#because well.. looks left. looks right. yeah i am still a lesbian when it counts (cant fathom growing old w a man. boy. wtvr)
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wlw-mood · 11 months ago
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!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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kissorkill16 · 1 month ago
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Toxic Friends: A Hello Neighbor Fanfic
By JJ
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Summary: Finch and Delroy going from toxic to real.
(P.S., half inspired by @fazbearedits !)
If there were people you'd least expect to be friends, it'd be Finch and Delroy.
They weren't exactly best friends, they were second best friends, sure. They only got along because of their shared hatred for weirdos like Nicky Roth or Aaron Peterson.
And because Aaron scared them to death most of the time.
They surprisingly got along really well. They talked, sometimes ate lunch together, and they'd meet in some places in town to just hang out when they haven't seen each other in a while. Finch would always bring snacks.
"You got the stuff?", Delroy asked her one time they met at the dog park.
"Pfft, do I have the stuff? Hell yeah I got the stuff.", said Finch.
She pulled from her bag two boxes of sugar baked cookies and a small pack of soda.
"HELL YEAH!", Delroy shouted in excitement.
As they sat down at a park bench and chatted with each other, the conversation slowly started to turn a little...shaky.
"Dude, I can't keep bringing snacks for you.", said Finch, "If I do, you'll end up on that one show "My 600 Pound Life"."
Delroy looked at her like she just grew a tail, "What's wrong with being fat? Am I not allowed to be proud of who I am?"
"Not if who you are is a fucking whale."
Regardless, Delroy kept eating. But later, he couldn't help but realize that maybe Finch was right. He was getting a little bit too big.
So he started eating only half of his lunch and drink whenever it was time for lunch.
Another thing that Finch found weird about Delroy was that he never hung out with guys. Sure, he had friends who were girls, but not one friend of his was just...a guy.
"Are you gay or something?", she asked him once as they walked home together.
"No.", he said immediately, then he looked at her, confused. "Why?"
"Because for as long as I've known you, you've never had a guy friend.", replied Finch. "You're always hanging out with me and my friends."
Delroy couldn't help but roll his eyes, "So? You hang out with girls all the time, but I don't call you a lesbian."
Now it was Finch's turn to roll her eyes.
"Look, I just find girls easier to get along with. I live with my auntie after all, and we're inseparable.", said Delroy. "Also, I do have a guy friend. He -"
"Dog doesn't count. He's a pet, not a friend."
"He's man's best friend!"
As time continued to pass, their friendship stayed that way.
One time, Delroy found Finch crying by herself on a bench. When he went over to her, she jumped up and backed away.
"Easy, girl. It's just me.", he said. But that didn't calm Finch down.
"What're you doing here, dude?", she asked, a little snappier than usual. "I just saw you crying, so I'm here to comfort you and listen to the reason why you're being such a sad sack."
"None of your freaking business, dude!"
The girl scout got up and walked away, leaving her friend standing at the bench completely baffled.
When he went to go talk to her dad about it, he told him that Finch had been really moody and upset ever since she left Lucy's funeral. Delroy immediately understood.
Since Finch and Lucy were cousins, Delroy understood that she had a right to be upset.
But she'd been dead for over a decade now, and it didn't excuse why she was still more of a bitch than usual.
He thought maybe he needed some time away from her, so when the new girl, Trinity asked him to come along with her and her friend to the abandoned Golden Apple Amusement Park, he immediately agreed.
But when Finch cornered him to ask him about it, all hell could've broken loose in that moment.
"Why're you hanging out with Trinity?", she asked.
"Because I want to.", replied Delroy, "I might hang out with girls a whole bunch, but I can't spend every second with the same ones. I wanna make some friends of my own."
"But why with her?", the girl scout pointed at Trinity, who was getting something from her locker. "She's almost as crazy as Nutty Nicky. Not too long ago, she ran away from the lunch lady after she cut a piece of turkey."
Delroy rolled his eyes, "So? Maybe she's vegan, I don't know."
Finch felt like punching herself or him in the face, "Delroy, what's worse is that she's part of the freaking Inventor's Club! That's a nerd herd right there! You can't be seen hanging out with those geeks, or you'll end up like them."
Before Finch could rant on more, Delroy just turned around and walked away from his friend.
Finch kicked the locker in anger. "God!", she nearly yelled.
As time went by, Finch could only watch as her so-called friend hung out more with the Inventor's Club, with Nutty Nicky. What's worse is that he seemed to be enjoying it.
Even when her friends talked to him at lunch saying that they couldn't hang out with him anymore because he was hanging out with nerds, he couldn't care less.
It really drove the girl scout up the wall.
One night, Finch just got out of the shower, then she got a call on her phone. She dried herself off and quickly answered, and she so badly wished she hadn't when she heard who it was.
"Finch.", Delroy spoke through the phone, "Do you have time to talk?"
"Wouldn't you rather talk to one of your nerd friends?", asked Finch, "Plus, I'm busy. So whatever you have to say, say it fast."
"Dog got run over by a truck."
Finch nearly dropped the phone, but she continued to listen to Delroy rant about his dead dog.
"It's not fair, man!", he cried, "This is some - UGH! HE WAS MY BEST FRIEND!"
Finch rolled her eyes, "Delroy, he was a dog!", she said. "Get over it, you can always get a new dog."
"NO I CAN'T! DOG WAS SPECIAL!"
"Oh my God, you're so freaking impossible sometimes!"
"What is wrong with you?!", Delroy asked through the phone. "I tried comforting you when Lucy died, and you fucking pushed me away. Now that someone I love is dead, you can't show the tiniest bit of sympathy?! I can always get a new dog, but you can't get a new cousin!"
Before he could say more, Finch hung up the phone and threw it on her bed in anger. She got dressed and stormed out of her room, thinking that maybe some fresh air would help her clear her mind.
More time passed, from the newspaper article incident, to the broken camera, then Finch being forced to apologize to Nicky by the Inventor's Club.
Finch's friends told her that she wasn't allowed to be seen with them anymore, and Finch was absolutely destroyed. When Delroy confronted her about it, all hell broke loose at that moment.
"How's it feel to get a taste of your own medicine, hm?", he asked. "Shut up.", said Finch.
"No, Finch. You shut up.", said Delroy. "You're just experiencing how I felt after everything you put me through. And it hurts, doesn't it?"
The girl scout scoffed, "Could you blame me though? You were hanging out with the geek freaks! Especially Nutty Nicky! You don't even like him!"
"He's fun to talk to. Or at least he was until you and everyone else in the school fucked him up for no reason other than to be assholes!"
Finch tugged at her bangs in frustration, "I honestly don't see how you and I have stayed friends for so long without killing each other."
"I wondered that every day of our half friendship.", said Delroy. "And I'm not sure I want to be friends with you anymore. You make fun of my weight, my choice in friends, and you didn't offer me a sliver of comfort when Dog died. I'm done being friends with you, Finch. Have fun being a lonely nobody."
Then he walked away, leaving Finch to herself.
But as more time passed, Nicky had managed to convince Finch to join the Inventor's Club, and to convince the gang to give her another chance to be better. Everyone reluctantly agreed, and Finch had made some good progress.
She was being nicer, and she didn't talk behind anyone's back anymore. What's even better was that she didn't call Nicky "Sick Nick" or "Nutty Nicky" anymore.
Then slowly, her and Delroy's friendship had mended.
They weren't really back to where they were previously before they joined the club, but they tolerated each other enough to where they could talk to each other like real friends. Even lightly teasing each other here and there.
"Didn't think you'd find yourself here of all places, did you?", Delroy asked his girl scout friend as the gang ate their lunch together.
"No.", replied Finch, "But I'm glad I did. And I'm glad we're on good terms now."
"Ha. Yeah, me too, girl scout."
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talisidekick · 1 year ago
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Going from left to right, line by line:
>.>, <.<, ^.^, and -_- don't count.
Oversized hoodies are comfy, they're both warm and breezy and my trans ass has body dysphoria so a giant formless tube I can exist in is great and leaves my imagination the freedom to kick my dysphoria's ass. [x]
I can open jars. I got big hands, so I got grip. Recently learned there's an attractiveness to them I was unaware of that some lesbians drool over.
I'm 173cm or 5 foot 8 and 3/4 inches. I've been told that's short-ish by some but tall by others, I'm crossing this one off because a 4 foot 10ish girl said I'm "still short" and the Witch agrees too. [x]
I am NOT baby. I'll show YOU who's "baby".
It's basic typing etiquette. Let the other person type and respond. [x]
Fuck you. [x]
Spiders are the apex hunters of their size-class, even able to hunt ABOVE their size. I fear them because I know they're a frighteningly capable killing species in the making. Keep them AWAY from me. [x]
I make the first move every time, I just don't know that's what I've done.
Short nails. I'm learning guitar and I'm martially trained. I'd rather not punch and get my nails cutting into my hands thanks.
It's ... it's situational!!! [x]
I ask once, if it's a "no" I respect the descision but I will demand an explanation.
I'm ... yeah ... I like girls ... whatever. [x]
Absolutely not. Not ever. No.
I'm a graduated Computer Systems Technologist, Computer Programmer, and aspiring Software Engineer. I can do math.
Black, red, purple, and occasionally a dark green. I like darker tones.
I can drive, paralell park, and the only accident I was in was because a lady gunned the intersection at 60 in a 50 zone while the roads were fresh ice. I was pulling out, she couldn't stop in time, and I got hit. Insurance tried to hold me at fault but her fancy car recorded her speeding in icy conditions.
Yes, I can cook. [x]
If I like it, and it's in my size, I'll wear it. It's a sign I trust you. [x]
Yes, I have cats. [x]
I'm great at flirting, I just don't recognize that's what I'm doing. [x]
I used to be. Then I kind of realized the most dangerous thing in the dark is me. I am clumbsy, but also ludicrously well trained. Just attack me with the lights on, if I can see, my ADHD will fuck with me and ruin my balance.
[x] Just ... shut up.
I was deprived of them when I was younger, so I'm taking what I'm owed and thats fuzzy cuddleable stuffed animals. Look up tentacle kitty. I love them. I will not apologize. [x]
I'm oblivious, socially dumb, and a moron. I'll admit this. I've been described as a "Her-bo", a gay trans fem himbo. [x]
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Hah. Not a bottom. Was close there though, not going to lie.
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Oh thank god 😅
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fictionsmooches · 3 years ago
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PORCO X READER X PIECK
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Plot: after a small fight with Porco, Pieck helps (y/n) get Porco jealous, while also having fun with her.
Contains: sweating, degradation, Praia, name calling ‘slut’ whore’ ect.ect., oral sex, unprotected sex, thigh riding, lesbian sex, 18+ MDNI
Word count; 3k-ish
Classes had already been out for the day, and with a long weekend around the corner, you were more than ready to get this ‘Porco issue” sorted out. Your whole life felt like it was spent between Pieck and Porco. You three had formed a bond unlike any other. You shared secrets, hopes, and protected each other on and off the battlefield.
“Look (y/n), a small fire lit under his ass wouldn’t hurt him. Besides, he’s been awfully rude to me lately. I wouldn’t mind making him a little jealous myself.” Pieck said.
All week he had been acting funny towards you. A little too funny for your comfort. It all started when you and Pieck decided to hang out without Porco. He had been taking extra lesions from Zeke as of lately, so he wouldn’t come home until late. The dorms were too quiet to be alone. Your thoughts had rang too loud to be left alone with quiet ticks of clocks to keep you company.
Pieck had no roommate since Annie left for Paradis, so you decided to have a sleepover. The two of you spent the night swapping stories of the week and laughing over nothing. It was a well needed pleasant night. However, In the morning when you arrived home you could see the hurt all over Porco’s face. He was sitting up on his bed. He faced the door. Dark circles rimmed his eyes, you knew for a fact he didn’t sleep at all last night.
“Where were you? You know you worried me to death!” he yelled standing up. His loud tone took over the whole room. It was as if nothing else existed apart from you two in this room.
“Oh I'm sorry Pock.. I don’t mean to worry you. I just got lonely waiting here for you to come back so I had a sleepover with Pieck.” you spoke softly as if to sooth him. You really didn't mean to make him worry, that was the last thing you wanted.
“Well the least you could have done was left a note.” he said brushing passed you as he walked through the still open door. His voice was cold and numb. You hated seeing this side of Porco, the cold side of him.
You could deal with his anger outbursts, you could manage the yelling or the cursing when he was upset. You could at least talk him down from that, but you can't help him when he was like this. How could you help somebody who didn't feel nothing? This was the first time he ever acted like this towards you, and it felt horrible.
Sure he yelled at Reiner and even got too snappy with Pieck every now and again- but not you. He made a habit of bragging to everyone that you’d be his wife one day and how beautiful you were whenever you weren’t around. You knew Porco was smitten for you but he never acted on it.
You waited all year for Porco to make the first move but feared he never would. Maybe it was because he wanted to live up to Marcel’s legacy. Maybe he didn’t want to ruin the friendship between you and Pieck. But it looked as though he’d never act on those feelings now.
“Pieck.. what if he never talks to me again?” you spoke as you slipped down onto Pieck’s lap. Her skirt was damp with the tears you’d been crying all day.
“I highly doubt that. You just have to show him that if he doesn’t act fast, he’ll lose you.”
You nodded and sat up. You wiped your last tear away and raised your fist.
“Ok. What’s the plan?”
Pieck slipped her arm around your waist and pulled you closer. Your thighs now touched one another as she closed in the gap between you two. She cupped her free hand over your ear, she whispered softly.
“You want me to do what?! Pieck, we aren’t little girls anymore! We can’t just ‘practice’ like we did when we were little!” you jumped slightly. She pulled you back into her grasp.
“And why not! Am I not your type?” Pieck teased.
“It’s not that” you looked away. “It’s just.. I don’t know.. Embarrassing?”
Pieck couldn’t help but giggle at your shyness. It is true that you two used to practice kissing each other when you were children. You needed to be sure that when the time came, and you married your future spouse, you’d be ready. But you were not children anymore. You couldn’t just kiss her and act like it meant nothing. After all, you had some morals left.
Sure Porco and Pieck fought about who would be the one to marry you- but you never thought anything of it. Why would you? Wasn't it natural to hold hands with your best friends? Your mind ticked and ticked until finally you could form a coherent thought. Was Pieck in love with you? And was Porco as well? How long had they been? Either way, the idea of kissing Pieck didn’t seem so far-fetched anymore.
You could hear Porcos boots clomping in the distance, he had always been so brash with his walking. You often felt bad for the poor wood floors he had walked on.
Just as the door knob turned, Pieck cupped your face and pressed her lips against yours. As soon you were connected, you could feel yourself pooling under your skirt. Pieck had begun rubbing on your thigh, and that definitely didn't help the dampness from collecting. The warmth of her mouth took over your whole body. You couldn’t help but melt into the kiss, your mouth opened slightly as Pieck shoved her tongue into yours.
You knew Porco could walk in at any moment, and the excitement of him catching you made you want to kiss Pieck even more. It felt so dirty to be like this. To have Pieck’s hand up your skirt, and to have Porco possibly see. you wouldn't dream of pulling away. It felt too good to stop now.
The moment the door actually opened, Porco just stood there- eyes wide as he watched Pieck absolutely degrade the mouth he wanted for himself. He had dreamed about parting those lips countless times. He tried to imagine if your mouth felt as good as it did in his wet dreams. His now half hard cock twitched as he watched Pieck pull away from you, a string of saliva still connecting you two.
“Good evening Pock.” she spoke with a smile as if nothing just happened.
He avoided his gaze from the two of you. “Yeah.. whatever” he said, nearly throwing his books on his desk. He took a seat as he covered his face- hoping it would make his blush less noticeable.
Pieck kissed your forehead. “I’ll see you later my sweet (y/n), i’ll be late to class.” she said walking out of your dorm with a wink. You sat breathless at what had just happened. Pieck had unlocked something so sinister in you, and you feared that simple kissing wouldn't be enough for you anymore.
As time went on you wouldnt understand how Pieck could just go along with you like nothing happened. You walked to class together as usual, ate lunch like you usually would- but in the back of your mind the only thing you could think about was Pieck. You craved her touch on your body. You longed for her hands and for her mouth, but you wanted Porco’s gaze upon you just as much.
“Uhh Earth to (y/n)?” Pieck said waving her hand in front of you. You had spaced out at the table you had been studying at. Porco sat at your left and Pieck across from you.
“I’m sorry. I just got lost in thought!” You rubbed the back of your head In embarrassment.
The stuffy room you sat in, had once been dedicated to strategizing wars and battles but the campus had now converted them into study halls for students. You weren’t sure if the weather made the room feel humid or if you had imagined it to distract yourself from forming tension between you three.
Large windows covered the walls of the room, the sunlight coming in gave you a clear view of everything in the room. The tables were old and worn, chairs wobbled ever so slightly, and the books on the shelf were slowly collecting dust as years went by.
“Is it hot in here?” You ask aloud, fanning yourself with your hand.
“I’m sure it is, and these uniforms don’t help out any.” Pieck smiled was she pulled her book away from her face.
Porco slid his hand on your thigh from under the table, he snickered as he turned the page of his book with his other hand.
You gulped quietly.
“Yeah I’m getting tired of all these layers, I wish I could peel off a few, don’t you Pieck?”  Porco said as his hand gilded under your skirt, calloused hands rubbed small circles on your inner thighs. You were being too obvious, you had always been too obvious.
Pieck caught on quickly to the soft movements Porco made under the table and your breath heaving. Her eyes made their way to your warm cheeks with a smirk.
“I understand completely, Porco.” Pieck looked directly in your eyes “It’s almost like I could undress entirely right now.” she began fiddling with the top buttons of her shirt.
You could feel it happening again. The wetness starting to build between your legs was unbearable.
You were practically gasping for air as Porco’s hand slowly started making its way closer and closer to your clothed cunt. Your clit ached with the thought of his touch. All sense of shame was gone at this point. Pieck’s shirt was half way opened at this point. The bits of her lace bra were exposed more and more with every bottom she slowly undid.
You couldn’t tell if your arousal came more from Piecks undressing or from Porcos touch, but at this point it didn't matter, you only knew you needed more. You wished to be laid against Pieck’s chest as Porco bent you over the wooden table, just imagining it made you bucked your hips in desperation for more friction. Porco slowly placed the pad of his middle and ring finger against your clit.
He withdrew his hand entirely as you let out a soft moan.
“It’s almost time for dinner, we gotta get going if we want to beat the crowd.” Porco said, looking at the clock on the wall.
“Right! Best if we leave now.” Pieck said with a devilish smile as she began buttoning up her shirt.
The two left you there panting for air, and longing for hands all over your body. The light of golden hour stained the room with warm hues. Your mind raced with what had just happened, and why you were left hot and bothered. Your legs spread open on the chair you had been sitting it, a small puddle laid under you.
The next day You woke to an empty dorm. Porco had been long gone at training. You knew you would have most of the day to yourself but today your mind raced with thought of Pieck and Porco. At times you shifted your weight to distract yourself from the overwhelming thoughts you craved.
It wasn’t long before a knock at the door sent a shiver up your spine that jolted you to sit up.
“(Y/N)?” Pieck called as she let herself in. “I assume Porcos is training?”
You nodded.
“Ooh so you’re all alone?” Pieck’s tone sounded sultry like she was alluding to something. You felt the heat rising in your face.
She made her way over to your bed. Her foot steps echoed in the room with every step she took. She took a seat on your bed. And leaned over to your ear.
“Have you been thinking of me?”
You avoided looking at her. “Maybe” you answered
“Or have you been thinking of Porco?” She asks nibbling at your ear lobe. Your breath couldn’t help but deepen.
“Maybe” you answer again
Pieck pulled away and repositioned herself. She was now sitting with her back fully against the wall, her legs laid out over the length of the bed.
“Come here (y/n). I want you to show me the way you want to grind on Porcos lap” she lifted her skirt to expose her thighs. She looked so soft from where you sat.
You don’t think twice about straddling her thigh. Your clothed cunt made contact with her soft skin sending a shiver down your spine. Piecks hand found their place on your ass with a squeeze.
“Such a desperate little whore you’ve become. You get one kiss from me and a half assed teasing from Porco, and you’re so eager to do as I say?” She squeezed your ass again only this time more rougher.
You could only moan in response.
Pieck had begun dragging you back and forth on her thigh, pleasure rippled through your body.
“Unbutton your shirt for me”
You hesitated. “What if Porco comes back early?” You whined
“Don’t act like you don’t want him to see you like this. Now unbutton your shirt”
She lifted her leg to make more friction between you and her thigh.
You did as you were told and undid every button to the best of your ability given the circumstances.
“No bra? You really are a whore (y/n)!”
You moaned at her words, your pussy was leaking all over her thigh as you rode her.
Pieck placed your nipple in her mouth and began to suck.
“Fuck-!” You say throwing your head back
She slapped your ass making you moan louder.
Her mouth felt amazing wrapped around the sensitive bud, sending shockwaves through your entire body.
She looked up at you through her eyelashes. She looked as though she was smiling as she sucked on your nipple, she knew what she was doing.
The knot in your stomach had started to tighten.
“Pieck! You’re going to make me cum!”
She pulled away. Without saying anything, she pulled your panties to the side, giving your cunt direct contact with her.
“Cum for me then” she said looking in your eyes.
Your hips moved at a rapid pace as you released on her thigh with a scream.
You were so busy with Pieck that you didn’t even notice Porcos boots clomping down the hallway. By the time you noticed he was already opening the door.
He stepped into the most unexpected but beautiful sight. You say still straddling Piecks thigh, gasping with your tits out. Your cum and sweat covered your body and Piecked thigh, your skirt hiked up over your ass and piecks hands holding on the back of your thighs.
Pieck peered her head to the side “hi Pock!”
You couldn’t help but feel so embarrassed and exposed.
Porcos cock twitched with excitement.
“So this is what you do while I’m off working my ass off?” He says while slicking his hair back more.
You were speechless. When you decided to speak all you could manage to say was “I’m sorry- I couldn’t help myself! I just-“
“Just what? Decided to act like a slut and think I wouldn’t find out?” Porco says.
Your clit jumped with excitement.
Pieck shifted her weight so you lay elbows to the bed with your ass in the air. Pieck guided her hands to your panties and slid them off of you. She spread your ass cheeks and pussy lips for Porcos full view.
