even a ghost of a smile could be seen on his face. This did make (Y/N) feel quite uncomfortable, but she was not giving up. She couldn’t leave everyone else and just sit quietly on the sidelines. Surely he understood that, right?

“Well, I’m sorry, but it’s not your choice to make. I know you don’t like it, but I’m going.” 

She gave her father his coat and picked a jumper for herself, but stopped abruptly when approaching the front door. Remus had stepped in front of her, and pulled her into a tight hug.

“Please, darling… I can’t have you injured again - or worse! Stay.”

“Dad, I promised you two years ago that I would pick my fights more wisely. We made a deal. And I am choosing this one.”

“(Y/N), it’s not the same! Seeing you hurt back then caused me more pain than you could possibly imagine, but this will be worse. Far worse. An-”

“Don’t you think I know that?” It wasn’t her intention to snap at him, but they didn’t have time for this argument. People were waiting. “I know it’s for real this time, it most definitely was two weeks ago, but I honestly thought you would have more faith in me. I’m not five, okay?!”

“(Y/N/N), don-”

She pulled out of his embrace, tied her shoes and apparated. Leaving him in the middle of an argument like that broke her heart. She knew the chances of them both making it out alive were low, unharmed close to none. They did, however, not have a choice. There was no time to waste. Voldemort could be attacking the castle this very moment, and Harry, Dumbledore’s army and the rest of the Order would need all the help they could get…

~~~

(Y/N) ran down the stairs, desperately searching for any familiar faces, and eventually spotted one she had really longed to see.

“Harry!!”

He turned at the sound of his name and smiled - really smiled - when their eyes met. They weren’t more than a few feet away from each other, and it didn’t take long before they met in the middle.

“(Y/N/N)! You alright?” They hugged each other tightly and enjoyed the feeling of safety, if only for a few seconds. “What happened to your arm?”

She followed his gaze and found her sleeve torn and shoulder covered in blood. It wasn’t too bad though, she hadn’t even noticed it before Harry pointed it out.

“I-I don’t know, it’s fine. How are you feeling?”

He looked down at her and used a bloodied and scarred hand to push some of her hair behind her ear. He wanted to say “fine”, but it would have been a lie.

“Scared”, he admitted, “But also ready. Let’s finish this, once and for all?”

She nodded. “You’re right! How can I help?”

“Well, some people are trying to evacuate all the younger students through the room of requirement, think you could lend them a hand?”

“Sure! Good luck Harold, see you!”

He shook his head at the nickname, but smiled nonetheless.

“Right, good luck. And (Y/N/N)?”

“Yeah?”

“Stay alive, will you?”

“I’ll do my best on one condition.”

“Hmm?”

“You do the same”

He gave her a nod before continuing up the stairs.

“And Harry, we don’t have time for the full story, but if you run into my dad, let him know I’m sorry, will you?”

~~~

Sure, (Y/N) loved Hogwarts, it was her second home, but this was proper chaos! Most of the younger kids were finally safe, but the battle was far from won. There were death eaters everywhere. She stumbled behind suit of armor, narrowly avoiding a flash of red light, and suddenly remembered something her dad had said the other night: 

“It is the quality of one's convictions that determines success, not the number of followers” 

She knew it was meant to work as motivation, but thinking about it now just made her feel sad. How could she be so stupid? She fought her way through the corridors, but after turning a corner, she found herself facing an empty hallway? A chill went down her spine as the booming voice of Lord Voldemort could be heard all throughout the grounds. He was ordering his followers to back down, hoping to get Harry to come directly to him. Great! Now she had two people to find before it was too late...

~~

Entering the great hall this time felt nothing like it had almost seven years ago. There were people everywhere. Students, teachers, children, former graduates and parents - all in this together, mourning, comforting and healing.

(Y/N) would have noticed Fred Weasley surrounded by the rest of his family. Neville and Oliver Wood carefully moving Colin Creevey out of the way. She would have seen all of them, had it not been for a certain old, brown coat in her peripheral vision. 

Her world fell apart, she found herself unable to breathe and didn’t realize she had sprinted towards her father before she felt two, strong arms wrap around her. (Y/N) struggled and tried to push them away, but didn’t have enough strength to do so. She crumpled to the ground and was pulled into a tight embrace.

“(Y/N/N)…”, a soft voice mumbled. “I’m so sorry. Can you try to breathe slower, please? Deep and easy, alright.”

She realized that someone was speaking to her, but she didn’t recognize the words. They held no meaning, almost as if he spoke a different language, or stood very far away. (Y/N) eventually stopped hyperventilating and tried to ease the shaking as she slowly turned to check who it was, sitting with his arms around her. Her eyes met a pair of emerald green ones.

“Harry.” she whispered, still crying but trying to keep her focus on him. There was so much more she would have wanted to say, but she was unable to find the right words. “Please tell me.... Tell me he’s no-...”

“‘m sorry”

They sat for a few minutes before Harry picked a small vial from his pocket and asked if she’d be okay.

“(Y/N/N), I’m sorry, but I have to go. It’s not over yet.”

She took a deep breath.

“It’s fine, I get it. Go. I’d love a moment alone anyways.”

~~~

She sat by her father’s side for a while, but felt unable to look at him, not wanting to fully accept the reality of the situation. It was when the fifth person came up to her to give their condolences that she got up and left the great hall. She couldn’t take it, and besides, it should be fine. The death eaters had left.

She walked the familiar path towards the (Y/H) common room, but nothing seemed... real. It felt like a nightmare, only this time she couldn’t talk it through with her dad over a cup of tea. This time, nobody would be there to convince her it was just a bad dream. 

This time, no one would wake her up…  

The very moment that thought crossed her mind, a dark chuckle shattered the otherwise eerie silence.

“Avada kedavra”

She barely had time to register Antonin Dolohov with his wand pointed in her direction before an intense flash of green light caused her world to go dark.

This time, she wouldn’t wake up.

~~~

*Darkness*

*A flicker of light*

*A flicker of... hope*

*Warmth?*

~~~

It was a weird feeling. She didn’t feel happy, but rather… at peace. She sat up slowly and let her eyes adjust to the brightness as two voices simultaneously asked:

“(Y/N/N)?!”

She turned around and found herself face to face with a rather tall, red haired wizard, and a slightly older man with longer brown hair.

“Fred? Sirius?”

Fred skipped over and held out his hand, helping his younger friend to her feet. He immediately noticed her dried tears and pulled her into a tight embrace. Sirius remained a few feet away with a pained expression on his face, but was unable to stay quiet for long.

“What happened?”

(Y/N) pulled away and met her godfather’s worried gaze.

“I… It’s my fault. I thought all the Death Eaters had left the castle. They were waiting for Harry in the forbidden forest and I just needed some air...”

“Did Harry go?”

A couple (Y/N) had only seen in pictures, but knew to be James and Lily Potter, had appeared behind Sirius.

“I’m not sure. He left for Dumbledore’s office about fifteen minutes earlier. I’m sorry I didn’t even try to stop him but, with all due respect, he would have gone anyways. It’s impossible to change his mind once he decides on something.”

To her surprise, none of Harry’s parents looked very worried, but shared a smile instead.

“Don’t worry, (Y/N/N).”, said Lily gently, “He’ll know what to do when the time comes.”

“You’ve both come so far”, added James, “Things will be fine in the end, and if they’re not fine, then it’s not the end.”

“I hope you’re both right…”, she mumbled quietly, “sorry, but is dad…?”

James smiled sadly and nodded before turning to call his old friend over, however Sirius got there first.

“Oi! Moony! Get over ‘ere.”

Remus had been discussing something not too far away, and Sirius’ comment made him chuckle as he approached the other marauders. 

“Easy, Pads, you make it sound li-”

That was all he had time for, as two arms wrapped themselves tightly around his torso. He would have known who it was even without looking. He’d recognize that hug anywhere. He promised himself he wouldn’t cry, but all it took was one word.

one. single. word.

 “Dad!” 

A single word before hot, salty tears filled his eyes. It wasn’t possible!? He was completely lost for words. Didn’t know how to react, what to say or what to do. He just stood there, his arms wrapped around his only daughter, unable to process the fact that she was… dead. They both were.

“Dad, I’m so so so sorry! I shouldn’t have shouted, I shouldn’t have taken my anger or fear out on you and above all I shouldn’t have left!?! I… I..”

“(Y/N/N)”

“And now Teddy won’t have his father-”

“(Y/N/N)!!”

“And I swear I tried to find you, but I couldn’t and then it was too late and it’s all my fault a-”

“(Y/N) Lupin!!!���

She fell silent but didn’t let go.

“I’m s-”

“Darling, calm down! What’s done is done, alright. I still wish you hadn’t gone, especially given the apparent outcome, but I understand. Are you okay? Nothing broken?”

“No, I’m good, actually… Nothing hurts at all, but-”

“Good!” He pulled away and put his hands on her shoulders. “Would you mind letting me in on what happened?”

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, not really wanting to talk about the last few hours, yet knowing she owed her father that much.

“I… I entered the great hall and saw… you. I don’t quite know what happened, I just… broke. Then Harry showed up and we just hugged, I guess?”

Lily and James looked at each other and smiled.

“Then we both left and Dolohov appeared out of nowhere and… well that’s that.”

Remus shook his head sadly, immediately understanding the true meaning of his daughter’s words. HE was duelling Dolohov earlier that night. HE lost that duel. Had he won then maybe, possibly, she would still be alive too. His fault... as always

“Remus? Rem?”, James mumbled, putting an arm around his friend’s shoulders, “It’s not your fault. You tried, and that’s the best either of us can do.”

~~~

Things didn’t go according to plan, but perhaps they were the way they were always meant to be.

Her body next to her fathers, as they rested peacefully in the great hall. Her soul next to her father, as they wandered through the deep valleys of Nangijala, awaiting the day lost friends and lovers would come join them. No matter in this life or in the next;

I’ll be by your side 

~ L

Masterlist

[ssa-thotchnerr]

Missing You

Aaron Hotchner x Daughter!Reader

Warnings: ANGST!! blood,  violence, swearing, hospitals

Word count: 2.4K words

A/N: My first full Hotch fic! I hope you guys like this, and I hope to write more one-shots if you guys request for them!

—

You looked up at the ceiling as your heard footsteps coming from upstairs. You were being kept in the basement of the unsubs house, you weren't sure the last time you saw natural light was. You were shaking, fearful of what torture you would be put through at that moment. Your breathing picked up as the stairs down to the basement creaked, and the door swung open.

"Get up," He snarled, growing angry when you tried your hardest to stand up, but ultimately failed. "Dammit, I said get up!" He yelled, striding towards you and yanking you up to your feet and grabbing your hair roughly, pulling your head back to keep a proper grip on you.

"Plea-please let me go," You whimpered. Your jaw dropped as your dads team came in, Morgan and Rossi leading the group as Reid and Hotch stood in the back, your dad without a gun so he didn't make any rash decisions. The UnSub grinned as he pulled out his knife. In the usual run of things, you would have been overjoyed to see your dad again, but this was not the usual run of things.

"Daniel Robson, drop the knife and let her go," Rossi demanded, watching carefully as he taunted you with the knife, dragging it over your skin. "You don't want to do this." He said. The unsub shook his head and laughed, tilting his head. You choked on a sob as he yanked your hair harder. Hotch was panicking, but he couldn't show it, this is what he wanted and he would be damned if he would give it to him.

"Don't I?" He asked, raising his eyebrows as the knife came to rest at your stomach. You made eye contact with your dad, while he appeared calm, you could tell by the look in his eyes that he was anything but. The Unsub put his face in the crook of your neck, you knew better than to fight back. "I'm so sorry." He whispered. Before you could take in what that meant, he pushed the knife into your stomach. He pulled the knife out, and made another motion, centimetres away from the initial stab wound.

Your mouth fell open in a silent scream.

Derek fired a shot through his skull as Hotch ran towards you, unable to catch you as you fell to the floor. You didn't feel the pain of your head hitting the floor, you didn't really feel anything at all.

"D-dad?" You stuttered out, looking up at him as your eyes were able to focus on him. "Y-You came." A grin appeared on your face as he lifted your head into his lap. Derek had called an ambulance, while Rossi was holding Spencer back. The genius saw you as the little sister he didn't know he wanted. You were a smart kid, a good kid, you deserved everything but this. You were shivering, whether it be because of the cold or shock, no one knew, it was probably the latter. Hotch had his hand gently resting on the wounds on your stomach, coating his hands in blood.

Your blood.

"Of course I came," Hotch said, pushing your hair away from your face. "Derek, where's that damn ambulance?" He asked, turning his head away from you for a second to look at Derek. You coughed, causing the pain from your wounds to skyrocket, blood coming out from your mouth as you spluttered. You knew that was a sign of internal bleeding, and you felt your heart stop, it wasn't a good sign.

"Am-Am I gonna die?" You asked him, your voice shaking as you looked up at him, the life from your eyes that mirrored your fathers slowly draining. Hotch put up a brave facade, he had to, he couldn't bear to think about how he'd have to explain to Jack how his big sister would never be coming home. He didn't want to think about losing you, it was always supposed to be him, never you. "Cause-cause dad, I-I don't wanna die." You said, a break in your voice as tears leaked from your eyes. Rossi had taken the Boy Genius out of the room, outside to JJ and Emily to tell them what had happened. Derek had called the ambulance again, and tried his hardest to keep a level head when doing so. Hotch's heart broke at your fear filled question, you were barely 16, you shouldn't be in this situation.

You'd regretted the fight you had with your dad that night, the things you said to each other still hurt to think about. Neither of you were in the right, but neither in the wrong. As you'd stormed out of the house, your last thought was that you'd be kidnapped.

You didn't think you'd be dying in your dads arms.

"Don't say that, Y/N. You're not gonna die, we're getting you out of here and you'll go home and you'll see Jack," He said. Your breathing started to become more laboured, and the ensuing panic that took over you. "Calm down, Y/N, you're only going to make things worse for yourself," Hotch said, his hands shaking as he ran his fingers through your hair. Your eyes started to droop as you became more and more tired, your dad noticed. "Hey, look at me, keep your eyes open, don't you dare close your eyes on me Y/N Hotchner." He said through gritted teeth. Lazily, you looked up at your dad and smiled.

Your eyes closed.

-

Hotch sat staring in front of him, his blood coated self had gone into autopilot, occasionally looking around at his team. The ambulance had gotten there just as you fell unconscious, and it was in the ambulance when he was gripping your hand he'd let himself break down in tears. Everyone had come, Morgan, JJ, Reid, Rossi, Prentiss and Penelope came. They'd tried to get your father to talk to them, but Hotch was even more stoic than usual.

"Aaron Hotchner?" A doctor came out, his scrubs covered in blood. Hotch was fearing the worst, God, it was one of his worst fears. He stepped outside of the waiting room and prepared himself, that's what he told himself. He told himself he was ready for it, but how could you be ready for this?  "Mr. Hotchner, your daughter will be fine. She suffered massive blood loss, she's had transfusions and they appear to be working perfectly, she's awake, but I'm gonna ask that only you go in right now, other family members will have to wait,” The doctor said, smiling as your dad nodded. “She’s a fighter, I’ll give that to her, Mr. Hotchner, it’s a miracle she survived.” He said, smiling at your dad and leading him up the hall to where your room was.

"Believe me, I know,” He said, a small smile on his face as he looked into the room through the window. “Thank you," Hotch said, looking back as he walked to the room where you were. You were laying on the hospital bed, a bored look on your face as you looked around, only for the bored look to disappear and a smile to appear at the sight of your dad. "Hey." He said, taking a seat beside you and holding your hand in his.

"Hi," You said, a pained look on your face as you twisted around the wrong way, causing sharp pains to shoot through your abdomen. "That hurt." You winced, looking up at your dad as he laughed.

"How are you feeling?" He asked you.

"As good as I can after being stabbed twice," You deadpanned to him. Hotch smiled sadly as you let out a sigh, playing with the ends of the hospital blanket. "I don't think I've ever been so scared." You said quietly, refusing to make eye contact with your dad.

"I know you were scared, I know I was," He said, eliciting a small laugh from you. "Jacks been asking about where you were for the past three weeks, I was running out of things to tell him."

"Speaking of Jack, where is he?" You asked.

"He's with Jessica, don't worry, he's fine," Hotch assured you. You nodded and sighed, resting your head on the pillow and only realising just how tired you actually were. "Tired?" He asked you. You nodded in response and looked at your dad through tired eyes, smiling lazily when he kissed the top of your head. "Alright, get some rest. You're gonna get an earful from Garcia when you wake up about how she's gonna follow you everywhere so nothing bad every happens to you again." He said, quoting Garcia's words from the brief phone call the pair had shared.

"Oh boy, I'm looking forward to it," You grumbled, your voice mumbled by the pillow your face was shoved into. Hotch chuckled and shook his head as he left the hospital room and back to the waiting room. Everyone looked up at him simultaneously.

"She's gonna be fine," Hotch told them, a chorus of signs coming from the members of the BAU.

"Can we see her?" Spencer asked, standing up from the uncomfortable hospital seat that he'd moulded himself into hours earlier.

"Not right now, they're only letting family in for now, that and she's asleep and I don't advise waking Y/N up on any good day," Hotch said, getting a laugh from the rest of the team. "Alright, I have to go, Jessica's dropping Jack off soon and I'm gonna have to tell him about Y/N." He said. Everyone nodded and wished you well as Hotch left, then the team following suit.

—

"Can you tell me why I'm not allowed to go to school but to the BAU? You're not working a case, are you?" You asked your dad, looking over at your dad as he pulled into the parking lot of the building. Hotch shook his head as he looked over at you, you knew something was up when he wasn't dressed in his usual work attire, and he'd told you that you'd have a day away from your home school work, since you obviously wouldn't be going back to school for a while.

“I can’t tell you that, it’ll ruin the surprise,” Hotch said, getting out of the car and waiting for you to do the same. You walked over to him as you both started walking into the building. You stepped into the elevator and played some game on your phone until the doors opened with a ping. You cautiously stepped out, taking in the lack of noise from the bullpen. “What are you doing?” Your dad asked you, noticing you’d stopped dead in your tracks. First of all, it was a Saturday and the entire building was empty. Second of all, your dad was never so quiet when it came to things like this, yeah, the man could keep a secret, but he’d always tease you about it, just to piss you off.

So, what made this so special?

“I don’t trust this, I can’t hear Reid mouthing off facts no one asked for or Morgan replying to said useless facts,” You said, raising your eyebrows as you spoke. Hotch nodded his head, understanding where you were coming from.

“Come on, Y/N, let’s go,” Your dad said, standing behind you and pushing you forward, eliciting a groan from you. As he pushed you into the bullpen, you were greeted with a chorus of ‘Surprise!’ and Penelope firing party poppers at you.

“I...do not know what to say,” You said, turning back to look at your dad, whose face held a knowing smirk. “You did this?” You asked him.

“With help from the obvious,” Emily commented. Garcia ran forward and hugged you gently, mindful of the bandages visible through your sweatshirt.

“Oh my sweet, sweet, baby Hotchner, you’re never leaving my sight again,” She said, repeating to you what she’d already said back at the hospital. You smiled at her and giggled, nodding as you raised your hands to not oppose the idea she had. After talking to everyone else, you settled beside Spencer, who put his arm around you. When he’d first met you when you were 5 years old, he’d worried about the Reid effect, he was going to make his bosses daughter cry. But, he was shocked when you were completely calm around him, so comfortable that you were the first person you’d introduced yourself to.

“I’m gonna have to agree with what Garcia said earlier,” Spencer said, getting a groan from you as you looked up at him. “I, being serious! I mean, you’re really small and realistically, you happen to be a-“

“Spencer, shut up,” You said, jokingly punching his shoulder. “Just calm down, alright? I’m fine, you don’t need to worry about me. I already have my dad doing that constantly since I got home from the hospital.” You told him.

“Exactly, he’s your dad, Y/N, it’s pretty much his job to worry about you,” Spencer reminded you. “And worry he did, after your fight, he was snappier, more so than usual.” You smiled sadly.

“Yeah, it got pretty ugly,” You said, raising your eyebrows as you played with the ties of your grey sweatpants. “We’re alright, though. I think after this whole thing we’ve made a silent pact not to fight anymore.” Spencer smiled as he nodded.

“That’s good, you shouldn’t fight with your dad, I don’t know who’d be worse, you or him,” You shook your head and rested it against Spencer’s shoulder.

“Talk quieter, if he hears you it’ll turn into a competition,” You said, a grin on your face as you looked up at Spencer. Like him, you considered him the older brother you never knew you wanted. “That would get nasty really quickly.”

“I kinda wanna see it now,”

-

Taglist - Open!

@psych0crybaby @laiba-the-person

[jiaraendgame]

Hi! Can you write a little blurb about Rafe?? Maybe like his reaction to you deep cleaning your guys’ apartment and maybe you found a number or something? And he reassures you that it’s not what you think?? Idk something like that. You don’t have to if you don’t want to, thank you!

Wires Crossed Rafe x Reader

A/N: Lovely anon I’m sorry this took two days to finish up! Thank you so much for being the first person ever to ask me for a blurb! I had planned for it to be done way sooner, but uh I got a bit carried away. I am not good at writing anything small so oops! This is lowkey no longer a little blurb as requested but a full imagine/fic I hope you like this little adventure! 

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of past drug abuse, baby angst, fluff, domestic Rafe. Non-canon Rafe IE he isn’t a murderer. Probs out of character a bit cause I lowkey usually write the psycho mean Rafe so this was a challenge but I enjoyed it!

Word Count: 3k+

It was no surprise you were up before Rafe was. You’d always been an early riser. However, when you awoke right as the sun just began to kiss your cheeks through the blinds, you knew you’d be waiting quite some time for your sleepy boyfriend to join you for the day. You look up at Rafe’s soft face. Mouth slightly ajar as faint hums of breath leave his lips. He looked so saintly at this moment. You didn’t want to disturb him, so you attempted to slip from his arms, but the motion caused the boy to stir. Curse his light sleeping, you thought. The boy's eyes softly fluttered open and gazed down at you as he instinctively pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Good morning, angel…” his voice slurred in its sleepy tone. “Where are you going so early this morning? It’s barely even…” He glances at the clock sitting on the nightstand. “Baby… it’s barely even 6:30am, don’t leave me yet.” He whines as he wraps his arms back around your torso.

You giggle at the pout on his face as he reels you in burying his face in your neck. You can feel his breath on your skin, tempting you to lay here with him for a moment longer. However, you knew if you didn’t get up now, you’d be late for the events Rafe had planned for the day.

“I didn’t mean to wake you, babe, I was just trying to prepare for today. Seeing as you haven’t told me any of the events you had in store. I need to be ready for anything with you.” A light giggle escapes your lips.

“ Just close your eyes again love, you can drift back off for a while, and in another hour or so, you can join me, okay? Just because I’m up doesn’t mean you have to be.”

“But baby doll, I want to make sure you are rested for the day I have planned. You know me and the boys can get a bit chaotic, I don’t need you getting worn out because of us.”

It’s true whenever Topper and Kelce visited from the Outer Banks, you were sure in for a rush of excitement that often ended up tiring you out. Unfortunately, you were the type of person who once you were awake, there was no way for you to fall back asleep. Even if you are comfortable and safe in the arms of your love.

The boy was drifting back to sleep, and you used this as your opportunity to free yourself from his loving grip. One more sleepy glance and sigh, leaving Rafe’s lips. He knew he has lost this battle. 

“Looks like you’re the one who will need the rest babe, just sleep a bit more I will be out in the living room when you are ready to get up.” You whisper to Rafe placing a soft but chaste kiss to his lips. “Sweet dreams, my sleepy boy.”

