#Goodbye Hand Goodbye Gordon

[onmyyan]

Ain't no sunshine

Chapter 4

A/n: love this series, fem reader, yandere themes, platonic yandere Batfamily

Taglist: @uniquecutie-puffs @starsdotalk @ghostdoodlen @nickey-diano @76lonelyspoons @m3vl0vesu @uknowimdumb

"What's this about Gordon?" Damian asks after arriving in the dining room, he was perplexed by her message, what on earth would they need to speak about you of all people?

"(Y/n) moved out." Barbara says biting the bullet.

There was a moment of silence as her words registered before chaos broke out.

"What do you mean moved out?" Dick asks putting down the bagel he was eating his eyes held disbelief, "I mean I just checked her room and she's gone." Barbara says making his stomach lurch.

"We missed her birthday." Tim speaks suddenly realizing, his mind working a mile a minute. Jason curses under his breath at the revelation, how could he be such an idiot?

"You're wrong she wouldn't leave like that." Dick shook his head, the thought of you simply disappearing sent a wave of deep-seated unease through the family, and something else, something much darker had been born in that moment within each of them.

"Alfred confirmed it." Barbara says softly trying not to upset Dick further than he was.

Cass stood still before signing, "How could we not have noticed?"

Damian having enough of the conversation pulled out his phone calling your number, only to be met with the same answer Barbara got when she tried, his brows furrowed as the automated voice told him the number was disconnected. "Her phone's off." He speaks a pit forming in his stomach,

The Manor was quieter than usual.

That's the first thing Bruce notices when he wakes up that morning, an almost empty quiet filled the halls as he went from his bedroom to the study, he couldn't put his finger on what it was exactly and this bothered him to no end.

Alfred stood diligently by the marble counter top waiting for Bruce's instructions, "Good morning Alfred."

"Master Bruce." Alfred greeted him simply, rather curt for the old man, and Bruce notices this immediately, his mind racing on what he could have done to upset the man. "Is something wrong Alfred?"

"To be the world's greatest detective you can be incredibly dense." Alfred served him his coffee without another word and made Bruce feel like a child being scolded for something.

It wasn't until he walked by your room did his senses go off, it was much too quiet in there, knocking softly he found the door opening from the slightest touch. Alarm bells immediately start going off at just how empty it is, how void of life. He rushed downstairs, searching for Alfred to question him, when he saw his whole family gathered in the dining room.

They stare at him, all with that deer in a headlight look, "What?" He asks knowing something was up.

"(Y/n)'s gone." Dick speaks up, biting at his thumb, "And we missed her birthday." Jason adds on his guilt making his shoulders slump inward.

Bruce looks over to Alfred as if to confirm what he was told, the older man simply nods.

Meanwhile on the other side of Gotham, you're completely unaware of the chaos your absence is causing. Too busy enjoying your new life.

Bruce went to the cave immediately, checking the cameras for your form, he searched through a week of footage before he saw your graceful exit from the manor. A week. A fucking week you'd been gone and your own father hadn't noticed.

Bruce had felt like a true failure only a handful of times in his life, losing Jason, and now, you.

Only this time there was no Joker to blame, it was him. His fault his daughter felt the need to disappear without so much as a goodbye. The years of ignoring your presence simply because you were his 'easy child' the one he never had to worry about, the one who never made waves, come crashing down upon him, he rests his head on his hands, eyes never leaving the screen. "What have I done?" He speaks lowly, mind reeling from the shame of his inaction.

His blue eyes hardened at the sight of you on the screen, he could fix this, couldn't he? He just needed a second chance, he'd show you the love you deserved, the nurturing you needed, he didn't care that you were a legal adult now, (he winces at the thought of forgetting such an important birthday, he'd throw you the party of all parties once he got you home, he swore it.) you were his daughter, his youngest daughter, and you needed him no matter what you thought.

Dick Grayson prided himself on many things, one of which being his bond with his family, so to be faced with the reality that he wasn't the best big brother around, kind of shatters him. He refused to accept the fact that his, along with everyone else's actions, lead to your choice to abandon them, instead he reasoned, you were feeling rebellious, youthful energy and all that, he was sure once you got this out of your system you'd be right back where you belonged. Where he could keep an eye on you, a proper eye this time.

Jason fumes silent, pacing the kitchen, he feels like a cat is clawing at his skin from the inside, unable to do anything with his pent up frustration he grips the counter top hard enough for his knuckles to turn white. He hated himself right now, hated how garbage he felt, you were only eighteen, all on your lonesome in a city like Gotham? It was enough to set the hairs on his neck on edge.

Tim was busy on his tablet, he was already searching the city's CCTV cameras for any trace of you, his fingers working so fast they cramped, sweat drips down his brow as he searched, unable to tear himself away from his task. He felt maybe just maybe if he found you, he could begin to make up for how shitty he'd treated you, begin to open up to you in the way you'd always wanted. He needed to find you, and based on the usually composed family's obvious panic, it needed to be fast.

Barbara busied herself with rummaging through your empty room for anything she could use to find you, if she just had the chance to explain herself, she's sure you'd understand, sure you'd look at her with that expression you had when you were younger, like she was your personal hero.

Cassandra finds herself staring out at the distant view of Gotham, her hands twitching at her sides as she struggles not to take action, sure she didn't have a bond with you like she did with the others but she still cared for you, from a distance, she felt it was safer as you were the only civilian in the family. A choice she thinks now was a mistake. Maybe if she'd let her walls down a little more, you'd have confided in her instead of leaving.

Damian, in his rage, wasted no time heading to the cave to suit up, there he found his Father, still leaning over the computer table. "What are you doing?" Bruce asks barley looking away from the screen. "What do you think? Going to find that idiot before she gets herself killed." He seethes yanking on his tactical gloves.

"Damian -"

"How dare she leave us- we are a family." He spits the word out like it's a curse, "You don't leave your family." He reiterates slamming his hands into the table holding various gadgets. "I'm going to find that fool and drag her back here." He promised.

"Just hold on for a moment." Bruce stands walking over to his son to put a comforting hand on his shoulder, "We have no idea where she is, let us do some recon. Tim will find her address in no time, if she's still in Gotham we'll find her within the week."

Damian hesitantly agreed to his father's reasoning.

It takes them a week to find you, you were very good at hiding your tracks, using only cash, staying in shady areas because they weren't monitored, it's only when you post a selfie with some new friends do they lock your location down.

Tim took five minutes to himself to stare at the photo before alerting the family, he found it after all, he felt entitled to it, to the joy on your face, the other people in the picture made it easier to find you, first he found their names, then their addresses and used that along with the small bits of background he could see to triangulate your new address.

He'd never seen that look on your face, it was a casual cocky sort of grin, one that said you were genuinely enjoying yourself. He couldn't fathom how you were so happy without them, it sort of hurt his feelings, but at the same time he needed to see more of that smile, see what other expressions you made, he'd only ever seen that sad dejected look on your face, he huffs to himself, saving the picture for himself before sending the info to the group chat.

Bruce decided to let one of his kids do the interacting with you, feeling too ashamed to face you yet, he sends Dick, knowing you once looked up to him.

You're three hours into a horror movie marathon, courtesy of the box TV you stole off the back of a moving truck, when someone knocks at your door.

You don't pause the movie, using it as cover to tip toe towards the door, sure it was still early in the night, but everything was dangerous in Gotham.

You don't say a word, sneakily looking through the grimey peephole all you can make out is a tall dark haired man.

He knocks again causing you to flinch. Swiping knife out the drawer, you hide it behind your back before swinging open the door expecting the people you'd stolen the TV from or maybe one of the thugs you'd beaten black and blue, not Dick Grayson.

"Hey little bird." He greets like an old time friend, not the man who'd ignored you your entire relationship.

"How the fuck- what are you doing here?" You sigh revealing the knife as you rest your hand on your hip, exasperated by his mere presence. He eyes the knife before laughing, "I like the energy, good call living in this neighborhood." He invites himself inside, scrutinizing your apartment, a deep sigh leaving his lips, "You shouldn't be living like this-"

"Hold the fuck on." You point the knife at him accusingly, "You didn't know I existed a week ago, now you barge into my home," you emphasize with another point, "shit all over it and start lecturing me about how I should live?" You stare at him like he's grown another head before laughing, he friend stepping closer, "I'm ...I'm sorry, I know I forgot your birthday - we forgot, but you didn't need to run away-"

"I didn't run from shit." Crossing your arms, "I'm an adult, I moved out." You say pointedly.

"Be that as it may- you should have said something, do you have any idea how worried we've been?" He pleads, brows furrowed, "I know you're mad, you've every right to be, but this isn't safe." He gestures to your apartment. "I walked past a drug deal on the way up here ya know." He chides like he's scolding s child.

"Come back to the manor." He says softly, stepping closer once more, until he could touch your shoulder, "no need to leave the nest so soon." You stare at his hand, then him, before pointing the knife at him, your hand steady,

"Get the fuck outta my house."

Dick leaves reluctantly, he was determined to bring you home, thought you'd jump in his arms for a hug once he showed up, but you didn't, you looked at him with disgust, anger, and a hint of fear, he hated it. He wanted you to look up at him like the big brother he was, not like your enemy.

You're panting after the encounter, knife clattering to the ground, you follow shortly after, collapsing as your mind tried to process the whirlwind of emotions coursing through you.

It was a storm, so you latched on to the one feeling that would anchor you, rage.

You don't sleep that night. And it's a good thing because Damian is breaking through your window lock like it was the easiest thing, he enters your home, face deadset in a glare. "You left the manor for this shit hole?" He almost laughs, his hand on his sword makes you incredibly nervous. "What's it matter to you? Thought you'd be thrilled." You roll your eyes, too exhausted to deal with another one of them in such a short time period.

"You've disrupted the natural flow in the manor with this little stunt." He seethes, "I'm going to restore it." He states as if speaking a fact. "How prey tell do you intend on doing that, you massive twat?" He simply smirks before looking behind you, you turn around and see Jason leaning against the wall, his red hood mask on, obstructing his facial expression, making him all the more unnerving.

"You're a long way from home." Jason says kicking off the wall, moving to hover behind you, "Why are you here?! Okay I'm officially over this reunion, out." You point to the window they entered from.

"Oh we're leaving, just not without you." Jason chimes up his hand hovering over his guns, fingers twitching.

To your defense, you did try and run, but it was no use, they were on you faster than you could process, a sweet smelling cloth is pressed to your mouth, and as much as you fight it, eventually you need to breathe, it takes one good inhale for the chloroform to kick in, you slump in someone's hold you're unsure of which one and your world fades to black.

I

[superprofesh]

The Five Times Colt Seavers Almost Kisses You (and the One Time He Does) — Part 6 (Final)

Pairing: Colt Seavers x reader

Description: The one time Colt Seavers kisses you — or, rather, the first time.

Rating: T

Word Count: 4.6k

Tag List: @strangedeerconnoisseur, @icantwaittoliveandlearn, @moonlightandstarshimmer, @chemococktailonthehouse, @1word (sending directly to the rest because Tumblr isn't cooperating)

Author’s Note: Well, folks, we've come to the end of this fic, and I hope it's everything you've all been waiting for. I can't express how much your kind words and amazing feedback has meant to me, and it has truly shaped this fic in more ways than you know. I'm really going to miss writing this fic, soooo........ if y'all are interested in a little epilogue, I'm up for that ;) Thank you all, and I hope you enjoy!!

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Colt can’t get out of the camera crew’s station fast enough. He’s been searching for you all morning, but Holly finally pressed a note in his hand, telling him that you asked her to pass it on to him. He instantly searches for a quiet place where he can read your note, dreading what it might say.

Yesterday shook him up, in more ways than one. Staring down the headlights of a train while Elijah Gordon pushed him to stay a few more seconds was terrifying even for him. Seeing you engage in a showdown with Gordon himself in front of the entire crew was so completely unexpected and selfless that he hasn’t been able to get it out of his mind. No one has ever stood up for him like that.

The more he’s thought it over, the more he’s realized that he’s been blind. Blind to your feelings, blind to your sincerity, blind to the fact that he’s been on the verge of his sweetest dream come true. He’s been pushing you away because he thought he wasn’t good enough for you, but after what happened yesterday, he’s starting to realize that doesn’t matter.

He keeps remembering the look in your eyes when you were in the tent together. The gentle way your fingertips stroked his hair, the soft skin of your neck against his lips, the way you held him as if he were designed to fit in your arms. If your fierceness in defending him didn’t convince him that he needed to wake up and confess his love for you, the heated look in your eyes did. His plan upon finding you has been to simply pour out his heart and see if you’re still willing to accept him after everything that’s happened.

Colt finally finds an empty bench a few stations down from the camera crew, and he unfolds your note carefully. A gentle smile crosses his lips when he sees you’ve scribbled it by hand, your artistic handwriting scrawled in green ink across a piece of office paper. The smile slowly fades, though, as he scans the contents of your letter.

Dear Colt,

I’m sorry to leave without saying goodbye, but I figured we’ve already said a lot of things that are more important than goodbyes. I want you to know that I’m not leaving because you hurt me or because I’m angry with you. I just think it’s best this way, for both of us.

I quit my job last night as Gordon’s set director. After everything that’s happened, I just can’t work for him. I’ve already had a few offers back in L.A., so I’ll be fine. I wish you the best as you finish the movie. You really are the best stuntman in the business, and I hope you stay safe.

I’ve already told you most of what I feel, so I won’t beat a dead horse any more. Still, in case I haven’t told you enough, I want you to know that the time I’ve spent with you has been the happiest I’ve had in a long time. I don’t know why you’re so dead-set on believing you’re not good enough for me. That thought has never entered my mind and never will. You’re the best person I know. When I look back on my memories of love, I will always think of you. Whatever you think you’d be holding me back from, it doesn’t matter to me half as much as you do. Please believe that.

I wish you all the best, and I hope one day our paths might cross again. Until then, thumbs up and happy landings.

Colt squeezes his eyes shut once he’s finished reading the letter, fighting the urge to crumple the piece of paper into a ball. How could you have been so stupid? his inner monologue chides him. How could you not have recognized unconditional love when it was staring you in the face?

The memory of your touch hits him like a knockout punch. Suddenly, every moment the two of you have shared comes back to him in excruciating detail. Smudging paint on each other’s faces. Walking you back to your hotel room. Flirting with you at the club. The look in your eyes when you ran to him after the train stunt. Your hands on his face, in his hair.

Setting his jaw, Colt glances at his watch. 7:42 AM. If he can figure out where you’re leaving from, he can catch you in time. There are a lot of things he needs to say before it’s too late, and now, for the first time, he’s ready to say them.

He folds the paper, tucks it into his pocket, and starts running.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You grip your steering wheel with white-knuckled hands. The sun has already risen over the mountains in the distance, but the beauty of the landscape is the furthest thing from your mind.

You can’t believe you actually left. You’ve never quit a job before, especially one as high-profile as this one. But you just couldn’t take it. You couldn’t work for someone who would so carelessly risk the life of one of their employees. Especially when you happen to be in love with that employee.

You haven’t told anyone but Holly (and Gordon, of course), and she understood. She also promised to pass along your note to Colt.

Writing that note is the most difficult thing you’ve ever done. You wrote eight versions of it before settling on the one you passed to Holly. The most painful part was knowing that that note may be the last time you ever communicate with Colt. Saying exactly the right thing was vital, and you finally felt satisfied with the ninth version, which included a lot less poetic verse and a lot more explanations of why you were really leaving.

The airport is looming on the horizon, and a wave of emotion sweeps over you, biting at the backs of your eyes. What was the point of knowing him if this is how it has to end?

You can’t stop replaying your memories with him as you pull closer to the airport parking lot. Things started out so simple and easy between the two of you — making each other laugh, sitting together at lunch, cheering on each other’s projects — but once the tension between you started heating up, maintaining a friendship has seemed almost impossible. You thought you could handle it, but it turns out you’re not strong enough to face Colt every day if you can’t express your love for him openly.

You pull into a parking space, facing the vast grassy field that leads to the plane runway. A passenger jet soars into the air, leaving a trail of jet stream behind. You’ll be aboard one of those planes within the hour, and maybe when you get to L.A., you can leave all your sorrows behind you.

You’re still trying to muster the strength to climb out of the car and drag your suitcase to the airport, when something… odd catches your eye. On the busy street leading up to the airport entrance, a vehicle is moving too fast to be driven by a normal person. The truck rounds the corner to fly up the airport drive at top speed, and your heart constricts.

That’s Colt’s truck.

All your attention is suddenly laser-focused on that familiar GMC pickup, and before you know what you’re doing, you’ve leaped out of your car and started running as fast as you can towards the driveway. A few seconds later, Colt’s truck pulls to a stop on the side of the drive, and he jumps out without even bothering to turn the truck off.

The fifteen seconds it takes you to get halfway across the grassy field feels like an eternity, and by the time you’re halfway, Colt has already cleared the distance. He sweeps you into his arms, holding you off the ground as you try to catch your breath, completely overwhelmed by this grand gesture.

He came for me. He couldn’t let me leave without saying goodbye. It’s not over yet.

You’re content to stay like that, suspended off the ground and feeling his heartbeat pound against your chest, but Colt carefully sets you back on your feet and holds you at arm’s length. His face is a jumble of a thousand emotions, more than you’ve ever seen from him in all the time you’ve known him. He’s breathing hard from his enthusiastic sprint across the greenway, but his eyes are illuminated by his excitement at catching you in time.

“Colt—” you start, gripping his forearms as if he’s going to disappear.

He shakes his head, cutting off whatever you were about to ask. “I’ve been wrong. I’ve been so wrong.”

You raise your eyebrows in disbelief, trying to make sense of his words. “Colt, how did you find me here?” you ask.

“I got your note,” he tells you. “Holly told me how to find you.”

“Don’t you have to be on set?”

“Actually, I’m not filming anymore.”

You can’t hide your confusion. Colt isn’t working on the movie anymore? What kind of insane coincidence could this be? “What?” you squeak, gripping his arms even harder. “Please tell me you didn’t quit because I did!”