“Look Porco, she’s just begging to be filled” Pieck smiled up at you.
You could hear Porco’s zipper being undone behind you.
“She sure is. But I want to hear that from her” he grinned, stroking his cock. The tip was wet with precum already. He stroked as your hole fluttered with excitement.
“Please Porco! Please, I need it!” You said.
“Tell me princess, what do you need?”
Pieck reached her hand underneath to rub your clit.
You gasp nearly being able to talk, “I need you to fuck me Porco! Please fuck me!” You choke out.
“Good girl” he said as he slowly pushed the tip of his hard cock inside. “Mmm.. so fucking wet already” he shoved the enteier length inside you.
You moaned against piecks mouth as she kissed you. Her tongue once again shoving its way into your mouth.
While Porco took his time fucking your tight hole, you slid lower to make contact with Pieck’s lower half. She giggled at the sight of you being so eager to please her. “Here, ill help you.” She said lowering her panties.
You wasted no time lapping up every once of Piecks oozing pussy. She collapsed into the this matress as you attacked her clit.
Piecks moaning caught the attention of Porco. “L-Like what you see Pock? Her mouth feels amazing on my pussy.” Pieck said, smirking.
“I always knew (y/n) would be the perfect little slut.” Porco said speeding up his thrust into your sloppy tight cunt. You moaned against Piecks clit, squeezing down on Porco’s cock in response to his degrading words.
Slowly you added two fingers into Piecks slit.  “Better do a good job (y/n), or I wont let you cum” Porco said slowing his pace. You wasted no time proving at her g-spot. Pieck moaned in delight.
“Good girl.” Pieck said in between moans.
You couldn’t go on much long like this. You needed release and you needed it bad. Porco could tell you where close by the way you began clamping down on his cock.
Pieck was the first to cum as she held a fist full of your hair “(y/n)! You’re gunna make me cum” she exclaimed. She lay breathless on the bed for a moment as Porco kept thrusting into you.
Pieck seized the opportunity to reach under and rub your clit. Pieck’s soft fingertips where enough to send you over the edge. “Porco! I’m coming!” You screamed.
“I’m close (y/n).. where do you want me to finish?” He choked
“Don’t be shy now (y/n) Answer him” Pieck said.
“Inside!” You yelled feeling over stimulated.
“Fuck!” Porco said as he raised inside of you, your pussy drank up every drop of his cum.
You three laid squished against one another, sweat and cum covering your bodies
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thewidowsghost · 3 years ago
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Chase (Natasha x Pregnant!Wife!Reader)
Main Masterlist
One-shot Masterlist (Nattie)
This is for @marvelxreaderfanfictionfest's Secret Santa Exchange.
This is @mostly-marauders-headcanons's gift. They asked for the prompt "just as long as you didn't get hurt" "well, about that..." with Natasha or Shuri. I went with Nat, just because I'm more well versed in writing for Nat.
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(Y/n) fixes her (E/c) gaze on the front door of her and her wife's home as she hears the doorknob move. (Y/n) grins, heaving herself off the couch, her hand resting on her pregnant belly.
"Hiya, hun," (Y/n) greets as Natasha Romanoff walks through the door, (Y/n)'s eyes glowing with affection. "How was work, love?" she asks, leading Natasha to the couch.
"It was alright. Just training today," Natasha replies.
"Just as long as you didn't get hurt," (Y/n) says, her hand moving to rest on her belly again.
"Well, about that . . ." the former assassin replies, trailing off at (Y/n)'s expression.
"Are you alright? Where are you hurt?" (Y/n) asks frantically.
Natasha readies herself for Steve's attack, her muscles tensed.
Steve's eyes narrow, and it is the super-soldier who attacks first.
Natasha holds her own for a while, but with a lunge from Steve and a resounding crack, the two stop, Natasha cradling her right wrist in her left hand.
Natasha isn't really know how she'd managed to get home or the key in the door, as she wasn't left-handed.
(Y/n) heaves herself to her feet again, struggling a little more under the cumbersome weight of her seven-month bump.
Natasha stands up to help, but (Y/n) pushes her back down with a gentle hand.
In the dim light from the TV, (Y/n) finally sees the black cast peeking out from her sweatshirt's - one that (Y/n) liked to steal quite often - right sleeve.
(Y/n) pads over to the freezer in the kitchen, puts some ice in a Ziploc bag, and then wraps the bag of ice in a paper towel.
(Y/n) brings the ice bag to Natasha, who accepts it gratefully, before the pregnant woman pads over to the closet in the corner of the living room, and grabs a blanket, and returns to the couch.
Natasha cuddles up to (Y/n) on the large couch, her broken wrist resting on (Y/n)'s belly. Natasha grins when she gets a gentle kick from their son in response.
"Remember how we met?" Natasha asks, and (Y/n) grins, her eyes glowing.
"Oh yeah, you were a wreck," (Y/n) replies teasingly, her eyes shining.
Natasha's eyes fix on the pretty young woman talking with Tony.
The party rages around Natasha, but it seems to go silent as Natasha gazes at the woman.
Sensing eyes on her, the woman looks over and Natasha feels as though she'd been struck by lightning.
She's breathtaking, Natasha thinks. Her feet disobey her thoughts as Natasha starts towards the woman.
"Hi," the woman says, a gorgeous smile spreading across her face, and Natasha's brain short circuits.
"I - I, uh," Natasha's words stumble to a halt, not knowing what to say to the woman.
"You must be Natasha," the woman guesses. "I'm (Y/n). (Y/h) (L/n)."
"I'm, uh," Natasha gazes, wide-eyed at (Y/n); (Y/n) chuckles as Natasha continues, "lesbian."
"So am I," (Y/n) says, waving Tony away, and her friend just laughs, walking away.
"T-that's cool," Natasha replies, stuttering a little.
(Y/n) laughs softly again, and she focuses on Natasha's features.
Fiery red hair.
Sparkling emerald green eyes.
(Y/n) flushes and averts her gaze from Natasha's piercing eyes.
"D-do you wanna go out with me sometime?" (Y/n) asks, her (E/c) eyes fixed on the ground.
"Um, t-that sounds fun," Natasha replies, and (Y/n)'s eyes meet Natasha's again.
"Hey! If I remember correctly," Natasha says, her uninjured hand brushing soothingly across (Y/n)'s stomach under her shirt, "you were a disaster."
(Y/n) rolls her eyes affectionately and her arms tighten around Natasha slightly, being careful of Natasha's broken wrist.
"Well, at least our first date was memorable," (Y/n) comments with a laugh.
Natasha is the one to roll her eyes this time. "Yeah, who knew getting ice cream and a walk in the park could've gone so wrong?"
"Hey, it wasn't my fault my ankle was broken," (Y/n) retorts, her eyes glowing. "At least you felt partly responsible for some reason."
"Those few weeks were nice," Natasha agrees.
Natasha's gaze lands on the injured woman lying on the couch in (Y/n)'s apartment, her leg elevated, fast asleep.
Natasha had felt responsible for (Y/n)'s injury - she'd been the one to suggest the walk through the park - and had insisted on being (Y/n)'s personal assistant until her ankle had healed, Natasha taking the spare bedroom in (Y/n)'s apartment.
(Y/n)'s eyes blink open, (Y/n) squinting from the harsh light shining through the curtains, and Natasha darts over with a glass of water.
(Y/n) chuckles, taking the glass before moving to sit up, her ankle resting on the coffee table - Natasha had put a pillow down. (Y/n) pats the couch beside her, and Natasha sits down, her eyes glowing.
"You're still here, Romanoff?" (Y/n) asks her, (E/c) orbs twinkling. Natasha nods and (Y/n) smiles. "You're very sweet, you know that?" she asks, and Natasha turns to meet (Y/n)'s gaze. (Y/n)'s smile widens as she registers the redness growing on Natasha's cheeks. (Y/n) reaches over with her free hand, and takes Natasha's hand, entangling their fingers.
Natasha flushes redder but leaves her hand in (Y/n)'s.
"Surprisingly, you were always the boldest of the two of us," Natasha comments, her head resting on (Y/n)'s shoulder.
"I grew up with Tony Stark as a mentor, of course, I'm insane," (Y/n) says, her eyes glimmering with amusement.
"Oh, so you're calling me insane now?" Tony Stark says, entering the couple's house.
"Holy shit, Tony!" Natasha exclaims, sitting up, her uninjured hand resting protectively on (Y/n)'s belly.
"Anthony Stark!" (Y/n) scolds, not moving from her place on the couch. "What are you doing in our house?" she questions.
"What?" Tony exclaims. "We brought gifts!"
This time, (Y/n) does sit up to find all the Avengers and company - Wanda, Vision, and their boys Tommy and Billy, Tony, Pepper, and little Morgan, Steve, Bucky, Clint, Sam, Carol, Peter, Thor, and Bruce - standing in their foyer.
(Y/n) lets out a little grumble as she gets to her feet. A smile spreading across her face, she gives all of her friends hugs before tickling her god-daughter in greeting. Morgan lets out a squeal of delight and Natasha smiles fondly.
"You guys didn't have to bring anything," (Y/n) comments, the Avengers and company taking up seats and on the floor of the living room.
"But then we would've felt bad," Wanda says with a smile. "You two must've spent at least two hundred dollars on the twins before they were born."
"You still didn't -" (Y/n) falters, her (E/c) orbs softening at the tiny baby shirt from Wanda. "Nevermind," (Y/n) continues. "This is adorable." The shirt is black with a red hourglass, and in red writing, "Baby Widow!" with red hearts for the dots in the I and the exclamation mark. "Look, Nattie!" (Y/n) shows the shirt to Natasha, and the redhead beams at Wanda, wrapping her uninjured arm around (Y/n).
The rest of the gifts include another few baby shirts with Iron Nephew written one, a red shirt with the Avengers symbol all over it, and one with SHIELD symbols on it; some cute baby shoes from Sam and Bucky; diapers and wipes from Clint; baby socks from Thor, and an assortment of toys from the rest.
By the time (Y/n) and Natasha open the last gift, (Y/n)'s eyes are watery.
"All of you are so sweet," (Y/n) says, hugging Wanda as they all say goodbye an hour or later.
"Your friends are so nice," (Y/n) says softly as the two women cuddle on the couch once they had taken all the gifts to the nursery.
"They are, aren't they?" Natasha agrees, her emerald gaze warm with affection as they cuddle together.
. . .
(Y/n) snuggles into Natasha a week later, her baby bump fitting into the curve of Natasha's hip.
This makes (Y/n) smiles, the thought filling (Y/n) with warmth. We fit like a puzzle.
(Y/n) gently untangles herself from Natasha and pads into the kitchen to start breakfast - it being one of Natasha's days off.
. . .
Natasha silently enters the kitchen and wraps her arms around (Y/n)'s waits, her hands resting on (Y/n)'s belly.
(Y/n) lets out a squeak of alarm and burns her hand on the stove.
Natasha immediately lets go of (Y/n)'s waist and looks her up own and down for any sign of injuries.
"I'm sorry!" Natasha says apologetically. "Just as long as you didn't get hurt!"
"Yeah, about that . . ." (Y/n) falters, showing Natasha her burnt hand.
Natasha grabs (Y/n)’s hand, presses a soft kiss to the burnt spot before leaving the room, returning quickly before returning to the kitchen with some burn spray and a roll of gauze a moment later.
Natasha sprays the burn with the spray before wrapping it tightly with the gauze. “Better?” the redhead asks, a guilty expression on her face.
“Tasha, hun, it wasn’t your fault,” (Y/n) tells her distraught wife. “I’ll be alright,” she soothes, brushing her unburnt thumb between Natahsa’s eyebrows to chase away Natasha’s frown.
It works, because the frown does slide off Natasha's face to be replaced with a look of tender affection.
“Chase,” (Y/n) says suddenly.
“What?” Natasha asks, her eyes wide with bewilderment.
“Chase,” (Y/n) repeats, taking her hand and placing it on her swollen stomach. “We should call him Chase.”
“Chase Anthony Romanoff,” Natasha says with a smile, testing out the name. “I like that."
Word Count: 1644 words
Natasha Romanoff Taglist:
@mariawilson24
@just-dreaming-marvel
@marsromanoff
@procrastinatingsapphictrash
@theofficialzivadavid
@chickenhavewisdom
@fayharper
@acertainredhead
@capsicle118
@rail-me-romanoff
@ssa-sapphic
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shycoconutt · 3 years ago
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I Found My Light: Chapter 2 (Kakashi X Reader)
Chapter 1
A/n: Well, I decided to continue! I'm very excited about this. Hope you enjoy it!
Summary: Left confused after last night, you talk with Kurenai over breakfast at your favorite diner.
Word Count: 1400
Warnings: fem!reader, SFW (but might not be later lol)
“You… cuddled?” You could feel Kurenai’s eyes burning into the top of your head as you stared down at the coffee cup between your hands, her tone of disbelief unquestionable.
“I mean, yeah, I don’t know how else to describe it,” you started, nervously biting your lip, “one moment we were under the tree with his arms wrapped around me, and the next I was waking up in my own bed this morning with him nowhere to be found.” It was strange really. You don’t remember even moving from the spot you two were in, so how could you have made it all the way home without waking up? Did he carry you all the way there? Teleport? How does he even know where you live?
“Are you sure you’re not imagining it? Sounds to me like you were just having a realistic dream.” You could see Kurenai’s hand reach out and grab your wrist, giving it a small squeeze. “Didn’t you say you were thinking about him the other day? Maybe he just ended up slipping into your dream because you miss him.”
Looking up from your cup, you meet her sympathetic eyes. Kurenai knows more than anyone else about the feelings you had for Kakashi when you were young, so dreaming about him wouldn’t be a far-fetched idea.
“Listen, I get why you would think that way,” you started, “but I’m telling you, as ridiculous as it sounds, that’s what happened.” You lean back into the booth and fold your arms across your chest, escaping Kurenai’s grasp. There’s absolutely no way you will let anyone take that moment away from you, you decided.
“Alright, alright, I believe you!” Kurenai chuckled with her hands coming up in defense. “If you want I can ask Asuma to tell me if Kakashi says anything about it to him. I mean I highly doubt Kakashi would go around telling people you two had a cuddle session, but who knows? He sounds like a whole new man.”
“Order’s up!” Your waiter exclaimed, bringing three plates of food over to your booth. “Let’s see I have the eggs and bacon,” placing the plate in front of Kurenai, “the veggie scramble, and the pancakes you wanted to share.” Placing the rest of the plates down, you both give him a warm smile and a thank you.
“Mmm yum.” You both say in unison as you begin to eat.
“Honestly, (y/n), you better hurry up and eat that scramble because I am ravenous right now and will finish our pancakes before you even get to them.” Kurenai teased with a mouth full of eggs.
“You eat my half of the pancakes and you can expect a kunai in your back during training today.” You threatened, pointing your butter knife at her.
“Wait,” Kurenai paused and then gasped, “that’s right!”
“What?” You ask, a tad concerned at her excitement.
“Kakashi!”
“Kakashi—”
“Will be at training today!” She exclaimed. You could feel the blood begin to drain from your face. “Yeah since he’s not a member of the Anbu anymore he has time to train with us. Gui finally convinced him to, saying something about taking advantage of the springtime of our youth.”
“Ah, typical Gai.” You spoke flatly, trying to remain as casual as possible, but inside you began to panic. How are you going to face Kakashi so soon? You have absolutely no idea how he feels about last night. I mean, he instigated the cuddle session but left you in your bed this morning without any word. Were you supposed to keep that moment between you a secret? Did you already mess up by telling Kurenai? How could you be so—
“(Y/N)!”
You snapped out of your train of thought and met Kurenai’s concerned eyes, a small smile forming at the corners of her mouth.
“(Y/n), I can feel you spiraling from over here.” She gave you a small chuckle. “You’re going to be fine. If anything, he should be the one nervous to face you. How can he explain what happened last night without admitting he has feelings for you?” She reasoned while taking the last bite of her half of the pancakes.
“Admitting he has feelings for me?” You repeated in disbelief after a pause. “You can’t be serious.”
“Well, how else do you explain it?”
“He’s lonely, or lost.” You begin to think out loud. “Ah, or he needed human connection and I was the only one around, simple as that.” Proud of your answer, you take the last couple bites of your food as well.
“I suppose you could be right,” Kurenai began, “but you're definitely wrong.”
“How am I wrong?”
“Well, to be completely honest with you, if anyone in the world ends up with Kakashi, it’s going to be you,” Kurenai stated matter-of-factly.
“What!” You scoffed. “Absolutely not.”
“Hey, hey, not too fast there with the rejection.” Kurenai reasoned. “Besides Rin, you were the only girl he gave any attention to.”
Rin.
My poor Rin.
I miss her.
“You realize that’s because Rin and I were best friends right? I was only given attention by association. He was close to me because he had to be.” Your voice began to trail off at the end as you could start to feel your throat tighten, Rin’s death still stinging like salt in an open wound. “Don’t forget what happened in the months after Rin’s death.”
“I know,” Kurenai said almost to herself.
You continued anyway, “He avoided me. We crossed paths probably a thousand times at Rin’s grave, no words exchanged. Until one day I told him that I knew what happened and that I didn’t fault him for any of it. Then we exchanged a few words here and there only for it to ultimately fizzle out again. Now here we are, years later, and we’re somehow connected again? Seemingly out of nowhere? It makes no sense.” Damn, maybe I was dreaming.
“Maybe it does.”
“How?”
“Well,” Kurenai sat back and began to play with the ends of her hair, “what if he wants to start over? What if he wants to get back to the way things were before?”
“When we were just little genin?”
“Sure.”
“Or,” you began after a moment, “he feels guilty and wants to clear his conscience.” That sounds more realistic.
“Ah, there you go being a grade-A pessimist again.” Kurenai chuckles with her hand covering her face. “How about we quit the speculation and just find out naturally?”
“Fine.” You sighed, putting your chin in your hand while gazing out the diner window.
“It’s tragic really.” Kurenai pondered, also staring out into the distance.
“What?” You looked at her confused.
“We should’ve gotten two orders of pancakes. I’m still hungry.” She complained.
You stared at her for a moment, unamused while she gave you a big, goofy grin.
Finally feeling yourself break into a smile, you laughed and threw your napkin at her face. “I swear the only things on your mind are Asuma and pancakes. You have a problem.”
“Ugh, not true!” She joked, pretending to be offended. “I also think about how nice it would be if my future maid of honor and Asuma’s future best man were in a happy, fulfilled relationship together.” She stated, wiggling her eyebrows.
“Shut up.”
“Careful, (Y/n),” she smiles, getting up from the table and taking your hand in hers, “at this rate your eyes are gonna roll out of your pretty head.”
“Yeah, yeah.” You mused, putting your arm over Kurenai’s shoulders as you stroll out of the diner, leaving money and a tip for your waiter.
“You never know, (Y/n).” Kurenai spoke as you made it outside. “Just promise me you’ll keep an open mind tonight, okay?”
You sighed, feeling stressed again about the training session.
“Yeah, okay,” you finally answered, turning to face her. “And you promise me you won’t tell anyone else about what happened last night, not even Kakashi can know that you know, okay?”
“I promise to not tell a soul.” She spoke sincerely. “I’ll see you tonight, my love.” She gave you a strong hug, a kiss on the cheek, and walked off in the direction of her apartment making sure to look back and give you a teasing wink.
You smiled and yelled after her, “People are gonna start thinking we’re lesbians if you keep that up!”
“Let them think what they want!” She yelled back without turning around.
And just like that, there you were, one of the strongest kunoichis of the Hidden Leaf, feared by many, standing alone on a busy street terrified to attend your training session tonight because of one silver-haired shinobi.
One very handsome, insanely smart, terrifyingly strong, porn-reading, sharingan-wielding, silver-haired shinobi.
That you cuddled.
Last night.
Shit.
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moon-light-jukebox · 4 years ago
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You’re not my type [Hotch x Reader]
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Summary: Reader is the new press liaison to the elite Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. A stray comment from her leads to a lot of questions from her teammates, especially her unit chief, Aaron Hotchner. When they’re thrown together on a case that hits close to home for Reader, will that comment tear them apart? Or will it bring them closer together?
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner / (Female) Reader
Rating: Mature
Category: Angst then smut, with plenty of fluff sprinkled throughout.
Word Count: 8.4k
Content Warning: This gets pretty angst heavy in places. The team is chasing an Unsub that’s a serial r*pist/mu*derer. Mentions of an attempted a*sault to someone Reader cares about. Providing comfort to victims of the unsub. It’s dark in places, but if you can stick with me, I promise I will mend the angst and take you to the land of smut and fluff. Because there is plenty of smut.
A/n: Have you ever had a story that just grabbed hold of you and refused to let go? This story was supposed to be half this length and pure fluff. Reader and Hotch dug their claws into me and made me tell their own story. I’m not mad at it, and if you give it a chance, I hope you love it as much as I do. masterlist
y/n = your name. y/l/n = your last name. italicized text = reader’s thoughts
--“You’re not my type” --
The clock was moving so slowly, I couldn't help but think it was moving backward.
Come on, hurry up. I wanna go home.
I sighed, resigning myself to the fact that it was going to be 4:30 pm for the rest of my life. I still had some files to hand out to the team; I usually do that part of my very glamorous job in the mornings, but since I had nothing but time now, I thought why not.
I had been a “sort of” member of the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit for 5 months. Jennifer- wait, JJ, had the job as media liaison before me; she was the last person to officially hold the position. When she left the unit chief of the BAU, Aaron Hotchner, and the technical analyst, Penelope Garcia, had split the roll. That is until Chief Strauss had decided that she wanted the BAU to run more efficiently. Meaning that Hotch got less paperwork, Garcia got a break from talking about mutilated bodies, and I got shuffled around from the public relations office.
Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed working with the team, I really did, but I couldn't help but feel excluded sometimes. They're all practically a family. I didn't really have any sort of family anymore, just a best friend that has always felt more like a sister.
Pushing those thoughts aside, I made my way towards the bullpen, shoving the doors open to see the team sitting on various desks talking to each other. Loudly.
“Shut UP, man!” Derek Morgan’s voice was loud, but amusement was clear on his face. Actually, everyone seemed sort of amused. Rossi and Hotch were leaning on the railing near their respective offices, watching the events unfold with smiles on their faces.