He smiles as you pull away, “I’ll be dreaming of you, angel.” With that, it was not long before Rafe had fallen back into his slumber. You raise from the bed as softly as you can silently leave the bedroom, closing the door with a subtle click. Today was shaping up to be interesting if Rafe was this lovey-dovey in his sleepy state.

Looking around your small apartment, you began to realize that neither of you had cleaned for days. There was glassware and other miscellaneous dishes piled in the sink. Books and papers spread across the breakfast bar from your late-night study session. But the worst culprit was the living room. There were clothes on the floor next to the almost toppling hamper and throw blankets splayed across the back of the futon. 

It’s not that you and Rafe were messy, quite the opposite usually, but as of late with everything going on, you both let your daily tasks slip your minds. The small one-bedroom apartment looked as if a tornado blew through it, and thus you found your distraction to keep you occupied until Rafe was ready to go to brunch. Topper and Kelce were visiting from the Outer Banks, and you couldn’t have them see your apartment in this state. Even if they were used to more luxurious accommodations, you didn’t want them to feel uncomfortable in your home. These were Rafe’s best friends, after all, you had to remind them that you could hang with the best of them even if you lacked the money they had. 

Even though you had been with Rafe going on 3 years now, you worried you weren’t good enough for him. So you always went the extra mile to impress the people in his life. Even though you didn’t have to. Rafe loved you for you, and you found each other at the right time. You saved Rafe from his downfall of addiction. Taking him in when his father kicked him out. Saving him from himself and ultimately helping him grow as a person. He uplifted you and motivated you to work towards your dreams that you once believed would amount to nothing. He proved to you that you were worth more than the words of hate that your mother spewed to you daily. He pushed you to achieve the best, and now you are going for your degree in criminal justice. The final push you needed to go for your goal was witnessing Rafe break down when his father was sentenced for murder. That nearly sent the boy over the edge, but you pulled him back, and that was when Rafe knew you were the one. You two were like a puzzle that just clicked, fitting into place so perfectly it was frightening for both of you.

Sighing at the chores in front of you, you decide to tackle the kitchen first, cleaning the dishes while simultaneously getting water everywhere. This is why Rafe was in charge of the dishes. You always seemed to make more of a mess than you planned to. Rafe would always joke that you weren’t meant to be a housewife. After cleaning up the dishes and mopping up the new mess you created on the floor, your first task was done. Before wiping down the counters, you cleaned off and organized your notes and books from the breakfast bar. These were the times you really wished you had a house with its own study, much like Rafe’s childhood home. It was evident with the two of you living together for so many years that you started to run out of space. As you cleaned, things began to feel better, the atmosphere calmer. 

You threw on a pot of coffee so it would be ready for when Rafe woke up, knowing he needed his caffeine before facing the day. Let’s just say if he didn’t get his morning cup, he was the poutiest and grumpiest of bears all day. You giggled to yourself, thinking back to the first time Rafe stayed over with you. You never drank coffee. It wasn’t your beverage of choice, but boy did you quickly invest in a small coffee maker when you saw him without caffeine. He stumbled out of your bedroom, groggy rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and subconsciously raided your cabinets for a mug. The shock on his face when you told him you didn’t drink coffee still makes you chuckle. He whined at you like a child until you took him to the nearest Starbucks. He was cute when he was grumpy, but boy did his childlike manner know how to get under your skin. This boy was no morning person.

Out in the living room, you started to gather up the throw blankets and folded them neatly, placing them inside the ottoman next to the futon. Sighing, you knew you had to attack the mountain of laundry next. You gathered the near toppling hamper and dragged it to the door so it would be ready to run down to the laundromat, but you couldn’t leave the excess pile on the floor. You grabbed an empty basket and started throwing clothes into it. A mix of sweatshirts, pants, polos, and crop tops quickly filled the small wicker basket The remaining items left behind are a pair of your jean shorts followed by a pair of Rafe’s khakis.

You picked up Rafe’s tan khaki shorts, and they feel heavier than normal. You dig your hand into his pockets and pull out the spare apartment keys that hung on a lanyard. Setting them on the table, you notice a torn piece of paper had slipped to the floor. You pick it up and see a number scribbled out on it. That was odd.

Why did Rafe have a random number in his shorts? Why didn’t he just keep it on his phone if he needed it? Who’s number was this? Was he using again? Your head spiraled, and panic set it. There was no way he’d hurt you, right? Not after everything you’ve two have been through. He loved you, right? You loved him. 

You knew better than to panic, but those three little words swallowed your heart when you thought of Rafe, and if there was any chance, he didn’t feel the same you had to know. Against your better judgment, you pull your phone off the charger and start to dial the number. Hesitating before pressing send.

Ring

Ring

Ring

Click...

“Hello?”

You gulp at the sound of a sickeningly sweet voice that answered the phone.

“Uhm yeah hi, sorry, but w-who is this?”

“This is Stacey, who is this?” The sweet voice sounded just as confused as your thoughts were.

“I found this number in my b-“ you pause before finishing your sentence. Instead, opting for asking what you need to know.

“Do you know Rafe Cameron?” You blurt out the string of words connected by one fast breath.

“Oh! Rafe! Yes, of course, I know him. He’s such a cutie!” The voice rang out with a giggle.

“We spent some wild times together back in the day, but anyways I never caught your name or why you’re calling actually.” She spoke a hazed tone to her voice.

The line was silent. You didn’t know what to say or think anymore. Only one thought rang in your head. Rafe was cheating on you.

Before Stacey could speak again, you hung up the phone. A mix of hurt and angry tears slipping from your sockets. You couldn’t believe he did this. All the times he told you you were his only one had all been lies. Nothing made sense, and throwing 3 years of a relationship down the drain hurt more than you could have ever imagined.

You loved this boy with all your heart, and he shattered yours. Your emotions took over as if you were on autopilot. You watched your actions unfold from within. You picked up the basket of clothes and stormed into the bedroom. The doorknob hit the wall startling the sleeping boy, but before he could realize what was going on, you dumped the clothes onto him in a huff.

“Did ya lose something, babe?” You seethe through your teeth.

The groggy boy wiping sleep from his eyes stutters out, barely coherent words.

“Wh-What? What’s going on? Baby, are you okay?”

You scoff at Rafe, “Am I okay? Ha! I’d be a lot better if I had never found this fall out of your pocket this morning, asshole.”

You ball up and chuck the torn paper at Rafe, who looks from your beet-red face back to the paper. Eyes going wide at your discovery.

“You’re such an asshole, you know that? I can’t believe after everything you’d stoop so low Rafe Cameron.”

“I really fucking thought you’d changed, that you weren’t some arrogant prick who begged the world to praise the ground you walked on, but I guess I was wrong. Can take the boy from the Kooks but can’t take the Kook out of the boy.” You spat your words out.

“N-no baby, you don’t understand hold on just let me explain!”

“Explain what? That you cheated on me with some bitch named Stacey? That you held my heart in your hand and knowingly crushed it just to get your rocks off? Pathetic Rafe truly and utterly pathetic!”

Rafe was visibly upset, looking at you through glassy eyes. He didn’t want you to be hurt. That’s the last thing he wanted, but there was no way you’d listen to him that this was all just a big misunderstanding.

“Baby doll, please just take a few breaths. This is not what you think.” He sweeps his arms up and pulls your hands into his. You sit on the edge of the bed, avoiding his gaze.

“I swear to you I would never in my life do anything to hurt you. Babe, how could I? I love you more than anyone on this godforsaken planet.”

You looked over to Rafe, the anger you held, turning to pure sadness. You didn’t know what to think, so all you could do was listen. 

He rubbed circles with his thumbs on the backs of your hands. Holding you tight. “You’re my person, baby doll. My only person. You came into my life when I was so lost. You picked me up when my father kicked me out. You got me to get clean and was with me through all the relapsing and withdrawals. You never left my side. Always faithful. I would never dream of breaking your heart when you’re the one who found mine.” 

You sigh a shaky breath and look into your beautiful boyfriend's eyes, still just as lost, but you knew what he said was real. The warmth in your heart grew once more. Leaning into his touch, you speak with a sheepish tone.

“If this is a misunderstanding, then tell me the honest truth, Rafe. Who is Stacey, and why did you have her number?”

Rafe cups your face with his hands and looks you straight in the eyes.

“Y/N, I love you, okay?” 

He waits a minute, and getting no response from you, he continues. 

“Stacey is one of Sarah’s old friends from the Banks. We hung out a bit back in the day, but that was years ago. She was a big partier and a bit of an enabler. We would both do lines together and raise a bit of hell, but honestly, that's all our friendship was.”

“Okay... why are you talking to her now?”

“Well, baby, Sarah gave me her number because Stacey runs a well known...  uh, business.” The hesitation in your boy's voice makes you wince. Was he lying again?

“And what kind of business are we talking about? Rafe, you told me you’d be honest. I-I can’t take the lying, please just be straight with me here.”

Rafe sighed as he was about to come clean, but luck was on his side. You hear the rough knock knock knock come from the front of the apartment. Your guests were here. You knew this was his escape plan now, hoping you wouldn’t bring anything up in front of his friends. Usually, he’d be right, but this time you weren’t letting him off the hook. Not with how hurt you were feeling.

Rafe and you both stepped towards the door, opening it to see two smiling faces. Topper and Kelce looked strangely eager.

“My boys! You couldn’t have come at a better time!” The shirtless and sweat-panted boy spoke ushering his friends in.

They exchanged hugs and a few quick whispers as you stood back arms crossed.

“So, do you two know about Stacey?” The words fall out of your mouth.

They look at her and back to Rafe, concern in their eyes.

“Uhh, I mean, we know Stacey from back in the day,” Kelce spoke openly.

“Yeah she was pretty cool, I wonder what she’s doing nowadays. Don’t see her around the Banks anymore, really.” Topper adds.

“Oh, I’ll tell you what she’s been up to. Her and Rafe have been talking ain’t that right handsome?”

Rafe sighs, eyeing the boys. Before he could speak again, you spoke up.

“So to continue our conversation, Rafe, what business is Stacey in, and why you have any interest in it?” 

The two boys are wide-eyed. “Y/N really, there is something you're missing here.”

“Yeah, a real misunderstanding!”

“Oh, not you guys too! I can’t believe this. Why don’t you see what’s happened is wrong?”

“Baby doll, can I just say one more thing before you make up your mind in what has happened?”

“Fine... this better be good, Cameron.”

Rafe quickly turns to his boys, huddled up like they were having a meeting. Mumbles exchanged. Through the hushed tones, you managed to catch Topper asking Rafe if he was sure this was the right time and him replying he had no choice he couldn’t lose you.

Rafe turns around and looks you in the eyes, his hand hidden behind his back.

“Y/N, you mean the absolute world to me. You are my everything. You balance me in ways I never knew possible, and every day I wake up, I realize I love you more and more. I’ve grown so much with you in my life, and I wouldn’t beg for it to change. I want our lives to continue to keep growing together. I want our adventures to bring us to crazy places. I want to wake up every day with no doubt in my mind that you are truly and perfectly my girl. Forever. So please listen to me when I say, everything you are feeling right now is so incredibly false. I would never do anything to intentionally harm you. I love you so damn much Y/N, and that’s why I need to know...”

There is a pause as Rafe swiftly drops to his knee. Your mouth hangs open in complete shock. You are stunned at the sight in front of you as he brings his arm out front and opens up a small black velvet box. Inside, a dainty silver band holds a shining crystal clear diamond. Topper and Kelce beam behind the boy kneeling anxious for the next words that fall from his lips.

“Will you marry me?” Rafe’s eyes glass over once more, but not from hurt like earlier but with pure and resounding love for the girl in front of him.

Tears begin to slip from your eyes. You can’t believe you ever thought Rafe would take away all you have built together in the last three years. You felt the guilt in your stomach whirl. Unsure if you can accept the love and admiration coming from the boy you love knelt in front of you.

“Rafe... I am so... so incredibly sorry.” You sob out hands covering your face.

Rafe is up in seconds encasing you in his arms, laying a kiss on your hairline.

“Shh baby doll, it’s okay, I promise. I’m here. It’s okay, love. Don’t be sorry. I know it looked suspicious. I just wanted to surprise you.”

“I-I still don’t understand.”

Rafe chuckles a bit before explaining.

“My love, Stacey is an old friend from Outer Banks. She and Sarah are still pretty tight. And she happens to be in the business of custom jewelry... she makes some of the best work on the east coast.”

Realization dawns on you once more at how terribly you read the situation.

“I was in contact with her cause I wanted to make my girl a custom ring that was one of a kind, just for you and no one else. That’s part of the reason the boys came up. So they could deliver the ring to me.”

“I can’t believe I was so worked up, oh my god baby. I’m so sorry I never wanted to be the jealous girl, but I was just so, so heartbroken at the thought of losing you... I can’t lose you, babe.”

You stand silently inhaling the scent of the love of your life who you screamed at for trying to surprise you with the best gift you’ve ever received.

“So... does that mean she said yes or?” Topper and Kelce chuckle trying to defuse the awkward tension in the room.

You erupt into laughter, and so does Rafe. You wrap your hands around his neck, pulling his lips down to yours.

“Forever and always, baby... yes, I’ll marry you.” At that moment, you encompass him in a deep kiss, not caring you had company in the room. You were hungry for his love and embrace more than ever before.

You couldn’t wait to live the rest of your life with Rafe, and who knew what the future held for you both. One thing was for sure you would tackle it together face on because nothing mattered to you more than the bliss you felt for your one true love.

[nsheetee]

Can I request a part 2 of the idol!Jisung x idol!reader please 🥺👉👈

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 || Final

Summary: In which you and Jisung are forced to spend time away to save your images, and your group members sneak him into your dorm for one night to cure your gloomy mood

warnings/details: slight angst to fluff, some suggestive kissing at the end

to say the least, you got yelled at

by your members, your managers, even your mom gave you a call

but you’re aware that you’re not alone in this

because jisung also got yelled at

by his 20 other members AND managers AND his mom, too

the pictures taken of you two spread around the world by the next morning, and fans from everywhere were demanding explanations 

not that they were clueless as to what picture of you and jisung kissing mean

everyone just wanted an official announcement

and that was something both of your companies were not willing to give just yet

and you think it’s unfair

it made you mad that you couldn’t just make your relationship a fact when so many people have already assumed what is correct

you and jisung are dating, and not even your companies can keep it from the world

but

they can keep you and jisung away from each other

“what!” you exclaim when your manager told you the news, “you can’t keep me from seeing him!”

the previous anger bubbling in you came to a full boil 

“you’re right, you can do whatever you want.” your manager tried to explain, “but think about your career. think about jisung’s career. it would be best to let this all die down, and the only way to do that is with some time and distance.”

you sat back down in your chair, dejected and unsure 

now more than ever, you wanted to see jisung

you’re sure he got the same talk from his own manager, as the lack of text messages and calls from him suggests

you both knew you could talk to each other in private

but that would only want to make you see him more, and the same goes for jisung

so you’re simultaneously glad and depressed about the lack of communication with your boyfriend

and just like that, your relationship hit a snitch

a speed bump

and it felt like there was no where else to go

since you’re in the middle of preparing for a comeback, you go about your days as if practice is the only thing you have to live for

your group members tried to support you as much as they could, noticing your gloomy mood

and they did help!

but when it was time for you to unwind for the day, take a shower, and eat some food, your thoughts immediately return to jisung

not pressing his call contact button on your phone every time you felt a pang of loneliness in your chest was one of the hardest things you had to deal with

it came to the point where you just wanted to hear his voice

or to at least even see him, to know that he’s physically okay

you relayed your worries to your group members, and you’re sure that’s where they got the idea to sneak jisung into your dorm and up to your room

you’re minding your own business, lazying around your room with an ice pack on your knee due to a slip and fall you had at practice today, when you hear hurried knocks on the door

“y/n! you better be decent because someone’s coming in!” you hear from the other side of the door, sitting up in your bed at the sound of the door handle turning

in a heartbeat, jisung is thrown into your room, the door slamming shut behind him as your leader yells something about “no funny business, park jisung!” before the room becomes quiet once again

jisung has a pink hello kitty blanket over his head, which is no doubt the way your members got him into the dorm in the first place

he takes it off, unveiling his messy brown hair and the light behind his irises as he looks at you for the first time in weeks

you feel like you could cry

you both make a move to come closer to each other— to embrace each other in some way

but your strained knee makes you stop, wince out loud, and sit back down

jisung smile immediately fades as he drops onto your bed next to you, looking at your knee 

“you’re hurt. why didn’t you tell me that you’re hurt?” he frowns

“I’m not hurt, it’s just a bruise.” you lift up the ice pack to show the blue patch of skin on your knee, “and I didn’t tell you because we couldn’t talk to each other.”

jisung sighs at your words, at the situation you’re in, before pulling off his sweatshirt and shifting to sit next to you with his legs out in front of him

you both stare at your legs, his are longer than yours and his knee hits your good one as he sways it back and forth

“I’m sorry I got us into this mess.” he whispers, his fingers walking to your hand and interlocking your digits together

you glance at the image on your lap, and you know you’re about to cry

“if I was more careful, we wouldn’t need to be doing this. I should’ve fought a bit harder. I should’ve-”

“stop.” you say lightly, laying your cheek on his shoulder, “don’t blame this all on yourself. remember, we’re a couple. that’s two people who share these kinds of responsibilities… together.” 

jisung lets your words sink in, and he feels like he’s floating 

how can you be real?

how can he be lucky enough to say he’s yours and you’re his?

he leans down to try and make eye contact, and you meet him half way when you feel him move

this is all you’ve wanted in the past few weeks, and same with jisung

you two are lucky enough to know some facts:

you’re both young, you have so many years left ahead of you that this one hiccup, this one speed bump is just that

a very small bump in a very long road

so jisung leans forward to connect your lips without any regrets, sighing the moment you turn into him to connect your lips better

he breaks his hand from yours to push your soft hair away from your face and linger his fingers on your chin

jisung missed all of you; your smile and the smell of your hair and how calm and collected you are

but he’s a teenage boy

and in this moment, he definitely missed your lips the most

or maybe he missed the touch of your hands as they wander up his back

or maybe he missed your little reactions to the different ways he would kiss you

jisung isn’t sure, but he doesn’t really care anymore, since you’re now in his arms tonight, and that’s how you’ll be staying

he gently pushes you down into your pillows, carefully moving over you to not disturb your knee

you chuckle at his caution, throwing the useless ice pack somewhere further down the bed and pulling at his shirt for him to come closer

he slides a hand between you and the bed, pressing you into him by your waist and leaving random kisses over your neck and chest, making you laugh quietly at the feeling

you pull his lips back to yours with a light tug of his long hair, and he leans more of his weight onto you while he kisses you deeper this time, letting his heart worry about his actions and his brain go on vacation

one hand finds yours and intertwines your hands together again, breaking from your lips every once in a while to give your knuckles a kiss

his other hand that was holding your waist travels to your hip, down your thigh, hooking your leg around his middle and then traveling back to your waist

man, jisung missed you, so so much

and it shows in the small, desperate whines that leave him and in the way he pushes his lips to yours a bit harder than usual

just as you tighten your leg around him and bring his hips closer to yours, a banging on the door interrupts you

you’re surprised for a second, but when you hear your leader yelling from the other side of the door, your head drops into jisung’s shoulder with a whine

“it’s been pretty quiet in there for a while now! park jisung, I said no funny business!”

[knjoodles]

incomparable | taehyung x reader

pairing: taehyung x reader

genre: angst, fluff

word count: 4.9K

warnings: supposed cheating, struggle with body image, low confidence. (i have struggled with all of these things myself)

summary: with taehyung’s busy schedule, you often wonder why it seems he wants to be everywhere but by your side.

lowercase intended

   you loved taehyung.

  no, you love taehyung. the love you and taehyung shared was something that you’d never experienced before. something unique, something different.

  it had all started when the two of you were in high school, being forced to talk to each other as you were paired together for a social studies project. you were a quiet, reserved student, one who had at most three friends and wasn’t looking to make more. once a social butterfly, the endless bullying you’d suffered in your early teen years, being completely excluded from your entire grade, made you cling to those who didn’t succumb to the rumors. to this day, you weren’t quite sure why you were targeted. what you were sure about, though, was the bitterness of the people who hurt you, who went as far as to blackmail old friends to end their friendship with you. you learned to trust few, but cherish them the most. your warm and welcoming personality turned cold to those you didn’t know, not fully letting them in until the still scarred, younger version of you was assured they wouldn’t betray you. you didn’t lose the happy-go-lucky (y/n) you always were, she’s just hidden away. like an exclusive, vip perk for those you’d trust with your life.

  taehyung was like you, minus the traumatizing bullying. he was full of energy, a ball of sunshine who would never be seen with anything less than a smile. both of your respective friends found it amusing how such different people just happened to be paired together, and you were left as dumbfounded as the rest. it’s not that you found taehyung annoying, no. he was just very loud.

  it started with the two of you working at the library, taehyung lugging a large board across the isles to a large community table. he waved at you giddily, trifold board bouncing against the library’s carpeting as he dashed towards you, footsteps loudly hitting the floor. waddling towards you, panting lightly, he greeted you, slumping in the seat in front of you. you were annoyed. you couldn’t believe this was what you had to work with.

  the project? report on a european country and its state in the 18th century. before you could even finish your question on what he wanted to report on, taehyung slammed his large hands onto the hardwood table, exclaiming that he wanted to do portugal. with his excited form dangerously rocking back and forth on his chair, the two of you began work, reporting on 18th-century portugal.

  by the second or third time you’d met up, he wasn’t that bad anymore. the two of you had conjured a few inside jokes and you looked forward to your meetings with him, as it had become a practice for the two of you to talk about what struggles plagued your teenage lives while your parents rang your phones, trying to figure out where the hell you where and why you weren’t home by now. it was funny to you and taehyung. things were good.

  fast forward to senior year, where taehyung had been usurped into your friend group, all five of you marching off to places where you shouldn’t be at ungodly hours. that was the dream of being eighteen yet still a child, the amount much freedom that you could savor, but only for a short time. as your friends all sat on the roof of your high school at midnight, you remember glancing at taehyung, wrapped in his jacket underneath your shawl due to the cold weather. he was different from when you’d first met him; his face was maturing, and he had a handsome glow to him. his raven hair was highlighted by the pale moon, a silver lining shining against his locks. as he gazed unto the bright city before him, you noticed his flawless facial features: eyes, round and excited, skin, smooth and without fault, nose, tall and attractive, and lips, plump and seemingly carved into perfection.

  for the first time in your life, your stomach felt like a jumbled mess sitting next to him. your breath quickened and you wanted to hide, feeling the sudden urge to make sure you looked amazing every time he looked at you.

  taehyung was popular with the girls and the boys, as expected. as much as you hated it, you couldn’t help but feel insignificant next to taehyung. classmates of all ages would swarm and gawk at him, staring at his practically god-sculpted visuals and kind soul. taehyung was perfect, and everybody knew it. it hurt you, sometimes. knowing that even though you were close friends, he may think of you as a sister, not a lover. there were hundreds of people in your school alone that would be a better match for taehyung than you. the self-destructive language bubbled inside of you every time you saw him laughing with someone else, eyes full of joy.

  you broke down in tears in front of him in his room. he was clueless as to your feelings for him, but seeing you sobbing mercilessly ripped his heart into little pieces. you cried about how you never felt like you were enough, how you just wanted one person to look at you the way you look at them, how you knew they were out of your league but you still wanted to be with them. hand rubbing your back comfortingly, taehyung assured that anyone who didn’t want to be with you was stupid, and the guy who you liked was an asshole. you laughed at his comment, and he chuckled with you, thinking he made you laugh in a time of need. he did, but not for the reason he thought.