Colt shakes his head, which relieves you. “Tom quit the movie last night,” Colt explains, his eyes never leaving yours. “Called Gordon and told him he was sick of taking orders and wasn’t working for him anymore. I’d say it had something to do with you taking Gordon to task yesterday,” he adds with something that sounds a little like humor. “Tom doesn’t want something like that reflecting badly on him.”

You laugh in pure disbelief, amazed at the turn of events you could never have expected. “Well, I never thought I’d be grateful to Tom Ryder for anything,” you say honestly, and Colt laughs with you, genuine joy behind his eyes. You search his face for answers about why he has rushed to the airport to see you. You begin, “Listen, you didn’t have to come all this way just to tell me—”

“I did,” Colt says definitively. “Believe me, I did. Because what I have to say isn’t something that can be done long-distance.”

Your heart drops. This is it. After all this time, you’re about to hear the words that you know are true, the ones you’ve been waiting for, from his own lips.

“Colt…”

Colt takes a step backwards, his hands falling from your arms to hold your hands between the two of you. The look in his eyes can only be described as utter sincerity.

“I have been so wrong about selling you short,” he says softly, emotion threatening to break through his voice. “I keep putting you on this impossibly high pedestal and believing that you’re way too good for me. I thought you could never feel what I feel because I don’t see myself the way I see you. To me, you’re every wonderful thing that ever existed.”

Tears spring into your eyes at his words, so totally without guile. “Are you serious?” you whisper.

“Absolutely serious.” His eyes blaze with an intensity you haven’t seen before, and his grip on your hands grows tighter as he says, “Listen, I’ve never said this to anyone in my life, but… I love you.” Colt stops, his voice catching in his throat when he sees the tears streaming down your cheeks. “I’ve been in love with you since the first time I saw you on set painting that triple-sized stop sign.” You both laugh at the memory, relieving some of the overwhelming emotion.

He keeps going. “I’m so in love with you it actually scares me,” he finishes, “because nothing has ever meant so much to me as getting this right. I can’t keep holding it back, and you deserve to know. It’s killing me.”

“Colt…” It’s as if you’ve forgotten every word but his name.

Still, Colt presses on, trying to get three months’ worth of communication out in three minutes. “I’m not asking anything in return,” he tells you insistently. “If you still want to go, I won’t stop you. You don’t need to say or do anything, but I just had to get this out. After yesterday, with the train stunt almost going wrong, and you telling Gordon off, and then when you told me you love me and want to be with me no matter what, I don’t know… it just sort of woke me up.”

Your eyes brim with tears again, and you squeeze his hands, giving him an encouraging smile to keep going. You can feel his pulse in his hands, flying as fast as the jet planes soaring over the nearby mountains.

“I’ve been holding back because I didn’t want you to be stuck with a guy like me.” Colt can’t seem to stop the avalanche of words spilling out of his mouth, every one as sweet as honey to your ears. “I keep imagining this amazing future for you and thinking that I’m only going to hold you back and get in the way. I’m still not sure it wouldn’t be that way, but… I’m not the only one who gets to make that decision.” His voice thickens with emotion again. “No one has ever cheered me on the way you do. No one has ever supported me with everything I do, and made me feel like I actually have a chance at real love. But you’re different. You make me feel like I can do anything, and if you still want me after all we’ve been through, I’m yours.”

The look in Colt’s eyes is enough to make your knees feel weak, and you throw yourself forward to steady yourself, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in his shoulder. Colt’s instant embrace is more welcome than you could have imagined.

“Of course I want you,” you whisper in his ear. “Just you, no strings attached.”

Colt holds you against him for a few moments, long enough that a plane takes off from the landing strip and zooms far enough away that it doesn’t drown out his words. Finally, carefully, he pries himself out of your arms and holds you at arm’s length, his hands on your waist. “Look, I can’t promise that it’ll be easy,” he continues in a rush. “I’m a stuntman. Life is scary and dangerous and all that.”

“I don’t care about that,” you answer honestly, beaming through your tears. “If it’s what you love doing, there’s nothing I want more than for you to do it. I can handle it.”

“It’s not just that. I’ve never… I’ve never had a serious relationship before. Everything will be new for me, and I’m going to make a ton of mistakes.”

Colt’s eyes are misty, too, and your heart is so full of joy that it feels like it will burst. You know it must be radiating from your face, because Colt starts grinning back at you, seeming to sense how much you’ve been aching to hear these words from him.

“So am I,” you insist, your hands fluttering back and forth from his face to his shoulders over and over. “Mistakes are just part of a relationship. As long as we communicate and stay committed, we’re not going to fall apart just because of a few mistakes.”

Colt nods, flexing his fingers against your waist as his smile overtakes his entire face. Still, he doesn’t lose control: he seems to be holding back until he’s finished saying everything that’s been building up over the months. You’re more than happy to let your gaze wander over his wonderful face, to bask in the fact that Colt Seavers loves you back and isn’t going to let you go.

“There’s one more thing,” he says gingerly. “I… I don’t really have a lot of grand aspirations for the future. I’m a stuntman because that’s what I love doing, but there aren’t a lot of ways to move up the ladder. I’ll be doing stunts until I’m dead or until I can’t anymore, so basically, my future is just to be a working-class guy. I’ll just be an unknown stuntman.” He hesitates at the end of his speech, as if he honestly believes this could be a problem for you.

You want to laugh in sheer glee, but you hold back so Colt won’t think you’re taking his seriousness lightly. “If that bothered me,” you inform him, moving your thumbs lightly against the sides of his neck, “I would never have fallen in love with you in the first place. Colt, I’m not exactly shooting for the stars myself as a set decorator. Sure, I may have a chance to work on even bigger films, and it can always open up some new opportunities, but I’m not doing this to climb the ladder either. If we’re both working-class professionals for the rest of our lives, that’s fine with me. As long as I have you in my life, I don’t care what kind of life it is.”

Colt’s eyes finally brim over with the tears he has valiantly been holding back. His hands are trembling against your waist, and he ducks his head so you won’t see how much this confession has affected him. You pull him close to you again, resting your head just below his chin while he squeezes you tightly enough to take your breath away. This is what heaven must be like.

He’s whispering something against the top of your hair, so low you can barely hear it. “I’m so sorry.”

You shake your head. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I do,” Colt replies, the regret in his voice obvious. “I haven’t been able to make up my mind about what to do because all this has been in the back of my head. I should have just come clean with you the first time you ever let me know how you feel.” He lifts your head with his fingers under your chin, meeting your tear-stained gaze with one of his own. “It would have saved you all this heartbreak,” he whispers.

You smile up at him, resting your hand on his cheek. “What’s love without a little heartbreak?” you tease him. “That’s how you know it’s real.”

Colt finally returns your smile, his shoulders relaxing as if he suddenly believes that this is real. “I promise I won’t break your heart again,” he says solemnly.

“I believe that.” And you do.

Colt is looking into your eyes with all the passion of the ocean in a storm, and you can feel the blush in your cheeks building just from the way he’s looking at you. You’re suddenly hyper-conscious of his hand that’s still resting under your chin, tilting your head back to look deep in your eyes. The hand that is slowly, ever so slowly, bringing your face closer to his.

Colt hesitates for a moment when your lips are just inches apart. You’ve been here so many times, so close to a kiss, and have parted every time. This time, however, you know his heart is beating for you alone, and you feel like you have all the time in the world to savor this moment.

His gaze flickers down to your lips, and his breath seems to double its pace as he considers what he’s about to do. He lifts an eyebrow at you, as if asking, Are you ready? Your smile tells him all he needs to know, and finally, finally, Colt closes the endless distance between you.

The moment your lips meet his, your heart whispers, This is what you were made to do. Colt’s kiss is everything gentle and passionate, his lips moving slowly against yours in a rhythm that is so incredibly natural. His hands find landing spots on your back when you tighten your arms around his neck, pressing yourself against him as he deepens the kiss.

Every last circuit in your brain is exploding in the sweetest way possible. Is this how it’s supposed to feel? you wonder, and Colt pulls away from your mouth at that exact moment, fixing his eyes on yours with an expression that tells you he’s wondering the same thing.

The separation only lasts a moment, though, because now that Colt has had a taste of your lips, he can’t get enough. He kisses you again, and again, and again, and again, until you’re both so out of breath you wonder if you’ll ever recover. His hands move up and down your back, clutching your body so tightly against his that you’ve started breathing in rhythm with each other. You can taste salt on his lips, and you have no idea if it’s from your tears or his.

Just when you think you’re about to drown in the sweetest possible way, Colt presses one more soft kiss against your lips, then pulls back so you can breathe. You find yourself gasping for air and aren’t surprised to see him doing the same. Your hands stay on his shoulders as they heave up and down, and he doesn’t loosen his hold on you for a second.

“Colt…” you sigh, your lips feeling like they’ve actually changed shape, “I’ve dreamed about this so many times. You have no idea.”

He inclines his head toward you, resting his cheek against yours. His beard scratches your skin in a way that sends a delightful shiver down your spine. “Me, too,” he whispers against your cheek.

“Promise me this is real.”

“It’s real,” Colt assures you, dipping his head so he can press a kiss against the skin right below your ear. “Realer than anything I’ve done in my life.”

You feel like your body is about to sail into orbit at the contact, and you grip Colt’s broad shoulders even harder as his lips move down your neck, across your throat, down to your collarbone. You know you’re making breathless sounds that betray how much he’s exciting you, but you are far past the point of caring.

With every kiss, it’s as if Colt is repeating the words he said just a few moments ago: I love you. I love you. I love you. One of his hands moves from your lower back to cradle your chin, tilting your head to the side to give him better access to your neck.

“I’ve been aching for you,” he murmurs close to your ear. “Burning for you.”

His words inspire an entirely new shiver down your spine, one that makes you stand on your toes and arch even further into his arms. All you can manage to choke out is, “I love you so much… so much…”

You slide one hand into his hair, remembering how he reacted the last time you did that. Right on cue, Colt lets out a soft sound that makes every inch of your skin erupt into goosebumps. He goes still in your arms, his mouth still on the curve where your shoulder meets your neck. You run your fingers through his hair with firm but gentle strokes, reveling in the way he seems to melt in your arms.

After a few moments of it, Colt finally straightens again, his intense gaze locked on your face. You leave one hand in his thick hair and let your other wander to his face. Using just your fingertips, you trace his forehead, his cheekbone, his nose, his lips, his jaw, everything you’ve been dying to touch. Colt’s eyes flutter closed at your touch, as if he’s about to come undone right before your eyes. Your heart leaps when he leans his head to the side, leaning in to your touch.

You choose to copy his actions, rising up to press your lips to his pulse point, right below his neck. The way Colt’s hands on your waist flex in response tells you you’ve found something he likes. You trail your way up until you’re peppering kisses behind his ear, then on his cheek, on his nose, on both his closed eyelids.

At the sensation of your kisses on his face, Colt opens his eyes and smiles at you. It’s a new smile this time, one that speaks of a new emotion he’s feeling for the first time. Peacefulness. Assurance.

Colt raises his hands to frame your face, tucking the strands of hair that he’s pulled loose back behind your ears. His voice breaks when he says softly, “I may never find the right words to tell you how I really feel about you, but I promise I’m going to take every opportunity to try.”

You rest your hands on his chest, grinning as you reply, “We’ve got the rest of our lives for you to think of the right words. I’ve heard all the ones I need to know what you mean.”

Colt’s eyes are brimming over with the love he’s been demonstrating, the adoration, the gratitude, the sheer bliss of sharing this moment with the one person he’s been waiting all his life for. “You’re everything to me…” he murmurs, lowering his lips to touch yours again. “I’ve never…” he restarts, only to interrupt himself with another kiss. “No one has ever…”

He doesn’t even try to finish the last sentence, and your lips are meeting in a gentler kiss, one that calms the fire you’ve been building for the last little eternity. His lips are so soft against yours, coaxing things from you but never demanding. Colt’s hands stroke through your hair and down your spine, holding you close against his chest protectively. You can feel every breath he takes, every movement that reveals how wrapped up he is in feeling you with him.

Another deafening jet plane roars over your heads, but neither of you take the slightest bit of notice.

Colt finally slows your kiss down, pressing his lips to the corner of your mouth and leaving one of his hands to tangle in your hair. He doesn’t pull away, just lets his lips linger on your jaw, as he asks casually, “So, Sofonisba, are you still flying out?”

“Sofonisba?” you repeat, words slowly drifting back into your brain.

“I was running out of artist nicknames,” Colt explains, a husky edge still noticeable in his voice. “Had to look that one up.”

You grin at him, though he feels it rather than sees it. “I don’t have to fly out. I don’t exactly have somewhere to be.” You snuggle closer to him, not quite ready to leave his comforting embrace. “Haven’t even gotten my ticket yet.”

Colt hums in approval at that, the sound lingering on your skin. “In that case,” he suggests softly, “what do you say to some coffee?”

“Can’t think of anything I’d like better,” you say honestly.

Colt returns your smile, pulling you forward for one last, reverent kiss to your lips. Then he wraps his arm around your shoulder, and the two of you gaze off into the distance, where another plane soars into the sky over the mountains.

You don’t know what lies ahead for you, and you know Colt doesn’t either. But you are assured of one thing now, and that is that you’ve found the man you were made to be with. All it takes is one glance up into his eyes to know that he’s confident of the same thing.

That’s more than enough for you.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Epilogue

[bloatedandalone04]

The Only One Invited

➪the one where you’re with a.j. and ghost, your ex, gets out of prison. (requested)

Warnings: angst, fluff, smut, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, jealousy, mentions of a bad past relationship, toxic ex, unwanted attention, descriptions of fighting, mentions of blood, descriptions of wounds, alcohol consumption, swearing, blood kink....? kinda? never wrote this before heha

Word Count: 8.6k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

The loud music and flashing lights were the furthest things from your mind as you stared down at your left hand with a permanent smile on your face. 

A large rock attached to a band stared back up at you, shining under the bright lights of the club. 

A mere half an hour ago A.J. had proposed to you, back at your shared apartment, and you had to practically force yourself to carry on through with your plans of meeting Rachel and the guys at the club. 

You were more than willing to skip out on the gathering, simply because you had officially been taken off the market by the man you fell so hard for so fast. 

But, A.J. assured you that there would be lots of time to celebrate your engagement, one on one, after a few hours spent with your friends. 

While you agreed to still go, you also gave him a fair warning that you probably wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off of him for more than a minute or so. That only made him want to go out even more, just so he could show off that you belonged to each other and no one else. 

John congratulated you with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, something A.J. didn’t even bat an eye at. While he has always been somewhat possessive over you, he couldn’t bring himself to feel jealous whenever you interacted with his friends. John, Jesse, Jake and Gordon all know about how your ex boyfriend, and their former group member, treated you. 

If A.J. was a little possessive over you, Ghost was convinced he had a say in every single thing you did. He was not only emotionally manipulative, but he also rarely let you have outings like this. Ghost didn’t like the fact that you were close to the guys, and he really didn’t like how much A.J. pined over you. 

It was obvious from the start how much A.J. was into you, but you had already been spoken for by the likes of his friend. Ghost made it clear that he would never get the chance with you, and A.J. had to sit by and watch as you slowly became a shell of the person you were before.

When Ghost was arrested and officially taken out of your life, the two of you couldn’t deny your feelings of each other any longer. It was only a year and a half after when you began dating, and now another three and a half years later, he finally worked up the courage to ask you to marry him. 

You hadn’t given your toxic ex so much as a thought in almost five years, and you couldn’t be happier. You were in a much better place now, and you had A.J. to thank for that. 

After a bit of small talk with Rachel and the guys, and a fair amount of alcohol consumption, A.J. had decided he was done with socializing at this point. 

So, after a quick goodbye and a few more hugs of congratulations, you were off, your hand held tightly in A.J.’s. 

As soon as you were in the entrance hall of your apartment, his lips were on yours and your back was against the door. He was addictive as well as addicted, and he was kissing you like he still couldn’t believe he had managed to have you all to himself. 

Finally, you were all his.

After years of pining and watching Ghost treat you in all the ways you didn’t deserve, he had stayed true to his word and given you a much better life. You were finally being shown the adoration and respect you had been missing out on, and A.J. couldn’t be more full of pride that it was he who got to shower you in all of it. 

A vase was knocked off the front hall table in the midst of him taking you right there, and he didn’t care one bit about the replaceable porcelain as he carried you to your room after getting you off a couple of feet from the door.

It was all smiles and kisses as he stumbled his way through the apartment, his hands never leaving your body, and your fingers never detangling from his hair.  

Pictures were accidentally knocked off the walls, and there would be a mess to clean up later, but neither of you seemed too worried about it as the feeling of bliss took over the pair of you completely.

-

The next morning, or maybe it was the afternoon, you and A.J. still hadn’t left the comfort of the king sized bed when his phone went off. 

He felt around the comforter with the hand that wasn’t gripping your waist, and squinted as he read the caller ID. “Jake,” he muttered and you hummed, nuzzling closer to him. He answered the call, bringing his phone up to his ear with a muffled, “Yeah?”

“A.J.,” Jake said and he could hear the frustration and panic in his best friend’s voice. “You won’t believe it, man.”

A.J. closed his eyes again as the sun seeped into the room, him having failed to shut the blinds before taking you to bed for the night. “What?”

“It’s Ghost,” Jake muttered. “He’s fucking back.”

A.J.’s grip on you tightened at that, and his eyes opened again. “What do you mean, he’s back?” 

“He’s out, A.J.,” Jake said. “They released him this morning.”

“Fuck,” A.J. grunted and you felt it as his whole body tensed up. You lift your head and take note of the crease in his forehead, frustration evident on his face. 

“What?” You ask quietly, placing a comforting hand on his bare chest. “What is it?”

A.J. just shook his head at you as he listened to whatever else Jake was saying. “Yeah, alright,” he replied. “I’ll be there later. Thanks, man.”