Hotch smiles? Huh. Weird.
I quickly tried to make my way around them, hoping none of them would notice me.
“Okay, I know how we can settle this. Y/n!” Shit. No such luck. I turned to look at Emily Prentiss, with her long dark hair and angular face. Why is everybody here so fucking pretty?
I cleared my throat, trying to compose my face. “Yes?”
“Answer something for us.” Everyone seemed very eager for me to be a part of this now, which I didn’t think was a good sign.
“I’ll do my best.”
She smiled at me like she was sensing her victory. "If Morgan asked you on a date, what would you say?"
Oh, they couldn’t have picked a worse person to play this game.
I chuckled awkwardly, trying to appear calm. “Um…I’d probably say no.” Morgan took a dramatically loud breath before slapping his hand to his chest. “No offense,” I quickly added.
Morgan wasn’t giving up his dramatics that easily. “Damn, girl! You’re gonna cut me down just like that?”
“I’m sorry,” I said with an awkward laugh. “You’re just not my type.”
Garcia’s eyebrows hit her hairline. “Excuse me? He’s not your type? Tall, dark, and extremely well-muscled isn’t your type?” She scoffed like I was insane; I mean, maybe I was. Jury’s out.  “What about that is unappealing to you?”
I couldn’t think of a believable lie, so I went with the truth. “The tall and extremely well-muscled part.” I shifted from foot to foot anxiously.
Emily blinked. “O-okay. Fair enough,” she laughed, looking at me like she’d never seen me before.
I was preparing to turn and make a very quick escape, but JJ had other plans. "Woah, woah, woah," the blonde hopped off the desk, walking a bit closer to me. "If Morgan isn't your type…who is?"
Fuck me running. “Um…” I trailed off. “I don’t think I really have a type, to be honest.”
"Do you like men," Morgan chimed in. "No judgment, little mama."
Not for the first time, I wished I was a lesbian. “I am sadly mostly heterosexual.” I was convinced no one could be completely heterosexual, it just didn’t seem natural.
Emily chuckled at that. “Okay then,” her hand moved up to adjust her dark bangs, something she did when she was thinking. “What if Hotch asked you out?”
“Okay, okay, don’t drag me into this,” the Unit Chef boomed out, much to Rossi’s amusement.
“…Um.” Why couldn’t I just die? “Sorry, boss, but no.”
Morgan crossed his arms over his chest. “Is Hotch also too tall and well-muscled.”
“Probably,” I answered without much thought. “I can’t comment on the state of his muscles. But he’s very…big. And he intimidates me.” I didn’t let my eyes stray to my boss; I simply couldn’t.
"Ah-ha. There it is!" Morgan slapped his hands together like he had solved some big puzzle. "You don't like men that intimidate you. So, if pretty boy over here asked you out, you'd say yes."
I didn't know a person's ears could blush until that moment when my eyes drifted over to Dr. Spencer Reid. The tips of his ears were bright pink and he was looking anywhere but at me.
I answered honestly again, I figured they’d know if I lied. Fucking profilers. “Yeah, I would say yes. But only if I didn’t know him.” Spencer’s eyes finally shifted over towards me. “You’re easily one of the most brilliant people in the world. You’d be bored to tears on a date with me,” I said, my gaze meeting his wide eyes.
The boy genius’s head tilted ever so slightly to the side, his lips moving like he muttered something under his breath.
Is it 5 yet?
JJ wasn’t totally prepared to let this go, because she asked, “Okay, so a yes to Spence, a no to Hotch and Morgan.” She tapped her chin with her index finger. “What about Will? You’ve met my husband, right?”
I had indeed met her husband with his Princess and The Frog accent. I couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, I met him the other day when he brought your son by. And…I don’t know, maybe him. He doesn’t give off an air of intimidation.” Which was the nicest way I could say ‘your husband doesn’t scare the shit out of me.’
I glanced down at my watch, seeing it was finally 4:55 pm. “Sorry guys, I need to get these files out before I go home.” With an overly bright smile, I darted away as fast as my uncomfortable shoes would let me.
My final stop was Hotch’s office, and I was so relieved that he wasn’t in it for once. I placed the file on his desk, looking at the pictures of a little boy, his son, I assumed, on his desk.
“I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable.”
I'm not sure what I was more embarrassed by, the tiny yelp that escaped my lips or how I smacked my hand over my chest in such a dramatic fashion that I could have given Derek Morgan a run for his money. "Jesus fucking Christ, Hotch! You scared the shit out of me!"
His lips twitched in poorly concealed amusement, either at my reaction or my swearing at him. “Sorry, y/n. I didn’t know I needed to knock before I entered my office. I’ll try to do better next time.”
Oh, this guy has jokes now too.
I couldn’t help but chuckle at his dry humor. “I’m sorry. I startle easily. I didn’t mean to swear at you.”
“Y/n, I’ve been with the bureau for almost 20 years. Trust me, I’ve heard worse.”
I bet he has.
“Well,” I cleared my throat awkwardly. “Alright then. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, sir.”
“Of course,” he stepped out of the doorway so I could exit. “Y/n?” He said it like it was an afterthought. “Do you really find me intimidating?”
My eyes were wide as I looked all the way up at him. Really, what was the point in being that tall? "Oh, absolutely, sir." Then I hurried out the door, not wanting to see his reaction or lack thereof.
--
After stopping by my office, I was waiting for the elevator when I felt someone behind me; turning I saw the pretty boy himself standing awkwardly off to my side. I offered him a small smile before shifting my attention back to the bank of elevators in front of me.
The middle one opened first, Spencer waved me in first before he entered and hit the button for the ground floor.
He was clearly working up his nerves to say something, you didn’t have to be a profiler to see that. “Hey, um, y/n?” I turned my head in his direction, waiting for him to continue. “What you said back there…that you’d go on a date with me if I asked, did you mean that?”
There was that blush again, he really was adorable. “Of course, I meant it, Spencer.” He didn’t look convinced. “I mean, why would I lie? I turned Morgan down right away. And Hotch, who is my boss.”
Spencer let out a small laugh at that, unable to argue against my point. “I guess that’s true.” The elevator doors opened, he waved me out first, again, before exiting himself. “Do you really think that I’d be bored on a date with you?”
"I mean, you have 3 Ph.D.'s and a super high IQ." I waved my free hand around, gesturing to myself like it would help me prove my point. "And look at me. I'm smart, but I'm not that smart. I couldn't put you through a date like that."
He didn’t seem to appreciate my self-deprecating humor. I headed for the doors without giving him a chance to respond. “Have a good night, Dr. Reid!” I offered a small wave before I all but sprinted out the doors towards the parking garage.
Why? Just why?
--
“We have to catch him before this turns into a spree,” Hotch’s voice was grave, his face the same stern mask it always was. “Wheels up in 30.”
Taking that as a dismissal, the team rose from the table, hurrying towards their respective desks to get their go-bags. That was the part of this job that took the longest to get used to. I never traveled much in public relations; now I'm on a plane several times a week. That in itself wouldn't be so bad…if I didn't still get terrible motion sickness. I don’t know why I hadn’t gotten used to it yet, but I had to keep some non-drowsy motion sickness pills in my go-bag at all times. I tried to take them before I boarded the jet; it was probably silly, but I didn’t really want the team to know. They were all superheroes in my eyes; superheroes don’t get motion sickness.
I was the last one to board the jet today. I was usually one of the first onboard, but I got held up on my way here speaking to someone from my old office. When I came through the plane's doors there rest of the team was spread out. Dr. Reid was laying on the couch, book propped open in his lap. Emily and JJ were on one side of the table with Morgan and Rossi on the other. The only seats available were towards the back of the plane; I could have sat by myself…or I could sit in the seat across from Hotch.
I always get anxiety about things other people find silly. I’m a grown woman, I should be more confident; I’m a fucking FBI agent for god’s sake. Yet here I was, nervously trying to decide where to sit. It would be weird to not sit near him, I reasoned. Offering Hotch a tight smile before I stored my go-bag, I sat down across the aisle from him.
I fastened my seatbelt over my lap, taking deep breaths through my nose. I had taken my medicine, but take off always got me a little bit, no matter what. I never took a window seat either, sometimes I’d look out and see how fast the world was passing by underneath us and…I shuddered just thinking about it.
"Hey," the voice beside me called, his voice was so quiet I don't think any of the others could hear it. I opened my eyes and turned to face him. His dark eyes looked oddly soft like he was concerned about me. "Are you alright?"
I offered him a tight smile. “Yeah, I’m okay, Hotch.”
"Did you take your medicine?" At my puzzled expression, he clarified. "For motion sickness."
What in the- “How did you know I get motion sickness?”
The corners of his mouth quirked up. “I’m a profiler, y/n, and I’ve been one for a long time.”
A little chuckle left my lips at that, right as the plane started moving forward, gaining speed for takeoff. I closed my eyes, telling myself that it was the impending take off that was causing my stomach to flutter, not the fact that my boss, who I thought was always indifferent to me, noticed me more than I thought he did.
--
Cases with kids were the hardest, there was no question about it. For me, the second hardest cases were women who were assaulted. It filled my gut with such a heavy, boiling rage whenever I thought about it. These women were just living their lives, unaware of the danger that was hunting them. Some fucking monster decided that being a man in our society didn’t offer him enough power; he had to hurt women, try to take their power so that he could feel more powerful.
I had heard stories about Elle Greenaway, the agent that resigned under suspicion that she shot a rapist in cold blood. I never commented on it, but I can’t say as I blame her. That attitude is probably why I don’t comment on it, I thought dryly.
The unsub the team was hunting in Northern Texas was a serial rapist and murderer. He had claimed 3 victims in the past 2 weeks; the locals were concerned that his pattern and level of violence were escalating too rapidly. The BAU agreed.
They started piecing this monster together through the clues he left behind. A white male, mid 30's, has a high-power job, won't be able to have stable relationships with women. They were tracking his comfort zone, interviewing families, and canvassing for information.
My job was to warn the women of this small town that there was a monster lurking in the shadows.
The team was sitting around in a small room in the center of the police station that was crammed with evidence boards. Emily was leaned back in her chair, JJ's head resting on her shoulder. Dr. Reid was facing the map of the county like if he stared at it long enough and answer would just pop into his head. Morgan's head was in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. Rossi and Hotch were talking in the corner, glancing around the room every so often.
Eventually, our leader cleared his throat. "Okay, lets head back to the hotel." At the groans of a few team members, he pressed on. "I know, I want to find this guy too. But we all need rest. We'll come back tomorrow with fresh eyes."
With that, we all headed to the black SUVs parked outside, ready to head to whatever hotel the bureau put us in for the night. The drive was quick, we all stood in the lobby while Hotch spoke to whoever was at the front desk. The conversation seemed to take longer than I needed to.
He walked back over, looking mildly uncomfortable. “There aren’t enough open rooms,” he said at last. “We’ll have to double up.” He held out his hand which contained 3 key cards.
…Wait a minute. “There are 7 of us.”
Hotch nodded. “Therein lies the problem. One room will have to have 3 people.”
I turned towards Emily and JJ, assuming I’d just room with them when Rossi interrupted. “No offense, guys. But…I’m old,” he laughed, his whole face lighting up. “I need my beauty sleep. I’m not sharing a room. I’ll go get my own.”
"They don't have any rooms, Dave."
Rossi looked at Hotch with a patronizing little smile that would have been extremely offensive coming from anyone else. “They don’t have any rooms for you," he clarified. "Not only am I old, but I'm also rich."
Sure enough, he walked over to the desk and spoke to the clerk for less than a minute before he was handed a keycard.
“Well I’ll be damned,” Morgan said with a laugh.
Rossi turned to us then, his eyes filled with poorly hidden mirth. “Sogni d’oro!” And with that, he walked towards the elevators.
“Huh?” JJ asked, her voice scratchy.
“Sweet dreams,” Reid and Prentiss supplied at the same time.
“Right.” Morgan shook his head. “Come on pretty Ricky.”
It hit me right then. Oh hell.
Hotch seemed to realize it at the same time Prentiss did. “Y/n, you room with JJ, I’ll stay with Hotch.”
Somehow this was more embarrassing than the conversation in the bullpen. “No,” I said quickly. “No, you guys go. I’ll room with Hotch.” I put a smile on my face, hoping I was convincing.
“Y/l/n, you just said that I intimidated you.”
Again, why couldn’t the earth just swallow me up? My laugh was forced, but hopefully, they hadn't heard my real laugh enough to know the difference. "Intimidated to go on a date with, Hotch. This isn't like that." Right? “C’mon! I’m sleepy.”
With that display of false bravado, I grabbed a key and made my way towards the elevators. I felt his presence behind me as we walked down the hall towards our rooms. I tried to control my heartbeat, calm my breathing the closer we got to the room. This is ridiculous, y/n. I had shared a room with Morgan before, no problem. I was comfortable around the team, I really was. Not for the first time, I wish I had the sense to not open my big mouth.
I reached for the door right when Hotch cleared his throat; I busied myself with getting into the room, ignoring him. Was it cowardly? Yes. Did I care? Not at that moment.
Until I walked into the room…and saw that there was one bed. Oh, you have to be fucking kidding me. “What is this, a rom-com?” I apparently didn’t mumble that part as quietly as I thought I had given the soft laugh I heard come from the man behind me.
“Y/n,” he said, his hand coming to my shoulder. “I didn’t realize there would only be one bed. Come on, let’s go down to Prentiss and JJ’s room.”
I let out a groan. “Hoooootch,” I whined. “All of this is just making me more embarrassed. This wouldn’t even be an issue if I hadn’t been a dumbass and opened my big mouth. This isn’t a big deal but going to talk to them will make it a big deal.”
He didn't look convinced, but I was so tired. I reached out and grabbed his arm before I could think better of it. "Aaron," my voice was soft, barely a whisper, but it was like he'd been struck by lightning. His eyes snapped up to mine, his lips parted slightly. It was then I realized I'd never called him by his first name before. "I trust you with my life. You'd intimidate me if I didn't know you. But I do know you, Aaron." My gaze never wavered from his.
“Okay.”
--
I laid in bed for 30 minutes pretending to be asleep. I listened to his breathing even out and I kept my back to him the entire time. I had tried to keep my bedtime routine brief, taking a quick shower and changing into my sleep shorts and a baggy shirt I’d had since college. My hair was pulled back so I wouldn’t get it wet in the shower.
The weirdest thing was seeing Hotch in normal clothes. In all the months I’d worked with him, I had never seen him not in a suit. He had a pair of flannel pajama pants on, a gray t-shirt stretched over his broad chest. He has really nice arms, I thought.
When I was sure he was asleep, I rolled over onto my back. My eyes had long since adjusted to the dark, allowing me to just stare at the ceiling.
“You’re thinking very loudly.”
I let out a squeak while my whole body jerked. "Goddamnit, Hotch!” That asshole had the nerve to chuckle. “Stop scaring me!”
“I’m sorry,” he said, not sounding even slightly sorry.
“I thought you were asleep.”
He rolled onto his back; I felt his eyes on my face. “I know,” was all he said.
I sighed, wondering how I had gotten myself into such a situation. “You really don’t intimidate me.” He made a noise which caused me to amend my statement. “Alright, alright. You do intimidate me. You’re just so…stern. And you’re so tall. What is the purpose of being that tall? It’s excessive. And I feel like your eyes can see through every single thing about me. I didn’t know you had muscles until today, but I always assumed you did. They’re very nice muscles-“ I cut myself off. Fuck.
That was the first time I ever heard Aaron Hotchner laugh. Not chuckle, not snicker quietly. He actually laughed. His laugh was a higher pitch than his speaking voice; it boomed out of him and transformed the whole mood in the room. That laugh warmed a part of my heart that I wasn’t comfortable thinking about. A huge grin broke out on my face. I made him laugh, and I was oddly proud of it.
“Thanks, y/n,” his voice was still filled with amusement. “I hadn’t known you were curious about the state of my muscles. You should have just said something.”
My head snapped to the side so my eyes could meet his. He was teasing me. SSA Aaron Hotchner, BAU unit Chief, was teasing me. I lifted my hand to his arm, giving him a shove. His bicep feels like granite. “Shut up.”
That asshat just kept laughing at me.
“Anyway, you do intimidate me,” my voice was soft again. “But I’m not afraid of you.”
Aaron regarded me thoughtfully. “So, it’s not that you’re not attracted to intimidating men,” he surmised. “You’re afraid of men.”
“Not all men,” I countered. “I’m afraid of men like you. Not you, but ones like you. You overwhelm me.”
He was quiet for a few moments. “Y/n…did someone hurt you?”
It was a natural question, a normal thought process; I should have expected the question. I felt tears prick the corner of my eyes. “Yes,” I whispered, feeling safe in the darkness of the room, safe but still so alone. “But not in the way you think.” I filled my lungs with a deep breath, hoping I would find some courage. It wasn’t until I felt his hand brush over mine, his calloused fingers brushing over the back of my hand, that I finally found it. I flipped my palm up and laced my fingers through his. He gave me a reassuring squeeze.
“I’ve had the same best friend all my life,” I began. “She’s marvelous. We’ve always been together; her mom said we were like peanut butter and jelly. I love her like she’s a part of me, Aaron.” I knew he would understand; I just knew it. “We were in college when it happened. We went to this frat party because I had a crush on some guy.” My voice was filled with venom and bitterness. “He was overwhelming, so tall, and so handsome. There was a darkness in him, but I was too young to see it. She did; my best friend could see he was a monster. I didn’t listen.” My breath was shuddering through me. “I didn’t listen to her, Hotch.”
He didn't say anything. He just shifted in the bed and pulled me to him, nestling me into his side, wrapping his arms around me while I laid my head on his chest. "I was so mad at her. So mad." The shame from all those years ago was still so fresh. "She took my drink and threw it on the floor. I told her she was embarrassing me… So, I went outside to get some air."
His arm tightened around me, his free hand coming up to stroke my hair. “You don’t have to-“
“I do,” I said, refusing to let another sob escape. “I came back inside and couldn’t find either of them. I thought maybe she was going to hook up with some guy…but she isn’t like that. She’s never been like that.” My stomach rolled at the thought; sometimes when I closed my eyes I could still smell the beer in the air, I could still feel the wood of the banister under my fingers. “I found them in a room upstairs. He had her pinned on the bed, he was-he-he was trying to take her pants off.” I didn’t deserve the comfort Aaron offered me in that moment, but I clung to him, grateful for it. “I screamed, and I guess I scared him. She kneed him and was able to push him off. We ran all the way home.”
“You saved her, y/n,” Aaron’s voice was so sure, so reassuring, no matter how hard I shook my head ‘no’. “You did. You could have just left; you were mad at her, but you still went back for her.”
I wiped my eyes. “You make it sound so simple.”
His lips pressed softly against my forehead, his hand stroking up and down my back. “That’s because it is.”
--
Things felt different in the harsh light of the police station than they had last night. Aaron was already in the shower when I woke up this morning. I fell asleep in his arms after I told him one of my darkest secrets. He didn't judge me; he didn't tell me I was a terrible person. He just held me; he offered me comfort and made me feel deserving of that comfort.
I dressed quickly and headed downstairs before he got out of the bathroom. My feelings were already swirling around in my head. It wasn’t that I wanted to be away from him, not at all. I just didn’t think it would help my feelings settle down to be confronted by a wet, hot, well-muscled Aaron Hotchner. It was an act of self-preservation if you think about it, I reasoned.
The next time I saw him was when the team was piling back into the SUVs to head to the police station. He offered me a small smile, and I think his eyes may have twinkled a little bit when I smiled back at him a little too brightly.
Profilers.
The team was as refreshed as they could be. Dr. Reid was looking at access and service roads on the map, trying to determine the route the unsub took to dispose of his victims. JJ and Morgan were out canvassing the women's neighborhoods. Rossi was with Prentiss in the sheriff's office speaking with the family of the most recent victim, Bethany Mooreland.
This was the hardest part of my job. I wasn’t a profiler. I felt like I had nothing to offer. I was fielding calls from the media, trying to organize a targeted strategy. The team thought that if the unsub saw that he was being mocked in the press, or his masculinity was called into question in any way, that he would act out more viciously. While acting out might cause him to make a mistake, we couldn’t risk another woman’s life.
The conference room doors burst open, Hotch storming inside with Morgan and JJ hot on his heels. “There’s been another attack.”
I felt my stomach drop. “Fuck.”
“Y/n, she’s alive.”
“…What?!”
The dark-haired man that held me in his arms last night only nodded. “She’s at the hospital. I want you to come with JJ and me to interview her.”
…Me?
--
Summer Webb was 25 years old; she was a customer service rep at a call center just outside of town. She lived alone, had a cat named Pringles, and was close with her family.
I held her hand while JJ and Hotch put her through a cognitive interview. I rubbed her back while she recounted how the unsub only left her because he thought she was dead. Tears ran down my cheeks when she described what he did to her.
Steel and ice ran through my veins when I looked her in the eyes and promised that we would get this monster.
I’d kill him myself if I had to.
Once her mother arrived at the hospital, we left, promising to call with any updates; uniformed officers were stationed outside her hospital door. Hotch spoke to Garcia, then to Rossi, then to Reid, then Garcia again on our ride back. JJ read over Summer’s statement, occasionally jotting down notes.
I was quiet.
Almost. Almost there. I walked into the station without really seeing it. I navigated my way down the hall on instinct. I pushed the door to the bathroom open, looked around to confirm I was alone…then I broke. I placed my hands on the countertop that housed 3 separate sinks, my tears ran down my cheeks and splashed on the fake granite.
I don’t know how long I had been there when I thought I heard a knock on the door. That didn’t make any sense, the door didn’t have a lock; there were multiple stalls in this bathroom.
But I had heard a knock. The door swung open and someone walked inside. I heard him whisper my name, the tone of his voice was so soft, so fucking sad, that it only made me cry harder. Aaron put his hands on my shoulders, turning me around to face him, then letting me collapse against him.
He murmured words I couldn’t understand against the top of my head, he wrapped his arms tight around me; I was sure I would have fallen completely apart if he wasn’t holding me together.
“You must think I’m so weak,” I muttered when my tears had finally slowed.