   it’s the early-middle of senior year. the last of college apps had been sent out, but taehyung was pursuing something you thought to be incredulous. he burst into your room as you edited a project essay, startling you. his hyper aura transferred to you as he beamed that he’d been accepted as a trainee to bighit entertainment, a small, yet promising company. jumping up and down in unison, you hugged him tightly, wanting to show just how proud of him you were. he deserved it, he worked hard. you’d been accepted to a large university in seoul, essentially spelling out that you and taehyung would be moving to seoul to pursue your careers. this was when your heart felt as tense as ever, knowing that as a trainee, taehyung would be restricted from doing almost anything. and, when he becomes an idol, he’d be restricted from literally everything. 

  it was a normal day, your tired mind barely staying awake due to your midnight rendezvous with your friends. what was abnormal, though, was taehyung’s intentional avoidance of you. every time you approached him, he’d grow silent and slip away. every time you looked at him, knowing fully that he was boring holes into the side of your head, he’d dart his eyes, staring at the floor. it left you perplexed and slightly discouraged. the sudden lack in interest towards you rubbed you the wrong way: what could you have possibly done to drive him away this much? as you sat in silence against the brick wall, drumming your pencil against your leg, scouring through your mind for any reason for his actions, taehyung put his hand on your shoulder tenderly. the sudden touch made you simultaneously drop your pencil and look up, somewhat confused that taehyung just appeared after seemingly wanting to disappear the entire day. taehyung asked to talk. 

  he pulled you to the back of your school where it was quiet and crisp from the cold, winter air. as taehyung stood silent in front of you, wringing his hands nervously, you prepared for the worst. thousands of tragedies flew through your mind, not knowing what exactly to expect, but his body language spoke for itself. staring into your eyes deeply, he sputtered a confession of attraction, blurting how he wanted to go on a date with you. 

  how that night, so long ago, he, too, felt something different.

  the two of you had become one. 

  after graduation, that’s how the two of you lived your lives; taehyung, in and out of his busy schedule as an idol, and you, studying endlessly to pursue your medical career. taehyung had warned you that once he debuted, he’d have to leave your shared apartment and move into dorms with his friends turned co-members. you remember how this conversation went down: he talked to you as you faced him in bed, your hand resting on his clothed chest. you responded by kissing his forehead lovingly, reassuring that it’d be okay, that nothing would be wrong.

  of course, you’d said that with the thought taehyung wouldn’t become a worldwide sensation, that his face wouldn’t be all over twitter, instagram, and almost every billboard in sight. taehyung’s schedule consumed him and, as a result, your relationship as well. his appearances at your apartment became shorter and shorter, and everything felt lost. no hugs, no kisses, no dates, no nights over, no sex, no him. no nothing. it was you, in your apartment, by yourself, wishing that taehyung would unlock the door and pull you into his arms.

  his international trips hurt, too. it’s not that you didn’t trust him — no, you trust him more than anything — it was the fear which would corrode you in high school reemerging in the back of your mind. that dark whisper, moaning that everything was not okay. that taehyung knew you weren’t there, knew you wouldn’t know. what would stop him? his manager, and risk a scandal that could wreck his career? his members, who knew that if he fell, so would the entire group? no, they would never. you have no one on your side but you.

  you didn’t want to feel uneasy at the slightest thought of leaving your side, but being alone causes your deepest, darkest fears to keep you company. before taking a shower you’d stand in front of the bathroom mirror, nude, and unconsciously point out all the flaws you see in yourself. how, even with your feet apart, your legs only seemed to gain fat. how your waist was never as tiny as the women who would serenade thousands of people in sold-out concerts. how, regardless of all the good pictures you’ve snapped of yourself, you would never be pretty enough to stand confidently next to taehyung. 

  hiding the relationship was what bighit felt to be the best move. you knew it was just to protect taehyung from getting swarmed and harassed even more, but a small part of you couldn’t help but feel that it was your fault. your fault that you weren’t good enough for bighit to announce you as taehyung’s girlfriend. not thin enough for netizens to accept you as worthy of dating the kim taehyung. not smart enough, not pale enough, not attractive enough to be called his. you were afraid that bighit found you to be an embarrassment. how dare you crack the perfect image of bighit; how dare you.

  taehyung had returned from day four of their seoul concerts, which they had scheduled to end their tour, not kick it off. to the surprise of both you and his members, he’d gone straight to your apartment, falling into your arms exhaustedly. as he unhooked himself from your smaller frame, you looked up at him, quietly scrutinizing his face. he looked tired. his eyes no longer had the same glow. they were darkened and blinking slowly. he was tired. 

  at night, he clung to your body, wrapping his larger form around you. his leg rested, hooked on yours, his arms holding you as he snored softly behind your ear. you almost felt horrible. it was as if all his pain, all his sleepless nights, all his exhaustion was reflecting onto you. it was so bad that you felt it, too.

  they had let the members sleep in for once. taehyung, chest rising and falling rhythmically, was still in deep sleep at ten in the morning as you slipped out of his arms, getting out of bed. as you roll your neck, stretching your body, taehyung’s charging phone received a notification, grabbing your attention. still half asleep, you waddled towards it, reading that taehyung was expected to be at rehearsal in two hours. you groaned at the thought of waking him up after he’d just gotten some sleep, but you’d rather have him cranky for twenty minutes than stressed out that he’s late to practice shuffling towards his sleeping figure in bed, you shook his arm lightly, earning a hum and eventually the opening of eyes from your boyfriend. “already?” he croaked, pushing his unkempt hair out of his face to squint at the clock. 10:10 a.m. he slumped back into bed, groaning loudly into his pillow. he was as reluctant as you were. 

  it was their last performance of this tour, the most important one at best. you could see stress seeping through taehyung, his mood serious, his face stone cold and intimidating. you found it scary, yet oddly sexy. he’d invited you to stay backstage for the last concert, as afterward, the entire crew would go for dinner, and he wanted to spend this important night with you. his warm words suppressed the negative thoughts that clouded your mind for a moment. 

  you knew they’d come back. they always come back. 

  all members except for jungkook were backstage, either fanning themselves, changing, or renewing makeup. jungkook was on for his solo, the screams of the audience muting any conversation from backstage. you slouched on a leather couch, rolling the ball of your foot against the floor in boredom. taehyung suddenly emerged from behind a curtain with four women following close behind, his body clad in a handsome suit, perfectly defining his form, complimenting his body in every which way. he looked breathtaking, which was something you couldn’t say for yourself.

  the poltergeist which haunted your mind at the darkest hour began to emerge yet again, practically tearing your confidence down as taehyung stood tall, waiting for his stylists and makeup artists to finish their work. one woman seemed to lead all of them as she pushed them back, scolding the rest of her team as they had gotten too close.

  you only caught a glimpse of her, but it had hit you that she was essentially all you strived to be, and everything the public would expect of taehyung’s partner. her legs were long and slim, creating a perfect height between her and your boyfriend. her hair shimmering against what stage light entered past the curtain, you could see of just how beautiful she was. her eyes were large and round but still dainty and fit her face perfectly, her nose had a natural, flawless bridge, and her lips were round and complimented her features to the tee. face naturally shaped with a perfect jawline and body curvier than you could ever expect yourself to be, you felt as though you should pull away.

  where could you even go at this time? trying to find an exit to the venue, your eyes kept traveling back to taehyung and his makeup artist, who were giggling away at a joke one of them made. you despised the growing lump in your throat, knowing you had no right to be mad: you trust taehyung, and he trusts you. he’d never do anything to hurt you. 

  well, if that was the case, then why were they so close?

  you glared at the pair chuckling in unison, his makeup artist whispering a phrase as she cupped his cheek in her left hand, right hand redoing his foundation. taehyung laughed breathily at whatever she had mumbled, looking at her as if she meant the world to him. you felt that lump growing larger and larger by the second. you told yourself you wouldn’t cry, that you wouldn’t make it about yourself when it was taehyung’s time to shine, but it was hard. you were cracking.

  as an assistant swiftly switched the makeup palettes the artist was using, she bent down and exposed taehyungs chest and collarbone, re-lining black veins that were supposed to resemble a spider bite from maze runner. taehyung was now scrolling on his phone, completely oblivious to the hell you were experiencing only a few ten feet away. her hand glided down taehyung’s chest, stopping in the middle, near his solar-plexus. seeing her so close to your boyfriend who was now open chested in the middle of a cold room which already would tense his muscles, not to mention having a woman drag her hand down made the pit in your stomach grow more hollow by the second. you tried to swallow whatever thoughts plagued your mind; you knew you were probably a joke in bed compared to her. she would be so much better for him.

  you wanted to look away from the two of them acting so intimate as if she was the one who’s been by taehyung’s side since he was eighteen. that was you, it was you who sat with him and comforted him, it was you who sat alone for hours in restaurants, waiting for him to show up, it was you who could only see the remnants of taehyung’s presence from the night before, as he’d arrive and leave while you were asleep. it was you that missed his touch, his energy, his love. or was it?

  as jungkook’s stage came to a close, the audience cheering louder than ever before, the rest of the group prepared to perform ‘on’ as one, all six of them standing on a platform that would raise them into the final stage. relieved that taehyung was finally leaving her side, your delight was soon met with upset as when he climbed onto the platform, she adjusted his suit and laced her fingers with his, squeezing his hand tightly and wishing him luck. 

  this was your breaking point. you slipped out of the backstage rooms and into the venue’s hallways, dropping against the wall to catch your breath. tears rolling down your cheeks slowly, you swallowed yet again, the lump in your throat heavy and persistent. you stood in the dimly lit hallway alone, hand against the wall, trying to calm yourself down. it was nothing, you thought, trying to reason with yourself. you’re making this about you again.

  but wasn’t your relationship with taehyung partially about you? two conflicting sides fogged your mind, clouding your judgment. you had no clue as to what to do. you felt helpless, and, most dreadfully, alone. you were alone. no one with you, no one in the vicinity. it was you, and your dark thoughts. it wasn’t any different from the other times when taehyung was absent, but this was different. it was as if your fears were proven true. you felt as though there wasn’t much hope.

  after collecting yourself, you waited patiently until the end of the concert, which reached an official close around midnight. watching taehyung thank his concert staff, shaking their hands confidently and thanking them endlessly, you collected his things as well of yours, awaiting his presence next to you. to your surprise, two strong arms wrapped around your waist, a chin resting on your shoulder. “did you enjoy the show?” taehyung hummed, voice groggy from performing for hours on end.

  “mhm,” you replied, placing your phone laying on a table back into your backpack, zipping it tightly. “you did great.” you knew that you sounded out of touch; hell, even you could hear it.

  “thank you, baby,” he pecked your neck softly, something that always sends butterflies straight to your stomach. “we’re going to dinner to celebrate ‘cause, you know… end of the tour!” he beamed, pushing his cheek against yours. “do you want to come with us, or do you want to go home? it’s okay if you don’t want to come, i understand, but i really, really want to spend tonight with you and everyone else i love.”

  you looked at him tiredly. two different narratives were running in your mind: one, who wanted to support taehyung in all he does, and another, who believed you didn’t belong here, who believed no one wanted you here. with taehyung’s reassurance that at least he wanted you around, you nodded, grasping his hand. “okay, i’ll come.” you smiled weakly, kissing his temple. the amount of emotional torment that had been cycling endlessly in your mind had taken a toll on you, the way taehyung’s heavy schedule took a toll on him. the two of you slipped into a large, black ford, your mask and coat disguising you as a staff member.

  their afterparty was a dinner, the whole restaurant rented out for bangtan and the bighit staff. seated next to taehyung, you found his energetic personality to never falter, as his cheerful tone mirrored that off this afternoon. tables were connected into one large strip, the entire group chiming together with laughter and warm energy. laughter and warm energy towards everyone but you.

  taehyung knows you as someone who doesn’t talk too much in large groups; you tend to talk to a couple of people near you and don’t really venture far, not being antisocial or shy, but willingly secluded. you attempted to chime in many times to conversation, only for it to be met with awkward glances from the staff and your comments not even being registered into the table chat. your happy remarks grew quieter and quieter until you found yourself saying nothing, just picking at the food in front of you and eating quietly, realizing that everyone had someone to talk to but you.

  the most difficult thing, though, was the fact your boyfriend was sitting next to you, babbling away with his makeup artists, stylists, and manager. you’d been completely rejected from the conversation, thrown out like trash, and he hadn’t noticed. his makeup artist talked with him contentedly, seductively stirring her drink with its straw. you focused on chewing on your practically untouched, trying not to think about the chemistry that was brewing in front of you. you physically felt your heartbreak, tears brimming your eyes once again. breathing deeply, you tried to mask your pain, slouching in your chair and pulling back so that your face couldn’t be seen. taehyung’s loud burst of laughter made you realize that he hadn’t even registered your exclusion. 

  to your surprise, taehyung chose to accompany you home instead of leaving for his apartment. the car ride quiet, you sat away from taehyung, knees facing the door instead of forwards. you glanced into the midnight streets of seoul, the entire city lit up with commercial buildings, hotels, and restaurants peppering the black night. you heard taehyung shift in his leather seat, the material squeaking against his hands trying to muffle the sound. the car ride home was awkward and uncomfortable, two things you’ve never felt before when with taehyung. you’d feel happiness, excitement, your heart bursting, love dripping from you like honey. this? this was not you, and this was not him. 

  from getting out of the car, you immediately dropped your things onto the couch and beelined straight for your bedroom, wanting to get out of the clothing you’d been wearing in a hot, humid dining room for the past two hours. taehyung followed, disappearing into the bathroom to wash his face. standing in just your underwear, you caught sight of your leg on your wall mirror. shuffling fully into view, you stared at your half-nude body, shuddering at the state of it. the stress of work and your relationship had begun to take a toll on you; you noticed you’d gained some weight and that your body looked just as exhausted as you. you swiftly turned away from the mirror, not wanting to let any more dark thoughts penetrate your mind. the night had been bad enough already, why should you make it worse for yourself?

  tumbling into bed, wearing nothing but an old, large shirt of taehyung’s and your panties, you pulled the covers closer to your body, laying on your right side. you felt the mattress shift as taehyung scoot next to you, his chest hitting your back, his leg habitually enveloping yours, arms wrapping around your waist. he began to nip softly at your neck, ear, and cheek, “hey,” he murmured in between peppering you with kisses, “are you okay? you didn’t say much tonight.” 

  you lay a hand on his arms, wrapping tighter around your waist, pulling you closer to his body, and loosened them, swallowing. “i’m okay.”

  “i know that whenever you dodge my questions by saying you’re okay, you’re most definitely not okay,” he mumbled in your ear. pulling your shoulders towards him so you were facing him, he tucked the hair covering your face aside. “what’s going on, (y/n)? what happened? you can tell me,”

  looking up into his concerned, round eyes, tears involuntarily began streaming down your face, wetting the pillow next to you. taehyung pulled you closer to his chest, letting the shirt he was wearing soak your tears. he did this to make you feel protected, but also hide your face from view, knowing that he can’t help but cry whenever he sees you cry first. ‘hey, what’s happening?” he whispered tenderly, caressing your head in his hand, holding you tightly. “please, please don’t cry, we’ll figure it out! tell me what’s wrong, baby,”

  “i don’t feel like i’m enough for you,” you sighed, your voiced stifled by the fabric of his shirt.

  “baby, i can’t hear you.” he rubbed your back, kissing your forehead. 

  half dejected, half angry, you howled, “i’m not enough for you!” taehyung’s sorrowful look morphed into an astonished one, eyes darting all over your face, mouth open, trying to say something, anything. “i… i just… i see you all the time with beautiful women who are the fucking definition of the beauty standard here, beautiful faces, bodies, personalities, and i just sit there and wonder what the fuck do i have that keeps you by my side?! whenever you leave for tours, i’m mortified that you’ll find someone better than me and replace me, and even worse, with all your disappearances, i’ve been starting to think that’s already happened! you look at that fucking stylist, who i have no right to be mad at, like she’s the apple of your eye! like she’s your girlfriend, like she’s the one whose been with you since day zero! my worst fear is that you could replace me at any given moment when you’re one of the only things that make me happy right now!” you sobbed, putting your head down to avoid taehyung’s gaze. “i’m not anything like the people here. it just hurts so much to see you spend more time away from me. i’m scared, taehyung, i’m so, so scared,” you hastily wiped your tears with the back of your hand, the loud gasps and hiccups from crying still audible, even when you tried to mute them.

 “(y/n), i… i didn’t know, i’m so sorry,” taehyung was at a loss for words, seeing you, his one true love, expose how demolished you were by all of the unspoken torment. his heart began to split in two, tears forming against the corners of his eyes. “look at me,” he whimpered, prompting you to look up at his reddened face, adam’s apple bobbing. “i didn’t know you were hurting this much… but, baby, really? i’ve loved you for nearly eight years at this point, do you think i’d leave you for some janky, flirtatious lady i’ve known for less than a year? you are more than enough for me: you listen to me when i’m hurting, you comfort me when i’m sad, you make me so, so fucking happy every single day, not to mention, are amazing in bed… i could go on. you’re the smartest, most talented, most fierce woman i’ve ever met in my entire life. you look doubt right in the eye and give it the finger all the time. why not this? you mean the world to me, and i’m sorry you ever even thought i’d cheat on you or lose my love for you. i love you more and more every single day. i love your mind, i love your beauty, i love your personality, but most importantly, i love you. i’m not lying when i call you the love of my life.”

  you smiled at your boyfriend laying in front of you, a couple tears falling from his eyes and onto the pillow, disappearing into the fabric. “you’re right, i’m sorry—”

  “nuh-uh,” he stopped you, putting a finger to your lips, shaking his head. “you didn’t do anything wrong. i’m sorry that i haven’t been giving you the attention you deserve, alright? i love you more than anything in the world. i swear, this will never, ever happen again.”

  “promise?” you moved closer to him, head tucked under his neck. taehyung tilt your chin upwards and kissed you compassionately, pulling away to look at you and take in your beauty.

  “i promise.”

[chiefnooniensingh]

it’s in our blood, in our veins (a The Old Guard one-shot)

Rating: G Pairings: JoexNicky and Joe&Booker Characters: Joe, Booker, Nicky, Nile Summary: Over the shared worry for one of their own, Booker and Joe hash it out, a year after the Merrick debacle. A/n: I need this family back together so I fucking wrote it. Also on: ao3

This had never happened before, to any of them. The team was huddled in a hospital waiting room, looking around nervously, aware of the cameras that were hung up everywhere, but they’d be damned if they were leaving. Nile was the only one who looked remotely put together, her immortality still so new that she hasn’t forgotten what it was like to be wounded, in need of professional care.

Nicky was handling it the worst of them all. He was pacing through the waiting room, continually running his hands through his hair as he muttered about what if’s and we should have’s. For once, Joe was unable to get him to calm down. Because Andy was in the hospital, gravely injured and fighting for her increasingly shortening life, and there was nothing any of them could do.

Joe knew his love and Andy had an incredibly special relationship, not unlike brother and sister. She and Nicky were the most attuned to each other of all, barring Joe himself. In battle, Andy and Nicky were the level-headed strategists (until it became time to bring hellfire), while Joe and Booker had always been the rash, impulsive ones. Andy and Nicky shared a love for baklava unparalleled even by Joe’s own. When Joe and Booker would split off to watch a game, Andy and Nicky would sit together, pouring over books, laughing over tv shows they would watch together, or sparring.

Joe was worried as hell but seeing his love so distraught brought him even more pain than his worry did. He felt absolutely useless, unable to soothe his Nicky and unable to heal Andy. Joe kept flexing his hands, which were itching to do something, anything. “Nicky, please,” he tried once again. “Nicolò, amore mio…”

“It’s Andy,” Nicky croaked, sounding for all the world as if it had been him who got shot in the chest.

Joe stood up and halted Nicky’s frantic pacing by taking hold of his arms. “I know, my heart, I know,” he said, then hugged him close to his chest. “But, sweetheart, you are driving me absolutely insane with your pacing.” He kept his tone just shy of teasing, knowing that Nicky would pick up on the lack of heat behind his words.

Nicky sighed and wrapped his arms around Joe’s frame, burying his nose in his shoulder. “Scusi,” he said softly, “I’m just so worried.”

“So am I, Nicky, so am I,” Joe muttered, then pulled back to kiss his Nicky’s forehead. “It’ll be okay.”

“Yes, it will,” Nile said, from her spot against the wall. She looked worried and anxious but had the most faith in Andy’s chances of survival. “She’s strong, guys. And this hospital is the best at what they do. She’ll pull through, I’m sure of it.” Nicky and Joe smiled at her, but while Joe took his seat again, Nicky still couldn’t stand still, and he went over to the coffee machine to get them more terrible hospital coffee.

Joe looked across from him and felt a surge of emotion as his eyes locked with the man who had brought them here. Booker. It had been nigh on a year since they’d last seen each other, since they’d banished him, but here he was, looking apprehensive and scared and worried. He’d been too late to warn them of the attack but had helped them fight their way out of it. The revelation that Quynh was not only alive and freed from the bottom of the ocean, but also hell-bent on destroying as much of Andy’s life as she possibly could, had shook the entire team. Andy had gotten a glimpse of her during the fight, and in that moment of distraction, had taken a bullet straight to the chest.

And now here they were. Joe and Booker in an intense stare-off while also worried out of their minds for their oldest friend.

A year was nothing to them. Like an hour to mortals. Joe was still pissed off as hell at the man whom he used to call his brother, the man who had betrayed them, had put Nicky in danger. If Joe hadn’t been strapped to a medical bed, he was sure he would’ve ended Booker’s life right there when he first learned of the betrayal. Their exhaustion, both physical and emotional, had prevented him from doing it after they’d reached a safe house. Joe now felt that urge to snap Booker’s goddamn neck again.

“Just say what you want to say, man,” Booker said, breaking Joe from his thoughts. Nile looked up from staring at her knees and Nicky turned sharply, his eyes on Joe. Joe read the warning in his eyes but knew he wouldn’t be able to heed it.

For a moment, Joe said nothing. Then the dam burst. “I am so angry at you, Booker,” he said in a low voice, and Nicky closed his eyes briefly. But Joe focused his attention on Booker instead, who looked miserable as hell. “Why?”

Booker shook his head. “I never meant for it to get so far, I just wanted…”

“You just wanted it to end!” Joe spit, jumping up, too charged to sit down any longer. Booker stayed in his chair and couldn’t meet his eyes. “So you sold us out to a sadistic maniac for the chance of relief, knowing full well how much pain you were going to put us through!”

“You don’t know what it’s like, Joe!” Booker said, and Joe could hear tears threatening in his voice. Joe would feel sorry, but he could still hear Nicky’s pained groans as that woman did her sick experiments on him. “You and Nicky, you always had each other, meanwhile I just had the memories of those who loved me, dead, while I continued to live!”

“But you had us, Booker! We were your family, too! We loved you, too! You threw us away like we were nothing!” Joe yelled.

Booker rose now, too. Apparently Joe had struck a chord. “And what would happen if Nicky were to die right now, huh? Would you stick around?”

It was a thought too horrible to process, and Joe shook his head to clear the image from his brain. The thought of Nicky dying without him… “I wouldn’t betray my family,” he said quietly. At that moment, he felt Nicky come up beside him, squeeze his hand for a second, then moved off to the side. Joe felt a rush of absolute love for this man, who knew Joe had been on the bring of absolutely falling apart and gave him the reassurance that they were both alive.

Booker shook his head, tears now visible in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” Booker said, and it startled Joe. This hadn’t been a conversation heading anywhere near an apology, yet the Frenchman was looking more miserable than ever. “I never meant for any of you to get hurt, I swear. I was so blinded by my grief and pain that I didn’t see…didn’t know…”

“What,” Joe said, almost astonished, “that we love you?”