When he hung up and tossed his phone to the side, you furrowed your brows and propped yourself up on your elbow. “What’s wrong?”

As he looked at you, A.J. felt a surge of anger go through him. He hated Ghost and was pissed off that he had been released from prison so quickly, and the fact that it was the day after you got engaged was another thing that royally ticked him off. 

He had saved you from the man once before, and he had no problem doing it again, but he still hated the fact that he was out now. 

“It’s Ghost,” he mumbled.

The tracing of your fingers against his chest stopped. “What about him?”

He felt you tense up in his arms, and he knew all those memories you had of Ghost were coming back. The same memories you hadn’t thought about in years, the ones he never wanted you to think about again. A.J. hated Ghost with a passion that ran deep. It had been building up since the minute he saw your awful excuse of an ex lay his hands on you.

“They released him this morning,” he quietly informed you and felt your hand move to squeeze his arm.

“So,” you trail off, hesitantly meeting his eyes. He hadn’t seen you be this on edge with him since the beginning of your relationship, the beautiful thing it is. You were closed off and apprehensive at the start, but he was quickly able to break down the walls you had spent the whole duration of your relationship with Ghost building up. “What does this mean for us?”

You sounded nervous, and he really couldn’t blame you. Ghost is a menace and one of the worst people A.J. had ever met. If he had any say in it at all, Ghost would still be behind bars and for much longer than five years. 

A.J. gently lifted you up so you were straddling him after he moved to rest against the headboard. “Nothing,” he assured you, resting his hands on your waist and nudging your nose with his. “This means nothing. You’re my girl, my finaceé.”

You place your hands on his shoulders, gently digging your fingers into his skin in a soft massage. “But I was his girl before,”

He ran his hands up your back in an attempt to comfort you, not knowing what  else he could do at the moment to make you feel at ease. “Yeah, he had his chance,” he agreed, and continued before you could say anything, “But he fucked it up, as if he even deserved to have you in the first place.” 

You give him a weak smile. “A.J.,” you trail off, unsure of how to put your concerns into words. You know he understands either way, but you were still uneasy about the very real fact you would have to continue to live your life like normal, but now have your abusive ex back in the picture. “I can’t go back to how things were.”

You knew Ghost would hold a grudge against the other guys for the fact that he was the only one who was arrested, so just not seeing him wouldn’t be an option. He would be around the guys again, and possibly on a daily basis, so you would just have to resort to avoiding him as best as you could. 

“You won’t,” he said sternly, his eyes softening at just how nervous and different you had become since he told you about the release of your ex. “You won’t, baby, I promise. He’s not going to hurt you, he won’t even fucking breathe in your direction as long as I can prevent it.”

You give him a genuine smile and lean in to brush your lips against his, “I don’t want him hurting you,”

“I don’t care what happens to me,” he replied and you could tell just how much he meant those words. “You’re the best thing in my life, and I won’t let you slip back into the way you were before.”

He grabbed your left hand and raised it up, pressing his lips to the finger that held your ring. 

“I promised you when I put this ring on your finger that I would spend the rest of my life making sure you’re the happiest you could ever possibly be, and I intend on keeping that promise,” his words were so soft spoken, it had tears gathering in your eyes almost instantly. “You’re my future. Ghost is our past. He’s not going to ruin what we’ve spent almost four years creating. I’m not going to let him.”

His words make you feel at ease, and you nod at him before pressing your lips to his in a proper kiss. You slide your hands up and grip the sides of his face as he pulls your chest flat against his. Slowly, you move your hips and feel a shock of pleasure shoot through you at the friction.

A.J. felt it, too, and he deepened the kiss with a low groan. “Fuck,” he muttered against your lips. “He’s fucking crazy for taking this for granted, the fucking idiot.”

You smile against him and grind down again, tangling your fingers in his hair as you murmur a quiet request, “Make me forget about him all over again,”

A.J. groaned loudly before he was pushing you back down onto the bed and hovering over you, just like how he was last night. 

-

Later, you and A.J. finally got out of bed after getting a couple more hours of sleep. Jake had texted him and invited the two of you out to the club tonight, and though you were a bit hesitant about possibly running into Ghost, you agreed to go meet up with the guys again. 

“Damn,” A.J. said under his breath as he leaned against the bathroom door frame. You were standing at the counter, the bright lights around the mirror making you look like something straight out of heaven. His eyes trailed up and down the tight red dress you wore, giving you a bit of a sinful look amidst the heavenly glow that surrounded you. “My girl is hot.”

You grin at him in the mirror, shaking your head slightly as you apply a matching red lip. 

“Fuck,” he muttered and pushed himself off the frame. He stands behind you and wraps his arms around your middle, pressing his lips to the side of your neck. “Maybe we should stay home tonight.”

Laughing, you lean back against him and keep eye contact with him in the mirror. “We’ve spent pretty much the entire day at home,” 

“Why not spend the rest of it at home as well?” He shrugged, smirking at your reflection. “I didn’t hear any complaints from you before.”

“Oh, I’m not complaining,” you match his smirk and hold up your left hand. “I just want another night to show this off.” You wiggle your fingers for further effect.

A.J.’s smirk turns into a genuine smile for a second as he says, “I guess I can stick it out for another night,” he replied smoothly, running his nose up your neck until his lips were right next to your ear. “It allows me to show you off to everyone.”

You turned your head so you were able to look into his eyes. “I love you,” 

A.J. hummed, closing the distance and connecting your lips in a passionate kiss. You lift your right hand and tangle it in his hair, the angle of your arm a bit awkward but nothing you couldn’t put up with if it meant you got to kiss him. “I love you,” he said back, his lips slightly wet from the quick heated kiss. “And I got you something.” 

You raise a brow in curiosity, allowing him to use his right hand to turn your head back towards the mirror, where you saw the necklace dangling from his left one. “A.J.,” you trail off, eyeing the chain as a warm feeling spread all throughout your body. “You didn’t have to get me anything else. The ring is more than enough.”

A.J. waved you off as he helped clip it around your neck. “I’ll never pass up the opportunity to spoil you,” he murmured, kissing the back of your neck once the clasp was secured. “You know that.”

You look at the charm in the mirror, a smile gracing your features as you take in the simple A.J. that was engraved on it. It was backwards in the mirror, but you were still able to immediately tell what it said.

When you didn’t say anything else, A.J. bit down on his lip and reached a hand up to flatten his now messy hair. Even though he would be wearing his hat later, he still wanted to look good for you at all times; including right after you just finished making a mess of his strands. “I hope you don’t think I’m being too…I don’t know, possessive or something like that,”

You shake your head and wrap your arms around his neck. “Not at all,” you say and brush your lips against his. “Claim me as yours in any way you see fit. You won’t hear any complaints about it from me.”

A.J.’s look of nervousness quickly wipes away and a smirk replaces it. “Is that so? In that case,” he leaned down, teasing your mouth with his, before moving past it and placing an open mouth kiss to the side of your neck. Before you could stop yourself, a moan escapes you as he sucks your skin between his lips and creates a dark love bite, right above the chain of your necklace. “Now I’m ready to go.”

-

“I’m so excited for you guys!” Rachel says as she gives you a hug. You hug her back as A.J. and Jake greet each other with a quick hand shake. “I knew you two would end up engaged, I just can’t believe how long it took him to ask you.”

A.J. rolls his eyes and embraces her in a half hug. “I bought the ring four months into the relationship,” he points out and your eyes widen as you tug him towards you. 

“You did?” You ask and he nods, a smirk forming on his lips when you lightly slap his shoulder. “A.J., you tease! What the hell were you waiting for?”

His smirk turned into a smile as he shrugged and pressed his lips to your forehead. “I didn’t want to rush things,”

You shake your head and kiss him quickly, wrapping your arms around his middle while his hands tightly grip your waist. “I would’ve said yes four days into our relationship, never mind four months,”

A.J. raises a brow as you reach a hand up to straighten out his hat. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,”

“Damn,”

You laugh and nuzzle your face against his chest. “But I love you, and I wouldn’t change a single thing about the last four years,”

He smiles down at you, “Me either,” his eyes meet John’s from across the club. A.J. squeezes your hips, pressing another kiss to your lips before stepping away from you, his mouth next to your ear. “I’ll be right back.”

You nod, moving towards Jake, who was leaning against the bar. “I’ll get you a drink,” you offer, and A.J. gives you a grateful smile and a quick kiss to the side of your head before he’s wandering off in the direction of John.

Turning back to Jake, you give him a small smile when he hands you the same drink that Rachel is sipping on before ordering A.J. a glass of bourbon. “Don’t worry,” he winks at you, downing his own drink before continuing, “I’ll say it’s from you.” 

With a quick laugh, you wave him off. “You don’t have to,”

Before he could get another word in, you feel a hand press against the small of your back. You immediately stiffen, the touch being familiar but not in a good way. A.J. was always gentle with you, never forcefully putting his hands on you, and it seems as though he couldn’t be away from you for more than thirty seconds before someone else came swooping in. 

This certain someone was a person you never wanted to see again, and you had been so sure you wouldn’t have to see him again, but here we are. 

“Hey, brat,” the unflattering nickname made you hold back a grimace. “Haven’t seen you in a while. It’s been so long.”

“Not long enough,” you say through your teeth, your grip on the glass tightening the longer he kept his hand on you. 

A laugh was heard right next to your ear, the sound making you flinch slightly. “Nice to see you haven’t changed a bit,” he murmured, dipping his head down so his face was closer to yours. “Brat.”

You turn to face him at the same time Jake finally notices the man next to you, his eyes darkening as he pulls Rachel behind him. “Ghost,” he says, stepping closer to you, but he could only get so far due to your ex blocking his path. “How long you been back?” He knew the answer, but also knew better than to set Ghost off right away.

“A while,” Ghost answers, shrugging slightly. “Got out this morning.”

“Right,” Jake trailed off, eyeing you with a sense of protection you usually see from A.J. “Well, a lot has happened in the last five years, man. I mean, that’s half a decade.”

Ghost leans closer to the man, a flash of anger in his eyes. “You don’t think I know that?” He asked, his tone deep and deadly. “I was the one in prison.”

“I know, man,” Jake raised his hands in defense. “I’m just saying. Things have changed since you’ve been in there.”

“Yeah?” Ghost asked. “Like what?”

Jake wrapped a protective arm around Rachel, his eyes flickering over to you. “You know, things,”

Ghost turned back to you and placed his hand flat against the bar on the other side of you, successfully caging you in between his arms. You wished you slipped away when you had the chance. “Care to fill me in, baby?” He asked, his voice quiet in the loud club, but you still heard him.

You turn to glare at him. “Don’t call me that,” you mutter, pushing against his chest. He didn’t budge a bit. “I mean it, we’re done.” 

Ghost smirked down at you. “I don’t recall us ever breaking up, brat,”

“You went to jail,” you seethe, trying to push him away from you again. “That should have been a clear enough message.”

“You didn’t wait for me?” His voice was dripping with faux sadness. “I thought we had something special.”

You felt yourself beginning to slip back to the sad, weak girl you were when you were with Ghost. You were so easy to manipulate back then, so easy to use, and use you he did. You changed for the better when A.J. finally initiated a relationship with you, and you can’t go back to who you were before him. 

Jake placed a firm hand on Ghost’s shoulder, pulling his attention from you. “Listen, man, she’s not your girl anymore, alright?” He tried to sound reasonable, but there was no reasoning with Ghost. “Let it go.”

“Take your own advice and let me go, Jake,” Ghost shoved Jake’s hand from his shoulder and turned back to face you. “Come back to me, baby. We were so good together.”

You shake your head and try once again to push him away from you. “No,”

“Come on,” he grabbed your wrist and lifted your arm, his eyes narrowing when he caught sight of your engagement ring. If it made him mad, he didn’t show it as he dropped your arm back down and gripped your waist. “You were always so willing, what happened, hm? Where did my obedient girl go?” 

“Leave me alone, Ghost,” you try to sound strong, though you felt incredibly weak. “I’m not that girl anymore.”

Ghost cooed, “I don’t believe that,” he dipped his head down so his lips were close to yours. “Just come back to me.”

Before you could say or do anything else, Ghost pulled away from you when he felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder. 

“Jake, I swear to fucking-” he cut himself off when he turned around and came face to face with your fiancé. “A.J.! Hey, man. I can’t talk right now, I’m kinda in the middle of something.”

A.J. grinned at him. “In the middle of what?” It was then when you realized that A.J. had his hands tucked behind his back and was swaying slightly, his grin so clearly forced. 

“You know,” Ghost gestured to you. “I’m trying to help this broad remember who she belongs t-”

Before anyone could say anything else, A.J. swung his right arm up and decked Ghost square in the face. He couldn’t even recover before A.J. was pulling you from your place by the bar and swinging his fist at Ghost’s face again once you were safely out of the way. 

In the midst of all that, his hat had fallen from his head, but it would’ve hit the floor anyway when Ghost recovered from the two punches and threw one of his own. You watch as his fist meets A.J.’s jaw, and how he stumbles back a bit, his knuckles brushing against the place that would surely have a bruise forming soon. 

Satisfied, Ghost looked between the two of you before laughing breathlessly, his index finger gesturing between you. “You two?” He asked, and A.J. didn’t answer. He just clenched his jaw that was probably already starting to hurt. “Really? A.J., come on, man, what the fuck.”

A.J. huffed out a breath, narrowing his eyes at your ex while you stood behind his protective stance. 

Ghost glared at his former friend when he saw the initials carved onto your necklace. “You?”

“Yeah,” A.J. answers, stretching his fingers before clenching them back into a fist. “Me.”

And just like that, your future husband was knocking your ex boyfriend a few feet back with a swing of his arm and his fist to his nose. Ghost barely recovered before A.J. was punching him again, this time his cheek, where he delivered a harsh blow to the bone. 

Jake pulled you behind him as Ghost got another hit in, making A.J.’s nose shed a stream of blood, but he didn’t do nearly as much damage as he was receiving. A.J. was smart, clever and a borderline genius. He was also a hell of a good fighter, and has won more brawls than he could count on two hands. 

He was observant, and often used his surroundings to his advantage. That was why he easily got the upper hand by grabbing a nearby stool and slamming it against Ghost’s body, making the man fall to the floor with a harsh thud. The stool broke on impact, pieces of wood and screws flying to the ground as well. 

The club patrons were looking on with shock, but some were also intrigued and impressed by A.J.’s ability to stay in control during a fight. Some of them were on their phones, no doubt calling the police, and you knew you had to get him out before he got arrested, too. 

Before A.J. could finish the job, Jake was grabbing him by the shoulders and handing him his glass of bourbon. “Alright, alright, man, that’s enough,” he says, taking the glass back once A.J. downed the drink, all while keeping his eyes on the man who was still on the floor. “Go home, A.J., I’ll take care of him.”

You take that as your cue to lead him out of there. Grabbing his forgotten hat, you press yourself into A.J.’s side and guide him towards the door. You didn’t get far before Ghost was calling out to you, his teeth stained with his blood, “Fuck you, A.J. We were fucking friends,”

A.J. just scoffed and wrapped his arm around your waist. “We were never friends, you fucking prick,” he stumbled towards the door, his body on fire from the rage that had set in once he saw Ghost’s hands on your body. “Touch her again and I won’t stop next time until you’re dead.” 

And he was completely serious.  

Ghost had his chance, fucked it up, and wouldn’t get a second one to degrade you in all the ways he did before. Not if A.J. had any say in it.

You were glad you had chosen to walk to the club tonight, as maybe the cool air would help calm him down. A.J. was tense, his body stiff in the way that told you he was furious. You could only imagine all the thoughts that were running through his mind after seeing you with your abusive ex, and you hated having to put him through that. 

“A.J…” You trailed off, feeling the way his hand tightened around yours as he pulled you along with him and towards your apartment. “I’m sorry.”

That had him stopping so abruptly, you had no choice but to bump into his side at the sudden halt. He looked down at you with confusion evident on his face. “What are you sorry for? It’s not your fault your ex is a fucking asshole,” 

You shrugged, not meeting his eyes. “I know, but I didn’t do more to get him away from me,”

A.J. was confused, but his anger overpowered that confusion. Had Ghost really made you believe that what happened just now was your fault? The thought made him even more pissed, and he had to hold onto every rational thought inside his head that was currently stopping him from going back into that club and finishing what he started. 

“Y/n,” he said sternly, resuming the walk back to the apartment, but at a much slower pace than before. He was still furious, but also knew he needed to stay calm for you. The last thing he wanted was for you to be reminded of Ghost’s anger issues just because he couldn’t de-escalate a situation. “You have nothing to be sorry for, alright? Nothing. Ghost is an idiot for putting those thoughts in your head.”

“I guess,” you say quietly, and A.J. bit his tongue to stop himself from calling you out on allowing Ghost to push you back into that mindset you had when you were with him. It truly wasn’t your fault.  

You make it back to the apartment a few minutes later. A.J. was still angry, and you were still on edge. It was such a contrast from the moods you were in when you returned home last night, the two of you being so happy and giddy and loving on one another. 

Looking over at him, you notice the blood that was still on his lip and chin from the punch his nose took, and you furrow your brows as you feel your own anger begin to brew, as well as guilt. 

A.J. noticed, like he always did. “What’s wrong?” 

You reach your hand out to him, running your thumb over his bruised and bloody knuckles. “Let me help you,” you offer quietly, despite the walls being thick and well insulated, you still didn’t want to be too loud right now.

A.J. gently gripped your jaw in between his thumb and index finger, tilting your head up so you were forced to look into his annoyingly beautiful blue eyes. “I’m alright, baby,” he says just as quietly. “I’m more worried about you.”

You hold eye contact as you shrug. “I wish he never got out,” you say truthfully. 

A.J. nods, wrapping you up in his arms and pulling you into his chest, immediately filling you with a sense of comfort. “Me too,” he says, massaging the back of your head as you inhale his woodsy scent. “Seeing you with him tonight….”