He stiffened, though his hands never stopped moving, stroking my hair and my back. "Just the opposite, y/n." I pulled back to meet his eyes; I saw nothing but honesty swirling in those dark brown pools. His eyes appeared so dark from far away, almost black. From this close, I could see the subtle shift between various shades of brown. They weren't cold like I had always suspected; Aaron Hotchner's eyes were warm and understanding. They were the eyes of a man who had seen far too much evil for one lifetime but refused to yield his fight for even a second.
I could fall in love with those eyes.
“You’re the furthest thing from weak I’ve ever seen,” he continued. “Your heart is so big that it aches for a woman you don’t even know. It’s alright to cry right now, it’s alright to let yourself fall down for a moment. But I know you, y/n,” he was repeating my words from last night back to me. “You’re going to pull yourself back together. And then you’re going to help us find that son of a bitch before he hurts anyone else.”
Maybe I could fall in love with more than just his eyes.
--
There are certain moments in my life that I will look back on and remember with perfect clarity. That night when I almost lost my best friend, the day I graduated from the academy, the first night I spent in Aaron Hotchner’s arms were just a few.
I would also remember when the call came in from Garcia; how Morgan and Reid ran into the room. How Hotch’s eyes shot to mine when we found out the monster’s name. I didn’t have to ask; he nodded at me, those warm brown eyes were hidden now, hardened by pure ice-cold rage.
I strapped on my vest and road in the back seat in the SUV Morgan drove.
Summer’s monster was named Jeremy Carpenter. Her monster was a white man with brown hair, brown eyes, with a scar on the back of his right hand.
None of us were sure how he knew we were coming, but he had already barricaded himself inside his house. We heard a scream when the first gunshot was fired. I wanted more than anything to bring Summer's monster in alive; I wanted to offer her the chance to face him if she wanted to.
Aaron didn’t ask if I wanted to go to the hospital once everything was over; he really did know me. He took me to see her, he kept his hand on my back while I told Summer and her mother what happened. What I will remember most of all is how her mother hugged me when I told her the monster was gone, that he would never harm anyone ever again. I hit him in his leg; he was in pain before our unit chief put a bullet between his eyes.
We had come to the hospital alone; the rest of the team went back to the station to finish up paperwork. I held his hand on the way back to the hotel; I held his hand while we walked to our room.
I offered him a small smile before I made my way into the bathroom, determined to wash the events of the day off of my skin.
He was gone when I came back out.
--
It goes without saying that I had doubted most men in my life, especially since that night all those years ago.
I never once doubted Aaron Hotchner.
I was sitting on the bed when he came back, staring at the TV without seeing.
“Hey,” he said softly. “I thought you’d still be in the shower.” He set two bags down on the only table in our room. “You haven’t eaten since breakfast. I thought-“
“Hotch,” he looked at me then, his eyes locking onto mine. “Thank you.” I didn’t need to specify for what. He knows.
He pulled our food out while I made my way to the table. I couldn’t hold in my chuckle. “You know I get motion sickness; you know my favorite foods…just how closely do you pay attention to me, Agent Hotchner?”
He didn’t look the least bit embarrassed. “More closely than I should.”
We sat together and ate in comfortable silence. The next time he spoke was to answer a phone call from Jack. I tried to hide my smile while I listened to his conversation. Unlike the rest of his team, I hadn’t gotten to see Aaron Hotchner, the father. What is it about men being good father’s that is so attractive, I mused. Is it biological? I made a note to ask Dr. Reid.
After we ate, he went to shower while I stretched out on our bed, scrolling through my phone. When Hotch emerged from the bathroom he was in another pair of flannel pants paired with a black t-shirt. I pursed my lips in both amusement and disappointment.
“What?” His eyebrow was raised quizzically. Why are his eyebrows hot?
I giggled. "Nothing." At his incredulous look, I amended, "it's nothing interesting."
He sat down beside me on the right side of the bed, his back resting against the headboard. “I’ll be the judge of that.”
“Hooootch,” I whined, covering my face with my hands. “I’ve already embarrassed myself in front of you enough for one lifetime.”
His hand came up to grab mine, pulling them down from my face. Any attempts I made to wiggle away from him were in vain. Apparently, those muscles aren’t all show and no go. My body had shifted down the bed during my halfhearted struggles, meaning Aaron was now propped up on his elbow, his body angled over mine. “Embarrassed? I don’t remember any embarrassing times,” he pretended to give this some thought. “Unless you’re referring to last night when you mentioned how much you think about my muscles?”
I tried to jerk my arms out of his hands, but he held fast, laughing openly while my face turned red. “Oh, I’m sorry. Were you not talking about that?” He pushed my arms back onto the bed, rising to his knees, positioning his body over me, his face hovering over mine. “Then it must have been when you lied to the whole team a few days ago.”
I squeaked in outrage. “I didn’t lie about anything!”
He was so beautiful when that scowl left his face. “Yes, you did!” he insisted. “You said you wouldn’t say ‘yes’ if I asked you out. And, based on the evidence, I have to say I don’t believe that to be true.”
“Oh, I forgot I was dealing with a former prosecutor.” He nodded gravely, earning another giggle from me. “Okay, counselor. What’s the evidence?”
“The most glaring piece of evidence is you won’t tell me what you were thinking when you were looking at me when I came out of the shower.”
I let out a whine, accepting my fate. He’s literally on top of you, dumbass. Something tells me he’s gonna be receptive. “Okay, okay. I may have…hurried out of the room this morning while you were in the shower.”
Hotch quirked an eyebrow. “I know. Go on.”
“Asshole,” I muttered, delighted when he laughed. Hearing his laugh was one thing, but seeing it too? My insides were basically liquid. “I may have ran as an act of self-preservation. I was…worried that you’d come out of the bathroom in a towel. And you’d be wet, and hot, and I would…make an idiot out of myself, much like I am now.”
Aaron was delighted by how bright red my face turned; he made no attempt to hide his amusement. “So, just now, you were disappointed that I came out fully clothed?”
“Hotch,” I moaned out in embarrassment. He wasn’t making this easy on me.
My eyes were shut tight, my head turned away from him like this would somehow prevent him from seeing me. His left hand lifted from my wrist, his fingers coming to rest on my chin, turning my face towards him. "If you're going to moan my name while we're in bed, y/n, I'd prefer if you called me Aaron." My eyes snapped open. His eyes were still warm, teasing, but there was a certain heat in them I hadn’t seen before that made my lower belly flutter. He leaned closer to my face. “It would be hard for me to focus at work if you every time you said ‘Hotch’ I thought about you like this.”
I waited for a few moments for him to act before I realized Aaron couldn’t cross the line first. He wouldn’t be mean if I rejected him; that wasn’t the type of man he was. But the choice was mine; it had always been mine.
I lifted my free hand up to cup the side of his face, urging him closer to me. The first brush of my lips over his was so soft I wasn't sure it was even happening. It was so hesitant but so pure that it made me ache. Aaron pulled back to look at me; he was breathing hard like he had been running instead of just kissing me.
“Y/n…”
“Don’t profile me, Aaron.” I lifted my head, my teeth nipping at his bottom lip. “I want this. I want you.”
His posture shifted, he released my left arm to brace himself above me with his arms caging me in; he moved his legs, wedging one of his thighs in between mine. “I’m not profiling you. I can see how much you want this.” No need to sound so arrogant. “But I need to be sure…I’ve wanted to touch you for so long.”
My hands moved up to touch him, one hand feeling the soft hair at the nape of his neck that was still a little damp from the shower; my other hand gripped his bicep. “Then touch me, Aaron. Please.”
I wasn’t ready for the full force of Aaron Hotchner. He was the most intense man I had ever known, and that intensity didn’t stop in the bedroom. Aaron didn’t kiss me, he tried to consume me. His mouth moved over mine with a carnal hunger that made me throb, shifting against his firm thigh that was rested against me. I was desperate for any friction. I felt his hand move down from where it was cupping my face to rest on my collarbone, his thumb tracing over the base of my throat.
His lips moved off of mine to blaze a path down my jaw, his teeth nipping at the skin there before he moved back to my lips. “Don’t worry, sweetheart.” He pushed his thigh against the seam of my body, causing a whimper to escape from my throat. I didn’t even mind the smirk that covered his mouth. “We’ll get there. Just let me make you feel good.”
I opened my mouth to him; his tongue swirled around mine while the hand that wasn’t bracing him up moved to my hip. His fingers ran over the skin of my stomach that was exposed from my shirt riding up. I placed my hand over his, guiding it further up my stomach; how was I supposed to take my mouth away from his to tell him what I wanted?
Of course, Aaron knew what I needed; I was beginning to learn that he always did. His fingers trailed up my body until he got to the underside of my breast; the callouses that roughened his fingertips were heaven on my overly sensitive skin. My mouth broke away from his in a guttural cry when those fingers finally found my nipple. Aaron moved his kisses down to the side of my throat. I felt his breath against my throat when he murmured, “you’re so sexy, y/n.”
Raising up on his knees, he started tugging my shirt up; I lifted my upper body so I could slide my shirt off quickly. I heard Aaron groan when my chest was revealed to him, but I was on a mission of my own. Once I had his shirt pulled up over his abdomen, Aaron reached behind his back and pulled his shirt off at the neck.
My nails raked down the skin that covered his chest, reveling in the groan that left his mouth. He leaned over me again, his lips wasting no time before they covered my nipple. My hands tried to grip the short hair at the back of his head.
“Aaron,” I gasped out. “I need…more. Please.”
He started kissing his way to my other breast. “What do you need, sweetheart? Do you want to grind against my thigh? Do you need to use me to get off?” His tongue flicked over my nipple. “Or do you want me to use my hand? Is that what you need, Angel?” My heart stuttered at the sweet nickname just as much as it did at his filthy words. “Do you need me to put my fingers in your pussy?”
My thighs were shifting restlessly. “Yes, yes, please Aaron.”
When his mouth closed around my nipple, I felt his left-hand slide down into my shorts, then into my panties. He shifted his wrist, allowing his hand to cup me. He groaned against my skin. "I haven't even put a finger inside of you and I can already feel how wet you are. Your little cunt is just dripping for me.”
I didn’t have a chance to respond before he parted my lips, his finger ghosting over my clit, causing my back to arch off the bed. He smirked but didn’t tease me further; he slid his fingers down to my opening before pushing his middle and ring finger inside of me, using the heel of his hand to grind against my clit. I moved my hand to my mouth, having to bite on my skin to silence the scream that his actions brought forward.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He leaned back, never pausing the movement of his fingers. “Are you trying to be quiet? Do you not want everyone in this hotel to know how wet you are? How desperate you are to have my fingers inside of you?” All I could do was nod. “It’s all right, baby. Once we get home, I’ll hear you scream for me. But for now; be a good girl and try to be quiet. I’m the only one that gets to hear what you sound like when you cum for me.”
I was grinding against him, working my hips desperately, matching his rhythm. I was so close. “Aaron, NO!” was all I could say when he removed his fingers from inside me. The man just smiled at me, looking me straight in my eyes when he put his fingers in his mouth, licking me off of them.
He grabbed my shorts and panties at my hips, roughly jerking them off my body. “When we get home,” he said as he slowly started to push his own pajama pants down. “The first thing I’m going to do is lay on my back and make you put this pussy on my mouth. You taste so good, angel.” His cock sprang free; he was so much thicker than I expected. I was transfixed, just watching his fist pump up and down his hard length. “Will you do that for me? Will you ride my face?”
“Yes,” I was so desperate I would agree to anything in that moment. “I’ll do anything. Just please fuck me, Aaron.”
He used the fingers of his free hand to part my pussy lips again, rubbing over my clit. “I don’t have a condom, sweetheart, but-“
“I’m on the pill,” I reach out to grip his shoulders, pulling him on top of me. “I trust you. I trust you with everything. I need you inside me, Aaron.”
He shoved my thighs open, running the head of his cock up and down my pussy, coating himself in my arousal. He looked up at me again, giving me another moment to back out, before he slowly started to push inside of me. He stroked in and out of me, going a little bit deeper each time until he bottomed out. Aaron’s head fell to the dip of my shoulder. “Fuck,” he whispered. “You’re so fucking tight.” He started moving then. Slowly pulling out before he shoved himself back inside me. My hands were on his back, my nails digging into his skin. I wrapped my legs around his back, trying to draw him deeper inside me.
“You feel so good,” I whisper, biting his shoulder to keep my moans quiet.
Aaron raised up on straight arms, changing the tempo of his thrusts. “You’re not doing a very good job of being quiet, baby.” I whimpered; I couldn’t help it. “I think we might have to do something about that. He quickly pulled out of me; I didn’t have time to complain before he flipped me over, gripping my hips and lifting me up on to my knees. His hand palmed my ass cheek while he leaned over me, his breath hot on my ear. “This is how you need to be fucked.”
Raising up, he lined himself up and slammed inside of me. I bit my lip so hard that I could taste blood; Aaron tangled his hands in the back of my hair, pulling my head up while he set a brutal pace. "Quiet, baby. You don't want everyone to know what a dirty girl you are. Screaming for my cock, so wet that you're dripping down your thighs." His pace didn't slow down; I felt my orgasm rising up inside me. "Touch your clit for me, sweet girl. I want to feel you cum on my cock."
My fingers began circling my clit in a frenzy, causing my pussy to flutter around him. “That’s a good girl. Such a good girl for me. Can you be quiet when you cum? Or do I need to shove your face down in the mattress while I fuck you?” He gave a dark chuckle at my needy whine. “That’s what I thought.”
In the way that he knew everything, Aaron knew when my orgasm was peaking. He pushed my head down, never too hard, but hard enough. I bit the comforter in an attempt to silence my scream. I felt myself clamp down around his thick cock. My orgasm broke inside me so quickly. I screamed his name while I came; the comforter silenced some of it, but he heard it. That scream along with my pussy cumming on him was ultimately his undoing. He gave a few final thrusts before he went all the way, holding himself inside me as deep as he could, filling me with his cum.
I collapsed after that. I had never felt anything like this before. Aaron was there, knowing what I needed even when I didn’t. He held me for a moment until I caught my breath. Then he went into the bathroom, coming back with a damp washcloth to clean me up. He was so tender with my sensitive flesh; he didn’t say anything, he just focused on his task.
Once he was satisfied, he laid down beside me, drawing me into his side just as he’d done the night before. I couldn’t help the dry chuckle that left my exhausted body. Aaron made a ‘hmm’ noise. “I was just thinking about last night,” I said quietly, my voice raw from the screaming I had just done. “You held me like this last night. It was just 24 hours ago, but the whole world feels different.”
He made a noise in the back of his throat that I took as an agreement. After a beat, he said, "well, maybe you won't run out on me in the morning this time."
I looked into his eyes, raising up to press a kiss against his stubbly jaw. “I’ll never run again.”
And I meant it. I could face any monster, as long as Aaron Hotchner was beside me.
2K notes · View notes
teacupfulofstarshine · 3 years ago
Text
you're the pink in my cheeks (i'm a little bit soft)
summary: "and i know we'll never grow old together / cause you'll never grow old to me / you're the pink in my cheeks / and i love that it means i'm a little bit soft / you're the pink in my cheeks / and i love that it means i'm a little bit soft"
- "monster," marceline (adventure time)
(OR: 5.4k of soft domestic lesbian!analogical, featuring lesbian!moceit, trans male!remus, trans female!roman, and Gay Shenanigans)
a/n: huge thank you to dandie for beta'ing this fic!
i just wanted to write wlw is that so wrong of me? no. no it is not.
CW: alcohol mentions, a few sex jokes, swearing, one implied instance of potential sexual activity (although it doesn't go any farther than making out; if you want to skip that part, skip the section that starts with "Did you get the right kind of popcorn?")
word count: ~5.4k
read it on ao3!!
“I think I may be going insane,” Logan says, squinting at her laptop screen. Virginia, hanging upside-down in the armchair, looks up from her phone and blinks.
“And why is that?”
“Because I am starting to agree with Rosie’s anti-Florida agenda.”
“I didn’t realize that there was an anti-Florida agenda.”
“Rosie has one, and I have always thought it facetious. However, if this laboratory does not start sending me my requested samples and information in a timely manner, I will be forced to concede that Rosie may have . . . a point.”
“You, agreeing with a lit major? I never thought I’d see the day,” Virginia teases. Logan initially resists the urge to stick her tongue out or flip Virginia off, because that would be childish, but then she remembers that Virginia does not care about her childishness, so she sticks her tongue out. Virginia snorts with laughter, and Logan feels warm, fizzy pop-rocks bursting in her chest.
Her phone buzzes next to her, and she picks it up. There’s a new message blinking for her attention on the screen.
[from: snesbian (snake lesbian)]
a, b, or c
[to: snesbian (snake lesbian)]
. . . What?
[from: snesbian (snake lesbian)]
*rolls eyes*
[from: snesbian (snake lesbian)]
i need you to make a selection, logan. a, b, or c.
[to: snesbian (snake lesbian)]
I am confused. What am I selecting between?
[from: snesbian (snake lesbian)]
wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy
[to: snesbian (snake lesbian)]
Yes. I would like to know. That is why I asked you.
[to: snesbian (snake lesbian)]
Also, I am not a meteorologist. Or a boy.
[from: snesbian (snake lesbian)]
it’s a meme, i’m sure v will be happy to show you the og. but first: make a choice
[to: snesbian (snake lesbian)]
Option B, I suppose?
[from: snesbian (snake lesbian)]
vodka it is!
[to: snesbian (snake lesbian)]
Wait, what?
Her phone buzzes again, another text thread lighting up, and Logan abandons the now-fruitless conversation with Jan to see that her wife has texted.
[from: soda poppy]
y is jan fillin a thermos with vodka and sayin u gave her the go ahead? >:(
[to: soda poppy]
I am unsure. She texted me asking me to make a choice between “a, b, and c” with no context given. When I eventually selected “b,” she excitedly mentioned vodka and logged off.
[from: soda poppy]
her an remy r going 2 a pta meeting tonight an i guess they’re goin drunk
[to: soda poppy]
Is that a . . . normal occurrence?
[from: soda poppy]
sadly yeah
[to: soda poppy]
Wait, is she even allowed to attend PTA meetings? You two don’t have any children?
[from: soda poppy]
she’s on the school board so she has the right 2 attend. idk if she’s supposed to or not but its never stopped her b4
“Everythin’ good over there?” Virginia asks.
“I believe I may have just enabled Jan to attend a PTA meeting drunk.” Virginia snorts, swiping at her phone.
“Good for her, honestly. The only reason she and Poppy live in that neighborhood is so that Jan can flaunt her wife in front of all the capital-s Straight people, because she’s a petty fuckin’ bitch.”
“That is a strange word choice for your best friend.”
“I hate Jan, she’s a bitch,” Virginia says, smirking fondly at her phone. Logan knows her girlfriend well enough to know that this statement is disingenuous, so she stands up, stretching her arms above her head, and leans down to drop a kiss onto Virginia’s forehead.
*~*~*~*~*
Logan blinks awake slowly, feeling for the position of her limbs. She’s on her left side, left arm tucked up under her pillow to cradle her head, wrapped in the thick comforter of their bed. Her right arm is slung across Virginia’s body, and her girlfriend is pressed up against her, head tucked right under Logan’s chin and face nestled into her neck and chest. Virginia breathes, slow and deep and even, and Logan hums, huffing out a soft exhale.
She carefully wiggles out of bed, tucking the comforter around Virginia’s curled-up form. Virginia grumbles when the cool morning air slips against her skin, because she is a foolish woman who insists upon sleeping in short shorts and a spaghetti-strap tank top no matter the current weather patterns. Logan wraps her up, making sure that she’s shifted into the middle of the warm divot of body heat, and Virginia settles in, asleep again in a heartbeat.
Logan turns to the corner chair, where her early-morning outfit is already laid out: athletic leggings, a sports bra, a moisture-wicking quarter zip jacket. She changes quietly, lights off, and tugs on a pair of ankle socks before slinking into the bathroom. Once the door is shut, she flicks on the soft lights over the vanity and carefully undoes her sleep braid. Normally, Virginia does Logan’s hair, because Logan is not good at dealing with her wavy, tangled, curly mess, but she won’t wake up her girlfriend for that. She can, at bare minimum, pull her hair up into a high ponytail for running purposes.
They live in a small town only a short walk (and even shorter bike ride) from the beach, full of little two-story brightly-colored beach cottages. Logan steps off her front porch, pulls out her phone, and quickly shoots a text.
[to: ginny <3]
I am headed to the beach for my weekly run. I will likely return before you wake up, but in case I do not: I will be back before 9 AM.
[to: ginny <3]
I love you <3
Logan kicks up the kickstand on her bike, runs her fingers over the glossy dark-blue paint flecked with white and silver and gold to mimic stars, and swings one leg over the bike seat. She carefully pedals out into the narrow road and heads for the beach. The cool early-morning air whips past her face, and she chances a glance up at the dark-blue-turning-light-blue-grey sky and smiles.
She’s always been an early-morning morning person, anyway.
*~*~*~*~*
Logan’s sneakers dig into the hard-packed wet sand along the water’s edge as she runs. Seagulls scatter in front of her, and the podcast Virginia recommended hums in her ear. The sun creeps up, up, up onto the horizon, coloring the blue-grey into streaks of brilliant pink and orange and gold, light reflecting off the water in resplendent diamond sparkles.
Logan runs half a mile down the beach, turns around, runs back to where she started and then runs half a mile in the other direction before turning around and running back to her starting point. By the time she’s bent over, hands on her knees, huffing out breath while her legs burn pleasantly, the sun has emerged fully from the ocean, and Logan is beginning to wish she had worn a visor.
She takes a moment to appreciate the sensory experiences of being on a nearly-abandoned beach: the scent of salt water, the sound of waves crashing against sand, the errant cries of gulls squabbling over fish. Their little beach is not nearly pristine enough for a tourist attraction, and too far north along the Atlantic coast to be warm year-round. Still, Logan loves it, and cannot imagine living anywhere else.
She hunts along the water’s edge as she walks, briefly, a cool-down before the bike ride home. She finds a few things worth photographing, a few crabs to shoo back into the ocean, and a few things worth gathering: an intact clam shell whose smooth curve runs unbroken from the heel of her palm to the tip of her index finger when she lays it flat in her hand, a light gray rock worn smooth by the waves that turns dark-gray-almost-black when wet, a small spiral shell that she thinks may have broken off of the top of a snail shell. Logan wraps all three things carefully in a small handkerchief from the little bag she keeps in her bike basket, pulling out her phone to note the time (8:37 AM) and the message notification flashing at her.