Booker nodded, tears falling in earnest now, and he fell back in his seat, burying his head in his hands. Nile was about to get up, join him and comfort him, but Nicky put a hand on her shoulder. This was something Booker and Joe had to work through themselves. Joe stared at Booker, mouth agape as the weight of what Booker had just said crashed over him. He hadn’t known… Stumbling backwards, Joe’s back hit the wall and he slid down it, still trying to process. “How could I have been so blind…” Joe muttered, and Booker looked up, surprised to see all the anger having drained out of Joe. “All those times you made those self-depreciating jokes, jokes about ‘misery loves company’…I thought you were just joking, but it was real, wasn’t it?” He looked up at Book, his best friend, his brother, who he was now seeing in a completely different light. It was like the last 200 years were being rewritten in his mind. “Book, why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve been there for you…”

Booker shrugged, wiping furiously at his eyes, trying to stem the flow. “I didn’t want to come between you and Nicky, you two were always so happy…”

“So you let us believe you were fine, meanwhile you were just dying a little bit more inside every day?” Joe put his head in his hands and felt tears burning in his own eyes now as well. “How did I miss it, Book? What did I do wrong?”

“What?” Booker said, his head snapping up to look straight into Joe’s eyes. The Frenchman and the Egyptian stared at each other, seeing each other differently, but really seeing each other for the first time. “Joe, you couldn’t have done anything…”

Joe shook his head and jumped up, starting to pace, trying to understand the new host of emotions he was feeling. Anger was there, sure, but it wasn’t directed at Booker anymore. It was directed at himself. “Jesus, I’ve been so blind. I considered you my best friend, my brother, even. What Nicky and Andy have, that’s what I thought you and I had…but now I see that I have been the worst brother you could’ve had. I should’ve seen, I should’ve known!” Joe dropped to his knees in front of Booker, who looked like he was about to either laugh or cry uncontrollably. “Book, I am so sorry. Can you ever forgive me?”

Booker let out a watery laugh. “Me forgive you?”

“I called you my brother, considered myself yours, yet I completely ignored all the signs that you were in pain. I missed every part of it. And somehow I made you belief you couldn’t come to me, couldn’t confide in me, with your pain, your loneliness. I should’ve been the one to be there for you, but instead I was the one who made you think you were alone…that is a crime far worse than yours.” Joe felt the tears spilling over and could feel Nicky restraining himself from coming over and either hugging or punching the pair of them. Nile was staring at them, open-mouthed.

“Can you ever forgive me for betraying you?”

“It is already done,” Joe said, and simultaneously the two men stood up and wrapped each other in a bear hug. Joe felt his anger drain away as the bond the two of them had had, seemed to mend between them. Joe still felt the pang of anger, but he understood now. And pushing Booker away now would only result in more pain for both of them.

“Y’all need some therapy,” Nile said, which broke the silence as Nicky burst into laughter, and even Joe and Booker managed to laugh. “No, seriously, nobody noticing Booker was clinically depressed for 200 years is a problem.”

Joe laughed, but nodded his head as well, because he knew. He knew it was a problem, a problem they needed to fix very soon. Booker released Joe and went over to Nicky. Joe watched, intrigued, as his other half watched with open and kind eyes as Booker stood in front of him. “Nicky, I’ve apologized to Joe, and I feel like I also owe you an apology. What that woman did to you, and Joe…I never thought they would go that far. I am so sorry, and I’ll do whatever it takes to win back your trust.”

Nicky gave him a small smile. “It might take a while to win back all of my trust, but saving our asses today has brought you a lot closer. I just hope in the future you will tell us when you are in pain.”

Booker nodded. “I’ll try.”

“Then I forgive you,” Nicky said, and he wrapped Booker in one of his signature hugs that would solve all the world’s problems, Joe knew, if he could just hug everyone.

“Nile,” Booker continued, but Nile cut across him, “Nah, I don’t need your apology, I need your ass in therapy.” Then she hugged him, too, because she’d never been that angry at him to begin with. They all laughed, and soon they were wrapped in a group hug, Joe and Nicky holding hands on Booker’s back. Joe felt something in him heal that he hadn’t realized was broken. His family was back together.

“Family of Andy Smith?”

They all broke apart hastily as a doctor entered the waiting room, who looked slightly bemused at the touching scene in front of her. She had no idea the amount of pain and anger had been worked through in the past half hour, and Joe smirked slightly, revelling once again in the fact that there was so much information they all held, without anybody knowing it. It gave him a sense of power. “Yes,” Booker said quickly, stepping forward, “that’s us.”

“She’s out of surgery, awake, and asking for you.”

A feeling of absolute relief washed over them all, and they hugged again before following the doctor out of the waiting room. Before they left, Nicky grabbed Joe’s arm and held him back. Joe looked at his love questioningly, but Nicky just pressed his lips to Joe’s in a tender, loving kiss, into which Joe immediately melted. “I’m proud of you,” Nicky said softly, touching his forehead to Joe’s. Joe brushed his nose against Nicky’s and kissed him again, because one kiss was just never enough for him. “Let’s go see Andy.”

Joe nodded, linked his hand with Nicky’s and together they walked to Andy’s room.

[thisonesforfanfic]

Light in the Dark (9/?)

Bucky x Reader

A/N: THIS ONE MIGHT BE +18, please be aware if you shouldn’t/ don’t want to read this sort of thing

Word count: 2.3k

Summary: After following Bucky across the ocean, he ends up confronting you and, as you fear you have been followed, you try to find somewhere safe to talk to him about what happened to you.

The tears were rolling down your face as Bucky held you in place keeping you from looking at him. His touch you lunged for so long was yours, not quite how you expected it, but it was still James, somewhere in there, was the love of your life

"I said What are you doing here?" His hand slowly moved away from your lips, waiting for your response.

You were hesitant. Every single word about to leave your mouth had to be calculated. How much did he remember? Did he even recognize you from before, or just from Hydra? Was he willing to kill you to stay incognito?

"Buck-" You stopped yourself as you felt his grip tighten "Let me see you, please. I won't try anything"

"How do I know it?"

"If I wanted to do something, I wouldn't have let you leave the museum in the first place" He was hesitant to let you lose "I could have had that place locked down as soon as you stepped in James. I haven't gone through all of this to simply turn you in, I only want to help you"

"You can't" he mumbled under his breath as he let you go

As soon as you were loose, you wrapped your arms around him. Even though it was not reciprocated, the hug made you feel like home, something you hadn't experienced fully ever since the morning you said goodbye to him and Steve on the train platform, all those years ago. Bucky's scent filled you in with hope, it made everything a little lighter.

However, after the sweet reminder of how everything once was, the lack of his arms around you, his stiff posture and his angry look pulled you back into the very real and slightly dangerous situation. You took a few steps back, keeping a safe distance between you.

"I am so sorry James" your eyes were filled with tears, as you stared into his blue ones

"You still haven't answered my question Y/N" He was dead serious, but you couldn't hold back the hope and confusion your name on his lips brought.

"I just... wait, how- What do you remember?" you took a step closer but Bucky kept his distance "The exposition mentioned the bar, but my name was never there" his expression was unreadable, glancing down to ground and you tried to find the answer to his question "I... I'd lost you once before, I wasn't going to lose you again"

A comforting silence followed.

Maybe somehow, he knows

About a minute passed, and you didn't hear any response, your eyes jumped up, afraid Bucky had taken advantage and ran, but he was still there. A little less intimidating and much more confused. You clenched your necklace, keeping yourself from running into his arms, and probably being rejected.

"Why?" his hiss hit you like a bullet. The tone was not curious, but threatening, scary. Bucky was angry at you for following him, and you hadn't really thought through the very real possibility of him trying to eliminate you then and there.

"Because I love you, James" He turned away and started walking as soon as the words left your mouth "And I will continue to follow you, I won't let you be alone" you ran to him, leaving just a few inches between you.

"STOP" Still looking forward, Bucky let his voice crack "You are here because of me"

"That doesn't even make any s-" you placed your hand delicately on his shoulder, in the hopes he would turn and face you.

"I've led them to you once, I'm not letting Hydra hurt you again"

"I don't give a shit Barnes, I'm not leaving your side again, I-"

A loud thump nearby interrupted you, putting both on high alert

Shit, was I followed?

This whole time, you were so focused on Bucky, you didn't really remember if you took all the precautions yourself

"Let's get out of here" he whispered, and you nodded, following him into the shadows and slowly out of the docks

---

A few miles later, you managed to sneak into an old building complex, the apartment you got into was nearly empty, a sofa and a broken dinner table were the only things around you. The amount of dust everywhere made it pretty obvious no one had gone in or out in a while, so you could let your guard down, for a few minutes at least. Both of you sat on a couple of wooden boxes the floor, a few feet apart from eachother, and a sharp silence surrounded the atmosphere as Bucky tried to find the words to say, the break of dawn was slowly lightning up the room and you couldn't keep your eyes off him.

How didn't I notice? I took care of so many of his wounds. You felt stupid for not recognizing him, for actually believing what Hydra had fed you and never really trying to find out more about Bucky's fate.

"I'm sorry" you broke the silence. His eyes met yours, confused, your apology seemed pretty out of place "I should have paid more attention, I was just... afraid- of losing you"

Bucky let out a deep, painful breath, looking down at his feet while scratching the back of his neck

"They got to you because of me." you could feel the guilt and pain in his voice "They tortured you because I wasn't strong enough to keep your name to myself"

"What do you mean?" the words of curiosity came out harsher than intended, you moved closer to him, softly placing you hand on his knee. Bucky avoided looking back at you, his eyes glued to the floor, recollecting his blurry memories.

"When they started everything... All I could remember was names. Steve and Y/N. I would carve or write them down every chance I could, I didn't want to forget. Hydra must have tracked you down after seeing your name next to Steve's, then they got to you, it's my fault they tortured you."

He made a long pause; you wouldn't dare make any sounds. You would never blame Bucky for all that bullshit, he was just as much a victim of circumstances as you were.

"I don't want you to get hurt again, I have to stay away, forget you... and you, me" his eyes finally met yours, filled with hurt. He moved his legs, trying to get rid of your hand, but you held it in place, slightly pressing it.

"That logic is just stupid" Your words shot out before you could stop them, surprising yourself a little. It made Bucky quite nervous, and you could see some anger building up by the tension on his shoulders "I mean.... I won't forget you, I- you... you'll only truly hurt me if you leave like this"

"Oh yeah? And what if someone said those words to us? One just kills the other? Don't you think that's a little more painful than being able to live your whole life?" The pain was cracking through his angry words

"I can help you" You cried, the image of him breaking was tearing your heart into a million pieces

"Really? I reckon you have the ability to turn back time?" he laughed sarcastically

"I heal, James" his eyebrows arched along with a chuckle, still not taking you seriously "I healed myself"

"I won't take that risk" he got up to leave but you held his hand, trying to delay the departure "I won't let myself stay and hurt you Y/N, I'm a ticking time bomb, and God knows what's coming after me"

"Give me a chance, James" you stood up and place yourself in between him and the door "Let me at least help you remember" Your hands rested on his chest and the space between you grew thinner and thinner as you leaned in. The only sound in the room was your heartbeat, echoing in your head as you approached Bucky, and you could see every muscle in him tense as you did so. It wasn't stopping you anymore, your moves were slow, and even though Bucky was hesitant, he didn't push you away. "I'm not letting you go again" you whispered as you softly kissed him.

It was as if time turned back when your lips touched his. You were suddenly at the bar, after the first date you had with him, after those three haunting words had been spoken and you caught him off guard with a kiss. And just as it did back then, it took only a second for Bucky to give in. Even though it was still blurry to him, that felt right: your arms loosely wrapped around his neck, just enough to keep him in place, your sweet lips on his, the taste was something so familiar to him and Bucky quickly took control of you.

His metal arm held you tight to him by the waist, and grabbed the back your head with his other hand, your hair getting tangled around his fingers as the kiss grew more intimate and hotter. His tongue explored your neck while you hopelessly tried to catch your breath, your hands made their way to his jeans, ready to set free the bulk you were pressed against. Bucky almost simultaneously took his jacket off and pulled his shirt over his head, then helping you out of your clothes, allowing you to be as close as possible. He lifted you up to place you on top of his clothes on the floor, and you allowed him to kiss every inch of your skin as soft moans left your lips

"God, I missed you, doll" his breathy voice, along with his fingers touching you, was sending shivers down your spine

"Quit teasing, Buck" your eyes were pure lust and he could tell. Bucky's lips were on yours again, but more vicious this time, as he placed himself in you, you moaned loudly as his tongue controlled yours. Barely giving you any time to get used to him, Bucky started thrusting, hard and steady, neither of you could keep quiet, the heavy breathing was mixed with groans, cursing and various moans. It was all too animalistic and quick, the coil in your stomach built way too fast "Fuck, I'm gonna-"

"Let go" You melted at his words, your vision got blurry and the only thing you could feel were Bucky's thrusts getting uneven as he reached his peak, then his body collapsed on top of you after the orgasm.

For a few minutes, neither of you moved, afraid it was all just a dream, and the one in front of you would disappear at the slightest movement. Bucky slowly put himself beside you, admiring your gaze as you let your finger trace softly trace his face

"I missed you, Bucky" He smiled softly at you. It was the first time you fully recognized him, his eyes were finally playful and free of confusion, even if it didn't last long, you knew he was still in there, you could still get your Bucky back.

"I missed you too Y/N" his smiled then faded as he got up, looking around for his jeans. You stood up as well, and watched him, finally noticing all of his scars together. Although you had helped some of them heal, you had never truly payed attention to how many he actually had, especially the one where metal met skin, it was harsh, you couldn't even imagine the pain he had felt.

"I'm sorry" you hugged Bucky as he tried to pull his pants up "I should've known Y/N... I should've helped you out before-" he pulled away, to look at you.

"We shouldn't do this, James" you rolled up the sleeves of his shirt you’d put on "We can't blame ourselves for what those people did to us. All we can do is grow from it"

He kept his distance "I won't allow myself to hurt you even more, Y/N" you couldn't hide the disappointment, it was written all over your face.

"Oh, for fuck's sake" You took off his shirt, tossing it to the side. All your scars, the times you were shot, cut and tortured, were there for him to see "Look at me! Take a good look at all of this, James" Bucky reluctantly stared at your naked body, his frown growing as his eyes travelled from one scar to the next "They hurt me enough. I won't let you do the same" You stood there quiet for a minute, the only thing touching your bare skin was your necklace, taking it in your hands, you continued

"This is the only reason why I kept healing. My mom, my dad, Y/B/N..Steve, You! The day you and Steve told me about his passing, you two became my family. I couldn't just let the memory of you die! I had to get out, for all of you!" The disappointment in you was turning into anger, and your eyes were filling with tears as you reached out to get your jacket and cover up. You let your head down so he couldn't see the pain in your eyes, but it was useless, your voice was already cracking "Don't do this Bucky, please don't give up on me just like that"

And as if he could see your legs were about to give in, Bucky held you in his arms, as close as he possibly could

"I won't, doll, sorry.... I didn't mean to" your head was buried on his chest as he caressed your head "I'm just- afraid to do more bad than good"

"Promise me- you'll at least let me try to help" he nodded as you looked up, pulling him in for a soft kiss, flooded by the salty taste of your tears.

#############

Thanks for reading!

[drethanramslay]

Epilogue: Bloom

Pairing: Aurora x MC (Iris Everette)

Word count: 3.2 K words

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Warning: smut in the first half and I'm not saying anything else

Taglist: @miyakokurono @vampiregirlsblog @agent-breakdance @trappedinfandoms @openheart12 @sekizincimektup @lilyofchoices (let me know if you want to be added or removed from the list)

Songs: Two of us by Louis Tomlinson and Lover by Taylor Swift

Please forgive me for any mistakes

One year later.

The Boston sky seemed like an abstract painting. The sun was setting, and the entire sky was a mix of different hues of pink, purple and blue. There was an occassional singing of an nightingale, otherwise it's pretty quiet.

Almost hauntingly quiet.

Iris stood, basking in the rays of the dying Sun. She slowly bent down and placed the bouquet of forget me nots and a single sunflower near the cold headstone.

"Hey..." She softly spoke, as she made herself comfortable in the ground. After a cold, hard winter, the trees were slowly growing back the green leaves. After months of suffering, they finally bloom in spring, showing that time heals things.

"I know it's been a long time since I spoke to you. It was just hard to come here...makes it so much more real that you are not here in this world.." iris sighed, as she hugged her knees.

"Everything is great. I am not being sarcastic or anything. Seriously everything is so perfect that sometimes it feels like a dream. Ethan has given me a promotion to co-lead the diagnostic team, which I always wanted. I have even started going back to therapy. Because I know that if I didn't fix my mental state, you would haunt me in my dreams." Iris chuckled.

Picking at the grass near her, she spoke quietly. "Everything is perfect but you are not here... I think you would he happy to hear that Grayson is dead now. A month ago he was hanged for murder, assault and battery. I held such a huge party in celebration of it. I know, I know...what a sadistic bitch, but hey I think you can cut me some slack."

Tears welled up her eyes.

God I was hoping I could make it through without crying...

"I miss you so much. Oh! how much I wish that I could hold you one last time... It hurts but I am slowly making my peace with it. It's tough and challenging getting over not having you around but, I know you are in a happier place, playing healer for all the souls entering heaven."

She sat there for a long time, lost in her thoughts, as the sun set. When it started to get dark, she knew she had to make a move.

"Alright, I am going to go... My roommate will kill me if I don't make it in time for dinner." She pressed her fingertips to her lips and pressed it on the cool headstone. A lone tear rolled down her cheek. "I love you...I will never stop loving you."

She stood up, dusted herself and walked towards the exit, where her bike was parked. Clicking her helmet in place she revved the beast and zipped through the streets, towards her apartment.

She climbed up the steps and took her keys out to unlock the door. The moment she unlocked the door, she heard excited footsteps running towards her. She had hardly walked through the threshold when the huge golden retriever jumped on her.

"Hey Milo!! How's my boy doing? Hmm?" She bent down and hugged the dog. He was just a year old. "Who has been a good boy, huh?" She booped his nose and scratched the behind of his ears.

The pup just barked and ran in crazy circles around Iris. Iris let out a short laugh before standing up. "Where is mama, Milo?" She asked as she took her shoes off and hung her coat on the coat rack. Her girlfriend was very particular about these things.

Milo scurried towards the closed bedroom door and pawed the door. "That a boy.” She gave a last scratch behind his ear before entering the room and closing it behind her. She could see the bathroom door ajar and steam wafted out of the thin crack.

Iris stripped to get underwear and headed towards the bathroom.

"Hey baby." The voice called out, from behind the

"Hi." Iris opened the glass door and stepped in. She placed her hands on her waist and turned her around.

"EEE! What the hell Adara?!"

"What? Just saving water by taking a shower with you." She gave a sly smile as her hand reached down and grabbed a handful of her ass.

"You are incorrigible Adara."

"No I am in love with you, Rory. Get your facts straight!!"

Aurora pressed her lips to Iris'. "How are you? How was meeting your mom?" She took the shower gel and put it on the washcloth.

"It was nice... And peaceful. Will you come with me next time? I want you to meet her."

"Anything for you, my love." She lathered the soap and turned her around. Before she put soap on her back, she kissed the deep scar on her back. Iris just smiled into her shoulder.

"So... What do your parents think of me? I really couldn't get a read on them when we met the in NYC last week."

"Well, they definitely love you. My mom talked my ear off of how well behaved you are and loved your fashion sense. My dad went on and on that you were 200 times any man he had met. He was in awe of how you are co-leading one of the most prestigious diagnostics team and that you were perfect for me."

"Wow I am so honoured." Iris spoke as she turned around.

*******************************

Aurora started lathering the soap on her chest. Iris took a sharp intake of air when she felt the texture of the washcloth on her breasts along with the circular motion of Rory's hands. Iris was getting wetter with every movement on her breasts and her clenching stomach. He slow hands finally reached the place where she wanted her the most.

She brushed the sensitive folds and Iris let out a low moan. Aurora continued her slow circular motions, enjoying the way Iris was losing control and was completely at her mercy.

Oh this was gonna be so fun. Aurora thought wickedly.

She continued the torture for a very long time. Iris desperately wanted to climax. "Now, that's clean enough." Aurora said innocently as she moved her hand away. Iris' forest green eyes snapped open.

"Rory..."

Aurora didn't respond as she just gave an innocent smile and reached for the detachable shower head. She switched it on and started washing the suds of her body. She roamed her hand all around, touching everywhere, teasing her.

"Kiss me dammit." Iris said as she surged forward and kissed her, hard. Aurora let out a yelp but kissed back with equal fervour. She pushed Iris against the wall of the huge shower place. She pinned her hand against the wall and slid her thigh between Iris' legs.

"I like you like this. Wet." Rory said cheekily as she moved Iris' hair, so that she could kiss her collarbone.

"Stop fucking around. Fuck me Rory."

"And your wish is granted." Aurora spun her around and pushed her chest against the wall. Holding her hands above her head with one one hand, Aurora let her other hand wander around.

Her lips attached to the side of her neck, sucking and lapping the stray water droplets while her hand pinched Iris' nipples. She let out a hum of appreciation.

Sliding her hand down Iris' toned stomach, after an eternity, she finally reached her heat. Her long fingers circled her clit, applying just the right amount of pressure which made Iris moan.

She slipped her fingers into her her pussy and started fingering her. The heel of her palm continued to massage the sensitive nub of nerves. Iris shuddered from the over stimulation and let out a cry when her fingers brushed her sweet spot.

"Just like that Adara. There is a reason we got an apartment for ourselves. Scream my name."

Aurora curled her fingers and Iris was climaxing. She soared and fell simultaneously and her entire body shook with pleasure. Her knees felt weak and she leaned against the wall, not able to hold herself up.

*********************

Aurora took out two towels. She wiped the water droplets accumulated on her porcelain skin. After she was done, she wrapped her with the towel and kissed her nose.

"There. All clean now.'

Iris smiled as she saw Rory wipe herself. She was just reaching for her pyjamas when Iris stopped her.

"What are you doing Rory?"

"Wearing clothes?"

"Babe... Did you forget about our 'no clothes in bed' policy?"

Rory raised an eyebrow.

Iris rolled her eyes and threw her over her shoulder and headed to bed. "I'm not done with you Rory!"

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was 7 in the evening and Aurora's shift was over. She was exhausted. Being a senior resident was no joke. Managing her case load along with the residents and interns reporting to her was taxing. But she loved it. She enjoyed saving lives and shaping the future generations of doctors.

Aurora trudged to the locker room and changed into a pair of skinny jeans and a t-shirt with the 'Guns N' Roses' logo on it. She was wearing her shoes when an blue envelope fell out of her locker. Confused, she picked it up and opened it to see a short poem.

"Take me to the place we first met, Both partnered up, with eyes full of hate, But I would be lying to your face, If I didn't say that I wanted to be your babe." ~A

She realised it was Iris' handwriting. Place we first met...? AH! The foyer area.

Aurora picked up her satchel and headed towards the foyer area. She went to the softboard where they used to attach the intern list. Surely, there was another blue envelope pinned to the board. And next to it, Elijah was waiting.

"What's up Aurora?!" Elijah squeaked.

"I'm good but what's up with you?" She asked as she unpinned the envelope.

"Chilling. And waiting for Sothy..Needed to talk to him.. Y'know the usual drill." Elijah gave out a nervous laugh. Aurora narrowed her eyes but decided to not give it any mind. Opening the letter carefully, she found another poem-

"Take me to the place where we had each other's back, Complementing each other, which other people lack, You panicked and didn't know what to do with your hands, And then I came and told you to take a deep breath and relax."

This was definitely regarding the triage they had performed during the subway accident. That was the only time Aurora had frozen. Even then, Iris was such a sweetheart. She quickly walked down to the ER.