When he doesn’t say anything else, you pull back just enough to be able to look up at him. “What?”

He stared back down at you, his forehead creased in a furrow. “I just… I was brought back to all those years ago, when I was too stupid to say anything to you about how I felt. I kept it inside, because even though you were with a guy who didn’t deserve you, I didn’t want to fuck up what we already had going on,” 

You listened to the rare moment where he wasn’t able to keep his feelings inside and was forced to let them out. Truthfully, you adored the times when he felt comfortable enough to let you all the way in and loved how much he trusted you. 

“I hate to admit it, but,” he began, sliding his hands up so they were caressing either side of your face. “I’m jealous, baby. So fucking jealous that he had you. I fucking hate him and I hate the history you have with him. He never deserved you, it should’ve been me, but I was too much of a coward back then.”

You quickly shake your head and place your hands flat on his chest. “A.J.-”

“No, I let him treat you like you were nothing, but you’re everything, baby,” he promises, leaning down so his nose brushes against yours. “You’re everything to me. You always were, and you always will be. Ghost won’t change that, no matter what. The fucker had his chance, but I won’t let him have another one. You’re my girl, and I’m yours. I always was.”

You exhale quickly at his words and the way they dripped with possessiveness. God, you loved this man, and would happily live the rest of your life in this apartment with him. 

“Jay,” you all but whimpered, reaching one hand up to tug at his hair. He pulled you closer to him as he suppressed a groan. “Fuck, please.”

He hummed quietly, brushing his blood coated lips against yours. “Please…what?” He asked, sliding his hands back down to squeeze your hips in a way that had you whining softly. “What do you need, baby? Tell me and I’ll give it to you. I’ll give you anything you could ever want.”

“Please, touch me,” you requested in a soft murmur, using your other hand to tug at the hair on the back of his neck. “I need you, need to forget the way his hands felt on me.”

A.J.’s hands tighten their grip on your hips, burrowing his nose into your hair. “Yeah?” He asked, his anger quickly beginning to dissolve into lust. “You need me to help you forget about your fuckhead of an ex? Remind you how my own hands feel?”

“Give me a refresher,” you say and begin unbuttoning his shirt. “I don’t think I could ever forget how good your hands are, Jay.”

He groaned against your neck, his hands sliding down and playing with the end of your dress, where he pulled it up until it gathered above your hips. “That’s right, sweet girl,” he picked you up effortlessly and carried you over to the dining table, the open concept making his journey over there an easy one. “I don’t want you to ever forget how good I make you feel, just the way you deserve.”

He sets you down on top of the table, pulling off your dress completely and leaving you in just the skimpy black lingerie you were hiding underneath. 

A.J’s eyes darken at the sight, a deep grunt leaving his throat as he leans down to attach his lips to the skin of your breasts that was peeking out from the confinements of the lacy bra. “Fuck,” he sighed against your soft skin, unable to stop himself from sucking a mark onto it, just below where your necklace rested. “This is what you were wearing when that fucker touched you? Did you wear this just for me?”

“Yes,” came your instant reply, so obedient in the way Ghost forced you to be, but it was completely consensual with A.J. “Yes, only for you.”

A.J. smirked against the hickey he sucked onto you, his lips brushing over it as he mumbled, “My girl,” he kissed his way down your body, his hands gently pushing on your shoulders until you were laying flat against the surface of the table. “My sweet, sexy, beautiful girl.”

His words make you breathless and you arch your back when he kisses the skin of your abdomen. Your hands tangle in his hair while his tug down the equally lacy thong before he wraps his arms around your thighs. “God, A.J.,” you say under your breath. “You make me feel so good, with and without your hands.”

He grins against the skin of your hip when you lift it up towards his mouth. “I love you,”

His lips attach to your clit shortly after that, and you’re once again left without any air. “I love you,” you rasp out, your fingers getting lost in his light strands of hair. He sucks on your clit, chin still bloody and making a bit of it wipe off on you. Yet you found it strangely attractive, seeing his visual evidence of just how far he’d go to protect you rub off on you while he went down on you. “I love you more than anything, A.J.”

He hums in appreciation, kneeling down on the floor and pulling you by your waist so your thighs are resting on his shoulders. As his tongue works on your opening, your hips moving on their own accord against his mouth. “That’s right,” he praises, repeating his words from before as he keeps his head still and lets you grind your core against his awaiting tongue. “So good for me.”

You gasp quietly when he wraps his arms around your thighs again and delves his tongue inside you. “Fuck,” you drag the word out a bit as you arch away from the table again. “I need you so badly all the time, fuck.”  

A.J. hummed, removing his mouth from you but keeping the pressure by sliding his index and middle finger inside you with ease. “You’re all needy for me, huh, baby,” it wasn’t a question, because you both knew what the answer would be if it were. 

“A.J.,” you whine as your face heats up, your hands moving to grip the edges of the table on either side of your thighs. 

“I know,” he coos quietly, pumping his fingers in and out of you, slowly getting you all riled up for him. “I know, I’m needy for you, too, baby. I want you all the time, everyday.” 

“You have me,” you promise, blindly reaching for his free hand with your left one, your proof being your ring that was shining against the single light above the table that A.J. had flipped on upon returning home. “Forever, you have me.”

“Mm,” he sighed in contentment. “Forever sounds perfect, baby. Just you and me.”

“Just us,” you agreed, knowing that your words would assure him. Just from his firm grip on your hand, you knew he still kept the smallest bit of anger hidden, and you appreciated his attempt at shielding you from it. The blood was still on his lips and chin, but it had long since dried, and you were concerned about how hot you found the sight.

You shouldn’t, because it was physical harm that had been done to him, but he took those two punches for you, because he couldn’t stand the way your ex spoke about you. He couldn’t stand the sight of his hands on you, and the thought of you slipping back into the old version of you. 

His fingers continue to fuck in and out of you, the digits slick with visual evidence of how much he turned you on. Because he had made you come so many times during the last twenty four hours, you were a bit sensitive to the way his fingers brushed against your walls.

You already felt overstimulated, despite not coming yet, and you blamed it on the way he took you so good just hours before you and he left for the club. 

His mouth returned to your clit, where he harshly sucked at the bundle of nerves and elicited a sudden and involuntary jerk of your hips. A.J. huffs out a laugh against you, speeding up the pace of his fingers when he feels you clench around him. “You’re close,” he observes, releasing your clit and placing a kiss to your hip instead. “I can feel it.” When you pull your hand from his and tangle it in his hair again, he uses the newfound freedom to grip one of your breasts through your bra. 

It only adds to the overall pressure that is building up deep within you, and you were coming before you knew it. Your thighs tried to close around him, but his shoulders prevented them from doing so, and your hand pulled at his hair with a firm tug. The grunt he let out because of that had you squeezing your eyes shut as his fingers continued to ride you through your high. 

Your legs were shaking and felt numb as you cowered away from the relentless thrusts of his hand. “Jesus,” you mutter once he finally slipped his fingers from you, the pleasure beyond blinding at this point.

He grinned down at you when he stood up, his face full of pride as he sucked his fingers clean. “You doing okay?”

“Yeah,” you answer breathlessly. “I’m good.”

His hands settle on your hips when you sit up on the table, your palms flat against the surface to keep you upright. You gazed up at him, his red tinted lips, slick with your arousal, and his lust filled eyes.

You were feral for this man. “Come here,” you beckoned him over with a wave of your hand. That same hand gripped the back of his neck when he neared you, pulling him forward slightly so you could connect your lips in the first proper kiss since coming back home. You moan at the feeling of his lips on yours, despite the kiss having a metallic taste to it, you didn’t care. Noisily, you pull away and grip the side of his face with your other hand. “Thank you for sticking up for me, for protecting me.”

A.J. brushes his nose against yours. “I always will,” he says and slides his hands up your back. “You know I’d do anything for you.”

“I know,” you nod, licking your saliva coated lips. “I want you to do something for me right now.” 

A.J. moves to stand between your legs, his still clothed front pressing against your partly bare one. “Anything, baby,” he reiterates.

You give him a sharp tug and wrap your arms around his neck. “I want you to fill me up,” you say, pressing a searing kiss to his lips, one that had him feeling lightheaded when mixed with your words. “I want to feel you, on me, in me, everywhere.” 

You reach down to grip him through his pants, hearing the quick inhale from him when you break the kiss. His hands move to the base of your neck, putting no pressure at all there, despite knowing how much it drove you crazy. 

“Make me yours, A.J.,” you softly begged. “Fuck me in the way we both need right now, let me make you come, I want it inside me.”

A.J. growled under his breath, gripped your throat and watched the way your eyes rolled back slightly, clearing loving the feeling of his fingers pressing against your airway. “You’re mine, baby,” he muttered, pressing another deep kiss to your awaiting mouth. His tongue swipes along your lower lip, leaving behind a string of saliva when he pulls away. “I’m gonna fill you up so good, sweet girl. I’m going to make you forget that fucker was ever part of your life.”

“Please,” you beg as you push his shirt off his shoulders. You move onto the button of his pants, unzipping them once the waistband loosened. Shoving them down, you guide his hips closer to yours before moving your hands back to his shoulders. “Fuck me, Jay, let me feel you.”

“I’ll take care of you,” he assures you, reaching behind you to unclasp your bra. He pulls it from your body and it joins the growing pile of clothes on the floor next to the table. “Like I always do.”

While your fingers slip up to tangle in his hair, he uses one hand to free himself from the confinements of his boxer briefs. He pulls you closer to the edge of the table, quieting your moan when he slips inside you with his lips. 

The stretch you always felt whenever he entered you had your eyes squeezing shut and your fingers tugging tightly on his hair. “Fuck,” he groaned once he bottomed out, his thumbs digging into the bones of your hips when he gave a sharp thrust. “You always take me so well.”

You moaned in agreement, pulling at the hairs on the base of his neck. “You’re so good to me, A.J.,” you whimpered, tilting your head back when his lips attached to your neck as he began to thrust into you at a steady pace. “Best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

He moaned against your skin, his hips hitting yours at a bruising pace. “I love you so fucking much,” he says, pulling you even closer to him. “I always have.”  

His sweet words make you dizzy, as does the feeling of his lips peppering kisses all over your neck and shoulders. “I love you,” 

The table, though sturdy, creaked with each thrust of his hips. You tug on his hair until he lifts his head, allowing you to connect your lips in a searing kiss. His blood had been pretty much wiped off by now, but you still tasted the bitterness of it on his lips. You could only guess how much of it had been smeared on your own face.

It was messy, gross, even, but one of the hottest things you’d ever experienced. While you hated Ghost and hated the fact that he had hurt A.J., he just looked so damn edible all the time, even when he was sporting a bloody nose and a bruised jaw. He wore those wounds proudly, knowing he won both the fight and your heart, though the latter he had claimed a long time ago. 

With each thrust, he slid deeper and deeper into you. Your previous orgasm had made your walls so warm and inviting, A.J. couldn’t help but pick up the pace a bit, the slick streaks he was met with every time he pulled out only fueling him to keep going. 

And your sounds. Fuck. 

He loved the way you sounded when he fucked you like this. You got so lost in the moment and didn’t care how loud you were being. A.J. didn’t care either. The walls were thick and there was insulation in the ceiling, so it’s not like your neighbors could hear how loud you two got when being intimate. 

Even if you were living in a cheap apartment with the thinnest walls ever built, he would still fuck you just like this and take pride in the noise complaints he would undoubtedly receive. How could he not when it was him who got you all riled up and loud.

You let out quiet gasps against his mouth as he fucked into you, your hands wrapping around his biceps. Digging your nails into his tattooed skin, you bite down on his bottom lip as you pull away. “God, you’re so perfect,” he grunted, placing one hand flat against the table behind you. “I remember thinking that the first time I saw you.”

You clench around him at his words. “Five years ago?” You managed to ask as you began to feel lightheaded from the way he reached so deep inside you. 

“Yeah, baby,” he said through a locked jaw, the way your walls tightened around him making his head spin. “I’ve been in love with you for a long time.”

You whimper quietly when his hand that wasn’t next to you reaches down to rub your throbbing clit. “I wanted you for so long,” you whisper. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” he confirmed, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “I always was.”

You moan loudly, leaning back and propping yourself up on your elbows. As you look down at where you two connected, you were powerless to stop the string of whines that left your lips in unison to the thrusts of his hips. 

“That’s it,” he praises. “That’s my girl, get loud for me.”

Your back arches and you clamp down around him when you feel the knot that had formed in your stomach begin to snap. Unable to not obey his wishes, your brows furrow as you cry out in ecstasy. “Fuck, don’t stop,” you beg, laying flat on your back as your legs began to shake. “Please, Jay, don’t- fuck… don’t stop.”

“I’m not stopping,” he says, picking up the pace of both his hips and his finger. “Not until I feel you come around me, like I know you want to.”

“I do,” you say and press your heel into his lower back. “I want to so badly.”

A.J. leaned down and slid his hand that was on the table up so it was gripping yours, lacing your fingers together. “So do it,” he prompted. His lips brushed against yours as he continued to coax a second orgasm out of you. “Come for me, baby, all over me. Let me feel how good I fuck you.”

“God,” you cry out, feeling your stomach twist and tighten before you were granted with the sweet relief that came when you clenched impossibly tight around him, coming all over him just like he requested you to. “Fuck.”

A.J. groaned loudly as he struggled to keep up the pace, your walls wrapped so tightly around him making the task difficult. “Fuck,” he repeated the word, his eyes nearly rolling into the back of his skull when he caught sight of the way your mouth hung open in silent pleads for him to continue until he was finished. “So fucking good. So tight. You gonna let me come inside you, hm?”

It wouldn’t be the first time, oh, far from it. You and he hadn’t used a condom since the first time you slept together, but he still liked to ask if he could finish while still being buried in you. 

“Yes,” you answer without hesitation, craving to feel the heat of his seed as it invades your core. “I want you to. I want it so bad, Jay. Please.” 

You were overstimulated, but that didn’t stop you from allowing him to abuse your spent heat. 

A.J.’s hips stuttered at your begs for him to fill you up, his jaw locking as he stared at your kiss swollen, blood tainted lips. “Fuck,” he muttered, gripping the edge of the table so tightly he was afraid he’d chip the wood. “Fuck, baby.” 

You encouraged his incoming release by sucking him in deeper and whining softly beneath him. “Please,” you pleaded quietly, your core throbbing with the need for a break, but you wouldn’t give yourself that relief until A.J. got his. “Fill me up, A.J., I want it.”

And who was he to deny your wants?

With a groan of your name, he was spilling into you and fucking his come deeper inside you as his pace never let up. You moan loudly at the warmth that flooded through you, reaching both hands down so you could pull him impossibly closer to you by his waist. 

He huffed out a breath once his thrusts finally ceased, his body aching with exhaustion. “I love you so much,” he whispered next to your ear before placing a kiss to the skin underneath it. 

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull his chest down onto yours, keeping him buried deep within you with your heel still pressed against his back. “I love you, too, A.J.,” you say back, pecking his lips as he tries to catch his breath. “Thank you for protecting me tonight, it was nice to see Ghost get his ass handed to him.”

A.J. laughed loudly before pressing another kiss to your lips, one that was much longer than the previous one. “I’ll always be there to protect you,” he promised, caging you in by placing his forearms on either side of your head. “As for Ghost….well, I’d kick his ass anytime, no matter the situation.”

[idontknowreallywhy]

The Last of Them

Not quite sure what this is… it started as a little tribute to David Graham who, while maybe most famous for voicing Parker twice, also brought original Gordon to life.

Then it developed a life of its own and I’m not entirely sure what it became - by its very nature it refers to multiple major character deaths but they are all very old. So I hope it is ok. Maybe don’t read if you’re feeling fragile!

I put them in order of the VAs passing because that seemed right in the circumstances. Apologies if that means it is The Wrong Order for how you imagine it.

💛💛💛💛💛💛💙💚🧡❤️💛💛💛💛💛💛

He never expected to be The Last.

They’d all lived to a good age. They’d all achieved what they wanted to achieve.

But even Tracys didn’t live forever. And Gordon had not expected to be The Last.

Virgil had been first. He was never first at anything and this had been absolutely the last race Scott ever wanted to be beaten in. He took it as a personal affront that the universe seemed to want to run the curtain calls out of order.

Secretly, Gordon believed it had been a stroke of luck. In retrospect, he had been relieved. He knew his tender-hearted brother would have struggled the most at having to say goodbye to one of them and carry on. Gordon knew more than any of them, more than Scott, perhaps even than the man himself, how heavily Virgil carried the burden of attending Scott’s first (thankfully premature) funeral and that his darkest fears had always been centred on doing that again. Perhaps that had been why he’d refused the more experimental, increasingly desperate treatments Scott was lining up. He’d said he was happy, he was content and wanted to face the next adventure at home with his family, ALL of his family, not in a bubble in San Francisco.

Even now, when he closed his eyes, Gordon could still feel that last hand squeeze. Could still hear that rumbling voice telling him he’d done good today. He’d had his brother’s last little throwaway gift - a sketch of a grizzly bear with a squid clinging to its face - engraved at 5x scale on to a steel plate.

As time passed, the voice in his memory became younger, the eyebrows darker.

Scott himself had faltered, hard. But eventually, with the assistance of a horde of grandchildren and great grandchildren, had refocused and thrown himself into the role of patriarch that he’d been reluctant to embrace since Dad had passed. He’d lavished all his vast stores of energy on the subsequent generations as if determined they would know how much he cared before it was too late.

Scott hadn’t expected to outlive TinTin, John or Penny either. But the universe kept shuffling the deck of cards until Grandpa Scott finally gave his last cheeky salute and went to find them.

And then there were two. And Gordon was the oldest. Which had been weird, although expected.

Alan had always hated being the last.

When Gordon had poked his head around the door as the doctor left, his baby brother had been serious, staring out of the window. He’d swallowed and walked quietly over to his bedside but as soon as Gordon had been within reach Alan had turned and punched him in the shoulder and smirked that same irritating little brother smirk he’d smirked for over eight decades:

“Tag!”