[from: ginny<3]
dunno why you insist on being a morning person. stop by the dunkin on your way back and get us breakfast?
[to: ginny<3]
You had Dunkin for breakfast three times this week. You should consume something healthy.
[from: ginny <3]
>:( >:( >:( >:(
[from: ginny <3]
counterpoint: you bringing me dunkin is better than me not eating breakfast at all. which is the alternative because i do not want to get up and prepare anything
[to: ginny <3]
Your womanly wiles will not work on me in regards to Dunkin breakfast.
[from: ginny <3]
bitch (affectionate)
[to: ginny <3]
Would you like me to make you breakfast on my return, beloved?
[from: ginny <3]
. . .
[from: ginny <3]
will you make me an omelette? with all the cheesy goo an shit?
[to: ginny <3]
I will make you an omelette with some degree of “cheese goo.”
Logan slides her phone into her pocket, huffing out a laugh at her girlfriend’s behavior, and hops onto her bike again.
*~*~*~*~*
“Your omelettes are always so much better than mine,” Virginia says, moaning as she sinks her teeth into an enormous bite of egg and cheese. Logan, calmly dicing bell peppers to mix into her own omelette, smiles.
“All food tastes better when it is prepared by someone who is not you.”
“You’ve clearly never had anything the twins have cooked.” Virginia takes another bite, pops a multivitamin into her mouth, and chases it down with a gulp of milk. “Besides, it tastes better because you made it.”
“I am not the most accomplished chef in the world, certainly, but I am glad you enjoy my cooking.”
Virginia laughs softly. “Lo, I like your food because it’s prepared by someone who loves me. I can taste the love in everything you make for me.”
Logan turns back to her peppers to hide her blush. “Love is not a measurable ingredient when cooking.” Virginia laughs again, louder this time; when Logan sets the knife down, she hears Virginia’s chair scrape out behind her as she stands, feels her arms wrap around her waist, feels the cool skin of her face press into her neck.
“Love you.”
*~*~*~*~*
“Stressful day at work?” Logan asks, hearing the door slam.
Virginia kicks off her flats, sending them flying into the wall with a clatter. Logan sets down her crochet project and moves toward the entrance of their house, where Virginia is shrugging off her rainjacket to reveal a mint-green Peter Pan-collared blouse and dark gray dress pants. “The stressiest.”
Logan takes the jacket and shakes it out on the tiled entranceway before hanging it on the hook. “I am sorry, beloved.”
“Lots of assessments, lots of parents who don’t understand why I’m assessing their kid, lots of parents insisting that there’s nothing wrong with their kid, or that there’s no way their kid could possibly have the deficits that I’m seeing. Like, I wouldn’t make this shit up, you know? Literally, let me help your child. You came to me, remember? I’m not in the habit of imposing myself onto people.”
“That sounds very stressful,” Logan says. She tries to picture a life where she spends all her time interacting with people she doesn’t know on a regular basis instead of her little corner of the university biochemistry lab where she only has to interact with three or four known people and her immediate supervisor, mostly by email. It sends icy fingers skittering down her spine.
“It is, I hate it. I mean, Kitty’s my supervisor until I get my C’s, so if I have problems I can consult with her, but like . . . why are people the way that they are.”
Logan stretches up and presses a gentle kiss to Virginia’s cheek. “I love you, Ginny.”
Virginia exhales and folds herself around Logan, draping her body over her girlfriend and going limp and boneless. “I don’t wanna be a real person for the rest of the night.”
“That can be arranged.”
“But it’s my night to make dinner.”
“I do not mind switching and having you make dinner tomorrow,” Logan says. “This is an acceptable deviation from the routine.” Virginia pushes her face into Logan’s neck, and Logan nuzzles the side of her head, and she sighs like the entire world has lifted off her chest.
*~*~*~*~*
(This is how it starts:
Logan, taking a class on British literature in her sophomore year because she needs to meet her core requirements. Logan, meeting Rosie, disagreeing with her on almost every single point she raises in class, hating when they’re paired up for their midterm project but earning the best grade in the class overall. Logan, seeing a text from Rosie about how her housemate needs people to participate in a research study for extra credit. Logan, making the long trek down to the health sciences building and seeing Virginia for the first time, thinking that she’s pretty and not knowing that she’ll be thinking that for the rest of her life.)
*~*~*~*~*
“Hello, gorgeous,” Virginia hums.
“Are you talking to me or to the mint plant?” Logan says, aggressively stabbing her pointer finger against the Delete key. It clacks loudly, and she mutters an insult under her breath. “I am going to set myself on fire. I swear to god, I am.”
“Obviously the mint plant,” Virginia says, turning and dropping a kiss on Logan’s head. “You okay, honey?” Logan grumbles more and shoves the laptop away from her with a disgruntled noise. Virginia moves the laptop away and leans over to kiss her forehead.
“I am trying to politely word an email whose essence boils down to, ‘If you do not send me my fucking samples in a timely manner, I am going to be forced to commit an Atrocity the likes of which this earth has never seen’,” Logan says.
Virginia laughs so hard that she sits down on the tiled kitchen floor, wiping tears from her eyes. “You are so funny,” she wheezes. Logan feels her irritation fade a little under the brightness of her girlfriend’s joy. “Let me see the email, I’m good at professional bullshitting.”
*~*~*~*~*
“Braid my hair!” Rosie says, throwing herself down onto the couch. Logan lifts her laptop up just in time to keep Rosie’s head from slamming into the keyboard.
“Ginny is your best bet for braids, Rosie. I have limited experience.”
“It doesn’t have to be fancy, It just has to be off my neck.”
Logan saves her document and sets her laptop on the coffee table, poking at Rosie’s ribs until she slides onto the floor and settles cross-legged between Logan’s thighs. “A comb and some hair-ties would be appreciated.”
“REMUS!” Rosie shouts.
“WHAT?”
“BRING ME A BRUSH AND SOME HAIR BANDS!”
“GET YOUR OWN!”
“I’m going to kill that man,” Rosie mutters, rolling to her feet. There are suspicious muffled thumping noises from the other room for a few minutes before Rosie emerges, victorious, hair somehow even messier than it was in the first place.
“You are the single loudest person I have ever met,” Logan sighs, taking the comb and the hair ties and beginning to drag it through Rosie’s curls. Rosie winces, just a little, at the pull of the comb, and Logan tries to be more gentle.
“Thank you!”
“I did not say that was a compliment.
“Hey!”
*~*~*~*~*
Logan tugs her sweatshirt sleeves down from where she’d rolled them up previously, shivering a little. Part of her wishes that she had worn leggings instead of capris as she drags the folding chair a little closer to the bonfire, toes dragging through the still-sun-warmed sand. The speaker set up on the food table blasts some sort of current pop music, and Rosie and Poppy dance around each other, chanting the lyrics at each other. They are both very loud and very off-key and, Logan suspects, fairly drunk as well. Remus is in the ocean (definitely buzzed, potentially naked) and Jan is standing at the edge of the ocean, watching to make sure he stays alive.
“Hey,” someone says, low and rumbling in her ear. Logan does not flinch (just barely) and turns to see Virginia, holding a plastic cup with a poorly-drawn sketch of the state of Virginia on it. Her hair is starting to come loose from its messy bun, and her sweater sleeves keep sliding down over her wrists and nearly dunking into her drink, and her breath smells sweet and alcoholic. When she lifts her hand to Logan’s cheek, her fingers are cool, and Logan shivers.
“How’s my girl?” Virginia asks.
“Cold,” Logan answers honestly. Virginia laughs, tipping her head back and exposing the long strip of her neck. Logan wants to lick it.
“You’re adorable,” Virginia says, leaning in and pressing her mouth against Logan’s ear. Her breath is warm and slightly damp. “So pretty, my Logan, and so smart. I bet you know exactly what chemical compounds are making the flames turn that color, hmmm?”
Logan can feel her face burning hotter than the bonfire, but Virginia just sits languidly in her lap, feet propped up on the armrest. Her toes are painted pale purple, and the glitter sparkles in the firelight.
“How many drinks have you had?” Logan asks.
“Enough to feel all tingly,” Virginia says, swirling whatever’s in her cup. “How many have you had?”
“None,” Logan answers honestly. Virginia leans her head against Logan’s shoulder, and her wispy frizz tickled Logan’s nose. She sneezes, and Virginia giggles in the high-pitched, superficial way she only giggles when she gets really, really drunk.
“You sound so cute when you sneeze.”
“I do not.”
“Of course you do,” and now Virginia is looking at her, eyes glowing warm in the firelight. “You sound cute when you do anything. You’re cute when you exist. You’re cute no matter what. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone.”
Logan hates the taste of alcohol, but she leans in and kisses Virginia anyway.
*~*~*~*~*
“Lo.”
“Hmmm?”
“Pick a color.”
“What?”
“I’m painting my toes again. Pick a color for me.”
Logan flops over onto her stomach, staring at the neat row of creme polishes sitting on their ottoman. Virginia’s bare feet are propped up in front of them, spread apart awkwardly with neon lemon gel toe spreaders, and she studies the nail polish like she’s trying to determine which vial isn’t poisoned.
“I like that one,” she says finally, pointing to a pale pink polish the color of the flowers Virginia brought her on their first date. Virginia hums, picking the bottle up and tilting it critically in the light.
“Not the one I would have picked, but I said you could pick, so I guess we’re doing it.”
Virginia tosses some bottles of toppers (or “tacos” as she calls them, slang from one of the YouTubers she likes) onto the bed while she paints her toes, and Logan sifts through them to settle on a blue-yellow iridescent one.
“I do not know how you can get behind wearing something called a Unicorn Skin,” Logan says. Virginia just shrugs and plucks the bottle from her hand. Their fingers overlap - Logan’s warm from where they’ve been tucked under her body, Virginia’s cool from where they’ve been gripping the glass bottle. Impulsively, Logan lifts Virginia’s fingers and kisses the tips.
“You’re going to smear the polish,” Virginia mutters, even though she painted her fingers earlier today and they’ve been dry for a while. She doesn’t bother to yank her fingers away, either, so Logan kisses them again.
*~*~*~*~*
“Logan!”
Logan is fully aware that the only thing keeping Poppy from crashing into her like a floral-sundress-covered cannonball is the casserole dish in her hands. She counts her blessings and steps aside to let Poppy in.
“Where’s Jan?”
“Getting something from the car! It’s my turn to drive us home, so she brought something to drink.”
Jan primly kicks the passenger side door shut with her heeled ankle boots, a bottle of wine grasped by the neck in each hand.
“I hope you do not intend to drink both of those in their entirety tonight,” Logan says. Jan rolls her eyes and offers one of the bottles to her.
“This one is a gift for you and Ginia. The other one is for me.”
“None for Poppy?”
“Poppy is the designated driver, so she will not be drinking. And I know she already told you that.” Logan rolls her eyes, and Jan flips her off. “Are you going to invite me in or not?”
“What are you, a vampire?” Virginia shouts from the kitchen.
“Only one of us dresses like the undead, darling, and it isn’t me,” Jan calls back, stepping into the house. “Are the twins here yet?”
“They cannot attend. Remus has orchestra practice and Rosie is teaching a dance class. You already knew both of these facts, because you are in the group text.”
“I am not.”
“You responded to a message in the group thread fifteen minutes ago.”
“That was the NSA agent assigned to monitor me.”
“You are a liar.”
“What else is new?”
*~*~*~*~*
groupchat name: be gay do crime
soda poppy: hey every1! DONUT 4get to make ur bakesale goodies and drop them off at r house by 7 am on fri!
lo tide: Please use normal words. I am begging you.
snesbian (snake lesbian): then beg.
lo tide: I do not recall asking for your opinion.
snesbian (snake lesbian): and yet i give it to you anyway. am i not generous
virgin: if you don’t stop making fun of my gf i swear to god
virgin: also remus if you don’t stop changing my name i’m gonna end you
virgin has changed their name to gin(ny) and tonic!
gin(ny) and tonic: much better anyway
violets are blue rosie is me: i believe you meant anygay
gin(ny) and tonic: i said what i fucking said
ace attorney irl: you changed your name :(
gin(ny) and tonic: every day the Lord regrets giving all of us mod powers in this chat
snesbian (snake lesbian): i have no such regrets
lo tide: Can we circle back to the bake sale, please?
soda poppy: Whatchu wanna kno???
lo tide: I assume it is school related?
soda poppy: yep!
soda poppy: fundraising 4 this year’s art club field trip! since im the faculty advisor im in charge of approving and setting up 4 the fundraisers
lo tide: I see. And why, exactly, is it our responsibility to make things for this fundraiser? Should it not be the students’ responsibility?
soda poppy: they r makin stuff 4 it but also i gotta make sure some of the stuff will b edible yknow
lo tide: I see.
gin(ny) and tonic: listen i know that jan is like. a professional pastry chef an shit. but i’m not making anything fancy like a cheesecake or smthn
gin(ny) and tonic: i’m making like. fuckin brownies
snesbian (snake lesbian): smh don’t you care about the Children at all?
gin(ny) and tonic: no. they’re not my kids
ace attorney irl: i will make cookies
soda poppy: u cannot make them inappropriate shapes
ace attorney irl: :(
violets are blue rosie is me: do not worry, i will make sure they are an appropriate shape
violets are blue rosie is me: i’ll make cupcakes!
lo tide: I believe I have a recipe for lemon squares that I can make. Will lemon squares be sufficient?
soda poppy: yeah! just keep ur stuff free of common allergens like tree nuts
gin(ny) and tonic: so my plan to just yeet you a bag of reese’s peanut butter cups and call it a contribution is out then
*~*~*~*~*
Virginia throws a box of brownie mix into the cart and dusts her hands off. “There. Done.”
Logan raises an eyebrow.
“Don’t give me that look, we have the rest of the ingredients at home. We have tap water, we have oil, we have eggs, we don’t need anything else. What do we need for your lemon thingies?”
“Lemons, presumably.”
“You’re a comedian,” Logan deadpans. Virginia flips her off, and then leans in to kiss her cheek. “I do need lemons, though. Lemons, more eggs . . . I have a list in my phone.”
“What phone?” Virginia says, dangling Logan’s galaxy-patterned case above her head. “I think you’re too short for this, Lo.”
“Give me my phone,” Logan says, rolling her eyes. Virginia wiggles it above her head, laughing.
“Maybe you should give me something in return.”
“Like what?”
Virginia grins. “Like a kiss, perhaps?”
Logan rolls her eyes again, but she leans in and kisses Virginia gently, swiping her phone back when Virginia lowers her hand to cup her face. “Thank you for paying the toll, sweetheart.”
“You are ridiculous,” Logan says. It doesn’t stop her from gently kissing Virginia’s cheek before pushing the cart down the aisle again.
*~*~*~*~*
groupchat name: be gay do crime
lo tide: What time did you want us to drop off the baked goods, Poppy?
soda poppy: if ur gonna b in the area, u can just drop them off at my house!
ace attorney irl: i made some of the shapes inappropriate but those ones r 4 u and jan
soda poppy: what did u make 4 the bake sale?
ace attorney irl: . . .
soda poppy: what did u make 4 the children, remus.
ace attorney irl: nothin’ too crazy! jan had some normal summer shapes - suns, flip flops, etc. etc. used those
soda poppy: :D thx remus!
ace attorney irl: made some fishies too! but the octopi are just for u an jan.
ace attorney irl: i . . . may have painted dicks on them
soda poppy: well at least u warned me right
*~*~*~*~*
“Did you get the right kind of popcorn?” Logan asks.
“If by ‘the right kind’ you mean ‘your favorite kind,’ then yes, I did,” Virginia says, coming into the living room with a large yellow bowl full of fluffy popcorn. “What are we watching tonight? It’s your turn to pick, isn’t it?”
“Gay fish,” Logan says.
Virginia sets the popcorn on the coffee table and blinks at her. “That is . . . quite the description of Finding Nemo, sweetheart.”
“Not Finding Nemo, Ginny. Luca. It’s new, and it’s not explicitly gay, but there is a very obvious queer reading. I thought we could watch it together.”
“Anything with you sounds wonderful.”
“Sap,” Logan mutters. She leans in to kiss Virginia’s cheek, but Virginia turns at the last moment and presses their lips together.
“Are you sure you want to watch a movie?” she says. “We could just make out instead, if you want.” She pushes gently on Logan’s stomach, guiding her to lay on her back on the couch. Virginia lays on top of her, gently sliding a hand to rest warm and heavy on her stomach. She leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to Logan’s neck, and then her jaw, and then rubbing their noses together.
“Tonight is movie night,” Logan says. Virginia presses their mouths together, and Logan hums, gently pressing up into the kiss. “We should be watching a movie.”
“Are you sure?” Virginia says. “I think we should pursue this avenue a little further.”
Logan squirms a little. “I - I would not - um - no, thank you.”
Virginia’s eyes, which were hazing over with something, clear as she blinks. “Okay, sweetheart.” She leans back, sits up, pulls Logan into a sitting position. “Are you alright?”
“I’m okay,” she says. “I just - I am not in the mood for that tonight. If that is okay.”
“Of course it’s okay,” Virginia says. She holds out a hand, and Logan takes it. Virginia kisses the back of it before settling herself on the couch. “I am so proud of you for expressing a boundary and telling me you were uncomfortable. I know that expressing boundaries is something that we’re both working on, and you did a wonderful job. Tell me what you want, Lo. Please?”
“I would like a kiss,” Logan says. “Just one. And then I would like to cuddle, and - and I would like us to watch Luca together. Is that acceptable?”
Virgil nods. “Of course, love. Come here, hmmm?” Logan settles next to her, and Virginia gently cups her cheek and presses their mouths together. “I love you, Logan. So much. Of course we can watch Luca now.”
Virginia lays an arm along the top of the couch, allowing Logan to cuddle up against her and rest her head on her chest. “I love you,” Logan says softly.
“I love you too, sweetpea.”
*~*~*~*~*
Logan rolls over, yawning, and feels a small weight displace itself from her thighs. She blinks awake slowly, lifting her head and pushing her curtain of curls aside to reveal a black cat mewing at her grumpily before settling into a sushi roll beside her.
“Did I wake you? I am sorry, Galileo . . .”
Galileo settles against her, purring softly, while the ash-grey cat at the foot of the bed pads slowly up to curl on Virginia’s back. “That’s your favorite spot, isn’t it, Andromeda?” The cat emits a soft “mrrrp” before settling back down to sleep. Logan yawns, smiles, and gently strokes her hears. “What should we do, girls? Shall we stay awake and be productive members of society?”
Neither cat responds, and Logan looks at Virginia. She’s haloed in the morning light, eyes tightly shut, mouth hanging open, drool leaking into a puddle on the pillow. She snores a little - one, two, three snorts before settling back into a deep sleep.
“No,” Logan decides, “we shall not.” She lays back down, gently nudging Galileo a few inches over so that she can snuggle up to Virginia. Galileo stretches out, pressing a paw directly into Logan’s cheek. Logan shoves her, and she resettles onto Logan’s feet with an indignant noise.
“You can sleep by my face when you do not kick my face,” Logan mutters, curling into her love.
*~*~*~*~*
groupchat name: be gay do crime
soda poppy: r u all comin 2 the bake sale 2morrow?!
lo tide: I was under the impression that we were only providing the baked goods. Is it not for the students at the school?
soda poppy: we got waaaayyyy more stuff than we thought so we r havin a 2nd bakesale 2morrow 4 parents an stuff!
soda poppy: we r gonna need sum help with setup though . . .
lo tide: Poppy, please do not even -
soda poppy: 🥺🥺🥺 p l e a s e
lo tide: Poppy.
snesbian (snake lesbian): logan
lo tide: If I agree to stop and pick up coffee for everyone, will that motivate you all to turn out?
violets are blue rosie is me: i’m always a slut for free coffee
lo tide: I’m sorry, where did I say that this would be free?
violets are blue rosie is me: D:<
ace attorney irl: eh i’m down for it. where you swingin’ by?
soda poppy: there’s a panera p close 2 where the bake sale is!!! it’s gonna b at the morning girl’s basketball game
lo tide: Does anyone have any issues with Panera coffee?
violets are blue rosie is me: nah. large iced coffee, add three ounces of half and half, two pumps of sugar syrup, two pumps of vanilla, and caramel drizzle.
ace attorney irl: complicated bitch much?
violets are blue rosie is me: why must the cain instinct betray me like this
ace attorney irl: the cain instinct started when we stole each other’s genders in the womb
violets are blue rosie is me: this is true this is true but you’re still a bitch
ace attorney irl: large hazelnut coffee, two sugars, please
snesbian (snake lesbian): large dark roast, black
soda poppy: medium decaf coffee, two ounces of almond milk, and two pumps of sugar syrup!
gin(ny) and tonic: large caramel latte
lo tide: You . . . are going to ride in the car with me to pick up the coffee, we can order our own coffees. I do not need your order, love.
lo tide: But I appreciate the information <3 <3
*~*~*~*~*
“We come bearing gifts,” Virginia announces loudly. “And by gifts, I mean we bought a baker’s dozen of cinnamon crunch bagels for everybody.”
“Well, there are twelve cinnamon crunch bagels and one plain bagel, bagged separately, for me,” Logan corrects, expertly balancing two coffee trays with a bagel container. “Also, we made more brownies.”
Poppy looks up from where she’s instructing two high-schoolers on how to hang a sign properly and grins, waving brightly. Jan is leaning on the table, hand on her head, sipping at a water bottle.
“Vodka or whiskey?” Logan asks dryly, handing over Jan’s black coffee. Jan blinks at her, flips her off, and drains a long swig from her cup.
“Water. Partied a little too hard with Remy last night, and now I’m hungover as shit.”
“We suspected as much, which is why we brought you an extra coffee.”
“Lifesaver,” Jan says, knocking back another long drag of coffee before taking a sip of her water bottle. (Logan suspects the bottle is actually Poppy’s, due to the sun-shiney stickers plastered all over it.) “You and Poppy both. But if you tell anyone that, I’ll gut you like a fish."
“No, you won’t,” Logan says, turning to hand Rosie and Remus their respective drinks. “You never do.”