She reached the nurses' station and Sienna was standing there, in her casual clothes signing her charts. "Hey Sienna." Aurora said as she subtly looked around, trying to find a blue envelope.

"Hey Aurora! Looking for something?"

"Huh? Yeah kinda..."

"Well, I think this might help you." She slid a blue envelope towards her. Aurora took it. "Do you have any idea what's going on?"

"I don't know Aurora. Iris just gave this to me." Sienna shrugged.

Tearing open the envelope, she found a amethyst stone necklace. It was her birthstone. It gleamed under the white lights of the ER. Holding it in one hand, she proceeded to read another poem-

"Take me to the place we lay face to face, Where the pain in my head left me in a daze, You made an exception for my case, And secured in my heart, your own place."

The hospital room! "Gotta go. Bye Sienna." Sienna just waved back.

Pocketing the necklace, she rushed to the emergency staircase. She took two steps at a time and reached the second floor. She ran to room no. 203, where she had stitched up Iris and slept by her side. Surely, there was a blue envelope sitting on the bed.

"Take me to the place where we first kissed, You were hurting and pissed, In the dark, your soul you bared, And I knew, in my future, you would always be there."

Wait a second...this was regarding the ED Case she had.

She hauled ass to the on call room on the third floor. She opened the door and tiptoed in. Jackie was lying on one of the beds, solving a crossword. "You took your time I guess." Jackie yawned.

"And you are as bright as a ray of sunshine." Aurora responded sarcastically, as she started moving pillows to search for another letter.

"Aha! Victory." Aurora said as she blew the hair which had fallen on her face. She eagerly opened it-

"Take me to the place where you said you loved me, I shared my burden and felt free, My heart was bursting and fell the tears of ecstacy, It was always you and me, Adara and Rory."

She walked fast towards the elevator bank. She was getting frantic. This scavenger hunt was fun but it made her impatient. She just wanted to hold Adara.

Reaching the elevators, she saw Ethan standing there, typing on his phone.

"Hey Dr. Ramsey."

"Hello Dr. Emery."

"Are you...texting?"

"Apparently."

"Umm...but didn't you tell me that you hated it?"

Ethan rolled his eyes. "Emery, it's my wish if I want to use this godforsaken mobile. I can't even type without autocorrect making it into a different word. Lord, the end is near."

Aurora chuckled and one of the elevators near Ethan dinged. She was about to enter it when Ethan stepped in front of it, blocking the entrance.

"Oops. Looks like it's full. Go in the next one."

Aurora just gave him a weird look and stepped into the other elevator and what she saw, blew her damn mind. The elevator was illuminated by strings of blue fairy lights. She stepped in and marvelled at the sight. Sound of rain pattering on the pavement sounded through the speakers. She saw a Polaroid collage of their pictures, encased in a glass frame, on one of the walls of the elevator and laughed.

So typical. Iris and her Polaroid camera... The girl had an obsession.

To the glass frame, a blue note was attached.

"Take me to the place where it all started, The fairytale story which we tell children in bed, Long gazes, happy memories shared over cheap appetizers, The beginning to our happily ever after."

The lift dinged and she stepped out with the collage and the letter. She stumbled under the weight where Bryce stepped forward and balanced her.

"Woah! Watch out Big A. Don't want you falling for me now, do we?" Bryce smirked and Aurora rolled her eyes.

"God you are so annoying, Queen B."

Bryce just chuckled and held his hand forward. "C'mon give me that. I will hold it for you."

"If you drop it, I will kick you in your family jewels so hard, that your grandchildren will feel it." She threatened.

Bryce shuddered. "Hehehe. No need to bring my testicles into this situation. And don't worry, people say I have good hands."

She handed the frame to him. She then slipped the necklace around her neck. "C'mon Lahela. We are going to Donahue's."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The moment she stepped into the small pub, all the patrons stopped talking. Everybody's eyes were on her and she felt awkward.

What the fuck is going on here? Iris, what are you playing at?

"Hey Dr. Emery. These are for you." Reggie handed her a beautiful bouquet of sunflowers. Aurora smelled them and blushed. In midst of the flowers she found a small blue note.

"You are so close babe. Come to me. I am waiting for you, in the beer garden."

Aurora walked towards the back door opening into the beer garden. People just parted, like the Red sea, giving her place to go. When she opened the door, her jaw were on the floor.

Rose petals lined the path towards the stage where live bands usually performed. The gentle strumming of a guitar played in the background. She walked slowly, through the tables and what she saw made her halt in her tracks.

Iris stood there, with a soft smile on her face. She was wearing a midnight blue romper dress which ended in shorts. It was sleeveless and it was clinched at her waist. Her guitar was slung around her shoulder and she continued to strum the strings.

"This one's for you babe. Thank you for coming." She spoke into the mic and started singing in an angelic voice.

Salt on your skin and stars in your eyes

You close in the darkness and I'm all out of lies

Taking my heart, and made it your own

You are everything that I've ever known

I tried to, resist you

I tried to keep my distance

I tried to play it cool

I'm no match for your persistence

And oh, you lift me up

When the fog rolls in, you lift me

When the cold sets in, you give me

The strength to take on anything, oh anything

I see by the light you bring

You lift me up, you lift me up

I see by the light you bring, you lift me up, you lift me up

Aurora was hypnotised by her beautiful voice. Iris took of her guitar and handed it to a person, you continued to strum it. She slowly stepped down from the stage and headed towards Aurora.

She grasped her hands and squeezed. "Rory, you are the best thing that has ever happened in my life. When you walked into my life, love walked in. It was a magical moment that I will always cherish and treasure. They say that love is many a splendoured thing, constantly changing and evolving. My love for you will be ever changing like a chimera and ever growing like a verdant valley."

"You are my guide to love, my every wish, and the person I want to grow old with." Iris spoke with so much conviction that Aurora fell in love with her all over again.

She got down on one knee and tears streamed down Aurora's face as she held a hand to her mouth.

Iris pulled out a diamond ring, which glimmered under the fairy lights of the beer garden.

"Aurora Lucille Emery, will you do me the honour of being my partner in crime and my wife for the rest of our lives?"

"YES Iris Adara Everette. Hell fucking yeah!!" Iris got up and slipped the ring on her ring finger.

Iris was so giddy with joy that she picked up Aurora and twirled her. Aurora laughed and everyone was either clapping, hooting or crying. She set her down and grabbed her face and kissed her.

"I am not dreaming, am I??" Iris asked as she held Aurora tightly, forehead to forehead.

"No dum dum. We’re getting married. Guess you are stuck with me, huh?"

“And I wouldn't have it any other way.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

That was one of the most joyous night of their lives. They danced, sang and partied till the early hours. The wedding took place the following summer near the docks. It was a small ceremony, but everybody enjoyed it.

Sienna and Jackie were made the maids of honor while Ethan, Bryce and Elijah were made the best men. Ethan walked iris down the aisle while Naveen officiated the ceremony. 

The reception was a blast which took place on a boat. Jackie and Sienna managed to make everyone drunk and forced them to dance. Even Harper Emery and the Chief. Bryce almost started strip dancing and Ethan was doing the running man. Elijah did wheelies on his wheelchair. It was unforgettable.

Everything was perfect at last. Rory and Adara finally got their happy ending which they always dreamed of. They were happy, content and proud moms of twin baby boys. They continued to push boundaries in the medical field and became the dynamic duo of diagnostics medicine.

They both lived happily ever after.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

THE END.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

And here is the end of Rory and Adara’s tale. Thank you for reading this mini series through its ups and downs, laughter and tears

It was so much fun writing this and I so, so grateful to all of the comments you guys left under each chapter. It motivated me to deliver. So thank you.

Once again, I am grateful to every single person who gave this fanfic a chance and believed in my writing.

like, comment and reblog :)

[onewaywardwitch]

Just A Typo (9/?)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Hacker!Reader

Summary: It was a simple challenge between a very competitive group of friends. A challenge that ended very differently than anticipated.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2171

A/N: Sorry to anyone who was tagged earlier and found nothing. I have no clue what happened but here is part 9 finally!

Left. Another left. Left again. Ooo, a right this time. Straight on for a bit. And another left. It wasn’t long before I began to get dizzy. Every corridor looked the exact same and I started to wonder if Bucky was just guessing with every turn.

Lucky for us, we had yet to bump into anymore of my kidnappers. Bucky had informed me while we were running that it had been Hydra who took me, this building being a lesser-known base of theirs.

I glanced at Bucky, amazed at how he wasn’t even the slightest bit out of breath. He looked like a male model. I had no idea how he did it. I was panting like a dog and sweating like a pig. The sweat served only to glue my hair to my forehead. My legs were burning, each step causing a fresh wave of pain through my entire body. I was regretting every time I ignored Angie when she asked if I wanted to go to the gym. I'd definitely have to go from now on, this was embarrassing.

We took a final right-hand turn and I noticed the large double doors up ahead. We burst through them, Bucky still holding his gun up as we ran, just in case.

“Oh! Fresh air! Sunlight! How I missed you!” I exclaimed, my arms outstretched, inhaling deeply.

When I reopened my eyes (which I hadn’t realised I closed in the first place), Bucky was staring at me incredulously. I simply shrugged my shoulders at him and we carried on.

I was grateful for the lack of Hydra soldiers we had come across as we made our way towards the Quinjet which they had landed a little away from the base.

I could only imagine how red my face was when we finally reached it. The ramp was down already so I dropped to my hands and knees and began crawling the rest of the way into the Quinjet. Bucky chuckled quietly to himself.

“You doing alright?”

Instead of lifting myself into a seat, I resorted to just lying against it on the floor. Standing up was too much of an effort. “Oh yeah, I'm great. I just don’t run. It's not really my thing,“ I replied, looking around at the empty space surrounding us. “Where’s everyone else?”

He handed me a bottle of water as he sat on the chair next to the one I was leaning against. I hadn’t realised how parched I was, and the bottle was empty within seconds. Bucky had a second one beside him, passing it to me without me needing to ask.

“They're inside, drawing Hydra away from you. My job was to get you out safely, everyone else was to clear a pathway for us. They should be out soon, I already told them I've got you out, doll.”

I rested my head against his thigh subconsciously while we waited for the others. We sat there in silence, simply enjoying each other’s company. I was just glad to be out of that prison. It was comforting to know there was someone non-threatening beside me. Well, non-threatening to me at least.

I was struggling to keep my eyes open when the rest of the team finally got on board. It was impossible to fall asleep with the flurry of greetings I got. Between the gentle claps on the shoulder and the soft hugs, accompanied with an equally soft grin, I found myself nearly forgetting the situation I had been in only moments ago.

What surprised me was Natasha giving me a nod and small smile. I almost choked on my third bottle of water; Bucky’s concerned look immediately stopping the coughing. When I finally looked back at her, she had already moved on, speaking to Clint about something.

Wanda was sitting on my other side, playing with my hair. It was such a caring act that I couldn’t help but begin to drift off once again. The Quinjet was surprisingly quiet, especially considering just how many people were on board. They kept their conversations low, but as I fell asleep, I still managed to pick up on few sentences. Mainly about my well-being, but I was too tired to bother getting involved, Bucky’s thigh acting as a cosy pillow.

~~~~~

“Y/N, we’re back at the tower.”

I faintly recognised Bucky’s low tone speaking to me. Opening my eyes slowly, I scanned the Quinjet and noticed it had been emptied of both people and equipment. Anything the team had taken from the Hydra base had been removed and brought inside already. Bucky must have stayed and allowed me to sleep for as long as possible. I didn’t know how to thank him for the gesture. All I could do was nod and smile at him.

Still drowsy from my great nap, he held my arm as we walked inside. We immediately went to the doctors in the tower, much to my chagrin. Bucky stayed with me, joking that he was my ‘designated babysitter’ now. As much as I appreciated the thought, I couldn’t help but wish I was alone when the doctor began checking my arms. It took Bucky exactly three seconds to notice the bruises.

“What the hell are those?” He demanded. He stood beside me, inspecting my arm closely. I avoided his eyes.

“Umm… apparently a bit of electrocution can cause bruises. Who’d have thought it, right?” He completely ignored the awkward response I gave and asked if it hurt at all. I shook my head, telling him I hadn’t even seen them until about ten minutes beforehand.

The doctor kicked Bucky out shortly after that, claiming that the rest of her examinations would need to be carried out in private. When he offered to wait for me outside, I declined. “Go ahead. I'm sure you’ve got some briefing to be at. I'll be okay. I know my way around the tower.”

It took longer than I expected to convince him I'd be fine. When he finally agreed to leave, the doctor turned to me with a smile.

“You know, he’s always been very reserved around everyone, but he seems to like you a lot.”

I scratched the back of my neck and laughed with embarrassment.

“Bucky? Nah, he… he doesn’t think of me like that.”

She chuckled. “If you say so.”

~~~~~

She let me go when she eventually decided she was satisfied with my condition, informing me that the bruises on my arm were the worst of the damage and they would fade after a week. She stated that I was lucky that I didn’t come back in a worse shape, considering what Hydra tended to do to their victims.

I wandered through the halls, not having anywhere I needed, or wanted, to be in that moment. It was quieter than I expected, but it was fairly late. The great thing about Tony was that he never overworked his employees, he’d much rather overwork himself. That was also one of the worst things about Tony. Pepper had thanked me on many occasions for giving him an excuse to take a break. Everyone else in the tower wasn’t much better. If they weren’t on a mission, they were either training for the next one or writing up reports on the last. I couldn’t remember the last time they had all even watched a movie together, and I made a mental note to myself to force them to the cinema soon.

As I strolled past one of the many offices, I heard a screech behind me. Whipping around instantly, I was greeted with the sight of a blur moving towards me at full speed. It was a fairly long corridor, so I had time to decide whether the blur was dangerous and I should run, or whether I was better off just giving into my curiosity and seeing what it was.

The blur was still coming towards me quickly, persistent in emitting some kind of scream. It was a few seconds later when I realised that scream was my name and that blur vaguely looked like my lunatic friend.

“Y/N!”

“Becca, wait- oof!”

I collapsed onto the ground under the weight of Becca throwing herself on top of me.

“You gotta stop doing that to me,” I grunted, hugging her while simultaneously trying to get her off me.

“Then stop getting yourself into life-threatening situations, you doof,” she exclaimed, her grip on me only tightening further. I gasped dramatically for air, completely giving up on attempting to move. My vision darkened and for the briefest moment I thought that Becca had finally cut off my air supply entirely. When that darkened view began to grin at me, I realised it was Angie standing above us, blocking out the lights overhead and smiling widely. My joy at seeing vanished immediately when I noticed the smallest glint of mischief in her eyes.

“Don’t you dare.”

She didn’t reply. All she did was spread her arms wide fling herself on top of us.

Both of my idiotic friends ignored my groans of pain and simply lay on me, refusing to move and completely silent. I huffed at the pair and looked down. Becca’s face was buried against me. She hadn’t spoken for a whole three minutes and I was beginning to get worried.

“Alright alright, I missed you both too.”

“That’s all we wanted to hear, y’know,” Becca’s muffled voice spoke out. They both decided to finally get up, each giving me a hand up. Once I was standing, they tightened their grip on my hands, both of them still smiling at me.

“Please knock it off. Neither of you have ever smiled for this long and you're freaking me out. You're going to break your face if you don’t stop.”

“Is it really so bad that we’re glad you're still alive and whipping out sarcastic comments,” Angie laughed, finally releasing her grip on my hand. Becca didn’t do the same. That woman had the grip of a python.

Seconds later, footsteps came thundering down the corridor and we turned to see Sam approach us.

“Ah… I came to warn you about your friends, but damn! You two are fast!” He said between laboured breaths.

“You good there?” I asked him, taking in his flushed appearance.

“Yeah, yeah, I'm good. I’m just not great with cardio.”

“Thank God I'm not the only one,” I mumbled, Angie nodding in agreement. She, of all people, knew how unfit I was. After two flights of stairs I'd be trying to roll myself the rest of the way.