Gordon had blamed the tears on tiny, weedy child-knuckles faintly bruising his broad, masculine shoulders.

Alan had just cackled.

Gordon had never expected to be The Last.

But so it had been.

Sometimes the media people dared him to reveal his secret. As if somehow he’d achieved something his brothers had not… As if they had missed a trick… he would look them dead in the eye and swear he’d spliced his DNA with a bowhead whale. At which point they’d usually smile awkwardly, check their notes for references to dementia then back away from the stupid, stupid questions.

He had never expected to be The Last, but as The Last, he had become all of them.

When four generations sat round and told stories of the Tracy family, he was the guardian of the old ones. The original ones. The ones they all knew but pretended not to notice him embellishing. How Scott was faster, Virgil stronger, John more all-knowing, Alan more daring every time the tales were retold.

To the world at large he was a kind of talisman. Whenever IR was mentioned in the media, it became Gordon’s image that was used. Despite having never been in command of either IR or TI, it was his comment people wanted. So he would give one, often irreverent or purely nonsensical and with the same wink his eldest brother had been famous for. It was genetic, after all.

He played unpredictable and eccentric old billionaire nearly as well as he played crazy sentimental Grandpa.

As long as they didn’t ask the stupid questions. He had spent a little while in the pool, gently washing off the lingering taint of today’s holo-interview appearance on some news show. He always did them when asked, the Tracys positive reputation enabled the family to do a lot of good on a global scale and cute old guy Gordon apparently helped. It wasn’t a lot to ask. Scott would have done it, so, therefore, did Gordon. And he would carry on, as long as he had all his marbles. And then maybe just a little longer… to wind them all up.

He sighed. However he might suggest that stricter pre-screening was going to be needed in future.

“So, Mr Tracy, how does it feel to be the last of the old guard?”

He’d swallowed the bitter “How do you think?” The questioner had looked about twelve, they had no idea. No idea how it stung. So he’d called it an honour. Then shifted quickly to the agreed script about their campaign to make Safety and First Aid a compulsory part of the school curriculum in many countries.

Yes, a little more consideration for the ancient squid-man’s lonely heart wouldn’t go amiss. EOS would sort it. He liked EOS. She still got his pop culture references and she hadn’t locked him out of anywhere for years.

His minder for the pool excursion - one of Scott’s great grandkids… or possibly John’s… he was beginning to lose track - patted him on the hand and left him tucked up warmly in a fluffy robe on a lounger to watch the sunset.

Goodness he was tired.

He yawned and wriggled a little, then smiled to himself at the sound of the kids coming out on to the deck arguing about something or other. Alan’s traditional shriek as Virgil yeeted him into the pool was followed swiftly by the combined laughter of the elder trio who claimed the loungers beside and behind Gordon. A count of five, then the littlest bro had his revenge by leaping atop Virgil and soaking him before stealing half of Gordon’s robe and the majority of his elbow room.

Too contented to really complain, Gordon slung an arm over the soggy teen and let his brothers’ voices surround him as he drifted off to sleep.

[watermelongirl01]

Fresh Blood Part 1

Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

Criminal Minds x Supernatural

Summary: You finally meet the consequences of your actions through an old friend, How's the BAU going to react?

Content warning: Violence, injuries, and blood description, a little angst.

“Hey Handsome, I’m heading out, Do you need something before I leave?” You asked while peeking your head through his office’s half-open door.

Hotch frowned at you and took a glance at his watch looking surprised. 

“No, thank you, I’m just about to leave as well.”

“So, what if we stop for dinner before heading home?, you know, just in gratitude for that coffee back in Minnesota.” You said feeling a little bold.

Hotch took a second to think about it, everything inside him wanted to say yes, but decided against it. Maybe it wasn’t the right time.

“I think it’s better if you thank me by letting me walk you to your car, it’s late.” He remarked.

“Fine, your loss, Hotchner.” You simply said shrinking your shoulders.

You both walked to the elevator, chatting about how your day went and finally saying goodbye when you arrived at your car.

“You sure you don’t want some delicious dinner in my favorite restaurant? Last chance.” You squint your eyes at him. “I’m not getting any younger.”

“Maybe next time.” You nodded and waved goodbye, and before you could start your car, you heard a voice calling your name. “See you tomorrow morning.” 

“Sure thing, Boss.”

—-

Sleep never came, you were rolling on your bed from side to side, and nothing felt comfortable. But a peculiar sound caught your attention and you couldn’t tell where it was coming from.

You felt the need to investigate and your hand instinctively reached for the gun under your pillow, you decided to leave your room with precaution and that’s when you felt something was off quickly realizing your living room’s window was open. 

¿Who was skilled enough to access your window into a fifth-floor building? 

Walking with a shade of concern, you checked the devil’s trap under your mat, but it was intact, and the salt on your window was unbroken. With your non-dominant hand, you reached for your hidden silver knife from under the coffee table, empty, the knife was nowhere to be found.

It wasn’t a demon, a ghost was immediately crossed off the list, no shapeshifter, and thinking about werewolves and vampires was absurd.

That can only mean one thing.

The weight of a strong hand on your gun blocking you from shooting, caught you off guard, and the blade of a knife in your back kept you in place. “The security in your building sucks, they let anyone in.” 

That was the last thing you heard before everything went black.

—

You woke up with a sharp pain on the back of your head, trying to move your hands to help ease the pain, you realized they were tied behind the back of a chair, and so were your legs.

That’s when everything hit back, someone broke into your house.

“Uh uh, there’s no way you can get out of those knots, I tied you myself.” A man came into your sight, and fuck you knew who he was, you had help on his arrest. And to say help was modesty, you made it happen.

“Gordon.” You whispered.

“So you know who I am.”

“How do you get out?” 

“The Winchesters are not the only ones with connections.”

“Listen, they caught you with illegal weapons, there’s nothing I could’ve done to help you out.” Gordon’s hand caught your face with roughness as he crept closer to you.

“You think I’m here for that? To get revenge?” Your eyebrows frown with confusion. “I want to know where Sam Winchester is.” 

“Who?” 

“Sam Winchester.” Pure hatred came when he pronounced your friend’s name.

“Again, who?” You said with a challenging expression. “I don’t know who that is.” If any member of the BAU could’ve heard you taunt the man, they would immediately take back your batch.

“They did mention your stubbornness.” He laughed. 

“What? That’s not even one of my best qualities.” 

“I’m going to ask one more time, and this time you’re leaving the sarcasm behind and telling me the truth, or you’ll regret it.” He threatened. “Where is Sam Winchester?” 

“I don’t know who Sam Winchester is.” You stated.

A hard slap made you turn your head to the other side.

“Now you know?” 

“Rude, but still.” You maintained a firm voice. “It doesn’t ring a bell.”

He aimed at you again, this time with his closed fist, making your head spin and your ears ring. Just what you needed, a fucking concussion.

That’s how it went for what felt like an eternity. Punch after punch, your vision was blurry, your body was sore and your mouth tasted like blood.

“You are tough, I’ll give you that.” A shiny reflection caught your attention, your silver knife.

“Fuck” “Oh fuck” “Please, let this end right now.” You prayed inside your head.

“One more time, The Winchester brothers.” He yelled while playing with the knife on your skin.

“Winchester, Like the rifle?” You questioned. “Oh, one with bowed legs and the other with that constipated look.” 

He looked at you, but you couldn’t decipher his expression. 

“You should’ve started with that, Yeah, I know them.”

“Where are they?” He sounded way more tired than you, which is ironic thinking about it.

“That’s what I don’t know, you see, they only happen to call me to put people in jail.”

A sudden throbbing pain traveled through your body when you felt the sharp object being stabbed into your leg, you barely whined, you were too tired.

“Look, I know what you’re feeling, but believe me, he’s willing to talk, we can sit down and address your concerns, I swear, he’s not evil.” You insisted. “I can help you, we can find them, and we can all talk.”

He twisted the knife in your leg and you let out a muffled scream.

“I know what they did to you, you didn’t deserve that, I can help you, I’m a federal agent, we can put a stop to this.

“You think I believe your sudden change of heart? I’m not like the crazy people you profile.”

“You can’t reason with a bitter hunter.”  You heard in your head, That was the first thing your father taught you.

“Well, you could’ve fooled me.” You taunted him.

It Might not be the right answer, but there’s no way you can give him what he wants. And just when you thought he was lashing out at you, a ringing cell phone caught his attention.

“Bela? Bela Talbot? I'm on my way.” You overheard him say over the buzzing in your ears.

“Oh, fuck, that fucking bitch.” You mumble 

You knew who she was and how tricky she can be, you even got the pleasure of punching her in the face a long time ago.

“Oh, fuck indeed, I don’t need you after all. Don’t worry, after I kill your little friend, I’m going to send somebody to help you out.”

And he left, leaving you to bleed out, with no strength to try to untie yourself, just hoping someone could hear your tired screams through your apartment’s thick walls. As you watch the sunrise through your window, your eyes begin to feel heavy and blackness welcomes you.

~~~

On the other side, Hotch woke up from a restless night, he didn’t know why, but he felt uneasy. He took Jack to school and drove right to work. He parked next to your empty spot and walked straight to his office. It took five minutes for him to realize that his inquietude was because of you, you normally were there before him, his frown deepened.

The voices inside him got louder every time a member of the team arrived at the building and neither of them was you. He finally decided to get out of his office and walked through the bullpen, stopped right in front of your office, and opened the door.

“She hasn’t arrived yet.” JJ said behind him, he almost forgot yours and JJ’s offices were right next to each other. 

“I know, I just…” Hotch's mind went blank for excuses.

“You’re worried because it’s the first time she’s late?” He nodded at JJ’s statement. “Yeah, I get it.” She frowned while her fingers played with the papers on her hands. “I called her about four times, but she didn’t pick up.” She confessed.

“I’m going to ask Garcia if she knows something.” Hotch walked away with a hurried pace straight to Penelope’s office.

“Oh captain, my captain!” Penelope said with enthusiasm and he greeted back.

“Think you can help me with something?” Penelope nodded. “Off the record.” 

Hotch could only hear Penelope’s fingertips typing against the keyboard, but his mind was anywhere but there, and even knowing your exact location wasn’t enough.

Excusing himself, Hotch left the building leaving questioning faces behind, and drove as fast as he could. He even took the stairs, climbing four steps at a time till he reached your floor. He knocked once, but you didn’t answer, and the second knock didn’t come, cause he took the knob just to find out it wasn’t locked. He quickly opened the door and burst into the house in a rush. After this everything moved in slow motion for Hotchner, he looked at the floor and found a blood pool under your unconscious body. He ran to untie you and quickly moved his hand to feel your pulse, and for the first time since his arrival to your home, he felt his lungs breathing once again. Using that sudden sense of reality, Hotch was able to make the 911 call.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry.” Hotch said while hugging your fragile body. “Help is on the way, please hold on to me.” A tear drops down Hotch’s face while watching your pale face. “Please, don’t leave me.”

~~~

“Just five minutes more and she wouldn’t make it.” Rossi nodded. “That's what the paramedic said.”

“Aaron, you were just in time.”

“I could’ve done better,” Hotch said leaning into the doorway of your hospital room.

“Why are you blaming yourself like this? This was out of our hands.” 

“But, I could’ve stopped it, if I just would’ve left with her.”

Rossi arched his brows with confusion and opened his mouth to argue back, but the brunette agent interrupted him.

“Actually, no one could’ve stopped it.” Both older men looked at her with intrigue. “I mean if someone would’ve done his work correctly, then of course.” She said while rolling her eyes. “But Penelope just told me that the unsub's name is Gordon Walker, caught in Indiana with a whole arsenal of illegal weapons. Our lady here gave the order for his arrest to the local police .”

“Why would she…” Hotch stopped in the middle of his argument, now he was sure this was part of one of your special cases.

“I know, weird, it’s not her jurisdiction.” Emily continued. “But three days ago, Gordon escaped prison, No one saw him leave, and they didn’t even know he was gone before today.”

Hotch nodded got up from the waiting room chairs, and took your room's knob while looking at Rossi. “You and the team find him, I’m going to stay here till she wakes up.”

—-

After twenty-four hours of unconsciousness, your body and mind finally began to cooperate with you, and you managed to let out a little whimper as your limbs started to recover movement. Suddenly a familiar but tired face appeared in front of you.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” You said with a weak and raspy voice. “Are you my heaven?” You said reaching his face with your hand.

Hotch rolled his eyes but let a little smile escape. “You scared the crap out of me.”

“Well, that’s not a nice thing to say.”

Hotch frowned. “You almost die, I alm-...we almost lose you.” He immediately corrected himself, but it wasn't necessary, you weren't making any sense either.

“I know, I spoke with an angel.” 

“Really? What did you talk about?” 

“That you and I are going to get married.” He couldn’t hide his chuckle. 

“You are on a lot of drugs right now.” 

“Believe me, I know, they’re the good ones.” You said while nodding.

“Do you remember anything?” You could see the concern in his face and with a whole minute of delay, you managed to remember why you were there.

“Oh fuck, I need to warn them.” You start to get agitated and the monitor beeped at the rate of your heart race.

“Hey, hey, I’m going to call the nurse, and then we can talk about it.” Hotch tried to reason with you.

“No, you don’t understand, they are in danger.” 

“Who?”

[quinngefail]

[TAKE TWO. COZ THIS POSTED BEFORE I WAS DONE EDITING IT RHGHHHH]

But uh.

Okay :) Folds hands together :) Steamy thoughts with the Chainshipping ladies :)

Putting a cut, it centers around very passionate making out- so like. Nothing super explicit. But still lmao, just in case ^_^

[Gonna ramble a bit to set this up lol. So uh I was thinking about one morning with the two of them, before Lorraine has to leave for the day. She's all dressed, while Addie's still in sleepwear; she's never been a morning person, but still gets up to spend some time with Lorraine, and say goodbye and and all that. Then she'll go the fuck back to bed for at least another hour or two LMAO. But anyway they're in the doorway, and Lorraine says that she'd like to give Addie a little something before she goes. And Addie assumes this means the little 'thing' they've been doing, where just before they part ways, they'll take turns kissing each other's cheeks. So Addie happily closes her eyes, and turns her head to the side for her kiss. It's then that she feels fingers gently take hold of her chin, and tilt her head back towards Lor.]

"Oh, no, darling... You deserve more than that,"

That hand then trails down to Addie's shirt collar, and begins to pull her towards the closest wall. "Stand right there, and face me." Lorraine lightly commands, giving a gesture to the floor. While Addie's heart was already starting to beat out of her chest, she does as she's told with no hesitancy. Lorraine never exactly had to tell her twice when it came to these sorts of things, after all.

"Mm," Lorraine hums in approval. "Good girl,"

Those words alone sent a surge of arousing chills through Addie. It was her weakness, and of course, Lorraine knew it. Giving a satisfied smile at her work, she began to move in closer... And up until now, Addie never thought there could be seduction in something like hanging a cane on a nearby coat hook. But, like with countless things, it was Lorraine Gordon who could prove otherwise; acting with a slow, provocative sort of grace, before turning her attention back to her beloved, flustered darling.

Suddenly, she clutched two haphazard handfuls of Addie's t-shirt, and crashed her larger form against her, leaving absolutely no room between them. Addie, now utterly pinned, hardly had time to gasp before her lips have been captured in Lorraine's. Between the stiffening of Addie's body, and the tipping of her head, the difference of their heights are null as Lorraine continues her passionate barrage of kiss after kiss. It's not long before she's lost course, diverting from Addie's lips to her cheeks, nose, chin, neck... It hardly mattered to either of them, though, as they fell further and further into heavy, heated desire, hands wandering lower, and lower, until...

Lorraine has to fully pull away, her reddened face bearing a breathless, proud grin. Addie, on the other hand, has to keep her flushed, disheveled, lipstick-stained self from completely collapsing.

"H... Holy fuck," she breathes out. "P-please, Lorrie... More,"

But, as Addie begins to lean in, a finger is pressed to her lips.

"Tonight, dear." Lorraine smiles. "I'm afraid I have to leave now. But," she trails off, and lowers herself to Addie's ear. "Just consider this something for you to think about today. Okay...?"

Addie wants to object, as the warmth of Lorraine's body parts from hers. She wants to pull her back, wrap her arms around her, and let the time slip away from them. She wants the both of them to just go back to the bedroom, and continue there. She wants to see where arousal will take them this time. She nods, though, with a quick sigh. "Yeah, alright. Tonight, then."

With a pleased nod in return, Lorraine retrieves her cane, gives Addie's cheek one last peck, and the two say their goodbyes for now.

However, once alone, it doesn't take long at all for Addie to realize something. She's been left with a sort of gift, intentional or not. Because while the lipstick washed away, something else remained... The unmistakable smell of Lorraine's perfume, tortuously clung to her body.

...Fuck.

[m-jelly]

oh! lebi with a world famous and very much loved chef! whos kind of really iconic (almost like gordon ramsay) and is just THE shit.

My sweet chef

Levi x fem!reader

Modern AU, fluff, romance, married, famous reader, chef reader

You have your wonderful husband join in in the kitchen for your tv show.

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @darkstarlight82 @emilyyyy-08 @notgoodforlife @demonic-bird @searriously

As the production team moved around and set a few things up for the show, you had your arms linked around your husband's neck. With smiles on your faces, you started decorating his face with kisses. Levi was in his happy little world as you did.

Levi hugged you tightly. "You're so amazing."

"I'm okay." You sighed. "I don't think I'm that good. I could be a better chef."

He lifted you and smiled up at you. "You're better than you think, my darling. You cook and bake things that anyone can do using low-priced things. You're a top-of-the-line chef, you have cooking programs and you help businesses that struggle. You're incredible."

"I wouldn't be this way if it weren't for your encouragement."

The producer approached you with a smile. "Mrs Ackerman, we are ready to go."