Jan flips her off, but Virginia comes up behind her and leans her forehead against her shoulder. Logan turns, kissing her forehead, and smiles.
Life is good today, she thinks. Life is good.
(screen names!
virgin -> gin(ny) and tonic; ginny <3 = virginia (virgil)
lo tide = logan
snesbian (snake lesbian) = jan (janus)
soda poppy = poppy (patton)
ace attorney irl = remus
violets are blue rosie is me = rosie (roman) (thanks to @rosesisupposes for letting me borrow your screen name for this!)
118 notes · View notes
heyyyharry · 4 years ago
Text
She Likes Girls
(a blurb from the Flatmate series)
…in which Harry's favourite cousin, who’s a lesbian, comes visit and spends a lot of time with Y/N.
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Word count: 3.2k
Someone requested ANOTHER jealous flatmate Harry blurb so I decided to write it a bit different this time ;)
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“Hi, um, does Harry live here?”
“Yes,” Y/N said, holding the door open just wide enough to show her face. The purple-haired girl she’d never met before broke into a smile and politely extended her hand. “I’m here to see him. You must be his flatmate. I’m Millie.”
“I’m Y/N.” Y/N smiled back, giving the girl’s hand a hesitant shake. She’d never seen Harry with this girl before, but the girl looked nice enough to not be a serial killer. “He’s at the library,” she told Millie. “He’ll probably be back soon. Would you like to wait inside?”
“Sure. That’d be great,” Millie said, smiling again.
Y/N pulled the door open and stepped aside for the girl to enter. Personally, Y/N would hate it when someone she’d just met would eye her up and down, but that was exactly what she was doing to Millie. She wasn’t trying to be rude. Millie was really pretty. She just didn’t look like the girls Harry would hook up with. Y/N couldn’t imagine Harry with a goth girl.
Millie placed her bag by the couch as she sat there and looked around the living room. Y/N thought of making tea for her but then she remembered that they were out of tea. She couldn't just leave Millie here and retreat to her room. So she thought she should start a conversation. She wasn’t good at conversations, but she could try.
“So how did you meet Harry?” she asked and sat down beside Millie.
“I’ve known him my whole life,” Millie said.
Y/N hadn’t expected that. “Oh...so your families are close?”
“Very.”
“Oh.”
Harry had never mentioned having a beautiful childhood best friend before. Y/N knew he didn’t have to tell her everything about himself, but why did she feel so betrayed?
Before she could come up with something else to talk about that wasn’t Harry-related, the door swung open and Harry froze in the doorway, his eyes lit up as he saw Millie.
“Mil!”
“Hazza!”
Millie launched herself out of the couch and threw her arms around Harry’s neck. Harry caught her and lifted her feet off her ground. Meanwhile, Y/N was just standing there and rubbing her hands against her jeans.
Well, this is awkward.
“I told you I’d pick you up at the airport!” Harry said, putting the girl down and cupping her face.
Millie brushed his hands off as she snorted. “Well, I got here early to surprise you.”
Watching Harry laugh and ruffle Millie’s hair, Y/N had never felt more like a third-wheel. She would go if her anxiety hadn’t glued her feet to the floor.
“How long are you staying?” Harry asked.
“A week,” Millie said.
“Yessss!” Harry punched the air, then finally noticed Y/N standing awkwardly behind Millie. He smiled and wrapped an arm around Millie’s neck, gesturing to Y/N. “Oh, I see that you’ve met Y/N.”
“Yes, she was very nice to me,” Millie said. “And you never told me that your flatmate was so pretty.”
Y/N let out a nervous laugh. “Thank y—”
“Stop,” Harry cut her off, his smile vanished as he shot Millie a glare.
“What?” Millie looked just as confused, but something about her wide-eyed expression told Y/N that she was faking it.
Harry turned back to Y/N. “Was this one flirting with you?”
“What?”
He sighed and rolled his eyes. “Millie always does that. She cannot help herself.”
“I learned from the best,” Millie said, smirking.
It took Y/N a second to understand. She pointed to Millie, her eyes round and her mouth wide open. “So Millie is...”
“My cousin,” Harry said.
“And a lesbian,” Mille added as she pat Harry on the shoulder. “Even if I were into boys and not his cousin, I still wouldn’t want him. I’ve got standards.”
“Hey!” cried Harry yet Millie ignored him.
“He’s jealous because I get more girls,” she said.
“Lies!” Harry hissed and told Y/N, “Don’t believe anything she tells you about me.”
“I’m so sorry,” Y/N uttered. “I thought—”
“It’s okay,” Millie cut her off, giving her a gentle smile. “I know my cousin. He’s got quite a reputation around here. I could hear a girl crying and cursing his name the second I landed in London.”
Y/N giggled as Harry rolled his eyes. “Just don’t flirt with my flatmate while you’re here.”
“Oh, she wasn’t...flirting with me,” Y/N said.
Millie tilted her head, her green eyes narrowed as her black lips stretched to its favoured side. “You didn’t know I was flirting? Man, I must try harder next time.”
Y/N stiffened. She could feel the colour heightened in her cheeks.
“Stop teasing her. Damn it,” Harry told Millie. To Y/N, he said, “She was joking.”
“I’m sorry! Gosh, you’re blushing!” Millie cupped Y/N’s face as she burst out laughing. “You’re so cute. How can someone like you live with him?”
“I ask myself that question every day,” Y/N mumbled, feeling quite proud when Millie laughed even harder. She liked making people laugh, especially people who seemed much cooler than she was; it made her feel validated somehow.
“So where do I sleep?” Millie asked Harry, putting an arm around Y/N’s shoulders. Harry immediately plucked that arm off and pushed Millie aside to stand between them. “On the couch,” he said. “Or on the floor in my room.”
“You're such a dick,” Millie scoffed.
“You could sleep with me. We could share my bed,” Y/N said.
Both Millie and Harry whipped their heads to her but only Millie’s face brightened with a smile. “Oh, thank you, I–”
“You know what?” Harry blocked Millie with his outstretched arm before she could pull Y/N into a hug. “Take my bed. I’ll sleep on the floor.”
Millie raised an eyebrow at him, a corner of her mouth quirked and she tiptoed to stroke the top of his head. “Now that’s my good baby cousin.” Then she picked up her bag, flipped her black hair over her shoulder and sauntered to Harry’s room.
Harry turned to Y/N and gave a tight smile. “You don’t mind her staying, right?”
“Of course not,” Y/N giggled. “I like her.”
Harry arched both eyebrows, looking genuinely concerned. “But not too much.”
“No, no, not like that!” Y/N shook her head fast. “She’s just really cool. And...um...cool people don’t usually like me. So…”
Harry pressed his lips into a small smile. For a second, Y/N thought he looked rather relieved. “If she annoys you with all the flirting and her bad jokes,” he said, “just tell her to stop. Don’t be nice about it.”
Y/N squinted her eyes. “So she’s the female version of you.”
“Yes. Only better,” Harry chuckled. “That’s why she’s my favourite cousin.”
.
.
.
“Remember when I said Millie was my favourite cousin?”
“Yeah, why?” Niall shouted over the music. Harry leaned against the wall. With a constipated look on his face, he watched Millie dance with Y/N from across the room.
“She’s not anymore,” he mumbled spitefully.
Niall stopped dancing and raised an eyebrow in confusion. “Who’s your favourite cousin then?”
“Jared.”
“Didn’t you say Jared helped Mason drown you?”
Harry threw his arms in the air. “So I don’t have a favourite cousin! Jesus, Niall, that’s not the point. The point is–”
Niall stared as he waited for Harry to finish the sentence. “The point is what?”
Harry’s mouth was open, but he saw Millie put an arm around Y/N’s neck and kiss her cheek as they took a selfie, and he suddenly forgot what the point was.
Niall gave his shoulder a gentle push so he snapped out of it, heaved a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Never mind. I’ve been having a bad week since she arrived.”
“But you were so excited to see her. You told me you’d had plans for both of you to spend time together.”
Harry lifted his shoulder and forced his attention to stay on Niall and not Millie and Y/N. “I did, but she doesn’t want to hang out with me.” Y/N didn’t either. “She’s spent every second in our flat doing girls stuff with Y/N. They’re attached at the hips now. Last night they stayed up until 3 AM to gossip. The walls are thin, you know? They’re messing up my sleep schedule.”
Niall was quiet for a moment before he said, “Do you think…”
“What?” Harry snapped.
Niall pursed his lips and shrugged. “I don’t know...Maybe...Y/N likes girls?”
“No, Niall. Y/N doesn’t like girls,” Harry said bitterly even though he’d been worried about that as well. The problem wasn’t that Y/N might be into girls. Harry didn’t care about that. It was the fact that Millie had never failed to get the girls she wanted. The only thing that Harry had that she didn’t was commitment issues. Millie’s last relationship had lasted a year.
It was bad enough that Harry had to fight off the other guys who wanted Y/N and might actually deserve her. He didn’t want to have to do that with his girl cousin!
“Y/N doesn’t like Millie like that, okay?” he repeated to Niall, frowning as he saw Millie and Y/N laughing again.
“Harry!” Layla’s voice brought him back to reality. He shot his head up to see her shouldering her way toward him and Niall. “You didn’t tell me your crush was gay! Niall, did you film him crying in the bathroom?”
Harry facepalmed himself as Niall said, “Told ya.” and gave him a shrug.
Later that night, as they walked home together from the party, Harry purposely stayed silent so that the girls would know he was mad at them. He had no right to be mad at either of them, but he felt like he should be mad if that was the only way to get their attention. Y/N was his flatmate, and Millie was his cousin. But now they were walking ahead, arms around each other and completely not noticing how upset he was. He told himself it was only because they were a bit tipsy. But he hated being left out.
“I’m going to sleep early,” he announced the second they entered the flat.
“Okay,” Y/N said.
“I’m really tired,” he added to drop a hint so she’d know he was upset.
“So am I,” she said, yawning and stretching her arms.
He was trying to think of something else to say that’d get her attention when Millie interjected, “Wanna sheet mask before bed?”
“Yes!” Y/N exclaimed. Then they hurried into Y/N’s room, leaving Harry standing there like a scarecrow in his own flat.
“I’ve got my own masks. Thanks for asking,” he muttered bitterly to himself, rolling his eyes and trudging to his room.
And so Harry decided to go to sleep early. He spent the first thirty minutes on the mattress by his bed, rolling from side to side, trying not to think about the two of them until he nodded off. When he woke up, it was three in the morning. The flat was so quiet and his bed was still empty.
Where was Millie?
He tried to listen through the wall to see if the girls were still awake, but there was no sound.
Annoyed, sleepy, and sad, he forced himself to get up and go to Y/N’s room to tell Millie that she must let Y/N sleep. When he got there, he found that the door was left open. The girls were fast asleep on the bed. And Millie was spooning Y/N.
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.
.
“You look like shit. Didn't you sleep at all?” was the first thing Millie said to Harry as he entered the kitchen the next morning.
He pretended like he hadn’t heard it and angrily marched toward the table, when all he wanted to say was, “And you look overly happy after sleeping in the same bed with my girl.” It sounded way too petty, but he was exhausted and not in the mood to feel guilty about it.
As he buried his head in his hands, Millie placed a cup of black coffee down in front of him. He looked up and caught her grinning.
“One cup of black coffee every Monday morning,” she said.
He blinked, confused and a bit surprised. “I don’t remember telling you that.”
“You didn’t. Y/N did.” To his astonishment, she added, “I’ve learned more about you in the last couple of days from her than I have by knowing you my whole life.”
This caught Harry off guard. He found himself sitting rigid in his seat. He was probably gaping at his cousin, because she tossed her head back and laughed and pulled up a chair to sit down beside him. “That’s all she does,” Millie said.
Harry scrunched up his face. “What?”
“Y/N. She always talks about you,” Millie giggled.
Harry tried not to react, but when he spoke, his voice wavered as if he couldn’t breathe properly. “S-She talks about me? What has she told you?”
“Surprisingly, only good things,” Millie said. “Like, we would do something like listen to music and she’d randomly say, ‘Harry likes this song.” Or we would be wandering around the mall and she’d see a shirt and tell me, ‘Harry would love that shirt but he hates it when people buy him clothes so I can’t buy it for him.” And just yesterday’s morning, she saw me making coffee and told me you’d always drink black coffee on Monday morning and only on Monday morning.” Millie chuckled as she rolled her eyes. “I thought hearing so much about you would annoy me. But I actually find it super cute that she cares so much about you to notice every one of those annoying little details.”
Harry felt his cheeks growing hot. His silence was the confession Millie had been waiting for. She smacked him on the arm as laughter crackled out of her. “You’re blushing! Oh my God, you have a crush on her!”
“I do not!” he retorted.
“You do!” She slammed her fist on the table, smiling with her mouth open. “And you thought I had a thing for her, didn’t you?! You were cranky last night because you were jealous!”
“Not true!” Harry gasped and quickly got up. Millie jumped in his way, not letting him off the hook so easily. “Admit it!”
“There’s nothing to admit.”
He attempted to sidestep her yet she was quicker. She folded her arms and leaned a shoulder against the kitchen doorway. “I know that face, Hazza. You made the same face when we were kids and found a lost puppy in the park and the puppy grew more attached to me.”
Harry pointed to himself. “I found the puppy okay? The puppy was mine first.”
"You petty little shit!" Millie’s jaw dropped, then she poked at the left side of his chest. “I didn’t know this thing worked. Wow, a miracle named Y/N!”
Harry smirked and brushed her finger off. “Very funny, Mil.”
“It sure the fuck is. I can’t believe you thought I was into her. One look at Y/N and I knew she wasn’t gay. My gaydar is never wrong.”
“Good to know,” Harry said flatly. “Now can I please get out of this kitchen?”
Millie ignored his question as she eyed him up and down and chewed the inside of her cheek to suppress a smirk. “You two are in love with each other.”
“No, we’re not. We’re friends,” Harry said, raising an eyebrow. “And I was only mad because you came here to see me but spent all your time with her.”
“Oh, please. Do not make this about me. You’re so in love with her it’s embarrassing.”
“In love with who?”
Harry almost screamed when Y/N appeared in the doorway. Somehow he managed to keep his calm and force a laugh. “Jennifer Aniston! Beautiful, beautiful woman!"
Y/N looked at him funny, probably assuming he was high on caffeine. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Millie fighting the urge to expose him.
“I’m going out now,” she said to his relief. “Gonna meet up with some old friends today. You kids have a great day.” Backing out of the door, she did the finger-guns and winked at him. “We’ll talk more about Jennifer Aniston when I get back.”
“No, we won’t!” he shouted after her.
Once his cousin was gone, Harry felt as if a weight had been lifted from his chest. Y/N didn’t seem to suspect a thing. She tiptoed to get a cereal box from the cabinet while humming a song she’d been listening to on repeat for the last few days.
Yes, she wasn’t the only one paying attention.
He squared his shoulders, took a deep breath and padded to her side. “Hey, Y/N.” When she turned around and smiled at him, he almost forgot what to say. “I-I um...I was thinking of buying a new shirt, and um...I was wondering if you could go with me, to help me pick one.”
Y/N suddenly broke into a huge grin. “Yes! I know this shop–” she blurted but then her mouth snapped shut and she lowered her voice. “I mean, yeah, sure, I know a shop...I think...But didn’t you say you preferred going shopping alone?”
Harry gave a half-shrug. “It’s getting boring. Doing things alone, I mean...”
Her lips curved into a cute little smile. “Let’s go this afternoon,” she said. “I feel like we haven’t hung out in days. You were always busy.”
Harry was taken aback. He pointed to his face. “Me? Busy?”
“Yeah, well, you seemed...not yourself. I thought you were stressed out about an exam.”
“No, not at all,” he mumbled, turning his face to hide his blushing.
She giggled softly. “Okay. So...it’s a date?”
“Yeah. A date.” He cleared his throat. “I mean, yeah, cool.”
“Cool,” she echoed.
Harry nodded once then grabbed his coffee and sauntered out of the kitchen before he could embarrass himself again. Suddenly, his phone chimed with a new text and he pulled it out of his pocket to see that it was from Louis.
Hey, Niall told me. I found this article that might be helpful. Stay strong!
Then a link to: “How to deal with depression when your crush turns out to be gay.”
Harry threw his head back and exhaled.
He was going to murder Niall.
746 notes · View notes
winterscaptain · 4 years ago
Text
dead man’s hand.
Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader
a/n: our 52 pickup ajf episode! i dunno about yall, but i was so excited to get my hands on viper in this universe. he’s ridiculous, and i think he deserves to be absolutely put to shame by aaron “BDE” hotchner. 
a joyful future fic, but requires little context. 
words: 5k warnings: canon-typical misogyny, language, improper comm conduct, emily prentiss: lesbian icon™
summary: your first case back to full duties after your injury at the septarian ranch just had to take you undercover, didn’t it?
masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | requests closed!
You’re happy to be back in your usual plane seat, just to the left of Aaron, with your notes in your lap. With your arm in the sling, you were relegated to the table, in Derek’s usual spot beside Rossi, to discourage you from slouching. It was Hotch who suggested it, of course, but that didn’t help your pride. 
Though your sling is gone and you’re back where you belong, your shoulder still twinges a little from time to time. 
As it happens, a twinge hits you right as Rossi asks, “How does our unsub go from loser of the year to Don Juan?”
While Spencer answers him, Hotch glances over at you. You wave him off. I’m fine, Hotch. 
He sighs and you both tune back in to Spencer. “...Don Juan was an ironic reversal of sex roles and when -” Spencer looks at Hotch, finding something in his face that usually made you laugh, but stops Spencer in his tracks. “Th-That’s about it.” 
You suppress your smile as Hotch refocuses the group. “Something must have happened between the last prostitute and Vanessa Holden, making him change his victimology.” 
“Could the unsub have known Vanessa?” Jordan’s question almost surprises you. She’s still settling in, but you’re learning she doesn’t hesitate to freely share her opinion. 
Hotch hesitates, as if waiting for someone else to answer. You oblige him, leaning around Dave a bit to see her better. “It’s unlikely.” 
Derek picks up your thought. “Yeah, sexual sadists attack anonymously”
“They have to sever a personal connection and see their victims as objects to perpetrate this level of torture.” Spencer softens your quick rebukes with a little closed-mouth smile. 
You spare a glance for Hotch and he raises his eyebrows for a split second before they drop back down. Your elbow makes contact with his arm, and you press into him for a second. Be nice. 
He huffs a light breath through his nose as Prentiss and Rossi bounce off each other. I am being nice. 
Then, as though your silent sidebar never existed, he jumps back in. “The victimology is so different, we’ll treat them as separate unsubs and see what overlaps.” He makes assignments, finally rounding out by assigning Derek, you, Jordan, and himself to the victim’s family. 
+++
Todd’s initiative continues to take you by surprise long after you land. She takes command of the situation at the precinct, and there are a couple of times where you can feel Hotch shift his weight. 
He’s uncomfortable. 
When Jordan leaves the room, you turn to the side and he leans in. “If you’re going to pull her, do it quietly. Something tells me she’s adverse to public criticism.” 
He nods, just a little, and you return to your former posture. 
The house is where things get really sticky. 
“Mrs. Holden,” she says, “we can’t begin to fathom the loss you’ve suffered.” 
You nudge Hotch with your shoulder (ouch) and he uncrosses his arms. Loosen up for a minute, would you?
“No, that’s right. You can’t.” Mrs. Holden’s tone is sharp, and you can’t help but feel for her - the stuff Garcia sent over was awful. A daughter, dead, and forums full of people saying you had it coming. Ugh. 
“But, um…” Jordan steps up, and you narrow your eyes a little. 
What is she doing? 
“I lost my older sister in a car crash.” You can feel Derek’s brow furrow as he checks in with Hotch. Aaron has yet to move and, as usual, his face gives nothing away to anyone except you. Something’s wrong. “And it was really hard on our family because she was the responsible one. She was the one that my mother always counted on to watch over us.” 
Your eyes flicker to Hotch’s profile, and you find his mouth a touch tighter, his eyes infinitesimally narrower.
Uh oh. 
We know that look. 
Again, what is she doing? 
“And when she died, my mother wouldn’t let the police in. If she didn’t let them in, then my sister wasn’t really dead.” Jordan leans in closer, as if her next words are a secret. “This man is a monster,” Aaron straightens with an inhale, and you feel yourself wind tighter and tighter as he does. You have no idea what you’re upset about yet, but you’re sure it's something. “...and we can catch him, but we need your daughter’s help.”
The mother turns on Derek in an outburst of pre-emptive anger. He very kindly de-escalates the situation, ever the voice of reason and empathy. Hotch takes another breath as Mrs. Holden turns to invite you further into the house. Jordan checks in with Derek before following her, almost smug. 
Aaron’s brows are drawn when you look at him again. Derek asks the question you’ve been waiting for. “Did you know that about Jordan?”
“No,” he says. “And neither did she. According to her file, she’s an only child.” Hotch walks away immediately, letting his implicit accusation hang in the air between you. 
You share a look with Derek. 
+++
“The information about Vanessa Holden being the responsible sister, where did you get that?”
You try to stay a little ahead of them, but Derek has no qualms about openly eavesdropping, turning over his shoulder. 
Her tone is matter-of-fact. “Some of it was online, and some of it was just an educated guess based on birth order.”
Still facing forward, you squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, as if bracing yourself for impact. 
“A guess.” Hotch’s question is flat and hardly a question at all. You almost cringe. Derek hops up beside you, much less interested in snooping now. 
Shit. You’re in it now, kid. 
‘Kid.’ Gimme a break she’s like...two years younger than you.
Yeah, but on this team, it’s dog years. The divorce alone had to be at least a decade.
“And in the process, you lied.” 
There it is. 
“That mother was shut down. I needed to salvage some rapport.” The note of defensiveness in Jordan’s tone pulls a sigh from you, and you can almost anticipate Hotch’s response. If pressed, you could recite it verbatim. 
“I don’t know how you did things in counter-terrorism, but we don’t make it a habit to lie to get the job done.” They stop walking, but you don’t, pulling Derek by the sleeve of his Henley before he can hesitate. 
“Let’s wait by the car,” you tell him. He gives you an expression that only says yikes. You reply with one of your own. 
As you approach the back door, you hear, “I got you in the door, didn’t I?” from Jordan.