Sam laughed in reply. “That’s why I normally just fly everywhere. Gotta be smart about these kinds of things,” he said, giving me a pointed look.

~~~~~

Our party of four agreed to go for a stroll through the tower together. Well, I suggested it. Becca and Angie would not be letting me out of their sight for the foreseeable future, and Sam was just there for the laughs. It was refreshing for him to be around normal people, or as close to normal he could get in his crazy world.

Steve and Tony found our group in the kitchen. Sam was making us a gourmet meal that consisted of leftover Chinese food and some questionable brownies.

“Wanda tried to remake your brownies, but I think she forgot some important ingredients. Like flavour,” he had explained.

“Something smells… inedible,” Tony said as a greeting. Sam began arguing with him, claiming there was nothing wrong with the food. Steve stood by Tony, a small smile on his face. I noticed he was glancing at me every so often, and each time he did, his smile would falter the slightest bit.

“Alright, just spit it out Steve,” I said to him, effectively stopping everyone else’s conversation and drawing their attention to us.

Steve looked at Tony for help, who only gestured towards me, silently telling him to go ahead. He took a deep breath and I could smell the apology I was about to get for whatever inconvenience was soon to happen.

“The team has been talking,” he started, and I noticed he was using his ‘Captains’ voice’, which he only ever used when he was delivering bad news. “And we all agreed that for the next while, you would be safer living here with us. We know it's not ideal, there's a lot of people here already, but it's for your own safety.”

There was a little pause before I decided to respond. “I don’t really have a choice in this, do I.”

He shook his head, Sam giving me a playful pat on the back, promising I at least won't hate it.

“On the bright side, Nat has offered to train you so you can defend yourself next time.”

My eyes widened. Each word he spoke caused a spark of panic inside me and I couldn’t stop my voice from rising several octaves.

“Nat? But she hates- what do you mean ‘next time’?”

Taglist (open):

(if there’s a strike through your name it means I couldn’t tag you)

(if I forgot to tag you just send me a message)

@amybarter15 @imperialoath @mamaraptor @marbleowl @lydklein1 @wantingtobekorra @winter-scolder @uhholyhazza @ladymelissastark @sarcasm-n-insomnia @foxylupines @myrabbitholetoneverland @amazingficsthatididnotwrite​ @markusstraya @padfootormoose @worldofchoices @just-some-stuff-in-life @colie87 @catsandbooksinafarawayplace @littleblackdressxx @thequirkypeach @astronomicparker @asguardiansoftheavengers @awesome-alysia @sebbystanlover-vk @unknownwonder @wowstiless @d-eracine @nattie0010 @bloodyproudpotterhead @waddupmydood @jjlevin @libbymouse @piscesbarnes @yourwonderbelle @pinnedandneedled @otterlockholmes @wandressfox @chybay22 @my-nonexistant-romance@cap-just-said-language @pinkbubblegumuniverse @forsaken-letters @mywinterwolf @izzyisavengersupernaturaltrash

[an-ambivalent]

Would you write about Ray yandere (Mystic Messenger)? I love your writing!

A/N: sure! ☺ I hope this is to your liking!

[WARNING: MENTIONS OF ABUSE, VIOLENCE AND FORCED DRUG USE. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK]

Not So Sweet Love [Yandere! Ray] [Reader-Insert]

Tight ropes bounded her hands to the headboard of the bed, and her legs were spread apart forcefully, with chains wrapped around her feet, binding them to the bedpost. Her clothes were in tattered shreds everywhere – on the floor, on the bed; minimal amount of clothing covered her bare body. Blue and black colours decorated her skin, and a dark crimson stream flowed out of the countless of small cuts which were given to her all over her body. Bruises, harsh fingerprints, and dug in nails littered her skin, while furious red and blue love bites were etched on her neck, and collarbone. Her mouth was gagged, and dried tears had solidified on her cheeks.

Her throat was dry and burnt due to all her wails and screams, which were caused by an unimaginable pain. Her chest heaved from the lack of oxygen, and she sat still, unable to make any sorts of movements.

“This is all for your sake,” She remembered, he had whispered, as he wiped the needle of an injection with a cloth to clean it. The tip of the needle shone brightly under the room’s light.

“For you to truly love me, you need to see my world. I love you so so so so much that I need to save you. I need to take you to paradise, but I can only give you pleasure after the pain,” He had whispered sensually, as his breath fanned against her ear, and caused goosebumps to arise. She would have melted on her knees if his words were not inclined with danger and promised her terror. In fear, she shook her head and tried to pull her hands, and legs away from their confinement. Her skin tensed as he brought the needle closer to her, and she tried to move herself away from his venomous touch. Her screams were muffled due to the gag in her mouth, and she continued to desperately attempt to escape her imprisonment. But her efforts were useless, and soon, he brushed her cheeks with his gloved fingers to comfort her.

“Shhh,” He had said, as he licked a tear off her cheek. His spit stained her skin, and [Name] winced in disgust.

He chose to ignore her reaction.

Then, he injected the drug into her, and kissed her gagged lips.

“It will all be over soon enough,” He assured. Simultaneously, [Name]’s eyes dilated due to the drugs, and suddenly, feelings of discomfort, anxiety and fear kicked in her nerves.

That was all she could recall clearly, before things had become hazy for her. Afterwards, she could only remember the sensation of different touches which were bestowed upon her. For example, a blunt knife that was forcefully pressed into her skin, and cut through it. When her given cuts bled, he had harshly bit them, and sucked on the blood of her wounds. Seldomly, all of the pain, was also accompanied with lingering soft touches and kisses. However, the softness of these intimacy gestures lasted for a mere millisecond as it would suddenly morph into pain.

The entire experience was one which kept her on edge, tested her limits, until she would inevitably just break. The drug seemed to have heightened her sense of touch. This meant that all the pain was worse than it would’ve been, and the entire experience itself was just abhorrently horrible.

The so called angel, [Name] had thought, was nothing but a spawn of the devil.

While she was focused on trying to cope with her pain, she failed to notice her capturer, opening the door of her bedroom, and entering it.

As Ray laid his eyes on her, he tensed up.

He knew that she was hating him for what he had done to her. However, in order for their relationship to really work, in Ray’s eyes, this had to be done. He truly wished he could just take away her pain, and give her endless pleasure. That day would come as well; but for now, it was an  obligation for her to know the pain of his world.

Besides, the image of [Name] sitting still in vulnerability and in pain, should have made him feel guilty. But it did not.

Instead, it excited him, enough to form a bulge in his pants.

She was helplessly waiting for him, only him. Ray was the ONLY one who could help her, touch her, and see her humiliated the way she was.

He was the only one who could save her.

His eyes were dilated in arousal, and with a maniacal glint shining in his mint-coloured eyes, he licked his lips in excitement.

Originally, he was going to visit her room so he could apologize for his previous actions and make up for it.

But, he thought, a little more pain wouldn’t hurt…. Right?

“Hello my sweet princess,” Ray greeted, smiling innocently, causing [Name] to look towards him.

He was giving her that particular smile that made him seem like a soft marshmallow who was incapable of hurting even a miniscule fly. [Name] had fallen in love with this smile because it seemed to be the cause for why the sun shone so brightly, and the flowers bloomed so beautifully.

However, now, she knew that his smile was anything but innocent. She was haunted by it, even in her daydreams.

Ray’s smile widened into wide cheshire grin and his eyes shone terrifyingly with dangerous obsession and infatuation, rather than love.

He took out another injection, and a knife from his pocket.

[Name]’s eyes widened impossibly huge in fear.

“Shall we have a round two?”

Masterpost | Request Rules

[writesandramblings]

The Captain’s Secret - p.97

“Facing the Music”

A/N: This takes place during episode 14, "The War Without, the War Within."

If you’re wondering why this and the previous chapter are coming to tumblr late, it’s the abusive trolls on this site. Honestly, that person was so ridiculous and mean-spirited, I was sorely tempted to post this and the previous chapter without any readmore cuts at all just to spite them. Since I didn’t want to do that to my actual followers, I waited until the urge had passed.

Full Chapter List Part 1 - Objects in Motion << 96 - Nowhere and Everywhere 98 - A Fate Worse Than Death >>

They were home, but they had not arrived as intended.

Nine months. That was how far they had missed their mark. They had been thrown nine months forward in time and the war they left was not the war they returned to. As the strategic display automatically updated itself with the latest battle and territory information from Federation communication relays, Saru and the bridge crew watched the map turn from blue to red and faced the grim reality of their new circumstance.

They had been gone nine months and the Klingons had won. The Federation lay almost wholly under Klingon control.

Their first order of business was to try and contact whatever remained of Starfleet, but there was no response.

The second was to assess the state of the ship. Riding the mycelial shockwave had left Discovery heavily damaged and on auxiliary power. Saru ordered all available personnel to repair assignments. Under the circumstances, they could not expect any help to come.

That left the matter of unwanted passengers. Lorca was not in sickbay as Saru, Burnham, and Georgiou expected. They found an entirely different set of patients laid out under the bright, silvery-white lights, and one very agitated, hovering lawyer who, when questioned as to the whereabouts of their former captain, said with a shrug:

"Dead."

Georgiou smirked with a mixture of satisfaction and curiosity. "Is he, now."

"Yeah, that's what happens when you're stabbed through the chest," Groves spat. The words verged on comical, but the tone was angry and bitter.

As the medical staff treated Georgiou behind the vague safety of an isolation forcefield, Saru attempted to ascertain what had happened to O'Malley and Mischkelovitz. This time Groves' explanation was less clear.

"I don’t know. He—Lorca was dying and Lalana said goodbye and Mac had—was injured, and Melly tried... something, I don't know what, and..."

When it came to lies, Groves really put all of them to shame. He had learned at a very young age how to appear convincingly flummoxed. He was the perfect combination of confusion and nerves, frustration and upset. He sounded completely unrehearsed and in the middle of processing the situation. Burnham and Saru judged him to be a complete wreck. But then, from where they were standing, he was a civilian who never should have been on the ship in the first place. They hardly expected grace under pressure from someone who lacked the experience and training to be on a mission in deep space or a ship in the midst of war. When Groves asked to leave, claiming he could no longer bear being in the room, Saru granted the request.

Neither of them realized exactly how right Lalana was about the similarities between Groves and Lorca. Like Lorca and Lalana, Groves knew the kernel of a good lie was a central truth and when he spoke the words in the moment, he truly did not know what had happened to Mischkelovitz, which made it the perfect excuse to go and find out from someone who did.

Dr. Pollard offered her medical assessment of the patients. "The colonel has lost a significant amount of blood, but he'll make a full recovery. Dr. Mischkelovitz..." Pollard took a breath. The exact nature of the issue was confusing. "It appears her implants overloaded, terminating her neural activity."

"Alert me to any changes," instructed Saru. Pollard returned to her patients. Saru addressed Burnham again. "I must inform you as to a change in our status. As of our last jump..."

Most anyone else on the ship would have been elated to learn that Discovery had returned to its home universe, but Burnham, with her Vulcan upbringing, received the information calmly and coolly, glancing at Georgiou as she processed the ramifications.

"Which makes this a very sensitive situation," Saru concluded. "I must ask, what were you thinking?"

Burnham shook her head sadly. "The truth is that I just couldn't watch her die again, Saru. I wanted to offer her more. I am sorry."

"Saving Georgiou may indeed prove to be a grave error in judgment, but, no one else could have done what you did aboard that Terran flagship. You are alive, and we are home."

The medical technician assessing Georgiou completed his examination and the forcefield lowered. "I told you I did not require assistance," was Georgiou's seething indictment as security personnel moved to surround her. She sneered at the display of supposed strength. She could have taken all four of the officers with ease, but not the many dozens that would have followed on a ship that she did not control.

"It is protocol," Saru informed her.

"Where I come from, protocol demands that I eat you," said Georgiou.

Burnham moved between Georgiou and Saru defensively. "This Kelpien is my captain."

"You let livestock command your ships? Yesterday we dined on the entrails of his brethren."

Saru's mouth tightened. Burnham, as always, was treating Saru as if he was incapable of fighting his own battles, and then there was the clear implication that Burnham had eaten at least one member of his species during her time with the Terrans. His voice was firm as he ordered, "Transport our visitor to guest quarters on deck three and confine her there now."

"Is that what I am? Your guest?"

"For now," said Saru as the white light of the transport enveloped the former emperor. He turned to Burnham.

"I'm sorry. I hoped to spare you the pain," Burnham offered.

Saru grimaced. Perhaps she had, but it still hurt to know that out of everyone Saru had ever met, the person who respected him the least was the one he had known the longest. He pushed the matter aside for the moment and addressed the room. "The presence of a Terran defector on this ship is to be regarded as classified. Its utterance will carry a penalty of treason. Is that understood?"

The chorus of ayes in the room reflected the truth. Burnham might not have moved past her perceptions of Saru from their history together, but everyone else had.

Saru returned to the bridge just as scanners picked up an approaching vessel with a Federation signature. "Hail them at once," said Saru, taking over the captain's chair from Airiam.

The hail was not returned. "Captain," said Owosekun, "its shields are up. I-it's phasers are charged and targeting."

"Shields up!" said Saru, but it was too late.

"I'm picking up incoming transporter signatures," said Rhys. "We're being boarded."

Armed figures appeared in cascades of light around the bridge. Saru's command was simultaneous to the eruption of chaos and confusion as the intruders took up positions targeting each station and hapless crewmembers withdrew their hands from their controls. "Identify yourselves!"

The boarding party was being led by a familiar face, Captain Sherak. "Hands where we can see them!" he ordered.

"I demand an explanation for this intrusion," said Saru.

"We ask the questions," Sherak warned. "Clear for transport."

Two final figures appeared on the bridge. Ambassador Sarek and Admiral Cornwell.

"Where's Captain Lorca?" Cornwell demanded. When the answer did not come quickly enough, she followed with, "Computer, initiate command level override. Authorization, Admiral Katrina Cornwell, Pi-Beta-6. Start with him."

Sarek strode towards Saru. "Ambassador, what are you doing!"

"What the times require," said Sarek, pressing his hands to Saru's face. "My mind to your mind. My thoughts to your thoughts."

Saru's jaw clicked in distress as Sarek overrode his psyche, peeling away the layers like petals on a flower and digging deep into the events of the past few days because for Discovery, that was all it had been.

"Mr. Saru is who he appears to be," Sarek concluded, but the calm Vulcan exterior broke a moment. "The Discovery has been through an inconceivable ordeal."

"Then where the hell is her commanding officer?"

Sarek turned back to Cornwell, emotionless façade restored. "Captain Lorca is dead."

Cornwell convened a meeting in the conference room with Saru, Sarek, Burnham, and Stamets. Hearing the full details of Lorca's subterfuge, Cornwell could scarcely contain her shock and anger. To think the man she had been championing, consoling, and had slept with all those months ago had been an impostor the whole time. She took her phaser, adjusted it to full, and fired on a bowl of fortune cookies sitting on the table. Her outburst concluded, they proceeded with other subjects.

The situation was as bad as it seemed. There was one spark of hope in all the calamity: Discovery had not returned from the other universe empty-handed, it had brought with it the cloak-breaking algorithm. Cornwell had immediately disseminated the algorithm to Starfleet's remaining ships, but as she explained the tactical situation to Saru, Burnham, and Stamets, she expressed the very real possibility that the cloaking algorithm had arrived far too late to make a difference.

As she listed out atrocities committed by the Klingons during their advance, the situation began to seem worse and worse. One-third of the fleet had been eradicated. Outposts, starbases, and whole colonies had been wiped from the map. Kol's death had fractured the Klingon leadership and now all twenty-four houses were acting as independent marauders, greedily engulfing Federation territory as they competed for renown and glory, making impossible any negotiation.

Cornwell's directive was clear. "Discovery will jump to Starbase 1 immediately. All evidence of your recent journey will be classified and destroyed. We cannot risk the knowledge of this alternate universe leaving the confines of Discovery."

Stamets shook his head. "We used up the last of our supply of spores to get us home and I can't jump without them."

They would have to make the journey at warp, across sectors full of Klingons.

"We will also have to dispose of Lorca's remains," said Saru.

A ripple of shock passed across Cornwell's face. "He's... he's here on Discovery?"

"His body was recovered," confirmed Saru.

"I would like to see it for myself," announced Burnham. It seemed an odd request, but Georgiou had put a kernel of doubt in the back of Burnham's mind back in sickbay. Such doubts were not easily shaken.

"Admiral?"

"Make sure it's incinerated," was all Cornwell said. Perhaps the better thing would have been to see the body herself, obtain some closure, but it felt like the only closure she needed was knowing every last trace of that impostor was gone from their universe.

When Burnham and Saru stepped into the turbolift, Stamets stepped in with them. "Deck nine," said Saru, and Stamets did not call out otherwise. It turned out they were all headed for the same destination.

"You have some business in Lab 26, lieutenant?" asked Saru.

"Just a quick word with Lalana," said Stamets.

"Who is Lalana?"

Saru and Stamets realized Burnham had never encountered the lului. "That's..." Stamets was unsure how to answer the question. A friend of Lorca's? A secret crewmember? A hitchhiker?

"She is a member of a classified research team," said Saru. "She was... acquainted with the captain."

"Are you familiar with 'Lorca's alien?'" offered Stamets, because that was what Lorca had called her when they first met and he had forgotten the actual species name. The designation did not ring any bells for Burnham.

"She is a lului," clarified Saru.

"Ah," said Burnham, "the technophobic species discovered in 2247 and designated as a Federation protectorate." She knew several other facts from the anthropological report but kept them to herself.

The Lab 26 doors did not answer to Saru's command. They had to wait for Groves to let them in, which took so long that two security personnel arrived with a gurney to move the body while they waited and Saru began to feel agitated, sensing something was up.

When the doors finally opened, Groves mumbled a vague apology about the delay, citing "O'Malley's security procedures."

The lab felt empty without Mischkelovitz. Evidence of her was everywhere—in the piles of abandoned junk and half-finished engineering projects scattered throughout the room—but there was an unsettling quietude to the place.

"He's in there," Groves told them when asked, waving his hand in the direction of Lalana's door. "But I wouldn't go in if I were you."

"We have seen dead bodies before, specialist," Saru said reassuringly. Groves only shrugged, thinking that it was their funeral.

They had seen dead bodies, but they were unprepared for what awaited them. The body lay on a couch soaked through by an enormous black stain of dried blood extending all the way to the carpet. Burnham, Saru, and Stamets recognized the dark uniform and silver-black armor worn by Lorca aboard the Charon and the familiar crop of short, brown-black hair on his head, but little else. There was a void of raw flesh and exposed bone where his face should have been. Lalana was crouched on the back of the couch above him, her tail draped down across his collar.

If they had looked closely enough, they would have noticed a distinctive, lacelike pattern of brown across the body's hands and the fact the hands were too big for the man they thought they were looking at, but no one wanted to look that closely.

"What did you do?" asked Burnham, the only one with enough presence of mind to ask the question.

"His face was my most favorite part of him, so I made it a part of me," said Lalana.

Stamets covered his mouth, feeling bile rise in the back of his throat. Beside him, Saru straightened, shocked by the idea of it. He had seen images of his own kind flayed for food, so the sight of this mutilated corpse was not wholly unfamiliar, but it felt too close to that not-so-distant reality.

Lalana could see their revulsion and confusion. She happily explained, "I know cannibalism is not favored among your species, but it is among mine. The original Captain Lorca's body was incinerated, so there was nothing for me to eat. I am very glad to have gotten the chance to amend that."

"I warned you," Groves called out from the main lab area. There was a reason he had chosen not to reenter the room.

The security officers went to work, sealing the body in a bag and lifting it onto the gurney to move to the corridor outside where it could be beamed away. Burnham left with them, having confirmed what she came for, but Saru remained in the main lab to order Groves to disable the lab's independent security protocols. Groves uncharacteristically mumbled an explanation about having coopted O'Malley's security protocols in the event of an incursion while they were under Terran threat and being unable to reset them.

The whole time, Stamets stood there wondering if he had made a mistake, but he was there because he wanted to say something important, difficult as it was after what he had just witnessed. It felt important because he was not sure anyone would say it to Lalana and in the wake of his own loss, someone ought to. "I'm sorry. I know he meant something to you."

"Thank you, Paul. You meant something to him, too. You were... he... he very much enjoyed..."

Something happened in Lalana's eyes. Her pupils quivered, dilating and constricting, as if rapidly shifting focus. She seemed to wobble on her perch. Then she pitched forward on the couch, half-rolling, half-bouncing off the cushions and slamming against the edge of the coffee table as she landed between the table and couch. Mischkelovitz's leftover tools clattered loudly against the glass surface of the table.

Stamets rushed forward, yelling for Saru, but stopped short of actually touching Lalana. Black ichor bubbled up from various spots along her body. Her tongue shifted, barely managing to produce syllables, but the translator eked out, "Too much... poison..."

Saru attempted to contact sickbay. "Unable to comply," intoned the computer.

"Probably something she ate," Groves quipped. "Don't worry, I know what to do. I'll take care of it."

"She has been poisoned," said Saru. "We must begin biological containment procedures until we have identified the contaminant. Contact the medical bay immediately, Specialist Groves."

"I'll take her there myself! Here, just let me—" Stamets blocked Groves. The black ichor, for all they knew, was toxic to the touch.

"Specialist! That was an order," Saru said in a tone that invited no further objections.

Groves stood there, staring blankly at Saru and failing to comply. The minute someone walked in with a medical tricorder, the jig was going to be up. Any scan of the room would make obvious the subterfuge. "Trust me, you don't want me to do that. Everything in existence is at stake—"

"You will comply immediately or—"

There was a bang from the wall to the left of the couch. A muffled voice came from within. "Give it up, Groves! Let me out!"

Even muffled it was clear who the voice belonged to. That voice had been barking orders at them all for months now. Stamets noticed a panel fastening tool incongruously sitting on the floor at the base of the wall and grabbed it, prying open the panel. Lorca pushed from the inside and the panel went careening away to the side, falling flat against the ground and reverberating like a gong.

"What is going on here!" exclaimed Saru.

"What the hell does it look like, Saru," said Lorca acidly as he stepped down from the alcove in the wall, rubbing his shoulder at the lingering ache of being shoved into an access space not designed for a human.

"I do not think you want me to answer that," Saru replied sharply, "as it appears we have yet again fallen prey to another of your manipulations."

"You think I did this?" asked Lorca with exaggerated incredulity. "I'm the victim here!"

"If anyone's the victim, it's your little alien friend!" exclaimed Stamets.

"She'll be fine," Lorca replied. "Poison's out. She just needs to rest."

Groves was genuinely panicked. "Everyone, stop! Shut up and listen to me!"

The one thing Groves' explanation made clear was that he believed the idea of a manifest paradox with such fervency he was willing to do almost anything to make sure no one knew Lorca was alive. Saru and Stamets listened carefully and concluded that, as uncertain as this was, there was a nonzero chance Groves was right. There was no telling what would happen if some action taken in the future destabilized the probability of an event in the past. So far, they would seem to have disrupted nothing, and the safest course of action was to make sure this remained true.

The only person who seemed not to believe Groves was Lorca. He still found the paradox theory more frustrating than believable and its only virtue from his perspective was that it provided an incentive to give him what he wanted. "Look, you're back on your feet," he said to Stamets casually, "just jump me home. No one will ever know I was alive if I'm not here. And I'll shut down the reactor on the Charon, I promise. There's no Stamets over there to turn it back on, so reality'll be safe."

It sounded like Lorca was spinning a fairytale and clearly he was missing some key facts, but Stamets' first instinct was to clear up the last part of Lorca's statement. "What happened to the other me? Did—did you kill him?" (He knew, from his dreamlike encounter with the other Stamets in the mycelial network during his period of unconsciousness, that his counterpart had no love for Lorca.)

"You wouldn't have liked him, anyway," shrugged Lorca.

"I met him. I didn't like him. The point still stands!"

"It does not matter," said Saru, "as we have no spores left and the reactor has already been destroyed."

"I couldn't jump you anywhere even if I wanted to," said Stamets curtly, making it very clear he had zero intention of doing any more jumps for Lorca.

Shocked, Lorca sat down on the couch, dried blood crunching beneath him. The bulk of his most loyal supporters and his most powerful asset had just been stripped away. His position was untenable.

A fury rose in Lorca so black it could have collapsed the room into a hole. He slammed both his fists down so hard on the coffee table everything on its surface bounced several inches into the air and objects went flying off onto the floor like engineering confetti, but the synthetic glass was too strong to break under the impact and the force traveled back up his arms. He grabbed his chest in pain. A gasp escaped, soundless but for the croak of air in his throat, and he doubled over. A moment later, he upended the table with a kick that sent it tumbling halfway to the door. Then he sat in quiet agony with his head by his knees, air hissing through his teeth.

"Where is the recording from the alternate future?" asked Saru. His ganglia itched along the back of his skull.

They searched the room, a task made harder by the scattered mess Lorca had created. The holodisc was missing. Suspicion immediately fell on Lorca, but when he turned out his pockets in furious annoyance, the only thing he had on him was Allan's tooth. (Saru wondered why Lorca had a human tooth in his pocket but decided it was better not to ask.)

"It's possible," said Groves, "that the disc vanished because we're experiencing temporal instability."

"More likely it rolled off into a corner when you threw it," Lorca sniped at Groves. He nudged Lalana's shoulder with his foot, reaching a hand down towards her.

"I wouldn't do that, she's covered in poison," Stamets advised.

Lorca's shirt was in a sorry state after everything he had been through, slashed and cut and soaked through with dried blood. "I would." He pulled it off and wrapped Lalana in it, grimacing and grunting as he lifted her up and carried her to the back wall. His chest screamed at him. It was a welcome sensation, a physical pain to match the acute disappointment he was feeling.

On a hunch, Lorca went for the biggest storage compartment and was rewarded by the sight of a sealed vat of biomimetic gel sliding out. He carefully lowered Lalana inside and stood there, frowning and shirtless, leaning with his hands on the edge of the drawer. Lalana's eyes stared blankly up at him, the pupils fully constricted.

"This is completely unacceptable," Saru admonished Groves. "We must inform the admiral. Release the control override on the lab."

"You're gonna sell me out to that Vulcan taskmaster?" asked Lorca, wiping the gel from his forearms. "After everything I've done for you?"

"I do not know where Admiral Terral is. Admiral Cornwell is aboard Discovery."

Lorca shook his head and sneered with disdain. Unbelievable. He described Cornwell in a set of entirely unflattering and unrepeatable terms, adding, "I spent two days in Klingon prison and she thinks I should be stripped of command? They've had her for weeks! The gall of it."

"It has been nine months since Admiral Cornwell was captured," corrected Saru.

Groves saw an opportunity to hit Lorca in the side of the head with a proverbial curveball and jumped on it gleefully. "Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you. We're nine months in the future from when we left. We didn't just slip through two universes, we basically slipped on a banana peel through time."

Something happened none of them had ever seen before.

Lorca's face went blank.

Cornwell's arrival provided Petrellovitz a unique opportunity and created a pressing need for her to execute her plan swiftly lest the assembled pieces become scattered.