You gasped in delight. "Wonderful! Thank you." You pulled Levi along. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

Levi squeezed your hand. "I want to help. We agreed that this show would be about cooking together as a couple." He pulled on an apron. "Let's do this."

You welled up and nodded. "Yes."

The show was a lot of fun to film with Levi. With other shows, you work your way through it and have some laughs. However, Levi was making you and the crew laugh so much. Levi was a natural and good at cooking and baking with you.

Now and then Levi would kiss your cheek, stand behind you and help you, dance with you or lick something that you offered him. The two of you forgot about it being a show and just acted naturally together. The food seemed to come out even better than usual and your usual was of a very high standard.

The fun part was when you made something with Levi, you would try it together and then offer it to the crew to eat. You wanted everyone to have fun and get involved. Levi and you would point at the crew during filming and ask the questions. It wasn't all about you, it was about everyone and the enjoyment of food.

You thanked the crew and waved goodbye to them as they made their way out of your large home. "What a busy day, huh?"

Levi pulled you against him. "Fuck, you are stunning."

You giggled as he attacked your neck. "Thank you."

He picked you up before moving you into the living room. He held you on the sofa and smiled. "I'm so proud of you."

Your cheeks burned. "Really? That's so sweet of you. That means a lot to me."

He kissed you. "I love you."

You giggled. "I love you so much, Levi. I'm proud of you too. You're incredible to me and you're so handsome." You released a long sigh and straddled Levi. You massaged your fingers into his hair. "You really are the best." You caressed his cheek. "My soulmate."

He blushed. "You're my soulmate too."

You showered his face with kisses. "Do you want me to cook or bake you anything?"

He hummed. "So many choices, but I am a bit full from eating your food all day." He pouted and hummed. "How about something tasty like a dessert?"

You nipped his cheek. "You're a tasty dessert."

He growled at you. "No, you are."

[warnersister]

Star Cross’d

Jerome Valeska x Gordon’s daughter!Reader

Jerome Valeska x Reader

This couldn’t last forever. Nor could it last the remainder of the night. Your father; Jim Gordon, would find out soon enough and put a stop to all to all this nonsense.

Nonsense: the nights you’d both spent lying awake in eachother’s warm embrace, discussing all inevitable components that make up the matrix melancholy of the cogs of life. Shivering slightly under the thin covers, an early winter’s morn and nearing-replacement window panes sending an extra sharp gasp of cooling freeze, compliments of some state north of here. But the delicate gushing of blood through the fingertips that dance with solider-like coherency remind you of being alive.

Nonsense: the candy floss he had bought you the night you met, unknowing of your disliking to the sickly-sweetness of a fairground staple but you ate it regardless, noticing the dust particles falling from his wallet as he handed you the carnival delicacy: wide grin decorating a pearl-filled grin making your heart remind your head that regardless of your economical struggles recently, you truly were rich. An odd sparkle of a concoction of unintelligible senses that overwhelmed your consciousness with a haze-like hypnosis of enamour for the boy yet to receive a name.

Nonsense: having you sat in the front row; against your father’s wishes at his court hearing, eyes flickering mindlessly between you and the judge - amnesty ignoring his court-presented attorney to delicately study the breathing work of art sat behind him. Allowing his own fate to unfold if it meant he got to look at you that little while longer. His sentence to Arkham emitting a gasp from your lips, yet a sense of comfort knowing this somehow meant he wasn’t a mindless killer; he was ill. He wrestled his restraints to give you a finalising kiss to the back of your hand with a sincere tone, voice barely above a whisper as he made you vow to him to forgive him.

Nonsense: the letters stashed in the small shoe box in the bottom of your wardrobe, beneath a well-word pair of disregarded sneakers that acted as gatekeepers for some abhorrent alternation of Romeo and Juliet if Shakespeare was mentally disproportionate. The daily recorded scrawl of proclamations of love and mourning for the distance between the both of you, a somehow best yet illegible cursive getting progressively more dissipated as the page descended - adapting Lamark’s unacceptable theory as the boy evolved from a maladjustment killer to a love sick poet.

Nonsense: crying when you visited him, breaking down into a pool of tears as he appreciated your presence and worshiped your being to an alternative offspring of the Antichrist’s teaching; praying and begging for your mercy - your living self a shrine for his selfless obsession of palpitating sickness of his desire. Your small, naïve smile as you told him you understood, those countless, sleepless nights you lay away shivering in the cold and you ponder your own sanity.

Nonsense: being the first person whom he adheres to when broken out of the Asylum, climbing up a three-story dtysfunctioning drain pipe in the dead of night in the dismal rain of an autumnal Gotham oldhallow’s eve - thunder cracking as you shared a romantic desperation of the age old locking of lips, holding one another on the floor as though terrified the other would painfully disappear if they disimbedded their claws; leaving crescent shaped moon imprint on the skin.

Nonsense: having dates in the darkest hours to avoid disruption; dominating Gotham at three hands of two desperately pining adolescents; insanity of love a proclamation of their secession from the rest of world and society, a religious-like devotion to the other promised by a kiss at every goodbye and a smile at every hello.

Nonsense. The relationship between you and Jerome Valeska was utter nonsense; but the soft whisper-like kisses he leaves on the parting of your hair and down to the nape of your neck makes you alternately shiver as you allow yourself just that few more minutes of sinful indulgence.

[yona049]

𝐒𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Part 1

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Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

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Preview~

𝚈/𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝚓𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚢 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚎𝚝. 𝙸𝚗 𝙶𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚖 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚋𝚒𝚐 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚢 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚕𝚞𝚌𝚔, 𝚜𝚑𝚎'𝚕𝚕 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝙶𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚖'𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝙲𝚊𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝙲𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛.

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𝘿𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙡𝙖𝙞𝙢𝙚𝙧!!!

𝗜 𝗱𝗼𝗻'𝘁 𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀! 𝗧𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆 𝗶𝘀 𝗲𝘅𝗰𝗹𝘂𝘀𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗹𝘆 𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗽𝗶𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝗯𝘆 𝗗𝗖 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗶𝗰𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘀𝗲 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝘄𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝗯𝘆 𝗗𝗖! ^○^

Warnings :

○Poison.

○Fainting

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"C'mon Gordon! I took a 2 day ferry from Metropolis just to get here! The least you can do is let me see him!"

Y/n was following hot on Commissioner Jim Gordon's heels as he rushed though the police station.

"I don't need the damn Daily planet on my case! I already have the Gazette to deal with." he growls as he stops at his desk grabbing his lighter and cigarette case.

Y/n stops beside him glaring at him intently. She was a reporter who had one job, get a story on Gotham City's favorite vigilante. The Batman.

Gordon lights his cigarette before leaning against his desk and taking a pull from it. He puffs out the smoke before gritting his teeth and making eye contact with the reporter.

"Miss L/n, what makes you think I could get you an exclusive with the bat?" he says.

Y/n only gives him a look that makes Gordon roll his eyes at the stupid question. Only a reporter like Y/n would be able to figure out how the bat gets all his info and who from?

"Gordon, this is my one chance to get a promotion, a good one. You've known me since I was ten! C'mon, just this once." she whimpers almost like a puppy gripping her reporter bag slung over her shoulder.

The commissioner only sighs, shaking his head. "Not this time kid. This is something I promised your dad I'd never let you get involved with." 

He puts his hand on the top of her back and respectfully pushes her towards the exit, snaking their way through the busy police station. 

"Look, while you're here I'll buy ya a drink and we can do some catching up. It's been a while." he stops on the steps outside the entrance.

Y/n sighs and scratches her head out of frustration. "Yeah, I'd love to." she gives a genuine smile before saying her goodbye to The commissioner and walking off into the Gotham night air. 

She stops in the alleyway beside the police station and leans against the building wall. Taking her phone from her pocket she scrolls though the contacts and presses on the name "Glasses man"

Putting it up to her ear she listens to it ring out. Finally, a nervous voice plays out. 'Hey! This is Clark-ah Kent! Leave a message!' 

Y/n sighs before talking. "Hi Glasses, you’re probably asleep right now, I didn't realise what time it was before I called. Anyway, just calling to say you might wanna keep my seat warm. I got nothing from my source. I might just book a ferry home tomorrow. At least it means I can still throw paper planes at your desk. I'll-"

She stops when a shadow flies over the ally and heavy cape flutters echo through the night air. Her lips curl into a hopeful smirk as she looks up at the rooftop seeing the bat signal shining in the smokey clouds.

"Huh, my luck might have just changed." She ends the call and shoves her phone in her pocket.

She hurries deeper into the alley way and immediately she spots the fire escape. Y/n puts her hand on the cold iron ladder before she looks down at her shoes. "Ugh, no way I'm ruining these shoes too!"

After kicking off her shoes she starts climbing to the roof before she finally reaches the top and manages to climb onto the rooftop without gaining any attention. With bare feet she crawls behind a vent and peaks around it at the shining bat signal and two men standing beside it.

The Batman and Jim Gordon in deep conversation. This was her chance, she lifts her phone from her pocket and gets ready to calmly approach the masked vigilante.

A sudden whistle through the air catches her attention, a red cape shines even brighter as the bat signal shines onto it and slowly the S symbol comes into view.

Y/n moves her hand over her mouth to stop the excited squeak when Superman lands beside batman.

'Two heros? Oh! I'm definitely getting that promotion!' She thinks full of excitement.

Batman looks back at superman and his deep growled words manage to remind Y/n of where exactly she was and what her situation was.

"Did you find it?"

Superman nods and opens his fist to reveal a small vial of green liquid. It glows steadily reflecting against the confused look of Jim Gordon who takes it in his hand. 

"What is this? It looks like Joker venom." 

Batman gives a growl and shakes his head. "Not just Joker venom. My scanner is picking up fear toxin too. I'd have to do a deeper scan to be sure."

Finally, Superman looks up from the vial’s hypnotizing green glow. "Few hours ago, Batman alerted me of unusual chemical readings in a warehouse by the docks. Once I got there, I only found this swept into a corner. Looked like they left in a hurry."

 

Batman lifts his head." If Joker and Scarecrow are working together to combine their toxin's, we could have a bigger threat on our hands. And by the sound of it, there could be more." 

Gordon nods and gives an extensive sigh, rubbing the back of his neck, rolling the vial back and forth in his palm. 

Y/n lifts an eyebrow before using her phone to take a picture of the three standing together and looking down at the picture deep in thought.

'Two deadly Toxin's combined, what could the motive be except to cause chaos? Perhaps other villains. But Scarecrow and Joker aren't criminals without purpose, even if they are psychotic they wouldn't work together without a final goal.'

She turns her head back to the scene in front of her when a loud beeping sound interrupts her train of thought. 

The vial in Gordon's hand started beeping and perhaps out of reflex he tosses the deadly time bomb in his hand. 

Superman's eyes fly wide as he rushes to protect both Batman and the commissioner from an oncoming blast. 

However, the vial rolled across the roof until it finally hit Y/n's bare feet and her heart jumps to her throat. 

"Oh shit." she says out loud when suddenly the vial burst's open and Y/n gasps for her last bit of fresh air. 

She pulls her head to her knees and holds her nose, mouth and eyes shut. The toxic gas burns her skin and her eyes start tearing with the fumes banging on her eyelids.

'I can't hold it much longer. It burns!' 

Slowly she gives in to a lightheaded dizziness and falls sideways onto the ground letting her hand fall off her nose. 

Not a moment later the gas clears when Superman swoop's her out of the green gas. She hangs limply in his arms as they hover in the air for a second. 

Superman's gaze turns to pure horror when he sees his co-worker in his arms. Once the toxic gas has evaporated into nothing more than a tickle in the wind Superman lands back on the roof and approaches a worried Jim Gordon and expressionless batman.

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𝐈𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫𝐬! 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰! 𝐀𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐈 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤!𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠!

\ (•◡•) /

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[stories-of-the-nrm]

Time Doesn't Heal All Wounds Part 7

Narrator: It was now February, 2008. As promised Gordon went to visit his brother.

(We see Gordon sitting down by Scott's bedside).

Gordon: Hello Scott. Happy Birthday.

(He grabs Scott's hand).

Gordon: A lot has changed since I last saw you. Do you remember the Peppercorn that the A1 Steam Locomotive Trust started working on? You know, the one being built in Darlington?

(Gordon pauses as if Scott can answer).

Gordon: Well, I just heard the news that the engineers have officially completed the tender. Combined with a successful first static firing, I believe this engine will get introduced to the railway before the end of summer.

(He shakes his head).

Gordon: As for you, the latest update about your boiler is that a quotation was sent to a contract manager. I find it quite pathetic that a company such as Pridham managed to lose complete control of such a project. At this rate, work will likely resume at the end of the year.

(He sighs).

Gordon: My greatest fear is that the Peppercorn will pass its trials and become a functional passenger engine before work on your boiler can even begin again.

(He watches Scott breath then pats his hand).

Gordon: Your crew will be here shortly. Sir Topham Hatt is expecting me soon as well. As soon as they get here, I must take my leave.

(Gordon stays by Scott's side until Gary and George arrive).

Gary: Thank you for being here with him, Gordon.

Gordon: As much as I would say it was my pleasure, there is nothing pleasurable about these circumstances.

(George pats Gordon on the shoulder).

George: Indeed. At least you were able to visit your brother as promised.

Gordon: I had to. Scott is my only brother. I lost so many years because of poor management. This is all I can do to make sure I have no regrets in case...

(Gordon can't finish his thought. While no one wants to think about Scott's engine being scrapped, it's still a possibility that has to be considered. After all, it's always possible that Scott simply can't be fixed anymore).

Gary: We understand Gordon. Don't worry. Your brother could never be scrapped. The NRM wouldn't be able to scrap him anyway. The amount of money spent on him only to scrap him would mean they're admitting that they've lost complete control over everything.

(Gordon nods).

Gordon: Yes I agree. I need to keep my hopes up. The hope that everything involving my brother's rebuild will restart again.

(He looks at Gary and George).

Gordon: How long can he stay like this?

(George sighs).

George: None of us knows. We can only assume that so long as his engine exists he won't immediately die.

(Gordon rubs his eyes).

Gordon: Why do I have a strong feeling that this is a process that will take more than a year to complete?

Gary: Because deep down we all know it could come true. All we can do is support Scott. Even if he can't hear us, I always think that he can sense us in some way.

Gordon: Thank you.

(He looks at the clock).

Gordon: I really must go now. I hope you gentlemen have a good day.

Gary: Um Gordon. How did Scott usually celebrate his birthday?

(Gordon chuckles).

Gordon: With food of course. He always enjoyed eating despite our human forms not requiring it. I can tell you this story some other time, but I still remember our first time trying food quite fondly.

(This seemed to have lifted everyone's spirits. Gordon waves goodbye as Gary and George take up their daily vigilance again).

Gary: Well George this is going to be some day.

George: Yeah.

(Gary looks at George).

Gary: You up for a round of ale at the pub later today?

George: Of course I am. After all, this is Scott's birthday.

(The two laugh to themselves. Acting as if Scott isn't in a coma is the only way to make the day more cheerful).

Tagging: @bluy1206, @werbitssft, @klein-sodor-bahn, @theyellowroseofsodor, @juniebugsss,

@tornadoyoungiron, @pxmun, @nelllia, @pxmun2, @thefedoragirl,

@roosinii, @etherealcaprifandoms, @jessica-sv509510, @jayde-jots, @thatcheeseycandle,

@jordeynnotgordon, @be-kind-and-rewind-again, @hardchildpainter, @asktheoriginalorder, @onyx-and-friends,

@that-mr-e, @sustysteel198, @monika-396, @fabianvalencia561, @gordon208,

@savannahlee-d29, @bladexjester, @sketalya, @agent-7-at-your-service, @i-heart-ukrain3,

@engineer-gunzelpunk, @ladychandraofthemoone, @milkagaisme, @rushingexpress, @toast-com,

@rumivi, @monstersteam, @tronmike82, @moonlightcrystal12, @lorainedoesthings,

@edward2289, @siberian-lioness, and @viktuurishipper96.

[astranite]

CH2 Coming Home Loudly

John isn't okay because it sure is lonely up in space. Scott follows through on his promises; he's here for his brothers and nothing, not even the distance between Earth and Thunderbird Five could stop him. Gordon is also Making Sure This Happens. --After suffering in silence, John comes home.

@janetm74 's Suffering In Silence which this follows. Ch1 upon tumblr.

@lying4sport

---

It had been twelve weeks since anyone had last hugged John or touched him at all. Scott would've been the last, leaving him on Thunderbird Five months ago with a quick squeeze of his shoulder to say goodbye. If Scott had known then that it would be for this long or had put together the pieces about the debacle with Alan already, he would have given in to the urge to tackle John into a hug, professional dignity while on duty be damned. He only had now and his brother in his arms.

All things considered, the stifled sob John let out was far from surprising. 

How he tugged away from the contact fully was even less so. Scott let him go, not forcing his brother to put up with his personal space being invaded when he was so unused to having anyone else around. He wouldn't anyway, even if his own heart ached. John needed physical affection to be on his own terms as much as he did need it.

John's arms went back to hugging himself as he rocked on his feet from heel to toe and back again, sniffling. "It's really nice to have you here."

"I'm glad to see you too. I really am," Scott replied. That barely begun to express how badly he wanted only to sit at John’s side and talk about anything or nothing at all, simply to be close.

Pretending to inspect the big ol' International Rescue sign became far more interesting as Scott turned away to let John surreptitiously wipe at his eyes. Spelled out in blaring capital letters, it was underlined red on the front of their space station

Funny how they had built this massive sign into Thunderbird Five up here where only John saw.

Scott ran his hands through his hair. He'd heard his brother's voice, seen his image through their communications array every day and near every mission since John had last rotated out, but it didn’t compare. Never could. It had been so damn long since he'd actually been physically in John's presence. 

He missed him ever so much.

He spun back to John, slowly to give him warning but too fast because right now he needed his brother in his sight. John seemed a bit more with it, the mask of Thunderbird Five, the larger than life promise of salvation overshadowing the very human operator slipping back into place. There were still cracks in it to see his brother through as John fidgeted with his uniform, twisting his fingers around his baldric until it crumpled.