Oh babe. Put the shovel down. This hole you’re digging for yourself is becoming unmanageable, and we’re all going to have to deal with his grumpy ass for the rest of the afternoon if you don’t quit. 
Derek leans against the door of the car, and you follow his lead, leaning against the back bumper. 
“Not only do you represent the FBI, you represent this team - ”
Ah, so it's the “representing the team with integrity” speech today.
 “ - to the press, the police, and to the families who are struggling with some of the hardest times of their lives. If you get caught in a lie, the trust we depend on to help solve these crimes disappears.” You inhale, sharp. It’s been a minute since you’ve heard that tone. “Do I make myself clear?” 
Yikes. 
Jordan, looking significantly chastised, answers, “It won’t happen again.” 
“No, it won’t.” 
Alright, that one pulls a smile from you and you do your best to bite back your laugh. Derek’s in the same boat. You both hope to recover by the time they get back to the car. A fit of giggles will do you absolutely no good at this point. 
“When we get back, I want you to prepare a press release about the unsub. Do not release it.” His phone rings, and he reaches for it, adding “From now on, everything goes through me.”
He passes you without meeting your eye, talking to Rossi over the phone. Jordan approaches you, and asks, “So how bad did I just screw up?”
You take a breath before answering. “Well, Derek would tell you on a normal scale of one to ten, probably about a six.” 
“I have a feeling that’s not the scale we’re using.”
You shake your head and open the door. “On Hotch’s, that was about an eleven.” 
The three of you slide into the car. You take the seat behind Derek, sparing Aaron from having Jordan in his peripheral vision while he’s trying to focus on not crashing the car. 
+++
“Hotch,” Emily says, getting your attention and Aaron’s. You both turn. “Of the self-described pickup artist classes in the area, there’s only one guy who encourages his students to dress like, uh..” she searches for a word for a second, “space cowboys.” 
A laugh escapes you, but you recover quickly. You glance at Hotch, an apology in your eyes.
Emily’s tone matches your mirth. “Are you ready to meet Viper?”
+++
The four of you lurk at the back of the room, listening to Viper’s sermon while trying not to laugh out loud again. 
“...and women, while they won’t admit it, want to be hunted. They need it.” 
You look up at Hotch. You’ve got to be kidding me. 
He doesn’t look at you, but the twitch of his mouth gives him away. 
You turn your attention back to Viper, who’s assertions are so far gone from reality you can’t even believe people paid for this. He goes on and on about the ideal mate, what women want, etc. etc. etc. 
This guy has never gotten laid in his life. 
Hotch nudges you with his shoulder as if he can hear you thinking, and you drop your eyebrows, setting your mouth in a tight line that could give him a run for his money. 
Emily’s losing it beside you, too. She and Derek have shared more than a few glances, and there’s no hiding the incredulous look on her face. 
“If you are smarter and more interesting, you will be a better predator -”
You keep your face from screwing up in a wince, but only just. Poor choice of words, there. 
“- because this is the jungle, my friends, and your prey wants to be caught.”
Derek doesn’t shift his gaze as he asks, quietly, “Would you listen to that language?”
You lean around Emily, whispering, “He’s training serial killers.” 
“Great,” Emily says. “We’re dealing with a rampant narcissist and misogynist who's turned himself into a snake oil salesman.” 
Yeah, that about sums it up. 
You both look at Hotch, who’s still watching carefully. “Just one more thing he has in common with our unsub.” 
At the end of the lecture you all stay where you are: four dark and intimidating figures irresistible to someone with an ego as big as Viper’s.
When he inevitably advances on you, Aaron introduces the team present and explains the situation in an even, measured tone. He doesn’t have to change a single thing about his presentation for the Viper to size him up and compensate accordingly. He doesn’t even acknowledge you or Emily in his futile effort to make Aaron feel small, counting on his own peacocking to do the job. 
That was your first mistake.
“So you think this - what did you call him - unsub took my class?”
With one hand in his pocket and another on his belt, Aaron replies. “He copied your ‘the camera adds ten pounds’ routine verbatim.” 
Viper has the audacity to look pleased. “Yeah. That’s a good gag.”
“If you could just give us your attendance lists, it might help us find him,” Emily says. 
You nod. “Any information you can provide would be helpful.”
“No.” 
Your eyebrows shoot to your hairline, and Emily beats you to a response, her tone appalled. “No?”
He’s decidedly smug now. You’ve never seen a face so well-suited for a punch. “My clients expect a certain amount of confidentiality. I won’t compromise that.” 
“We can come back with a warrant.” Aaron’s quick, flat rebuttal almost makes you smile. Viper ignores him, shifting his slimy attention to you.
You watch Viper take you in from head to toe, resisting the urge to squirm under his gaze. With a deep breath, you straighten your shoulders and ever so slightly put more weight on your right foot, keying you in to Aaron. When Viper meets your gaze again, he looks more than a little annoyed. 
“Be my guest, but keep in mind, the money I make doesn’t just pay for my fabulous lifestyle,” he turns to Emily again, “it also keeps very expensive lawyers on retainer.”
You redirect, hoping to catch him off guard. “What club did you go to last night?”
It doesn’t work. He eyes you up and down again. It’s disgusting. 
“It’s a legitimate question,” Derek says. “You seem to know a lot about our investigation.”
He turns on Derek, and you settle in for the show. “Two things to learn about me. First, I outwit alpha males like you for fun and sometimes profit.” You snort, but he doesn’t spare a glance at you. “How often do you have to rely on your badge to score, baldy?”
Aaron huffs a laugh, and it’s so quiet you’re almost sure you made it up. 
“Second,” he continues, turning to Emily again. “Last night, I was at Club Aqua and I have a stack of tax-deductible drink receipts to back up my story.” 
She shrugs, unimpressed. 
Emily Prentiss, you are my hero. 
You really tune in when his gaze finds Aaron, still standing a good two or three inches taller than Viper in far more expensive shoes. “Now, you might not want to believe that my style works.” You can tell Aaron’s trying to keep from smiling, his head tilted down at a condescending angle. “And here, in this harsh light, you have the advantage.” 
He has the advantage in every light. 
Shut up. 
It’s true, isn't it?
Viper steps up to you, uncomfortably close, and you do what you can to keep the grimace off your face. “But meet me on my turf…” He laughs a little and turns to Emily. It’s revolting. “The things I could make you do.”
The things Aaron could do on any turf, any time, any light -
Quit! Focus! 
Aaron steps between you and Viper. You gladly take advantage of the distance, moving just off Aaron’s shoulder. “If you have any questions, give us a call.” 
Viper’s eyes don’t move from Emily as he takes Aaron’s card. She sizes him up for a moment before turning around, still completely unimpressed. 
Down the hallway, she keeps pace with Hotch. “Please tell me we’re not giving up on that guy.” 
“We’re just getting started.” 
You can tell he’s irritated and tense, but there’s an air of smug amusement that colors his countenance. The lawyer has tricks up his sleeve, it seems. 
When you leave the building, you turn on Derek. 
“What the fuck was that?”
To everyone’s surprise, Aaron, putting his sunglasses on, answers. “Compensation.”
You try not to dwell on that implication for too long, barking a laugh with Emily.
+++
“Hey, Hotch.” You turn around, exposing your half-unzipped dress and bare upper back. “Can you zip me up?” He crosses the room and zips your dress, doing his best to avoid savoring the warmth of your skin under his fingers as he links the hook-and-eye closed. “Thanks.” You turn and he’s a little closer than you expected, looking at you with a peculiar, unreadable expression in his eyes. 
There’s silence for a moment and neither one of you moves. No matter how often it occurred, close proximity to Aaron always did weird things to your heart rate. You take a deep breath to steady yourself and return to the locker for a set of loud silver bracelets. 
“You’d tell me if you were uncomfortable with this, right?”
You clasp two of the bracelets around your wrist and turn back toward him. A little laugh leaves you. “I’m fine, Hotch.” You wordlessly hold your last two bracelets out, unable to secure them with your non-dominant hand. With a fond sigh, he crosses over to you and takes your wrist.
“Emily told me you’d both be alright and she’s handled people like this before, but this guy…” He trails off with a bit of sigh. 
“I’ve handled worse than him. Guys like Viper were a dime a dozen in college,” You shrug, watching him deftly handle the tiny clasps in his large hands. “Plus, you’ll be in my ear the whole time.” He reaches past you for your necklace and you turn around so he can put it on. He smells incredible and you can't help but close your eyes for a moment. 
“I have a good feeling we’ll be able to get somewhere tonight.”
You turn around again, smiling up at him. “I agree.” Thinking for just a second, you add, “Hotch, did you consider putting Jordan on this?”
“I did,” he says, his fingers reaching for the bridge of his nose. “Emily suggested it as well. I’m just not confident in her ability to complete surveillance in such a high-risk environment.” 
“Because of her mistake today?” You pass him and close the door to the room, ensuring the exclusion of prying eyes and ears. 
He removes his hand from his face and looks at you, playing at exhaustion. Of course.
You let all your breath out through your nose and you carry on as if you were explaining to a child. “She can’t recover if you don’t give her an opportunity.” You lighten up, adding, “Do you remember how many times I screwed up my first couple of months?” A wry smile crosses your face. 
He huffs and crosses his arms. “That’s different.” 
“Why? Because I was a NAT?” 
“No, you -” He takes a second to collect his thoughts, his brow furrowed. He gestures with a sharp, open hand as he speaks. “You made mistakes, but you never misrepresented yourself. I’m concerned about her conduct in the field.” 
“Send her out with us tonight.” Your appeal is casual, easy. “Emily and I will keep an eye on her and make sure she keeps her nose clean.” All things considered, Jordan isn’t much of an issue. She’s just green and (you’re sure) accustomed to a decidedly less-upright unit chief. 
“Are you comfortable with that?”
“Of course. Give her a chance, Hotch. We’ll be fine.” 
He nods, ready to leave the room, but then looks down at your wrist with a small, almost amused, frown. “Is that…?”
“The Dead Man’s Hand? Yeah.” You turn your wrist, revealing a pair of eights and aces - both clubs and spades, with the queen of hearts between them - inlaid in the silver. “I figured it was appropriate, if not entirely tasteless.” 
“Clever.” 
+++
You can tell Jordan’s forgotten about the comm in her ear when she leans over and whispers, “How do you do it?”
“Do what?” You keep your eyes on the crowd, lips barely moving as you keep a demure smile on your face. A guy without a chance in hell catches your eye and you break him with just a quick softening of your eyes and a wider smile. Luckily, he’s so flustered he doesn’t think to approach you.
She takes a fake sip of her drink. “You and Hotch get along really well, and I haven’t managed to get on his good side once since I’ve been here. How do you do it?”
“I have no idea.” There’s a small crackle in your ear, and you know Aaron tuned into your private channel to hear you better and talk to you alone. For his benefit, you add, “I’m not sure he has a good side, if that helps.” 
You hear a scoff and have to hide your laugh in your drink. 
Jordan shakes her head. “You’re kidding, right?”
“What?”
“He definitely has a good side -” 
“Thank you,” Hotch says into your ear. You cough to hide another laugh. 
“- and you’re on it.” 
You open your mouth to reply, but catch the eye of someone who looks unfortunately familiar. “You’ve got to be joking.”
Hotch’s chuckle in your ear warms you, and you hear a crackle as he switches back to the team channel. “20 on Viper,” he says. “Keep an eye out for our unsub.” 
Emily wilts beside you, and you can’t help but laugh. You pull Jordan a little off to the side so you’re able to hear Viper, but he doesn’t feel closed in. “You always want to give guys like this an out - if they’re backed into a corner and feel trapped, they close off and get defensive.” 
A crackle in your ear. “Is that so?”
Jordan nods and you can’t reply to Hotch with any degree of subtlety, so you settle for rolling your eyes. 
“Well.” You hear Viper from over your shoulder. Jordan cringes, and your brow pulls in a question. “Lucky me.”
She answers, narrating through a squint. “He just put his finger in his mouth and pulled it out a little too slow.” 
“Ugh.” You take a fake sip of your drink. “I hate this guy.” 
“I thought you said you could handle him?” Aaron’s voice in your ear almost makes you jump, and you almost turn around to smack him before realizing he’s not even there. 
Bastard. 
Emily sends some sort of wisecrack flying over Viper’s head. She’s so charming, you can’t blame him for immediately falling head-over-dick for her. 
“...So, affection, sex, emotional committment, it’s all just for fun?”
Against your will, your thoughts wander. You’re still listening, tuned in to his linguistic profile - the pattern, the rhetoric, the cadence, sure - but your heart pulls when you hear Emily list those three things. A sigh leaves you and of course you’re thinking of Aaron. 
You’re such a child. Don’t be an idiot. 
“You okay?” 
Of course he’s asking. 
You turn away from Jordan, looking out on the rest of the club so you can answer. “I’m fine.” 
“Need a break?”
You are feeling a little boxed-in, and as long as he’s offering… “Yeah, actually. That would be great. I just need some air.” You turn back to Jordan. “I’ll be right back - stay with Emily.” 
“But wait,” she says, holding your arm with gentle fingers, “we shouldn’t split up.”
“I just need a minute outside, Jordan, I’ll be alright.” You smile at her, small and warm, and escape her grasp. Slipping out one of the side doors, you prop it with a doorstop and lean against the wall. Your eyes fall closed, and you take a minute to breathe in the cold air. 
You hear your name in your ear, and you yank your earwig out. It's still close enough for you to hear the team if anyone needed you, but Aaron’s voice in your ear at this very moment isn’t helping with the whole “take a minute” thing. 
“Hey, I’m talking to you.” 
I thought I took that damn thing out - oh. 
Aaron rounds the corner and leans on the wall beside you. “You okay?”
You nod. “Fine. My shoulder’s just bugging me a little.” 
“Any more lies you want to share before I call you on them?” 
“No.” In fairness, your shoulder was bothering you, but it wasn’t the thing bothering you. That thing, in fact, was standing beside you with his kevlar on, waiting patiently for you to continue. “I’m just out of shape, is all.” You tilt your head a little. “And my shoulder really does hurt.” 
He guides you off the wall so you’re standing in front of him, your back to him. “What have you been doing in PT?”
“Muscle work, mostly. Keeping things loose so it heals without limiting my mobility.” You roll your shoulder, ignoring the flood of pain that zings down your fingertips. 
Warm hands find their way to your shoulder over the fabric of your dress. You picked something long-sleeved and high-necked, figuring the angry scarring from your still-healing gunshot wound would adversely affect your objective. You take deep breaths as he works at the muscle, releasing the little knots that built up through the day. He finds a bit of scar tissue, and a little yelp leaves you before you can stop it. 
His hands soften, but don’t stop. “Hang in there. Just a little more and it’ll take some pressure off the nerve.” He trades his thumbs for the tips of his fingers, walking over the knots with a methodical practicality that pulls at your chest.
You nod, knowing he’s right. Lo and behold, a few seconds later, the knot releases, sending a flood of warmth, followed by pins and needles down your arm. You flex and contract your hand in and out of a fist a couple of times, hoping to rid yourself of the sensation. 
“It’ll stop in a second.” He rubs his hands together, warming them up with the friction before passing over the back of your shoulder with a firm, steady pressure, all the way down your arm to your fingers. The heat of his hands really does help - your nerves calm almost immediately, and you can feel your pinkie for the first time in days. 
A little laugh leaves you. “I dunno why I keep going to PT when you’re right here.” You turn and offer him a soft smile. “Thank you.”
“Feeling better?”
No. 
“Much.” 
He offers you a small smile in return. “Good.” 
+++
You’re changing back into your work clothes with Emily and Jordan, pleased to find them full of laughter. 
“When you asked him if he practices his routine on a sex doll, I almost lost it.” Jordan looks over her shoulder at Emily as she clips her holster back onto her belt. 
“I did lose it, are you kidding?” You laugh. “I can’t believe I missed it!” 
Emily shakes her head, smiling. “You know, as much as I hate what that guy stands for, I still read ‘five ways to get noticed’ in Cosmo magazine.”
“Because it makes sense.” You look at Jordan, waiting for an explanation. She redeemed herself tonight, and you’re actually looking forward to hearing what she has to say. Though she doesn’t explain what she means, she does thank you both for vouching for her. 
“Absolutely.” Emily looks past Jordan, at you, and you nod in agreement. 
“Of course.” 
A knock sounds, and Aaron’s voice shoots around the corner. “I need you all out here, the unsub’s kidnapped another victim.” 
Shit. 
+++
You’re on Aaron’s six, waiting for the go. He calls the first team into position and holds up his hand. When he drops it, you fall into step, just off his right shoulder. Derek breaches first, tackling the unsub to the floor. 
Aaron kicks down the front door, and you breach from the other side of the house. There’s shouting everywhere, but Aaron’s presence centers you, giving you a mission and a focus. 
Keep him safe. 
He releases you with a wave, and you drop down next to Spencer on the floor. You cut the tape holding Austin’s hands together. She falls into Spencer, still terrified and sobbing. He looks at you and you nod, spotting her as he helps her to her feet. 
Tracking back to Aaron, you shadow Rossi as they finish clearing the rest of the house. You hover by the final door as Dave and Aaron reassure the unsub’s mother that she’ll be taken care of as they clear the room for hidden threats. 
In fact, there’s nothing except a sick woman and the machine keeping her alive.
“It’s a dialysis pump...It was issued ten months ago.” Dave looks back at you, and your lips press into a thin line. 
You look at Aaron. “Our secondary trigger.” 
+++
Jordan climbs the stairs to Aaron’s office, and you attempt to hide your interest as she knocks on the door and steps in. Of course, you can’t hear them, but you watch him call her back after she hands in her report. 
You recognize the look on his face - it's an expression you’re rewarded with when you’ve done something right. In fairness, it doesn't look much different from the one you get when you’ve done something wrong, but you’ve learned to pick up on the subtle differences.
Jordan leaves his office with a little smile. When she passes you, you offer her a, “Well done,” as you stand and climb the stairs yourself. 
With a knock on Aaron’s door, he beckons you in without looking. You stand a respectable distance away from his desk, waiting for him to finish whatever he’s working on. He knows it’s you, and has no issue keeping you waiting.
The composition of his desk has changed in the months since the divorce. Haley no longer smiles at him from the frame by his pen cup. That frame sits on the low shelf by his law volumes, the white veil over Haley’s face unable to mask her joy even from across the room. 
There are more pictures of Jack than before, both old and new. 
Eventually, he looks up, and you hand him your report. A smile plays at your lips, and another dances around the corner of his eyes. 
“That was kind of you, Hotch.” 
He shrugs. “You vouched for her work.” 
“Is that all it takes to win your approval, these days? My good word?” Your voice is laden with fond amusement. He rises to it, and if you didn’t know better you’d think he wasn’t smiling. When he answers, his tone is light, almost playful. 
“Yes.”
+++
tagging: @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @agenthotchner @wandaswitxh @hurricanejjareau @ange-must-die @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @shrimpyblog @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @good-heavens-chris-evans @angelsbabey @gublergirls @writefasttalkevenfaster @venusbarnes @hotchsflower​ @ogmilkis @marvels-agents100​ @hotchslatte​ @risenfox ​@mrs-dr-reid​ @captain-christopher-pike​ @joemazzello-imagines​ @pinkdiamond1016​ @pan-pride-12​ @hotchlinebling​ @lee-rin-ah ​@sunshine-em​ @word-scribbless ​@jdougl-love​ @sageellsworth05​ @nohalohoseok @giveusbackourbucky​ @bauslut @dreila03 @forgottenword @aaronhotchnerr @ssa-morgan @hotchnersgoddess @buckybau @phoenixfyre374 @sana-li @tegggeeee @abschaffer2 @ssacandi-ass-prentiss @dontkissthewriter @ellyhotchner @a-dorky-book-keeper @lotties-journey-abroad @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 @laneygthememequeen @ahopelessromantic @violentvulgarvolatile @andreasworlsboring101 @mooneylupinblack @ssareidbby @violet-amxthyst @zizzlekwum @lcvischmitt @emmasjulixn @qvid-pro-qvo @mandylove1000 @simsiddy @slickdickwitchbitch @jeor @synonymforlame @roses-and-grasses @bwbatta @capricorngf  @missdowntonabbey @averyhotchner @garcia-reid-lovechild @cevanswhre @colbyskoalas @joanofarkansass @infinity1321 @zizzlekwum @katiejuliana @popped-weasels @evee87 @nuvoleincielo
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kj-1130 · 4 years ago
Text
Listen to Me
Uswnt x reader
⚠️mentions of fighting/violence, cursing, Chad being an asshole, mentions of racism, homophobia, and sexism. Lemme know if there’s more I missed.⚠️
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Main Masterlist
It was time for another camp. You were the last to arrive due to still being in school and having to be there as many hours as you possibly could.
So here you were in the airport walking towards a pissed off Alex Morgan and Christen Press.
The day before your flight to camp, you had gotten into trouble. Trouble meaning you got into a fight. And word got to your teammates.
“Hello my favorite, most amazing people in the whole wide world.”
Alex simply rolled her eyes and grabbed your suitcase before walking towards the exit with you and Christen trailing behind.
You lowered your gaze to the terminal floor. Christen tried to catch your eyes but ultimately failed and decided just to look straight forward as she talked.
“You know, you shouldn’t resort to violence, (y/n). I don’t know what happened but everyone’s pretty upset and disappointed right now.”
Ouch. The disappointment card. Just had to pull that one like you haven’t heard it just about everyday of your life. You were honestly confused if people were actually disappointed when they said it or just used it as a guilt trip.
The ride to the hotel was full of silence. And not one of those silences where you feel comfortable with the people you adore and love. It was one of those silences where it made you nervous and anxious. It made you fidget and uncomfortable.
Getting your room assignment, being with Tierna, you tried to book it up the stairs. That worked for all of five seconds until you were called into the meeting room.
You reluctantly stepped down and made your way to the space and left your suitcase by the door. In the room were almost all the responsible/‘scary when they want to be’ ones. Sitting down in a chair with a sigh, you looked down at your fidgeting hands and waited for someone to start talking.
The silence that filled the room was very tense. All that could be heard was the movement of your hands and breathing.
When you thought things couldn’t get any worse, the most mama-bear of them all, Carli, spoke up.