"I'll bring you out soon," were the last words she said to L'Rell as she tucked a pile of blankets into her bunk and beamed out of the brig while the guard was distracted by a strange whistling sound coming from behind a wall panel. A minor tweak to the pressure of a plasma conduit. Discovery's crew was largely young and inexperienced and easy to trick. After a few minutes of frustration, the guard called for a repair tech to come address the issue and resumed his watch of the brig cells, confident he was looking at one sleeping human and one scarily alert Klingon, none the wiser as to the deception.

Next came the call: the Klingon prisoner was being transported to the USS Khorana. Brig to brig transport, nothing to be concerned about. The guard accepted the command completely, accompanied as it was by the proper security codes authorizing the transfer.

L'Rell found herself in a cargo bay surrounded by crates of supplies. Petrellovitz was putting on a set of fabricated surgical clothing, momentarily naked and entirely concerned about it. "If you're thinking about overpowering me, know that the computer will automatically alert them to your presence if I don't supply it with the correct codeword every ten minutes. You might get to the shuttlebay, but I wouldn't count on getting much farther." She finished off her look with a surgical mask and a short blonde wig. Then she briefly conversed with the medical bay, alerting them that a specialist was coming over from the Khorana to take a look at Mischkelovitz, and beamed away.

L'Rell stood in the cargo bay and waited. Two minutes later, the light of the transporter enveloped her again.

This time, she materialized in one of the private offices off the main area of the medical bay. The lights were low, the window was set to opaque for privacy, and it was presently configured as a surgical suite.

The woman on the slab was identical to Petrellovitz in almost every regard except one. Where Petrellovitz was marked by countless scars on her face and body, the woman on the slab was entirely unblemished. Other than that, they could have been the same person, so close was the resemblance. L'Rell gazed in amazement. Now she understood Petrellovitz's previous questions. "This is... How?"

"We're clones," said Petrellovitz flatly. "I hope this is everything you need."

A wide array of surgical tools lay at L'Rell's disposal. "Yes, this will do. Computer, lights to full." Petrellovitz winced at the change.

"What is wrong with you?" asked L'Rell, noticing the reaction to the lights. She had seen that reaction before with Lorca when she was torturing him.

"Minor radiation incident," muttered Petrellovitz. "Give me her eyes if you can."

"Could you not simply fix your scars?"

The difference in quantum signatures between the two universes was not limited to inanimate objects. In time, Petrellovitz's own skin would be replaced by skin that matched this universe as her cells were naturally replaced by new ones created after ingesting this universe's food and drink, but until then, she was taking no chances. "I prefer this. It's symbolic."

L'Rell began. Every ten minutes, as promised, the computer prompted Petrellovitz for a word. "Fox" was the first one. The implants on either side of the skull provided some trouble—they seemed to be integrated into the surrounding tissue to an alarming extent—but L'Rell managed to cut around them and excised the face into a fleshy sleeve ready for transplant. The next step was to remove Petrellovitz's skin.

"Albatross," said Petrellovitz.

"Give me the words in case you lose consciousness," said L'Rell.

"I won't," promised Petrellovitz. "Do your worst."

L'Rell removed Petrellovitz's skin in record time. There was no need to do a clean job; the skin was not going to be retained. Remarkably, Petrellovitz stayed awake as L'Rell worked from back to front, administering her own local anesthetic. The sounds she occasionally made did not seem to be of pain. "Most humans would not be able to take this," noted L'Rell, reminded again of Lorca.

"There's no one else like me." It seemed an odd statement from an admitted clone. Petrellovitz stopped L'Rell only when the Klingon was about to remove the first eye. "I'm trusting you."

"And I am trusting you," replied L'Rell.

"The next word is zebra, followed by turtle and canary."

"Zebra, turtle, canary," repeated L'Rell, and repeated the words again when the computer prompted. Petrellovitz did not completely lose consciousness, but she did begin to drift in and out.

L'Rell finished the first eye. "Marvelous," said Petrellovitz, testing the function. It was a little blurry, but the bright lights in the room were no longer an issue. L'Rell moved on to the next and marveled at how easy this was when the source and target were so similar. There weren't even any tissue compatibility issues to worry about; Petrellovitz's biology accepted the transplanted material as if it were her own native biology.

Horse and rattlesnake came and went. L'Rell finished the skull work and began on the first hand, emboldened by their quick progress to take almost the whole forearm up to the elbow. She was sliding it into place when the alarm sounded.

"Forget the left hand," said Petrellovitz, keying commands into the terminal beside her. "Close up. I can buy us a few minutes."

Petrellovitz dispensed something in a hypospray. L'Rell asked what it was. "Vetroxican. Should knock me out for an hour or two. Take her." Petrellovitz shoved her double's body off the slab into L'Rell's waiting arms and took Mischkelovitz's place. "Stick to the story. We sink or swim on how well you play this."

Cornwell ordered every record of Discovery's jaunt into the mirror universe destroyed. The risk of proof escaping the ship and disrupting everything in their universe was too great.

To her surprise, someone had beaten her to the punch. All the security footage was already gone.

"That's convenient," said Cornwell darkly.

"I'm sorry, admiral," said Rhys, roughly the third time in as many minutes he had spoken those words. He was updating her as to the situation in the captain's ready room. Cornwell had set the lights higher so the room felt less like Lorca. "The system registered a power overload when we jumped. It wiped everything, main and backups."

Cornwell chewed her lip. "You're telling me this was an accidental power overload? That only wiped your security footage?"

Rhys visibly paled. "I'm sorry, admiral. That's what it looks like."

That made no sense. It reeked of sabotage. But who would want the footage wiped? And why? "What about the prisoners in the brig?" Georgiou was not the only refugee that would need to be dealt with, though she was the one less inclined to try and take over the ship.

"We just have the one, ah, Emellia Petrellovitz—"

"Hang on. What about L'Rell?"

"The Klingon? She was transferred to the Khorana."

"On whose authority!"

Somehow Rhys got paler. The authorization codes were right there on the padd in his hand. "Yours?"

"Give me that," said Cornwell, snatching the padd and glancing down at it. There it was, plain as day. The same authorization codes she had used to take command of Discovery were staring her in the face. "I didn't order that. Contact the Khorana." This took some doing—Sherak was running his ship as stealthily as possible—but they eventually made contact and Cornwell took the reply hail from the captain's chair on the bridge.

The Khorana did not have the Klingon. "There are no records of any transport," said Sherak. "We have no prisoners in our brig and all life signs are accounted for. I will check again if you require, admiral." If Sherak sounded curt, it was largely because all tempers were frayed at this point, Cornwell's included. No one in Starfleet much cared for niceties these days.

"No, Cornwell out. Lieutenant, scan and account for all life signs on this ship."

Owosekun hastened to comply and immediately identified the problem. "Admiral, the internal scanners have been compromised."

"What?"

"Attempting to bypass." The full technical explanation was too much to relay to Cornwell in the moment, but Owosekun could clearly see someone had told the computer to pull its internal scanner data not from the scanners themselves but from a set of dummy data. "It's the Mudd protocols. After Mudd took over the ship, we developed a backdoor in the event someone boarded."

There was more to the protocol than a simple command backdoor. It also let the intruder think they had control of the ship so that the officer who was actually in control could retake the ship at a moment's notice once the time was right, and allowed all authorized personnel to maintain covert communications access. All in all, Lorca had been very pleased with the idea, especially since at the time it had been keyed to revert all control to him should someone like Mudd or Cornwell come aboard.

In other words, the protocol contravened the very thing Cornwell's command codes were supposed to let her do: walk onto a starship and seize control from its captain.

"Who is in command of this ship!"

Owosekun traced the protocol. The answer to that question should have been Saru, but someone had coopted the protocol. "It's... the Brig Chess program! I'm locked out of it."

At her station, Airiam immediately launched into an investigation of her own. Owosekun was locked out, but Airiam had her personal alert node, provided to her by Groves. "I can access the program," she reported. "One moment." She sat at her engineering console, stiff and upright, appearing to do nothing. In her head, she was parsing the recent player access logs.

There was Groves, his last access right at the moment of their jump back home, but since then, he had been inactive and the only active player was... "Pet 'R,'" reported Airiam, turning to face the captain's chair. "The Terran, Petra."

"She's in the brig," Rhys said, bringing up the security feed to the main viewscreen, but immediately realized the error of his statement. From the camera angle offered by the security feed in the cell, it was clear they were looking at a pile of blankets. (There was only supposed to be a single blanket in the cell, but Petrellovitz had deemed it insufficient to craft her hoax and told the computer to provide her a couple extra.)

"Red alert," said Cornwell.

"Wait!" said Owosekun, but too late. Rhys had already triggered the alarm. For a moment, Owosekun wished Lorca were in command. Cornwell had just tipped Petrellovitz off and Lorca would have seen that from a mile away. Lorca always made it a point to mislead his enemies. His allies, too, when it came down to it. "She's in the system again."

The bridge crew sprang to life around Cornwell like a well-oiled machine. The admiral was entirely redundant in the face of their collective competency.

"Attempting to locate her access point," Owosekun declared.

"Revoking Brig Chess command access," said Airiam, mentally throwing a message to Groves as she did.

"Checking transporter logs," Bryce reported from his station.

"Dispatching security teams to shuttlebay and transporter rooms," said Rhys. "Turbolifts are locked." He reorganized the orders to have any available personnel at critical positions arm themselves in place.

"Find her!" demanded Cornwell. If anyone heard her desperate attempt at relevance, they made no sign of it.

Saru was already en route to the bridge when the red alert sounded. "Bridge," he said as he stepped into the turbolift. The doors closed and the turbolift began to move.

Then it stopped.

After spending the better part of an hour in a room whose security protocols had been coopted by a civilian and having reached a decision that same civilian did not agree with, Saru had a guess as to what was going on. "Saru to Groves! This is a red alert! Release the turbolift immediately!"

"It's not me!"

Saru could hear the panic in Groves' voice. "Saru to bridge! Status report."

Bryce was not panicked. "Sir, the Terran prisoner escaped the brig and took control of the Mudd protocols."

"Keep me updated," was Saru's order. He knew the two best people to handle that problem on the ship were Owosekun and Airiam, both of whom were currently on the bridge.

After a few minutes, Bryce reported the protocols were disabled and the turbolift resumed. Saru found the bridge fully engaged in the task at hand. He stepped into position at the science console.

"I've located them. They're in Cargo Bay 3," said Owosekun.

"Dispatching," confirmed Rhys, bringing up the security feeds. Most of the views were obstructed by rows of cargo crates stacked to the ceiling, but in one angle, L'Rell was visible pummeling a body clad in a brig-issue jumpsuit. Her fists had reduced the head to a pulp.

The security team beamed in at a safe distance from L'Rell, shouting and raising their weapons towards her. Saru watched the Klingon's shoulders rise and fall with deep breaths of exertion as she released the body and turned to face the officers, raising her hands in surrender.

"Take her to the brig," ordered Cornwell, rising from the captain's chair.

"Admiral, there is something I must speak to you about. In private," Saru said.

"I look forward to hearing it," said Cornwell joylessly. "Commander, with me."

In the turbolift, Cornwell requested Saru speak his mind.

"It is of a classified nature," said Saru. The turbolift was hardly a secure space to speak. The same went for the brig, where L'Rell offered an explanation as to what had happened.

"She took me," said L'Rell, "said she wanted to broadcast to my people and turn over Discovery. She did not understand that I left, or that there are many Klingon houses. She made me tell her about them. I did. Then you became aware of her. She was distracted dealing with your people. I stopped her."

A crucial detail Saru had missed during his turbolift confinement was that the Mudd protocols had been overridden not thanks to the combined skills of Owosekun, Airiam, and Groves, but because their opponent had suddenly stopped fighting.

"Brig Chess," said Cornwell when they were back in the hall.

"It was a program that was added during the null time incident when Mr. Groves was confined to the brig," said Saru. It seemed unwise to mention the program's enduring popularity in light of the problems it had caused.

"Who added it?"

"Dr. Mischkelovitz."

"I want to talk to her."

"Dr. Pollard does not think it likely she will recover from her neural injury."

Cornwell grimaced, pressing her thumb to her mouth in agitated thought. "I want a full review of that program."

"I recommend Commander Airiam lead the investigation. There is also the other issue I must speak with you about," Saru reminded her.

They headed back to the bridge, intending to use the ready room, but when Airiam was informed of her new task, she asked, "Should I ask Mr. Groves to assist?"

"Groves?" echoed Saru, feeling a gnawing alarm in his stomach.

"He wrote the program."

"You said it was Mischkelovitz," said Cornwell.

Saru assumed it was Mischkelovitz because Groves had been in the brig. Groves could not have...

But he had. The Lab 26 protocols, which he claimed were O'Malley's. Saru realized the reason his mind had jumped to Groves when the turbolift stopped working was that, subconsciously, he had already figured it out.

"Admiral, I did not think it possible, but I believe Mr. Groves programmed the game from the confines of the brig. I must speak with you immediately. It cannot wait any longer."

Groves let them into the lab because resistance would have been futile in the long run. "You have to keep this secret or the whole universe is gonna go poof," was his greeting to Cornwell.

"Be that as it may, Mr. Groves," said Saru, "it has come to our attention that you have compromised several of the ship's systems and I'm afraid I must take you into custody."

"Know a good lawyer?" said Groves, smiling with amusement at his own terrible joke.

Cornwell did not hang around to hear Groves plead his case with Saru. She was no longer interested in Groves or his chess program. She attempted to open the door to Lalana's room, the controls buzzing negatively in response, and Groves opened the door for her from across the room.

For a long moment after she entered and the door slid shut behind her, there were no words. Cornwell stared at Lorca, his bare chest displaying the confused mess of tissue left by Mischkelovitz, and he stared at her from his position on the couch, trying to find something in her face besides bitter anger. "Kat," he finally said.

"You," she seethed, "do not get to call me that. You do not get to speak. You... monster."

Lorca's face settled into a dry glower. Not everyone hated monsters as much as Cornwell apparently did. "Guess the cat's out of the bag." It was as much an admission that he was a monster as a clever little workaround to show that, even if he wasn't using her nickname, he could still use it. He could still play tricks on her and get the better of her.

Cornwell drew her phaser and pointed it at Lorca, exactly as she had done with the bowl of fortune cookies. Her finger hovered on the trigger.

"You gonna kill me?" he asked. "That's very Starfleet of you."

"You don't know anything about Starfleet," she said.

"Don't I? I know that you're the self-proclaimed good guys, protecting innocent aliens. Like I did at Pahvo. But you were still gonna take my ship away, weren't you?"

She could scarcely believe her ears. Her mouth fell open. The shock lasted only a moment. "This isn't your ship!" Her phaser pointed away from him, at least, because she was so angry she realized she was at risk of shooting him unintentionally.

"I built this ship!" Lorca shouted back. "I gave you the idea! Win the war with science and cookies, the 'Starfleet' way. You crewed me up with a bunch of damn cadets and I turned them into a fighting force capable of winning this war. All you had to do was let me keep Discovery! But you couldn't do that, could you? Because—"

"Because you aren't him! You lied to me!"

Lorca's face twisted into mocking indignation. "You think he never lied to you?"

Cornwell gasped involuntarily. They had that in common, the two of them. They were always playing with their cards against their chest, never sharing, misdirecting to get what they wanted, using her affection as a way to get what they wanted. They were both of them manipulative bastards and they always had been.

"Don't you dare," she said, wagging her finger, but she put her phaser back in its holster. "You don't know anything about my Gabriel."

The truth was Lorca knew more about her Lorca than she did not just because Lalana had told him the man's entire life story, but because he knew for a fact he thought like the other Lorca did. He had realized as much reading the other Lorca's logs. They were more alike than probably anyone wanted to admit. (Except Lalana, who was clinging to this fact like it was a tree in San Francisco.)

Lorca could have pressed the point with Cornwell, really beaten her up with it, but there seemed to be nothing more to gain from the venture. Instead, he said, "I know that he wouldn't be capable of winning this war, but I am."

There was a point in there. Perhaps a Terran could win this war, but Cornwell was dead-set on making sure it would not be Lorca. "You're too late. We've been overrun. The Klingons are everywhere."

This was Lorca's first update as to the tactical situation and it did not mesh with what he expected to hear. "How—I destroyed the Sarcophagus for you!"

"And now, instead of one enemy to negotiate with, we have twenty-four."

Lorca immediately realized that, while the destruction of the Sarcophagus should have given Starfleet the opportunity to retaliate in full force against a disorganized enemy, rather than go on the offensive, the Federation had probably turned the momentary strategic advantage into an attempt to negotiate. (They had. Any advantage Kol's death offered was lost when the Federation reached out, suggested this was an opportunity for peaceful resolution while the Klingons recovered from the loss of their leader, and twenty-four Klingon houses had laughed at the implication Kol's death meant anything to them and gone on to prove exactly how wrong the Federation was.)

"You—nimrods! You had everything you needed to win! I handed you victory on a platter!"

"You took our cloaking algorithm to another universe! Nine months!"

In nine months, they had not been able to craft another, not without the spore drive to gather all the data before the Klingons could disable any sensors planted on their ships. They had tried it and failed. Lorca's anger fell away, replaced by a very real regret. It was a look of regret she recognized from their ill-fated night together. "I didn't mean to," he said.

"That doesn't change the fact you did," she said, icily now that she realized this had not been his ultimate intention.

"I thought Discovery'd be gone a few weeks," he said. "Just long enough..." He looked away.

"Just long enough for us to think we needed you?" she asked. He swallowed and grimaced; that was a yes. "We did need you. As much as it pains me to admit it."

"I'm here now," he said.

Her head shook faintly. "I don't know you are. Who are you?" She had been asking that question ever since the moment she learned the truth.

"I'm Gabriel Lorca." And as if he needed to convince himself of it as much as her: "I'm still Gabriel Lorca."

Part 98

[candidlytaron]

Chapter 2: δυο

A/N: My friends suggested that I’d update twice a week. So, now I will be updating Wednesday and Friday!

But you only get half of the story The cash and the cars, and the glory No sleep and we party 'till morning 'Cause nobody cares when you're boring

— Louis Tomlinson • Just like You

• • •

BAD DECISIONS AND REGRETS

TARON

    His arm falls on the bed, and so does half of his body. As his head begins to slip away from his pillow, his eyes flutters open, and pain begins to linger on the veins of his head, starting from his nape, reaching his eyes. He sits up immediately and regrets his abrupt actions, as the pain begins to wrap itself around his head. He throws his head on both his palms, pressing the heel of his hands on his eyes, where it hurts the most. He presses it hard enough for him to begin seeing galaxies. Then he realises that it only pains him even more, so he removes his hands off his face and stare at the Victorian-styled chair that rests in front of the dresser where he saw his reflection last night, with Delilah tugging on his arm. But forget about Delilah for a second, as his sight makes it seem like he's witnessing how the world actually spins.

    He starts breathing heavily. His stomach grumbles and he feels acid crawling up to his throat. He knows this feeling too damn well so he quickly runs to the bathroom to vomit. Unfortunately, he doesn't make it to the toilet bowl, and he just ends up vomiting all over the bathroom floor. He doesn't know how the cleaning lady will react at the sight of all this, but right now, the only thing that's important to him is to end his misery. The misery that he put himself through. Although he thinks that after all the success that he's been enjoying, such as getting so much exposure after about three of the movies he played the lead in has become a box-office hit, now it feels like life's starting to pay back. That now's the perfect time for sheer bad luck to simultaneously attack.

    Here is the complete list of what went down in Taron's life these past few months that made him believe that witchcraft is real, and that he's already been cursed by whoever he may have done wrong within his life up to this point.

         1. He's been looking forward into playing a part in this popular movie franchise. Not because of the exposure, but because he's been admiring that franchise ever since it's begun, only to be filed in the rejects section by the casting directors. Now the way he looks at the movie franchise has drastically changed. Although, in many years of acting, he should know the general rule of giving everything he's got, but not expecting too much to avoid disappointments. He must have forgotten.

         2. After he got the rejection call, Delilah picks another fight with him regarding how he spends too much time on his phone when they're together. Taron wasn't to blame about it, though. He almost always have to address something technical with his management in mid-day, and even he knows how much it sucks. He tried to turn his phone off in order to make him unreachable only to get reprimanded by his manager when he turned it back on because she needed to talk to him about 'important matters'.

         3. When he tried to tell Delilah about it, she felt like she was getting blamed for him missing a lot of calls and text messages, so out come another big fight. They make up and fight again and again until Delilah just decided to leave it.

         4. Oh, but who can forget about what happened last night? Things got so much worse on their relationship as they were already arguing whilst watching celebrities go up and down to claim their awards. It's all because of Taron lacking time to spend time with her because of the taping schedules and auditions. There were a lot of witnesses during their fight, but Delilah didn't seem to care anymore. Taron invited her to come with him to a place where no one can hear them arguing and that's where things ended.

    The fifth is yet to be discussed, but it might have been the ultimate bad luck of all. Anyway, he finds it hard to believe that all of these are just coincidence. It's like all of these occurrences had been planned beforehand.

    "Taron?" He hears a female voice from outside the lavatory.

   "In here," Taron responds with absolutely no energy. "Don't...don't come here. I'll be right out."

    He presses the flush down then gets out of the bathroom, leaning on the walls as he walks back to his bed and entertain the woman who has called him. He turns to the door, and see a woman, in about her early thirties, with cat-eye glasses pushed up her red hair and a Macbook Air resting on her forearm. Taron rubs his watery eyes with the hem of his shirt and begin to recognise her as Ella or Elle Silver, his publicist. And she looks very displeased.

    "You really fucked up last night."

    Oh no. Elle is not the type to use profanity. In fact, she is completely against it. This is one of the rare cases where she's actually pissed enough to swear, and from here Taron knows that he really messed up this time. His heart begins to beat out of his chest and his throat getting dryer every second.

    But as much as he is frightened, he still tries to reply nonchalantly. "What did I do last night?" He asks, his palm on his head. He just can't remember anything that happened in the after-party he attended to. But he hopes inside that it's something that he can shrug off and ignore as if nothing ever happened. But by the looks of it, that might not be the case, taking from Elle's reaction and swearing.

    Elle places her laptop down on the bed, with the screen facing Taron and to his horror, he sees an article from a famous celebrity news website that says Kingsman star Taron Egerton breaks down in an award show after-party after break-up with actress and supermodel Delilah Heely.

    Oh, that name. Delilah Heely. It used to be music to his ears and now it's unnecessary background noise that he can't get rid of. He wishes that he can just choose what he can forget and what he cannot from last night. He wants to forget about all the awful things that Delilah had said to him, and remember that he might have got a little too fucked up last night, which would be such an odd memory, but at least he was conscious and knew what he was doing.

    The cursor is already pointed at the video underneath the article, and Elle taps the track pad to have the video playing. Taron badly wants to look away, but the back of his head tells him that he is going to need to see this to believe.

    The video shows him with two shots in his hand, raising both of them before drinking from one of the shot glasses. Some blond-haired lad swiped the other shot glass away from his hand, and when he tried to grab it from the guy, he raises it up and shakes his head on Taron. "No," he mouths, but Taron pushed the guy's shoulders like he's starting a fight. "My girlfriend broke up with me an hour ago. Let me have this!" He replied, slurring. Then he danced embarrassingly to the EDM playing in the background for four seconds before the video ends and shows the replay button Taron doesn't intend to click.

    Pissed, he slams the laptop shut and lean on the wooden headrest of the bed, crossing his arms. He forgets that he's still in the midst of a hangover, so his immediate actions shoots pain in his head once again and he winces whilst placing his middle fingers on his temples, groaning.

    "Prairie Oyster?" Elle offers as she expressionlessly watches Taron's hangover agony. Taron is reminded of the movie Heathers because of this.

    "Do they even have that in here?" Taron sounds a bit harsh, as if he finds the offer ridiculous, but it's his headache that gives him this tone of voice. Although, he looks like he's taking the pain out on Elle, she seems to understand him anyway since she had already witness this happen too many times. Taron getting drunk in parties. However, this time, someone caught a shot of him acting the way that would give just any viewers of the video second hand-embarrassment and cringe attacks.

    Elle walks towards the bed and sits beside Taron and the nightstand where the telephone rested. She, then, lifts the phone and dial zero to request for the hangover cure. "Yes, can you guys give us a glass of your best hangover cure? Okay. Perhaps, prairie oyster would do. Thank you very much!" She says before placing the phone down and hanging up. She faces Taron and nods. "Yeah, they might make you that hangover cure. Next time, don't order strong shots when you know that there are cameras everywhere."

    Sure, Taron had been chased by paparazzi before, but rarely. If you look in the internet, there's barely any photos of him captured by the paparazzi unless he's with Delilah or filming a movie. But he doesn't really get followed around on his own. So this situation really brings him to shock. That someone actually bothered whipping out their phone to videotape him and leak it on the internet for the entire world to see him fuck up. He wishes that he's back in the times where only very few people could recognise him, approach him and just tell him out of the blue 'Manners maketh man' before asking if he could take a photo with them. Unfortunately, no one could turn back the time, but he still wishes he can so that this nightmare would stop.

    And that's the fifth on the list of bad things that happened to him. No more, please, Taron thinks. He's getting tired of all the problems that's been hitting him here and there. He thought he had to deal with the break up only, but this added up to the things he's going to need to address.

    "Is there any way we can sue this website for leaking a video without my consent? And suing the person who took it, too?"

    "I think so," replies Elle. "But that's going to take a long, long process."

    Elle is cut off by the doorbell buzzing. She excitedly gets up and approach the door, perhaps thinking about how Taron will react to the taste of the classic hangover cure. She opens it and see a guy that is dressed like a typical doorman holding a glass, with a top hat to match his sky-blue marching band-like uniform. "Here's the prairie oyster that you requested," he says, and Elle nods.

    Elle digs on the pocket of her flowing casual dress and hand him the money before taking the glass and gently closing the door shut. Taron watches everything, confused but he still tries to follow through anyway. Everything just went so fast. First, he wakes up with a painful headache. Second, he's on the bathroom floor puking his guts out. Three, Elle barges in his hotel room to tell him that he messed up. Four, he watches the video and reads the article about him and felt mortified and angry. Five, Elle requests for prairie oyster from the hotel services. Six, the prairie oyster arrives and seven, closing his eyes and imagining that it is another liquor shot he has to conquer, he drinks it halfheartedly and looking disgusted as he swallows the hangover cure. He even gags a little bit.