He was more the utterly exhausted, probably covered in mud and hangry level of put together of the others after a mission, than John's usual never less than perfect. Scott would take what he could get though. If John started crying again, Scott couldn't guarantee he wouldn't either. 

"You ready to head home?" Scott said suddenly. 

He craned his neck around to look at the gleaming control panels, their blinking lights shining as brightly as they should. There. Sorted. Given this was John, of course it was: he’d never leave Five anything less than gleaming. They could go home.

John paused, his movements dying down into unnatural stillness. He lifted his chin, looking Scott straight in the eye like he was presenting his case before a committee of the entire world judging him, instead of it only being them. 

"No."

The single word came out blunt anyway.

Scott tensed up. To leave without John… he couldn’t—

Scott forced himself to take a deep breath. John wasn't exactly making sense, but when it came to his oh so clever little brother, it was most often Scott who was missing part of the equation.

"You don't want to? Or is there something else?" he asked, hesitant. 

It was rare for John to be this thrown by anything. But then this wasn’t an everyday situation, or rather it never should’ve become one so ceaselessly.

“Jay, what’s going on?”

Scott didn’t know how not to worry.

"No!” John shook his head frantically. “No, I want to go home."

His hands flailed through the air as if he was trying to sketch out a diagram of the problem for Scott. They rose upwards before John brought them down fast, flicking them, flapping them in rapid, repeating succession.

It struck Scott how long it had been since John had let him see him do that. With came the piercing realisation of long since he’d been physically in front of John to see him. In front of a camera and across comms, John held his hands below the field of view unless one was delicately wrapped around his microphone.

A tiny piece of the tension eased. John took a deep, shuddering breath, placing his words deliberately: "Father told me to pack my bags. I'm not packed. So therefore I'm not ready.”

To leave without John… he couldn’t—

As Scott reached for him, out of an instinct to comfort his brother in any way he could, John flinched back. He flattened himself against the wall, limbs compressed inwards as if he wanted to to sink through the glass and disappear into the star punctured void outside. 

John had always had the talent of making himself small. Scott was the one here on Five who was too loud and out of place.

 “So therefore I can’t go home,” John murmured. Or rather he mumbled, barely audible syllables clinging to each other instead of cutting through the noise clear as day. Scott had nicknamed the latter as his newsreader's voice once upon a time, on a day they’d been messing about over the comms as each brother requested John do different voices and Jeff pretended to not hear. 

It was what the world heard of Thunderbird Five, through and through. But not all there was to him.

Scott's hands found their way into his own hair again, tugging at it. He hadn’t thought. Grabbing him into a hug wouldn’t work with John. Never had. Sometimes that meant Scott wasn’t sure what to do.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

This was unfair, so fundamentally unfair that Scott didn't know what to do with it. He wanted John, down on Earth for however long he needed, happy and safe, but this wasn't the kind of rescue where Scott could throw him over his shoulder and carry him out of the burning building. It wasn't that sort of strength Scott needed. 

What he needed was John’s own quiet strength, to calm and care for and carry people through to hope on only his voice. Yet what he had was himself.

[mysticficti0n]

All my attention Part 5

warnings- swearing, drinking, protectiveness, so much flirting

words- 4k

If you'd like to read the previous parts → All my attention series

a/n- so if you're new here I am British and cannot speak any German, I speak a little French, Spanish and Italian but German- no. I also do not trust Google translate so this is gonna be like an avatar thing (if you've seen the newest one Jake says that their language just became normal or something along those lines) so in reality this is all in German, you as a reader know German but, its wrote in English... make sense? no... well, sorry this part has taken a while-

(also would anyone want to be on a tallest?? plz put if you'd like to ♥︎)

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backstory- you are the 5th member of Tokio Hotel and you always thought the love was equally platonic between you and a certain guitarist... but what if that all changed?

I stood in my room ferreting through my clothes to find something to wear for the interview which was coming a lot faster than I thought, I decided on a army green booty skirt with a cream belt, a white tank top, gold jewellery and my hair tied back in a bun, my make up was pretty usual besides my red lips lined in black but I mean if I can pull it off- why not?

Hurriedly I grabbed my shoes, deciding on my chunky platforms and a purse holding lip gloss, lip liner, spray, my phone, a pen and keys. The boys and their families went home after breakfast around 10 meaning we could all spend time with our families for a few hours, the Kaulitz' left a little later as being our neighbours they didn't have much of a drive to get home. Gordon, the twins step dad agreed to driving us 3 to the studio while Georg drove him and Gustav as they lived near to each other

"Y/n sunshine! Tom is out side" my mom called from the bottom of the stairs

"okay!" I shouted back and came storming down the stairs, I saw my mom's eyes light up and a smile decorate her already beautiful face "like it?" I twirled

"You look wonderful! oh my- Martin get in here look at our daughter!" she called getting my dad in who was holding Stella "look!"

"Baba look pretty!" Stella grinned

"she does doesn't she, we'll be watching tonight sweetheart" with 3 quick kisses I ran out the house waving goodbye and Tom laughed as I stumbled down the step

"shut up look at the size of these I'm not exactly gain" I huffed steading myself, I looked up and saw the boy handing is arm which I gladly took to get down and jump the wall dividing our house

"we need your help- well I need your help, Bill wants your opinion on his fit but I don't know what to wear so I’m more important" Tom sighed, at the moment he was just in a wife beater and jorts, his dreads in a mess around his head "and- I need to show you something"

"well lets go then!" we hurried into the house and Bill was sipping a coke and smiled seeing me walk through

"Y/N YES LOOK AT YOU!" he snapped his fingers as I model stepped in, 'flipping' my hair and blowing a kiss "alright what about me?" he was in a black leather jacket, matching black skinny jeans, a Dimond skull belt and chains around his neck, hair on end (in a good way) and a deep smokey eye

"absolutely- I fucking love it!" he smiled getting all giddy "bad bitch vibes- or a good fuckable emo, either really" the boy blushed wrapping me in a hug

"okay go help useless over here now" I rolled my eyes and followed the other Kaulitz up the stairs to his room where clothes were dropped everywhere

"so... what happened?' I asked seeing him shrug "right well... these jeans- dark denim is a look then, where's your green and yellow cap?" I asked seeing him pull a draw open full of at least 50 hats

"what head thing?" he spoke opening the draw above "black?" I nodded opening his wardrobe and pulling a yellow and dark green print, white back shirt out (this is the fits)

"here, change" I spoke seeing him pull his vest off and quickly put the new shirt over, he was finally done fixing individual strands of hair in his ponytail and sprayed a dark smelling cologne on "okay that looks GOOD" I complemented seeing a smile form on his lips

"oh I can show you the thing now" he laughed walking into the hall and bring a small box back in "look I'm proposing!" he got onto his knee holding the said box

"oh Tom-" I played pretending to wipe my eyes "I do!" he shoved me away and opened the box revealing a small ring- gold and had our band logo engraved in it "holy shit! thats amazing!" I called pulling the ring out "do we all have one" the boy excitedly nodded pulling his hand up showing a bigger and chunkier version

"mom got them for us 5, they're so cool" I nodded admiring the metal around my finger "Bill's and Gustav's are in silver as they prefer it"

"god I love your mom" I sighed happily standing up and walking into the hall "THANK YOU SIMMY!" her laugh filled the hall followed by a 'no problem doll'

"KIDS COME ON WE NEED TO GO!" Gordons voice echoed from down stairs and in great style and slow steps me and Tom got into the car, in the backseat as Bill was first in "we have to hurry up its already 25 past" he grumbled starting the engine

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"Welcome to the red seats- Tokio Hotel!" our interviewer names Karter Male introduced, monsoon began playing in the background followed by many screams, Bill was pushed on first closely followed by the rest of us and as we all came into view the noise only got louder "ahah welcome!" we all smiled waving to the people

"hi!" we laughed, Bill was closest to the table followed by Tom, me Georg and Gustav who were relaxing back into the seats "thank you for having us" Bill began

"no its our pleasure, so would you like to introduce yourselves for the people who don't know you all?" we nodded and looked to our lead singer

"oh- I'm Bill Kaulitz, lead singer on Tokio Hotel"

"Hey, I'm Tom Kaulitz, his brother also older by ten minuets and I play electric guitar for Tokio Hotel"

"hello, I'm Y/n Y/l/n, the backing singer for Tokio Hotel" I herd a wolf whistle come from the audience causing me to giggle "thank you" but the boy to the left of me face dropped but I tried to ignore his mood

"evening, I'm Georg Listing and I play bass for Tokio Hotel"

"hi I'm Gustav schäfer and i play drums for Tokio Hotel" claps filled the room and the interviewer grinned

"so now we know you recently got back from doing a mini-tour sort of thing right?" murmurs of 'yes' and 'yeah' ran through us five until Bill started talking

"yesterday actually, we did our last show in the afternoon and all went back to Y/n's parents house for the night and seeing our families was a massive relief as we hadn't seen them in weeks"

"thats wonderful, well going back onto your small tour we herd in Tier that there was a new song? and its was sang by Y/n, can you tell us little about that?" Karter looked to me and I looked to the boys who gave me the nod

"of course, it's called 'Don't jump' and it has so much meaning and I mean nobody has all day to listen to me ramble but its from when I was in a very dark place due to privet things and instead of being sad 24/7 I made it into lyrics and I finally performed it in Tier, I think next shows when we play it Bill will sing as he's much better than I am" I laughed hearing the crow 'aw' at me "but yeah its a beautiful song- not to blow my own horn or anything" The interview carried on and the boys getting asked different thing then turned to the 'public questions'

"so we've had a few questions from your adoring fans who will be watching from home, this one is for all of you actually- from Hallie, 15, she said 'hello Tokio Hotel, my question is- are you all single or seeing people?' so?" I watched as Georg and Gustav nodded their heads saying 'yes we are' Tom and Bill also but then I remembered I hadn't come out publicly about my spilt yet

"yeah we all are" I spoke hearing a gasp but quickly brushed it off

"well erm... next question for Tom from Suzana 'Hey Tom, I was wondering if you have a type?'" the audience laughed as the guitarist became a little tense, scratching his neck

"well.. if you're pretty and have a nice smile I don't have a issue" girls in the crowd cheered and a blush covered his cheeks, I patted his shoulder to which he looked back to me pulling his lips taught as if to say 'what the fuck'

"right, our next questions will be from the audience!, so let's start" we watched a runner hop up the stairs to a smiling blonde girl who was wearing a tour shirt

"Hi! I'm Rebecca and I have a question for Gustav!" we watched as the boys eyes lit up and a smile spread on his face "I was wondering what your favourite song- out side of the band- is to play?" that was surprisingly quite a nice question

"oh erm... I like quite rock sorta music so probably Nirvana?" she thanked him and blew a kiss to which his cheeks only got redder, the runner went to another girl, smaller and younger looking with brown piggytails

"hello... I'm Francine and I have a question for Y/n" my eyes softened seeing her nervousness

"lets hear it!" I grinned

"I- I was wondering whats your favourite colour and why? because I think you look beautiful in green and purple!" she giggled making me pout at her sweetness, Tom was smiling at me as I held my heart

"aw thank you Francine thats so nice of you, I'd say my favourite colour is... baby yellow though I never wear it, my mom calls me sunshine and that colour reminds me of her" the girl said her thanks and the questions continued

"so this will be our last question for Tokio Hotel tonight as our show is near an end!" Karter spoke pointing to the camera and it spun to the last fan

"hey guys! I love you all so much by the way- but my question is for Tom and Y/n" me and the boy looked to each other then back to the brunette "I'm guessing you've seen the ships between you on social media?" being the only girl in a group of 4 boys sometimes came with it's downsides, those being 'shipped' with all of them and people making up rumours "the most common being that you two secretly love each other, well I was wondering if any part of that was true?" I let my laugh slip but Tom's brows furrowed

"yes I do love Y/n, she's one of the most important people in my life of course but the way people make us out is completely wrong- she's like a sister I mean she may as well be related to me and Bill we've know each other since we were what born?" I nodded listening to his words but I couldn't help but know that everything the fans imagined wasn't completely wrong.. and he knew that too

"yeah like he said we love each other but its platonic!" I added seeing the crowd sigh at the disappointment

"you'd make a good couple though" Karter added "you'd be the hottest new thing since people like Ashton Kutcher and Demi Moore" I rolled my eyes at the words but Tom seemed to like the idea and shoved me with his elbow "thats all we have time for folks, thank you Tokio Hotel for being here tonight! bye!" we all waved and the crowd applauded, the lights dimmed meaning we all had to go backstage.

"he's gonna come back here in a second to have photos with you guys so if you'd like to wait in the dressing room please feel free!" a runner smiled looking to us pointing up the hall, we all walked into the air conditioned room and fell onto the matching red sofas from set

"that was I think the most comfortable interview we've ever done" I spoke scratching my head, fixing my hair. Tom scoffed folding his arms "what? don't you guys agree?"

"I think he was playing favourites all the way through" Bill spoke opening a water "but yeah it was fine"

"I agree" Georg added, I personally didn't know what their issue was but I mean they are edgy, angry teen boys anything ticked them off. we sat in silence until the door opened with Karter smiling widely at the five of us

"Ah Tokio Hotel- thank you for tonight it went beautifully! shall we take some photos?" he asked fixing his suit jacket as we all stood "perfect, follow me" he instructed going out the door, Bill grabbed the door before It slammed into us all and held it open nodding his head allowing me first to which I whispered a quick thank you and slipped through following the man "okay so erm.. shall we have twins next to me, then Y/n on this side with Gustav and Georg" we all lined up in front of the photographer who was bending with a camera

"3...2..1" he spoke clicking the button and a flash blared our eyes "grate, we'll get a few more" he spoke fixing his position

"so what did you think of the interview guys?" Karter asked looking to his side "fun?" his hand which was now on the small of my back jolted slightly

"ah yeah it was nice we were just saying" I answered as the boys stayed silent "the people who asked the questions were so sweet" the photos continued and so did his hand, slowly his hand went my hip, thigh and then as he moved it to my ass I pulled away "were not doing that" I quickly spoke pulling my own hand away from being behind him

"sorry- its very inviting!" his eyes narrowed looking down and back up to me

"we're fucking done-" Bill started walking out the room and going to the exit door followed by Georg and Gustav as he shouted curses

"Y/n come on" Tom grabbed my arm shoving the man out the way "she's fucking 17 you prick" I didn't get a look at the man after that before Tom was yanking me through the doors out the building to the car where his step-dad was stood "were going straight home"

"Bill went with the lads" Gordon pointed as Georg's car pulled from the space with a roar of the engine "come on we need to be quick the meal is in like an hour and a half"

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"hey darlings how was the interview?" Simone asked as we went into the Kaulitz' house "it looked good"

"we're never going on that show again" Tom murmured walking to the kitchen and grabbing a drink from the fridge "fucking looking Y/n up and down like she was someone to hook up with"

"what!" Simone started looking to me "are you okay sweetheart?" I nodded my head realising what Tom said

"anyways I need to shower" the twin grumbled walking up the stairs "Y/n I need you first" he shouted back down the stairs

"oh okay- sorry Simmy I'll be back" she smiled turning back to the tv as I made my way up the stairs to the boys room where I could here him shuffling about saying things to himself "Tom?" I walked in to see him standing at his mirror top off and belt half way undone

"shut the door" I did as he said looking at him oddly, I turned and shut the door behind my self and looked back to him "you didn't see what he was doing that whole interview did you?" I shook my head no "right well we all did, he was trying to see up your skirt- stared right at your tits, lips, eyes, legs- everything" I felt a lump in my throat as his brown eyes became darker looking at me "and no man can do that to you-" I nodded stepping over to him and wrapping my arms around him hiding my face in his color bone

"well though I fucking hate that- I'm okay don't get worked up okay? this sounds so cringy but he can't touch me like that ever again either because I'll brake his wrist" Tom looked down to me with a small smile spreading along his lips as he played with his lip piercing

"yeah nobody can ever fucking touch you there" I rolled my eyes seeing his eyes go serious in a jokey way "unless its me of course"

"oh yeah- of course, anyways you need a shower and come my house after help me chose my outfit for tonight" he nodded hugging me back quickly before going to his shower leaving me to go back home

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I was sat in my bedroom flicking through my radio until I found a station playing a song I liked, Brittany Spears started playing, I started dancing around my room like I was her and nodding my head along to the lyrics of freak show 'Make it a Freakshow freakshow We can give 'em a Peepshow, peepshow Don't stop it let it flow Let your inhibitions go It's a crazy night Let's make a make a freakshow'

"Y/n!" I scream left my mouth as I turned to see Tom stood in my door frame laughing "what the fuck are you doing?"

"can you knock! I think I shit myself" he pulled his fist to the door and knocked with a cocky smile "haha" I spoke sarcastically, soon he fully walked into the room and my jaw did nearly fall to the floor, he was in black suit bottoms and a white button up blouse, rings around his fingers and his necklace on show, dreads in a messy bun

"wow! you look good! pulling out all the stops Thomas" I complemented seeing him become a little shy "genuinely you look amazing"

"thanks, I mean were going to the Stadtpfeiffer restaurant so I wanna look good" he popped his chest looking at himself in the mirror "what are you wearing?" he asked looking at me as I stood in joggers and a tank top

"a dress but can't decide which, wanna chose?" I'd never seen him walk quicker in my life, the doors flew open revealing all my 'fancier' clothes and his hands moved quickly through the hangers, until he pulled a red dress with a black rose lace pattern on top "really? don't think this might be a bit scandalous for a family dinner?" Tom smirked placing the dress onto the chair and turned back to the wardrobe "wait- no don't open tha-" I watched as his hand reached for the draw full of my 'sexy' clothes

"fucking hell Y/n how many thongs do you need?" he laughed looking back at me, he dug through them until he pulled a red lacy Victoria secret pantie out and threw it at me "here, wear that underneath" with a sigh I went to the bathroom and slipped into the clothes, I stared into the mirror and regretted ever letting him chose my outfit "let me see!" he called from the other room

"okay-" I walked into my bedroom and his eyes widened, lip tucked between his teeth and his hands dug harder into the bed "like?" I asked twirling

"like is a understatement" Tom hummed "god you look so hot right now- I literally don't have words" a small blush painted my cheeks as I stepped into my full body mirror, I turned to check my reflection but all I could see was the guitarist staring in awe

"my eyes are here" I laughed seeing him nod "okay well make up and hair now" the boy seemed to be confused "what?"

"you don't have make up on?" I shook my head turning to him "so you are just naturally gorgeous? fuck" I rolled my eyes sitting on the chair where the dress once lay, I pulled my make up draw open and picked out my foundation and began the process I came to love over the tour, dark eyes and a dark red lip , next my hair I decided to have it straight down and hair-sprayed it into place

"okay I'm done!' Tom looked up from the magazine he found himself flicking through and a smile spread across his face "too much?" I asked seeing his head shake "sure?"

"you look perfect Y/n" I grinned standing and going over to the wall wear my jewellery hung grabbing a necklace and a few rings and bracelets "you need shoes" Tom quipped abruptly going into the box under my bed full of misilanious shoes, he rummaged through for a while before pulling out my chunky Mary Janes I sat back on the sheets of my bed waiting for him to hand over the shoes but he stayed down, grabbing my ankle and slowly slipped the shoe onto my foot "Tell me when the shoes tight enough alright?" I nodded seeing him thread the strap through and pulling it taught

"there" he quickly pressed the buckle through and moved to my right foot doing the same before kissing my bare knees "you are so cute Kaulitz" soon his hands reached mine and we stood together "thank you- I love it all"

"no problem"

The time ticked slowly as me and Tom waited for everyone to be ready as in fairness we were done quite quickly, I sat at the desk with my computer on, flicking through web pages while Tom was messing around with my ukulele that one day just appeared in my room. I scrolled down a page until I saw a subtitle of 'picture ideas' and I immediately knew what we'd be doing to pass the time, the first one was the girl holding the camera above the couple and the boy holding her- perfect

"come here were taking these photos" I called bring the boy back to me, he stood fixing his outfit and passing me my phone and standing with me "okay so you need to-"

"I can see what I've gotta do babe" Tom soothed into my ear, wrapping his arms around my waist and placing his forehead into the crook of my neck "take it" with a click of my button the photo snapped, and we did this about 50 more times, standing in the mirror, at the window, and my poster wall

"perfect" I smiled flicking through the pictures "we look so good" cheering I looked back to see Tom looking to me, eyes scanning my body and face "you okay?"

"fine, just can't stop staring" a blush tinted my cheeks, over the past few days the flirting gone from funny to romantic giving me new feelings of giddiness every time

"Tom your making me red" my cheeks were aching from the smile I couldn't hold back

"good"

┍━━━━━━━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━━━━━━━┑

the clock struck 8:45pm meaning everyone getting in the cars to go to the Stadtpfeiffer, Bill had come back earlier and so the Kaulitz went in their car and I went with my family, me and Stella sat in the back dancing along to the music playing on the radio "what were you and Tom doing Sunshine? I could hear you laughing like you've just seen the funniest thing in the world!" I sighed with a smile to her words

"oh taking stupid photos together" but they weren't stupid- anything but, every time I looked at one my stomach felt ticklish and my chest heaved with a feeling I couldn't explain

"oh very nice, you'll have to show me" I laughed at her words mumbling a line of 'sure' after another 20 minuets we finally arrived and it look beautiful, the yellow haze lights illuminating the entrance and fancy jazz music filled our ears "oh my-"

After us the Kaulitz' arrived, the boys walked straight over to me laughing about something "evening" Bill nudged to me "I have something to tell you after by the way" I looked oddly at the boy who only smiled and followed his stepdad to my dad, I turned to Tom who shrugged

"you smell good" I commented smelling his cologne

"Paco Rabanne" he spoke lifting his arm to me so I could smell it better "oh and send me those photos will you, I need them" his voice became seductive making my knees weak and I all I did was hum in response "thank you angel"

“Stop it Thomas- we’re in public” I giggled seeing his eyebrows rise

“That’s only gonna make me worse” my heart stoped for a moment at his words- what’s did he mean by worse?

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Eyes and Ears

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: An AU where Barbara finds Jason instead of Bruce.

Chapters: 20/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Barbara Gordon, Jim Gordon, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Sheila Haywood, Original Character(s)

Relationship(s): Jason Todd/Original Character(s), Past Barbara Gordon/Dick Grayson

Additional Tags: Canon Divergent AU, Older SIbling Barbara Gordon, Jason Todd-centric, Barbara Gordon is Oracle, Jason Todd is NOT Robin, Jason Todd Has Issues, Jason Todd Has a Crush, Adopted Siblings

Chapter Twenty: Bash/Ball

"Let me get one more picture," Jim smiled. Jason's shoulders slumped, and he sighed. "It's your first dance. I just want to make sure I get enough pictures. Now, Barbara, come take a picture with your brother—."

"Pop," Jason complained. Jim's eyes widened as he motioned for them to stand close to each other.

Jason held his cape up to his face as he stood next to Barbara. He looked over at her and whispered, "I'm Batman," in a gruff voice. Barbara let out a laugh, and Jim snapped a picture of the two of them laughing.

"This is the last picture, I promise," Jim whispered as he put the camera on a timer and set it on the kitchen counter. "I tested it earlier. Stand right here," Jim replied as he took one photo with Barbara and Jason. After that, Jason said goodnight to Barbara and followed Jim down to the car.

Jim waited a while before pulling off, and he handed Jason his wallet. "Get a twenty out of my wall—."

"You've got a picture of me in here," Jason whispered.

"Well, I think it'd be awful hard to brag about you without a visual," Jim joked, "But really, you're my son. Why wouldn't I have your picture in my wallet? Before this year is over, I'll probably have to build a mantle or something for all the new pictures."

Jason smiled as Jim drove. "I love you, Pop," Jason whispered. Jim took a deep breath so that he wouldn't get all choked up, and he smiled.

"I love you too, Son," Jim whispered, "And I want you to have fun tonight. If you don't call me to pick you up early, I'll be back for you at midnight."

"Do these things really run until midnight?" Jason asked. Jim nodded. "Wow. And you're okay with me staying the whole time if I wanna?"

"Yeah, why not. You stay at school 'til ten p.m. most nights, what's two hours difference?" Jim smiled. Jason put on his mask in the mirror. "I know you didn't go last year, but I was wondering if you were gonna go trick-or-treating with your friends this year?"

"I can still do that?" Jason asked. Jim nodded. "Well, I'll probably just go with Barbara or Reese and A.J. if they wanna go."

"You're not gonna ask the girls?" Jim asked.

"No, they go out of town for Halloween," Jason replied.

"A.J. and Reese are those football boys, right?" Jim asked. Jason nodded and chuckled.

Jim dropped Jason off at the dance and waved goodbye, and Jason entered the ballroom. He walked around the ballroom looking for his friends, and he was approached by a girl who told him he couldn't reveal his identity as part of the ball's theme. Jason nodded and adjusted his posture. Jason figured that if he was going to hide his identity, he might as well play a character. Jason got something to drink and stood with his back against the wall, holding his cup away from him and watching the other kids dance with his nose in the air. Jason committed to playing his own opposite for the night. He walked around the ballroom with his nose in the air. It wasn't until a boy much taller than him brushed his hand and he froze. Jason grabbed his hand, and they both stood there frozen in a crowd of people. The taller boy leaned down to whisper in Jason's ear. "May I have this dance?" he asked. Jason nodded.

"Perhaps," Jason replied as the boy led Jason in one slow dance before disappearing into the crowd. It wasn't until Jason snapped out of the shock of what just happened that he realized who he'd danced with. Jason didn't chase him. Instead, he walked out to the balcony and started pacing back and forth in a panic. A teacher dressed as a plague doctor came out and nudged him back inside, but Jason didn't recognize the voice. He obeyed despite his instincts to ask who the man was. He went back inside and decided to search for his friend.

Not too long after, he heard a loud pop and a hissing noise, and the last thing he remembered was the burning sensation in his eyes. He woke up in the emergency room feeling sick to his stomach. His hands shook violently as the lights burned his eyes. He couldn't see clearly. His throat was sore from whatever chemical he must've inhaled, barely managing to mutter a hoarse warning that he was going to be sick. He vomited into a sick bag and lay back. A hand touched his forehead and made sure the oxygen tubes were in his nose. "I've got you, son," Jim whispered, "Do you remember anything?"

Jason shook his head. His vision was still blurred from the chemicals, and he couldn't see who else was in the room with him. "Jason, literally anything. Try to think," Jim urged him.

"Plague doctor took me back inside," Jason mumbled. His head ached, and he felt pins and needles all over his body as if he couldn't come down from panic. He reached to touch his eyes, and Jim grabbed them. "I wanna go home."

"Jason, we don't know what you were hit with. Every emergency room in Gotham is packed with kids from your school, and it sounds like you're all going to be held overnight for observation," Barbara explained.

Jason closed his eyes and tried to calm down. Jim sighed. "We're not leaving your side, I promise," Jim reassured. Jason took a shaky breath. Barbara reached over and squeezed his hand. "We're thinking it's some sort of fear toxin, but it's not like anything we've ever seen..."

"Who called 9-1-1?" Jason asked.

"You called me," Jim whispered, "You don't remember calling me at all?" Jason shook his head and opened his eyes once more. The room was a little clearer to him, and he could see their faces.

Barbara tried to mask her anger, but Jason could see it written all over her face. She was furious. He couldn't tell if she was mad at him or at the situation, but he felt like he'd failed her. Jim seemed more concerned than anything. "I don't remember anything... I'm sorry," Jason whispered. Barbara stormed out of the room without so much as a word. Jason looked over at Jim.

"She's not mad at you. She just wants to know how this happened," Jim comforted Jason. Jim sat down by Jason's bedside. "It'll probably be out of your system by morning. I know you're probably still feeling a little anxious." Jason nodded and took another deep breath. "You didn't say much on the phone. You just told me there was gas at the school and that everyone was trapped."

[tracybirds]

FFF entry for Scott, riff off the prompt "quiet" aka give Scott some!thank you @gumnut-logic for both the prompts and the readthrough :)

Scott massaged his forehead, fingers moving without thought to the pressure points that would relieve the building tension. It was already too late, the headache blooming behind his eyes, and he leaned back with an involuntary groan.

“It’s too early for this,” he whispered to himself, the words half an admonishment and half coaxing him upright. “Come on, Tracy, keep going. Only…”

A glance at his watch sent Scott’s heart sinking.

He slumped forward, cradling his head in his hands, wondering if it was too late to call off the company address.

A shadow fell across the desk.

“Hey.”

It was all Scott could do not to flinch away from the sound.

There was a beat of blissful silence, before he heard the soft rustle of his brother crouching next to him.

“Scott, you don’t need to stay for this,” said John, his voice pitched low. “I was just coming to say goodbye, come back with us.”

Scott let loose a chuckle. “John, I think an eight hour flight with Gordon and Alan might actually kill me.”

“You could hide in the cockpit,” offered John, with a small smile.

Scott shook his head, closing his eyes against the wooziness.

“’M alright, Johnny,” he said. “Just need some quiet.”

“And a nap.”

“At nine in the morning?”

John shrugged. “Never stopped me. Are you saying you don’t want to go back to bed?”

“Yeah,” agreed Scott amiably. “I could sleep for a year still.”

His eyes stayed closed as John clasped his shoulder, the vibration shaking him down to his bones as John stood and moved into the other room.

Cupboards shut with muffled bangs and the tell-tale rattle of John rifling through the first-aid kit filled Scott’s ears and mind, too far gone to focus on anything other than immediate sensation.

With a great effort, Scott pulled himself to his feet, his muscles protesting their role in holding him upright against the immense weight of his own limbs.

“Here,” said John, handing him a glass of water and some pills. “Painkillers and anti-nausea. You’ll need it for the flight.”

“I’m not getting on the plane,” mumbled Scott. “I have to stay here.”

“They don’t need you,” said John.

The bluntness sent Scott reeling but before he could string together an objection John spoke again, his soft voice refusing all argument.

“You said you’d do it different to Dad.”

Scott’s gaze sharpened, the quick of his breath and the blood pumping waking his body faster than any medication.

“Dad did his best.”

“He did,” agreed John.

What John didn’t say meant almost as much as what he did say, but Scott didn’t have the capacity to puzzle out his meaning.

A vein pulsed in his temple, a dull pain echoing between his ears.

“Alright, I’ll come,” he said, reaching for John.

John slung Scott’s arm around his shoulder.

“Glad to have you."

[flowerflamestars]

Where the middle meets snippet

Llewellyn recognized the great love of Dick’s childhood by her cracked ribs. 

Watched her plow politely through the crowd, red hair bright a sea of black. She wasn’t quite as good at pretending she wasn’t in pain as Dick was, but then again, no one was. The grimace would probably be attributed to grief anyway.

“Thank god,” Were the first words Barbara Gordon ever said to him, huffing out a breath, “Tell me you’re here to ride herd on Dick.”

No was too much of an understatement, and his real answer didn’t belong in a church.

“Taping’s not standard treatment anymore,” Llewellyn was staring down the nave. A moving ocean of people filled Gotham’s cathedral, with one clear demarcation: Bruce Wayne, already seated, several feet of emptied space around him.

Llewellyn glanced down in time to catch Barbara's scowl. “What?”

“You’re increasing your pneumonia risk,” Wells told her, getting one long, disbelieving blink in response. “Further complications.”

She switched her purse from one side to the other, brisk little motion snappy. “Do you know he went out this morning? In civvies. He’s in too much pain to care what he breaks right now. We need to keep the city from imploding”-

“Hi Babs,” Dick interrupted, manifesting over her shoulder, despite having disappeared in the opposite direction. He dipped over to kiss her on the cheek before stepping right into Llewellyn’s side, pressing in shoulder to ankle. “You met Wells.”

“Yeah,” she nodded, gaze moving between them. “I’m so sorry, Dick.”

Llewellyn could only tell he’d gone tense because they were so close.

“Me too. Me too.” Dick answered, dead voiced. “Let’s sit.”

He didn’t say the goodbye Barbara clearly expected. Did not acknowledge a single person on their way through the church, no amount of opulent Gotham mourning enough to make him blink. Dick was moving quickly enough, sleekly untouched by the crowd, it was hard to keep up. Silently too, down to his steps on the vast marble floor.

Barbara Gordon was wrong about one thing: Dick cared.

Dick cared so much it was eating him alive, a black hole at the center of his person, gravity well yanking away daytime lies until a little too much of his true, devastated face peeked out.

That didn’t mean he was going to fuck up the double life he’d been living since he was ten years old.

Dick seemed to realize what he’d been doing as they drew abreast with the front pews. Turned to find Wells still right there, lifeless expression briefly melting.

There was nothing to say. Nothing that would actually help. Llewellyn held out his hand instead, and Dick took it. 

They sat.

Soft, gleaming, perfect cherry wood, ice cold. Not a single dent, even a child’s scrawled scratch, no homey living history, only the finest here in the heart of this part of Gotham. Wells didn’t remember the last time he’d sat on a pew, much less been in a church for service. Tattoos busy climbing to his throat in nerves, Dicks juddering knees- the only person on their row who looked like they belonged was Bruce Wayne, head ducked low.

Dick had sunk down several feet away from his father.

“What happens now?”

Llewellyn gave up on manners, drew in both Dick’s hands to his lap. “Mass? I’ve never been.” Dick nodded. “Was Jason Catholic?”

Another nod, flat gaze going glassy, before Dick said, softly, “His mom was. He used to wear a little saint Catherine.” Dick shook his head, smile fighting out like hell, “He punched a priest once.”

[elester01]

Traintober Day 24 Accepting - The Dying Throes Of An Immortal

TW - Major character death, implied/referenced suicide, potentially frightening scenes

Ever since he'd turned 62, Gordon had known this day would come. Since then, he knew he'd outlive everyone he loved. That was a fact he despised, loathed even, but it was one he couldn’t deny. Especially as he sat next to his wife as she lay on her deathbed, while he himself seemed comparatively in the final years of youth. They were in reality, the same age.

Words were not needed, nor were any actions more complicated than the holding of hands. Gordon and Joyce both knew very well that the best way of showing love was to be there for each other, and they were going to keep to that until they both drew their last breath.

Occasionally they exchanged “I love you"s and vows of silence so the last words they heard each other say would not be screams of despair and horror.

When the inevitable finally happened, Gordon tried his best to abide by the vow. And so he did. He sat there until her warmth finally escaped her, until rigor mortis set in, and until the nurses had to pry Joyce's freezing hand out of his own warm one. 

That was when he finally let himself cry.

When Emerson’s time came, Gordon was almost begging for his engine to be scrapped. But no, that would never happen. Not to such an antique, a national treasure as the locomotive he drove. The irony. Frequently, he found himself walking to the barrier line, wishing he could take a last step and for it to all be over. But no, he was never able to do it. It was always either his own conscience stopping him or a screaming Henry physically pulling him away from the fate he'd eventually, hopefully have.

So, on that fateful morning just after his first express run of the day, Gordon finally lost hope. It was funny how a simple phone call could do that. Why hadn't he been there? Why hadn't he been there to say goodbye to his own son? The son he'd once held in his arms as he thought “this is my future, and I will love him forever,” who was now most likely lying in a morgue in a place he couldn't even go to. Gordon doubted he'd even remembered him as he drew his last breath.

That midnight, Gordon Gresley once again failed to die.

The year 2044, ten years later, was the year that he finally succeeded. They found his body in the forest, exactly a mile and seventy-three feet from the siding he'd parked his engine on for the final time. There was a smile on his face, and not a single tear stain marred his skin. For the first time in 60 long years, Gordon had finally been happy. But why had it had to have been this way?