    He places the glass on the nightstand and points at it. "That...is fucking horrible. I'm never getting drunk ever again." And Elle just laughs at him upon hearing his ridiculous promise. "What?"

    "Oh, Taron, how many times have you told me that and end up just doing the same mistake over and over again like you never learned?"

    He shrugs. "I'm heartbroken, aren't I? Of course, I'm not going to be in the right mind."

    "Really? So how do you explain the other times when you still had a girlfriend and ended up getting drunk at parties, hmm?"

    'When you still had a girlfriend'. That just stung Taron so hard. It's difficult for him to accept that Delilah and him are though. And it doesn't help that in less than twenty-four hours later, the whole world knows about it. He thought people would just figure it out slowly with the lack of photos of him and Delilah, and her deleting her Instagram photos of him or about him one by one, even unfollowing each other on all social media platforms.

    "Stop mentioning my ex-girlfriend, Elle. I don't need that from you right now."

    Elle chuckles. "Sorry. But really, Taron, you need to get yourself together. This isn't something you can shrug off and let die—" then she turns to Taron and look him straight in the eye "—this is something you are going to need to address."

    Taron looks devastated and angry at the same time. He's never used to addressing situations because he's never even had a situation to address. He's not problematic like the others. In fact, that's what his fans love about him. That's why he's scared his reputation is going to finally have a scratch on it. A scratch that somebody else made because they thought that it's their job to videotape him getting fucked up, as if it isn't such a normal thing to do especially after a break-up. Clearly, speaking out about the video is something that is definitely against his will. I was heartbroken. It's such a normal thing to do, he thinks to himself, beginning to mentally construct his statement in case gossip reporters start to shove their microphones on his lips and ask him questions about it the moment he steps out of this hotel building perhaps, three hours from now when he checks out.

    "That's not the only thing that I'd need to address." Taron says as he glances down at his phone and clicking the lock. His lockscreen only shows his dull wallpaper of him and Delilah when they were on vacation in Bahamas (which, by the way, is something that he's going to need to change sooner) and no missed calls nor texts from his girlfriend—ex girlfriend. He feels like he's the one who fucked up. That means he have to set his guard down and make the first move in trying to get back together with her.

    "Taron, I'm so sorry," Elle says, expressing sympathy as Taron just stares at his phone, awaiting for a ping that indicates that he's got a message. A message that came from Delilah, he hopes. "Does Byron know?"

    Byron Clarke is Taron's best friend since high school. Their friendship began on a science project they were paired up together on way back sophomore year. After hanging out in each other's houses trying to finish their work, it drew them closer together until they began hanging out even after the science project and eating lunch together, even hanging out at the game place called Gamestop after class. Until now they still haven't missed a thing about each other and still talk every single day, even if Byron is stuck in Wales and Taron is in London. The last thing they talked about was Byron's fight with his father, and him looking for a place to stay in London. Taron offered, but the plan is still tentative.

    "That fucker should have known by now," he replies. Of course, he would find out with all these media attention. And Taron is afraid he's going to get a sermon from Byron, since Byron is the type of guy that doesn't hit the brakes and just straight up tell Taron his extremely frank opinion, not caring whether it's something that would hurt him so much, just as long as it's best for him. For example, him telling Taron that Delilah sounded like a bad idea on their courting stage. Taron said he appreciated his input, but disregarded it. Byron was okay with it, "but don't say I didn't warn you," he reminded him as his final say towards their relationship. And he never said anything else during the year and a half-long period of relationship. He just let Taron release all his pent-up emotions whenever they get in a fight, maybe share a little bit of advice that Taron damn well knew were probably halfhearted.

    "Perhaps you should tell him what happened, still. Even if his words right after could kill you." Elle knows that Byron is someone awfully honest even though she's only met him thrice. Taron sometimes vent out to her whenever Byron would tell him something that he doesn't want to hear, after getting in a fight with him. Elle constantly reminds him that he's just trying to be his best friend, and that's what they usually do. "But let me remind you, Byron is very candid but he does know how to be sensitive. I'm sure he would know when to tell you off or just listen to your pain, much like what you do to him."

    "Yeah, I hope so. She's been bashing my ex-girlfriend way longer than I can remember."

• • •

    When Elle has left him alone with his phone and a half-drunken glass of prairie oyster on the nightstand, he rings Delilah, but he's sent straight to her voicemail. "Hey, it's Lilah. Please leave a message," it says. Taron is a bit glad to hear her voice, but it stings his heart knowing that he isn't the one she's talking to.

    But he's really tempted to say something. He's still hopeful even though he's already reminded that Delilah is the kind of person who, when she says she wants to break up with you, she's not turning back. It means she's had enough, and she's definitely had enough with Taron.

    He places his phone near his lips and begin to speak. "Hey, Lilah. If you receive this message, please call me," he says, but he damn well knows he isn't going to get a call back. Still, it's worth a shot. At least he made a move and tried instead of just assuming that she'll never acknowledge him anymore, which he already is right about.

    His phone begins to ring in his hands. Excited, he looks at the caller ID but instantly gets devastated when he finds out that it is Byron that's calling him, and not someone that he's been wanting to return his call. Still, he's going to need emotional support from his best friend, so this is kind of a good thing.

    He slides his finger sideways to answer the call. "Hey, Byron," he greets, unenthusiastic. "I bet you've already known."

    "Yeah, I have. How are you doing?"

    "Not great, of course. Man, I wish you were here so we can sit for a beer or two and just talk about how you were right about her all along," Taron replies, half-sarcastically. "Tell me you told me so."

    But Byron just laughs. "I don't want to. You need all the support that you can get, and I'm not going to shit on you now. Maybe in the near future when you are kind of okay. Also, lucky for you, I got the part. So we'll be hanging out very soon."

    Finally, Taron lightens up and smiles for the first time today. "Wait, really?"

    Byron has been telling Taron that he has auditioned for a minor role that is set to be filmed in London, partly as a part of his excuse to get out of Wales. Byron is just starting his acting career and Taron has been giving him full-on support since he announced that he's already going on theater workshops. Taron has even invited him to study acting officially, most preferably in RADA and Byron told him that it's already in the pipeline, although not now. He's still saving up. He doubts that his father will support him because they think that it's sheer luck Taron became recognised. But Taron worked thrice as hard for it; that's the reality. The success is only the tip of the iceberg.

    "I'm going to London, Taron." Taron can feel Byron's smile with the way he says it.

    "You're more than welcome to. When's the filming going to be?"

    "About a week from now. I hope you got your whole place tidied up before I get there. I'm not going to sleep on the ruins," he jokes, still, even though he knows that Taron is already a changed man that doesn't leave the house without it being spotless, much like him. He's always wanted him to be like that. "The only thing you need to do right now is to hold on. Or, call me if you want to cry, man. I'm always here and I won't judge."

    Taron chuckles. "That sounds a lot like bullshit to me, Byron."

    After they catch up for almost an hour, the call is interrupted by another phone call that made Taron jump. It turns out, it's just his manager, so Taron excuses himself from Byron and tell him that his manager is calling before he hangs up.

    "Hello?" Taron answers his manager's call.

    "I've got you four roles to audition to and I think you're going to like it. It might even cheer you up."

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER THREE

[greyofjakku]

In a Room Set Afire by Ash and Crimson

As requested by a couple people, I️ did a thing and wrote a smut version of the throne room scene. Enjoy & plz remember that English is NOT my first language. Also on Ao3 💜💜💜💜

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Milliseconds before the explosion, Rey’s connection with the Force rears its head with a preternatural knowledge of what is coming.

Miniscule hairs raise along her arms. Static electricity fills the air, making her teeth buzz and bones groan.

A metallic tang, silver and biting, licks at her mouth, makes it taste like anger and burning things.

It is too late.

A flash of light, so brilliant it stains the retina of her eyes with starbursts, echoes across the room, the galaxy, and whatever fated thing connects their damaged souls. A cacophonous resonance that is equal parts thunder and lightning - the tumultuous roar of waves on the ocean and the clash of a spitting red blade and its ancient blue twin.

She’s thrown backwards in its fury, and she feels her back collide with one of those arching pillars, hard.

And then only grey.

Grey everywhere. Mist and smoke and shadows and blood. Light and Dark. Grey .

Then -

Light filtering through smoke, hazy in its diaphanous opulence, thick and choking.

Scattered embers, floating by, sparks of flame and heat. Pinpricks of light in the after, like ever-burning stars.

Rey first registers pain. She rates it, categorizes it, analyzing.

It travels up her back, starting low. Rey guesses a deep, vivid cerise colors where she impacted, sinking deep into the tissue.

It hurts, Maker it hurts, but it’s nothing she hasn’t handled before.

She’s had worse.

Taking stock of the rest of her body, a habit from days long past spent in the sweltering sun, jagged landscapes, and gritty sand, she is surprised to find no other afflictions awaiting her attention excepting a piercing ringing in her ears.

She tries to sit up, but the pushing on her back makes her collapse again in vain. A pained cry leaves her ash-dusted lips, angry tears filling her burning eyes.

She takes a deep breath, about to roll onto her side, when her ears detect something amongst the continuous ringing.

The sound of shifting in rubble, a low, but nevertheless audible groan.

She feels when he comes to completely, the tether between them snapping to attention, awakening.

Much to her displeasure, she senses him do a bodily check of himself, just like she does.

Just like she does.

She wonders what other nasty habits they have, both detests and relishes the very thought that this man shared something (many things?) in common with her.

There’s nothing wrong with him - she already knows this and suspects he does too. He has to also know what exactly she is feeling at this very moment, the pain she harbours in her rough, scavenger’s body.

She cannot make out much, her eyes burning with smoke, but she does see the telltale black form of him from across the room.

He stands quicker than expected, scanning the wreckage around him.

For his lightsaber, Rey thinks, but he ignores the black hilted weapon on the ground, the silver chrome pieces of the one they just destroyed near to it.

Over the bond, she feels panic, deep and gripping, choking him with a band-iron fist.

He’s looking for her, she realizes.

Wondering why he doesn’t just tug on their bond, she realizes: all he can feel is her pain, encompassing, nothing more.

I’m here.

She’s not sure why she says it, but she tugs at the starlit bond like it is a thread between them, pulling him towards her.

His eyes do the rest of the work, moving to her side with swift but sure steps.

Initially, she was sure he would strike her down himself, or leave her to the ruin of the throne room.

But now she knows he would never.

She does not like the thought.

Then he’s next to her, wiping her face free of soot, leather gloves cool against her kyberfire-tinged cheeks.

You’re burning, he tells her, and she is unsure as to his meaning.

So are you, she replies anyways.

Biting the glove off his right hand with his teeth, he lifts a hand to her temple, caressing almost.

It is not a touch meant for pleasure, but purpose.

He takes her pain, drinks it like some heady, rich wine, a delicacy on his flickering snake’s tongue.

It changes within him, like he is some type of living power converter. Makes him stronger, gives him strength instead of weakening.

Her back no longer hurts, and so she sits up on her elbows, the world swimming for a moment as she adjusts.

Glancing upwards at where he is still crouched above her, she swallows with a dry throat.

The lack of pain leaves Rey unsure.

Her pain had kept her grounded, sure of something. Now her emotions run rampant.

Through pain I gain strength, Rey thinks to him. Isn’t that what your stupid code says?

A small flicker on his lips, perhaps amusement, perhaps chastisement.

Passion, comes his voice in her head. And that is the way of the Sith, of which I am not apart of. That is what I want to leave behind.

They hold each other’s gazes openly, dark, pupils blown.

Perhaps it is the oxygen-depleted air, the smoky haze, the adrenaline in the both of them.

Perhaps it is something else.Either way, she meets him halfway as their mouths slot over one another.

There is none of the gentle caresses of the force bond, none of the hesitance, the bated breath.

Instead, it’s tongues and teeth and heat.

Hair pulling, nails scraping, ripping clothes down the middle until they hang by mere threads to their flushed bodies.

It’s a battle, not a kiss, yet still the same fight they always find themselves resigned to.

Soon enough, he is nudging her slick thighs apart with a knee, pinning her to the ground with his bare right hand around her neck.

He leans down to rip another kiss from her raw lips, and she pulls him down so that he is hovering just above her.

He is all she can see, consuming her sight, expansive skin and silvery-pink scars and that red sinner’s mouth.

His gloved left hand trails through her viscid heat, finds her more than ready for him.

His eyes are dark, smug, reeking of triumph.

“Join me,” he breathes into her skin, the words red-hot and deliciously soft.

“N-”

The breath leaves both their lungs as he slides into her.

The bond flares, and they experience the other in ways entirely new. She can feel her slick heat wrapped around him, just as he can feel himself pulsing inside of her.

“Move,” Rey growls, commands , and he squeezes her neck warningly in response, his hips snapping into her simultaneously.

The feeling, doubled by their bond, has Rey almost crying out. She bites down hard on her swollen lower lip instead, containing it.

Kylo watches, staring down at her with such a dark, predatory intensity that she finds herself growing slick all over again.

“Join me,” he repeats, teeth gritted and lips pulled back into a fierce sneer.

“No,” Rey resists, opening her legs farther to his onslaught, wrapping them around his lower waist.

“Leave it behind,” he snarls into her ear, hitting a particular spot that has Rey arching against him, keening.

Her protests are weaker now, stilted rejections on single, short breaths.

“Leave it!”

“I won’t,” Rey groans out, fingernails digging into his biceps, breaking skin.

“None of it matters - it doesn’t matter,” he growls around thrusts, one hand still collaring her, the other supporting her back.

His leather gloves slide over where Rey knows she must be bruised from her collision with the pillar, but she hardly cares. She knows she will have many more bruises once the night is over.

“Say it,” he hisses in her ear, teeth gritted, hips snapping again and again and again.

She does not respond this time, eyes squeezed tightly shut as he hits that singular place inside that has her tensing and releasing a single wet sob of pleasure.

“Rey,” he seethes, seeking an answer, a concession of her pride and being.

Suddenly, the force is all around them, crystal clear and thrumming.

He is drawing on it, having it caress places on her, in her, that has her sobbing louder.

“It doesn’t matter,” she finally wails, one hand pulling viciously at his obsidian locks as if to cause him pain for making her agree, her legs sliding up and down his sweat-slicked back as he thrusts into her over and over.

“Again.”

“It-,” she chokes on a gasp. “It doesn’t matter.”

Her eyes squeeze shut once more, feeling a molten burn in her belly that hastens with each passing moment.

The bond crescendos, builds until they are both teetering on the edge of falling, of being consumed.

“Let go,” Kylo commands, growls darkly. His words an exact mirror of his desperate yells earlier.

And, this time, she does.

The explosion that lights them both is larger than that of the lightsaber’s, but is inside the cradle of their heads, their very souls. Both are blinded by the sheer intensity.

They are left panting and breathless, but finally whole through the embrace of the force in a room set afire by ash and crimson.

[grief-is-a-noun]

ode to the ex-boyfriend

I’ve never written about jake before, in a manner where i really gave myself time to sort out the way that i feel about him. When I broke up with him I was the happiest girl on the planet. I was finally free. Free from all his lies, his manipulative tendencies, his apparent and utterly dominant abuse. I don’t care what anyone says. I don’t care what anyone thinks that they know. He told me once he loved me so much because i was the only one who really knew him. I was the only one who actually saw him for who he was and he was right. I was the only one that saw him for the monster that he really is. He said I was the only person he didn’t have a surfaced relationship with. I’m sure he held onto me because it was exhausting being the fake “mr. nice guy”. He takes after his father. I remember coming over one weekend all three days (friday,saturday, and sunday) and his parents were fighting. I asked jake if everything was okay and he said his father is “irritated” at his mother because she suggested that he should’ve taken a different tone when speaking to the technical support guy on the phone. Can you believe that shit? Like ok, it doesn’t matter that there are children being sex trafficked, people who are homeless, injustice happening everywhere in the world, i’m going to waste my energy on being upset at my wife because my life is all about fucking me and how irate i get once i’m slightly inconvenienced. Not like I believe in the bible or anything that is the pinnacle calling for living a selfless life. I believe jakes mother has been mentally abused by mr. mcfaul her entire life, but she feels obligated toward him because in some cynical dark way she contributes her faith to him. In her mind, perhaps, she believes he is the one that kept her aligned with God. she needs to give herself more credit. Mr. mcfaul was always a nice man to me, he never did anything to hurt me but he failed to teach his son the proper way to take care of a woman and for that a part of me resents him. I honestly feel bad for him because when I look at him I see a man who doesn’t know how to emotionally connect with his children and never learned his lessons, always heading for complacency. Instead he instilled fear in his children that resulted in them becoming judgemental perfectionists. a lost cause, if you will. 

I wrote previously that i was the happiest girl in the world when i broke up with jake and i was. No more comments about how we were going to move to idaho or how he would rather me stay home with the kids and be a housewife than pursue a degree. I couldn’t bask in the fact that I am an educated woman with an actual functioning brain. Don’t get me wrong, there is NO hate for housewives here, women should be able to choose whatever life they want to live, however, jake started our relationship with the will to change me. That's why I wholeheartedly believe I didn't break his heart, I broke his pride. Who am I kidding, I'm too fiercely independent to just be a housewife. I can simultaneously be a housewife, a good mom, and a working woman. I can contribute because I have always been able to handle my shit, he didn’t want to see it like that because my independence was a threat, it meant a lack of dependence on him. Without dependence, it is easy to leave, or so he thought. It's funny how that fear played into our relationship. He always “bragged” about the fact that he had broken up with every girl he had ever been with and although i did not go into this relationship planning on leaving him, I know subconsciously my mind was like “bet”. I can be toxic like that. He was sweet at first, he did strive to take care of me but he got too comfortable with my eagerness to forgive him until he finally reached a point where he didn’t care anymore. I tried everything, i sought out a mentor for him, i booked us counseling sessions, i fucking tried. Even though I was unhappy I held onto the good. I do that. I fight for the reason why I started. I hold onto the good for as long as I can and then when i cannot psychologically handle it anymore I hone in on all the bad shit and that’s what makes it so easy to leave.

I could probably write a whole novel on the abusive things he did. How he made me feel crazy for believing his girl best friend had feelings for him even though she openly admitted that she did in the past. I knew they were still there. How he held a secret meeting with her while we were dating to apologize on my behalf for how crazy my accusations were and that he wanted to get the “full story” on how I approached her because we both had two very different versions of what happened. How when i found out months later that this meeting occurred he shut me down and told me i had no right to be upset at him because it was in the past and he wouldn't do something like that now. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?! I should have dumped him right then and there. My only regret is not leaving his ass sooner. I still remember the apathetic tone he took with me outside that fucking in n out in Westlake. I've written before how I was like a robot to him and he just shut my emotions on and off when he pleased. He negated any feeling I had that posed to him as an inconvenience and how I feel about him is the closest thing I've ever felt to hate. Jake, you made me feel crazy. Ironically enough though not two months after we broke up is when he finally apologized to me because said girl best friend tried to get at him, again. I knew he didn’t like her in that way, jake likes girls with at least half a brain and to be honest it would be more interesting talking to a door knob than participating in a conversation with her. But it wasn’t about the way she felt. It was about the way she looked at me when he wasn’t looking. How i was uncomfortable that she would always try to brush up next to him or take my seat by his side and everyone was secretly rooting for them. Jake, you moved to idaho to get over me and start over and she fucking moved there too. God, a part of me hopes you guys get married. She's too mindless to receive any of your abuse, she will do whatever you say without a fight and utmost willingness. But I know you don’t like that, I know you prefer a fight because it makes you feel powerful, having someone you can control. I’m just thankful I recognized this, and made it out alive.

Here’s the thing about assholes, it's no secret i don’t like the nicest men if i do i get bored and then leave. Jared was an outstanding guy, he met the love of his life after i broke up with him and we check in with each other once a year or so. I have him and his girlfriend on Instagram and I'll like or comment on their pictures. I sometimes DM his girlfriend, she replies to my stories or mine to hers. Jared talks to my brother a couple times a month too. My dad and brother both really miss him. I lived with Jared for a time and he with me. We were family. The dynamic we have created is healthy and I'm happy for him. Matt on the other hand, definitely resents me. He goes through stages of blocking me then unblocking me but i don’t really care. I wrote him  a letter apologizing back in 2017 and we are on ok terms. I know it's his girlfriend that doesn’t want us to be friends but I support that. I get it. He has been dating her for almost three years and I really do hope they get married. My first love has been the hardest to get on good terms with, it took 5 years. The last time I talked to Kyle was actually a few days ago. I had a question to ask him and he responded but I never texted him back. I don’t know why I’m like this. Last time I saw him was on Labor Day when he, Jadyn, and I all went to the beach after he got off work. We talked about the ocean, music, snowboarding, surfing, you know, miniscule bullshit. It was that night I finally realized I was over him. I don’t talk about him much anymore, he was my first love, that is all i have to say. We are strangers to each other now and I can only hope he likes the person he has become but I don’t know him anymore. The boy I loved is gone. It took five years of rumors among others and silence between us for me to realize we are adults, we are different people. I know we will never be friends but it’s cool that we are cordial. I will go on counting him as the first love of my life, he will go on counting me as his biggest regret, and for both, I am not sorry. Well where was I? Oh that's right, assholes. You see, Jake is the kind of asshole you want to run from. Hop on a plane and fly a million miles away. Logan is the kind of asshole you can empathize with. Jake hasn’t been through one difficult thing in his life. He is almost 26, still living with his parents (now living with them in a different state), never finished school, too prideful to put in the work, and still to this day, always taking the easy way out. He hated the fact that i made more money than him, that i paid for most (if not all) of our dinners and trips, that i had direction in my life and he didn’t. He resented me for taking care of him but I still did it anyways. That’s when you do when you’re in a relationship, it's a team effort, 50/50. I don’t see it any other way. Jake hated people with trauma or emotions. He couldn’t empathize with them. He wanted to just turn away any hardship because it made him feel uncomfortable. He hated things that challenged him, hated what he didn’t understand. This is why Jake is the bad kind of asshole. Then you have someone like Logan. Logan is confused, as we all are. And although he doesn’t like the thought of being vulnerable there’s layers to that. Reasons why. He has depth. The difference here is that when my nana died and i asked jake to leave “work” (which was him sitting at his fucking computer practicing coding or playing video games) he said he didn’t want too, on god. Added that he didn’t get why i was so sad over my nana dying when we weren’t even that “close.” i think that's when i began to resent him, took me way too fucking long. Jake didn’t want to care about me, hell, he didn’t even listen to me. If he had, he would have known my nana left everything to me and she always wrote that I was her favorite grandchild. If I really needed Logan, I knew he would be there for me. Hell, I called him in the middle of the night and asked him to pick me up in the morning to give me a ride to simi and he didn't even ask why, he just came. Not only that but he was dropping me off at a protest and the march wasn’t something he believed in, as beneficial to society, but he still took me there anyways. I know that, even now, if something really bad ever happened to me and I asked Logan to be there, he would. That is a reflection of his character that goes far beyond circumstance. I know i'm not special, I believe he’d do that for anyone he cares about because he is a good person. So ya, i put up with his impulsive petty bullshit because we all have impulsive and petty bullshit we do. However, when worst comes to worst and you're really in the thick of it, you need people that you know you can always count on. I might’ve lost that side of Logan because of my mistakes. I know he played a role in how badly things ended between us which he apologized for. I can be too sensitive sometimes and I think my lack of understanding of him fogged my judgement, actually I know it did. I mean, fuck, all three of us could’ve played a healthier role in that situation. After I broke up with Jake he’d ask me to get coffee or go out to lunch every once in a while and I agreed (why? Couldn’t tell you). I used to just cry about the whole situation with Logan and it made Jake so angry. He would tell me he hated the way I cared so much about him. How i never cried over him like that and didn’t understand why losing Logan hurt so bad. Well, it hurt so bad because I was subconsciously lying to myself about the fact that I was in love with him; but even looking beyond the way I felt it hurt so much because Logan is a one in a million kind of person, Jake is just your everyday plain old asshole. My god do I hope that he changes. He definitely needs to seek therapy before entering another relationship, I really just want what's best for him. 

So, ode to the ex boyfriend. I know, not your typical 14 lined, iambic pentameter, sonnet. But here is to the man that wouldn’t kiss me when i took him to new york for my birthday because he wanted me to be just as miserable as he was (he hated cities), who told me it was my obligation to stay with him after i left because i slept with him and that meant we were already married, who told me i couldn’t pray over him because i didn’t grow up in the ideal Christian home, (my family is fucked but at least we are real, i love them) the man who lied to me, the man who went behind my back, the man who made me want to so desperately drive my car off the road. To the man who made me reach my breaking point. realizing our relationship was a choice of life or death, here’s to him.

 I’m sorry i didn’t love you and i’m sorry i didn’t leave you sooner. I’m sorry i bought into your comfortability with putting a fake persona into the world and made our life together look perfect on instagram. I'm sorry it took me leaving you in order for you to buy a ring and by that time it was too late. I'm sorry that if we did get married and our relationship got worse I would've killed myself before I would've left you. I’m sorry I don’t believe in divorce. The bones in my body don’t ever ache for vengeance because I simply do not care enough. I’m sorry that you thought I was a fighter. I’m sorry because I'm simultaneously not sorry at all. I wish you the very best and if there is one thing I ask of you, it's that you don’t treat the next girl you pursue the way you treated me. Listen to her. Love her. Put her before yourself. Allow her to love herself for who she wants to be, not who you want to make her. I’m glad I broke myself, then broke you, in hopes you’d learn not to break her one day. Good luck to you.