“You know you can lose your spot for stuff like this right? You got into a fight, this is not something you need to be taking lightly at all. I don’t care what caused it, but you need to fix whatever’s going on with your behavior and attitude because you’ve been off for the past few weeks anyway. If something like this happens again, we won’t hesitate to take some disciplinary actions ourselves. Am I clear, (y/n)?”
You mumbled ‘crystal’ and attempted to leave the room only to get pulled down by Ash. “Now do you wanna tell us what started the fight?”
You were honestly getting really uncomfortable. Any movement you were making at the moment was probably the only thing keeping you from breaking right now; the furrowing of your eyebrows, the rolling of your shoulders, scratching your arms, bouncing your leg. You probably looked crazy.
You shrugged your shoulders and started spinning in your chair.
Ash put her hand on it and prohibited it from being able to move. “That was not a suggestion.”
Sighing and dragging your hands over your face you told them, “A boy knocked books out of my hands and pushed me so I pushed him back. He didn’t like that so he threw the first punch and I wasn’t about to let him push me around so I beat his ass.”
It wasn’t a total lie but it wasn’t the full truth. Yes he did push you. And yes he did hit you first. But there was so much more to the situation than that.
“Look I’m tired and I have work I need to do. If you want to scold me anymore, just please save it for tomorrow.”
Honestly you had never run up stairs so fast. The situation was so awkward and the way everyone was staring at you didn’t make anything better. There was so much disappointment in their eyes.
It’s like what you do will never be enough for anyone.
-
The next day everyone came down from breakfast. You went to sleep after 12 due to having work piled up from your asshole teachers. It’s not like they grade half of it anyway.
You still didn’t understand one of the lessons so decided to watch some YouTube videos on it and take notes while eating breakfast. That also gave you an excuse to sit away from anyone who would possibly want to lecture you about your ‘reckless actions’.
You were the last one down. Deciding to already have headphones in—to ignore anyone calling your name—you grabbed your breakfast and sat down at a table by yourself. Pulling your notebook and pencil out, you started the video and took notes while eating.
You could feel their eyes burning holes in your head. You’d honestly prefer they just come ask what they wanted than staring at you like some museum exhibit.
You just ignored it and did your work. That was easier said than done as Casey came over, sat next to you, and snatched your earphones out.
“Hey!” You scrambled to pause the video so you didn’t miss anything. “I was watching that.”
Turning to Casey, you pushed your glasses up and gave her a look that said ‘can I help you?’
“Don’t give me that face. I’m not the one you need to be having an attitude with.”
“I-I don’t have an attitude though.”
“Stop talking.”
You purse your lips, nod your head, and start bouncing your leg waiting to hear whatever she wanted to say to you.
“Look, I don’t know what’s been going on at school or at home but everyone can tell you’re on edge. Isolating yourself isn’t going to help anyone-”
“But I’m not isolating myself.”
“Interrupt me one more time, child.”
Casey was your first team mom. When you joined the red stars, she immediately took you under her wing and she became your mentor. The two of you worked well together and she constantly kept you on track. She was very nice but could be very strict when she wanted to be.
“All I’m saying is you’re making yourself look more guilty to them because you’re sitting over here looking like you’re all up in your feelings. You aren’t in your feelings. Right? Cause that’d be another conversation I’d have to have with somebody’s child and-”
You cut her off with your chuckle and shook your head. “Casey, I’m fine.”
She nods her head and contemplates for a few seconds, “Alright, come sit at the table with me then.”
“But I’m working.”
“Okay. You can work over there too.”
You simply watched as she grabbed your phone, notebook and breakfast to the table with a gaped mouth.
You blinked at her while she mouthed ‘come here’. Reluctantly, you pushed yourself out the seat and slowly made your way over. You sat down and reached out for your phone only for Casey to snatch it away.
“I need to do my work. What did you do that for?”
“Your work can wait. Socialize,” she said while putting your phone out of work.
With raised eyebrows you said, “Seriously?”
“Does it look like I’m kidding?”
Huffing you turned in your seat and played with your food. You’d honestly lost your appetite this morning; it was only 9 in the morning and people were already testing your patience.
You looked up and your eyes locked with Carli’s.
“Stop playing with your food, (y/n).”
You put your fork down and just got up to throw your food away. You couldn’t deal with this right now.
-
The two weeks of camp was boring and went by agonizingly slow. It consisted of pretty much the same routine; you’d do work after training, work during breakfast and spend any free days or breaks by yourself (occasionally with Tierna) in your room, on your phone looking at ways to improve and tricks to do.
It became annoying when all the vets constantly reprimanded you for the smallest of things. With Carli, it’d be ‘stop playing around so much’. With Alex it’d be ‘pick up after yourself’. Even Kelley was doing it for fuck’s sake.
You honestly couldn’t wait to leave and at least be somewhere where all the attention isn’t on you.
-
When you got to the airport, your girlfriend was there waiting for you. She pulled you in her arms and any leftover tension from the past two weeks immediately went away. She always knew how to make you feel better.
The two of you drove to her house and went over some school work before going to bed for the night. It wasn’t an unusual routine between you two.
When the alarm went off in the morning both of you groaned. The school you went to was a total pain in the ass and regardless of what day it was, you could count on it to be an awful day. It was a predominately white school with only 2 percent being a person of color; you and your girlfriend being part of that 2%. Half of them were racist, sexist, homophobic, and just all around assholes.
Walking into the school building, you could immediately feel all eyes on you. Trying to get past it, the two of you just went to your lockers with your heads down.
“Aye! Look at me you freak!”
It was the same dude you got into a fight with last time(his name is Chad by the way). Apparently a black eye didn’t teach him shit.
“When I tell you to do something I expect you to do it.”
He grabs your shoulders, turns you around and pins you to the lockers.
“You see my eye?”
“Yeah, you got your ass beat by a girl. What you gonna do about it?”
He punched you in the stomach hard.
“(Y/n)!” Your girlfriend. You looked up at her and shook your head signaling her not to get involved.
“Ima make you look worse than you made me-”
“Are you sure about that? Last time you failed, what makes you think it won’t happen again?”
Chad chuckles and shakes his head.
“You think you’re all that with that equal pay shit, and your racial equality and women loving women crap. Guess what you little bitch I’m going to end you and all those lesbians and gays and anybody else who thinks they deserve equality because you don’t. You don’t belong here. Just go kill-”
You kicked him in his balls, twisted his arm behind his back, and pulled it. When you heard that crack you smirked and leaned down to his ear.
“I don’t wanna embarrass you in front of your racist, sexist, homophobic, buddies, but lemme tell you. You don’t own anybody nor are you superior to anybody. Do I make myself clear?”
He only grunted but you pulled tighter which made him yell out.
“I said, ‘do I make myself clear’?”
“Yes!”
You pushed him on the ground and walked over him to your girlfriend.
“Why in the world would do that? You know what they’re going to do to you. You might not even get invited back to camp!”
“Babe, calm down. I honestly don’t care at this point. And neither should you.”
“(Y/n) (L/n)! My office! Now!”
You gave her a kiss and walked away slowly.
“Wish me luck.”
-
“You seriously got into another fight! What is going on with you!”
It was the first thing you heard when walking into the hotel lobby. Literally everyone was there. From the youngings to the vets. Surprisingly, you were called back to camp, but you honestly think it was just so everyone could scold you. Carli was absolutely livid, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care about anything at the moment since you were so pissed.
Walking past the team, you attempted to make it to the stairs, only for Casey to grab the back of your shirt and pull you back towards the tables. She pushed you down into a seat and took your belongings away from you.
You tried to get back up but you were only pushed down again.
Carli bent down and stared you dead in the eye.
“What is going on with you?”
“There’s nothing wrong with me. What I did was what I intended to do. It was no mistake.”
Alex interrupted, “(Y/n), you don’t understand-”
“No you don’t understand!” You stood abruptly from the chair and slammed your hands on the table. The chair fell and it was absolute silence.
You’d never been so loud. You were always on the quiet side and this was the biggest reaction anyone had ever seen from you.
You were heavily breathing, staring at Carli, the adrenaline pumping through you.
“Did they tell you what he did to me?! Did they tell you what he calls me, my girlfriend and every other female, lgbtq member, or person of color in that school?! No! Because they don’t give a shit. And they won’t give a shit until it’s one of their kids getting hurt!”
There was no dry eye in the room. Your hands were shaking and you took a deep breath to calm down. In a lower voice you spoke.
“They don’t give a damn about my well-being so why should I give a fuck about theirs?”
Taking a few more trembling breaths, you wiped the tears off your face.
“So excuse me for being off for the past few weeks. This shit will take a toll on anybody. And you can cut the bullshit with the ‘don’t fight fire with fire’ cause that’s the only way something gets through those thick ass skulls. They don’t allow you to do it peacefully. They don’t allow you to educate them.”
You looked at Casey with tears in your eyes.
“I just wanna go to school and get an education and be treated like a normal human being. What’s wrong with that?”
Crystal came over to you and caught you before you fell. She lowered you both to the floor as you sobbed your heart out. You kept mumbling ‘I’m sorry’ into her neck between breaths as she rocked you back and forth trying to console you.
Casey and Christen were the next ones over, the latter rubbing your back while the other was trying to wipe away the onslaught of tears on your face.
“Shh, shh baby. You did nothing wrong.”
Soon, every member of the team was crowded around. Tears were streaming down everyone’s face. Their baby, only 16, was going through all this stress and pain. Because of something no one deserves.
You eventually calmed down after 15 more minutes of crying. You’d been transferred to Casey’s lap, and your team mom was trying to comfort you to the best of her ability.
Casey took your face in her hands and wiped all the tears off. “You don’t need to be sorry, alright? There was nothing you did wrong. Stop saying sorry.”
You nodded your head and she kissed your forehead.
Everyone was still crying or wiping waterfalls of tears away.
They watched as you got up and searched frantically for something. You got your phone out of your backpack and turned it on. While you were pacing, the Home Screen popped up and you quickly logged in to text your girlfriend. One, because you always text her when you get to the hotel and two, if Chad and his stickman buddies hurt her, you were absolutely going to lose your shit.
When you logged in to your phone, you saw she already messaged you saying that you should talk to the others.
“Kinda late for that,” you muttered.
“What did you say, hun?” Christen asked.
You just shook your head and texted her back.
Gf: I mean we could always try to talk to the board.
You: Or
You: We could go on strike.
Gf: I-
Gf: I’m done talking to you.
You: wait no! Don’t leave me.
You: I love you
You had a frown on your face when you put your phone away.
Casey pulled you back down into her lap. “What’s with the frown?”
You groaned and threw your head back. “She’s such an asshole. She left me on read!”
The team chuckled, glad to see you was somewhat back to yourself.
Your phone dinged and you pulled it out. She said ‘I love you too, weirdo’
There were a few moments of silence as everyone was thinking of what to do.
“Can we go on strike?”
“No!”
Casey flicked your ear for that.
Tobin spoke up, “Let’s create awareness first. Maybe identify the school board, post all the school’s faults on social media. I don’t know, just some ideas.”
Carli nodded her head. “Look, we’re here for you. For everyone in that school that’s been wronged. We’re gonna help you alright?”
You nodded your head and leaned back onto your team mom.
“And if all else fails, we go on strike.”
“Oh my god.”
—————-
Lowkey think this was trash but eh. I don’t really care at this point but uh this topic is very serious and what I put in here doesn’t even compare to what happens irl.
339 notes · View notes
khaleesiofalicante · 4 years ago
Text
This is War - A Crack Fic
All the chaotic, horny energy today had to be channelled somewhere, right? 
You can read the fic here on ao3 too :)
Central park was a vision to behold. There were no mundanes within sight. The warlocks had made sure to glamour the entire area just for today.
“We are not shadowhunters,” Ragnor had said. “We don’t half ass things.”
He of course had left immediately after securing the parameter saying he didn’t want to be involved in another one of Magnus’ childish squabbles.
“Welcome everyone,” Simon said, standing on a podium hadn’t been there before. Where was that from?
“Why is he wearing a robe?” Helen whispered to her wife. Aline just shrugged.
“For far too long we have been trying to settle this debate,” Simon said in a deep voice that was not that deep. “But today, we must settle on an answer.”
Jace rolled his eyes. “Can we get to the good part?”
“Jace, you promised you’ll let me have my moment!” Simon hissed at him and then cleared his throat. “Today we will decide the most pressing crisis of our time. Who broke the coffee maker in the Lightwood-Bane household?”
“Wasn’t me,” Magnus shrugged. “If I did, then I would have fixed it immediately. It was obviously Alec.”
“Liar!” Alec gasped. “I love coffee. I love that coffee maker. Why would I break it?”
“Well, to love is to destr-” Jace spoke up.
“Honey, not now,” Clary shushed him.
“Listen, the kids can’t obviously reach the coffee maker yet,” Magnus pointed out. “And I’m not the one who takes out my frustration on inanimate objects. I mean we all know what happened to the kettle in the institute.”
There was a soft murmur from the shadowhunters of the New York institute.
“I WAS HAVING A BAD DAY!” Alec argued.
“Just admit you broke the coffee maker, Alec,” Magnus said.
“I didn’t do it!” Alec replied. “You’ve always been jealous of the coffee maker.”
Magnus snorted. “Jealous? Me? Pfft. You’re the one who is obsessed enough with the darn thing to name it.”
“Treat lightly, Magnus,” Alec said. “Charles is already dead. Why would you-”
“ENOUGH!” Simon said into the microphone. When did he get that? “Like I said, this childish argument has gone for too long. Today we will settle it like the civilized adults that we are.”
Simon bent down and picked up a giant gun.
“PAINTBALL FIGHT, Y’ALL!” he yelled.
Everybody started cheering – with way too much enthusiasm for a Monday morning.
“Alright. Magnus, Alec – whoever loses the game will agree that they broke the coffee maker, and we will put this whole thing behind us and move on. Do you agree to these terms?”
Magnus and Alec looked at each other and then nodded at Simon.
“Alright!” Simon grinned. “Pick your teams!”
Little Rafe ran towards Magnus.
Alec gasped. “Betrayed by my own blood.”
Max ran towards Alec. “We are going to win. I always win.”
Alec grinned at that. “I pick Jace.”
Jace grinned back and ran up to his parabatai. “Ohhhh y’all are so going down.”
Magnus laughed. “We’ll see about that, blondie. I pick Emma.”
“Oh damn,” someone said from the crowd.
“Emma, this is a paintball fight,” Alec pointed out. “You can’t use Cortana.”
“Don’t worry, it’s just for emotional support,” she said with a wicked gleam.
“Alright,” Alec said. “I pick Julian.”
“Isabelle,” Magnus called.
“KIT!” Alec yelled.
“TIBERIUS!” Magnus thundered.
“Count yourself lucky that it’s daytime,” Alec said. “Otherwise, I would have called Lily and she would have destroyed all of you!”
“Already making excuses for your imminent failure?” Magnus chuckled. “I choose Helen and Aline!”
“You can’t pick them both!” Alec argued.
“I can and I just did,” Magnus winked.
“Yeah, Helen and I won’t fighting in opposing sides,” Aline shrugged. “Sorry, Alec.”
“I got the lesbians!” Magnus laughed. “You are going down, Alexander.”
“You wish,” Alec said and whistled. Diego showed up behind him. “I got the Inquisitor!”
“Clarissa,” Magnus said. “The Angel’s chosen one.”
“Babe,” Jace said. “You can’t!”
“Everything is fair in love and war,” Clary shrugged, pointing a gun that was bigger than her. “And this is war, biatch!”
“Kieran!” Alec called and the unseelie king materialised from some corner and ruffled Max’s hair.
“Mark!” Magnus called.
“Cris-”
“Oh no you don’t,” Cristina lifted her finger warningly. She was perched on top of a tree. “I’m not going to be a part of this madness. I got a medicine kit right here. So, if anyone needs me, just holler, okay?”
“And I will excuse myself as the referee of course,” Simon pointed out. “Alright. Standard paintball rules apply. No serious injuries. If you get shot, then you’re off the game. Last team standing wins. And no runes or downworld powers. We are gonna fight mundane style.”
“YAS!” Kit cheered, already cuddling his paintball gun.
“Alright then,” Simon waved a flag. Where did he get THAT from? Did he have a bag of equipment just lying around?
“LET THE BATTLE OF THE COFEE MAKER BEGIN!” Simon yelled.
And then there was chaos.
The warlocks – mostly Ragnor – had changed the area into a paintball area. There were places to hide behind and attack from. It was really elaborate. Maybe Ragnor had more fun designing this space than he had let on.
“Alright,” Alec said to his team. “Let’s keep this simple. Take down anyone you see.”
“Anyone? What about our significant others?” Jace asked. “Do we shoot them down too?”
“Of course not!” Alec chastised. “We are not animals! Is that clear?”
“Yes, Consul!” everyone yelled.
“I DON’T CARE IF THEY ARE YOUR BOO OR YOUR BAE, THEY ARE GOING DOWN,” Magnus said to his team. “FIND YOUR SIGNIFICANT OTHERS FIRST. THEY WILL NOT EXPECT YOU TO STRIKE! USE THAT TO YOUR ADVANTAGE! THERE ARE NO SIGNIFICANT OTHERS. ONLY SIGNIFICANT ENEMIES. IS THAT CLEAR?”
“YES CAPTAIN!” they all cheered.
They all broke out and ran to find their targets.
It wasn’t even five minutes since the game had begun and Kit ran straight into Ty.
“Hey,” Kit waved.
Ty pounced and pinned Kit to the ground. He pointed his gun at his boyfriend.
“Alec said we can’t hurt our significant others,” Kit put up his arms.
“Our captain said no such thing,” Ty replied. “You’re not-…Why are you grinning? I got you pinned down.”
“It’s my favorite place to be,” Kit smiled. “I open my eyes and there you are. You’re beautiful.”
“Stop flirting with me when I’m trying to fight you,” Ty blushed and then held out his hand. “Fine. I didn’t see you and you didn’t see me.”
Kit winked at him and ran away.
Mark and Kieran found each other next.  They both held their guns at each other – neither of them shooting.
“This is childish,” Kieran pointed out. “I’m already bored.”
“Wanna go sit on that tree and hang out with Cristina?” Mark winked.
Kieran grinned and the two of them ran away too.
Helen and Aline looked at them and shrugged.
“We could just live stream the whole thing,” Helen pointed out. “Lily would like to see this.”
“I don’t know what that means but if that’s what you want to do and that’s what we shall do,” Aline smiled and and kissed her wife.
“Clary,” Jace said in relief when he saw her. “Thank god! I thought someone-”
There was sudden pain in his chest and he looked down to notice the big green splotch on this t-shirt.
“You...You shot me,” Jace said, sounding hurt.
“Jace, I’ve already stabbed you in the past and you once set me on fire,” Clary rolled her eyes and ran away to find her next target. “Get with it!”
“JULIAN ATTICUS BLACKTHORN,” Emma yelled and ran towards him. “YOU’RE GOING DOWN.”
“Not today,” he winked at her.
Emma blushed furiously just before attacking him. It wasn’t easy. Emma was skilled at close range combat, but Julian knew all her weak spots. So, they were even.
They wrestled for a while before Julian pinned her to the ground. He was breathing hard, his pupils dialed.
“I’m sorry, but this is strictly business,” he shrugged with a mischievous grin.
“But we are still on for tonight, right?” Emma asked. “I finally got a reservation at that Italian place you like.”
Julian’s eyes softened a litte. “You did?”
“Yes,” Emma smiled and hooked her legs on his ankles and flipped them in the blink of an eye. She shot him on the stomach and kissed him on his lips. “See ya at seven!”
Unlike everyone else Isabelle was not going to be fooled or manipulated by her significant other. Thank the Angel Simon wasn’t a part of this. She really liked the feel of the paintball gun in her hands. It was huge, powerful, messy and colorful too. Her kind of weapon.
She ran around the park and took down the others mercilessly. There were only a few of them remaining now – everyone else had already been shot.
But not Isabelle.
She didn’t care about the coffee maker of course. The argument was a ridiculous one.
She just wanted to win.
In the distance, she saw Emma take down Kit and Diego shoot Ty. She was off to destroy the Inquisitor when she had a familiar cry.
“Baby,” she ran to him. “My little blueberry muffin. Are you okay?”
“I fell,” Max sobbed. “Somebody pushed me.”
“Tell me who did this and I will-”
“ISABELLE DON’T!” she heard Magnus yell.
But it was too late.
There was a giant blue splotch on her white blouse.
“Max?” she asked in betrayal.
The boy just giggled and ran away.
In this distance, she now saw Diego covered in red, with a very satisfied Rafael hanging upside down from a tree.
And then the rest of them went feral.
“Surrender, Alexander,” Magnus said an hour later, holding up his gun, which was covered in glitter. “Everyone on your team is down.”
“Well, I don’t see anyone from your team standing either,” Alec pointed out.
“I still am,” Magnus said.
“So am I,” Alec replied.
“Give it up, Alexander!”
“Never,” Alec said adamantly. “This is for the coffee maker. I loved it so much!”
“Then you shouldn’t have broken it,” Magnus argued.
“I didn’t!” Alec said in frustration. “I love it so much because…because that’s the first thing you bought for me.”
“Oh,” Magnus said, the grip on his gun softening lightly.
“I know you have bought me so many expensive gifts but the coffee maker…it’s always been my favorite. I remember walking into your apartment one day, we weren’t even properly back together then, and you just bought it for me.”
“Well, you drink a lot of coffee,” Magnus grumbled.
“Yeah and you noticed. And you got me something so I wouldn’t feel weird in your apartment. You bought it so make me so comfortable. That’s when I realized I really, really like you.”
Magnus blushed a little. “Well, then now it sounds stupid to think you broke the thing.”
“That’s because I didn’t, Magnus!”
“Well, I didn’t either!” Magnus put up his hands. “In fact, the day it broke, I wasn’t even home. I was in the spiral labyrinth all day.”
“I know! I wasn’t home either! I had to go to the Mexico institute for an emergency meeting, so I called Jace to babysit the ki-”
They both stared at each other.
“JACE LIGHTWOOD HERONDALE!” Magnus’ voice boomed across the park. “DID YOU BREAK ALEC’S COFFEE MAKER?”
Jace was sweating. “Listen, I was gonna say something and then y’all started fighting and it was very awkward, and I was looking for the right time and then Simon came up with this idea and I thought 'hey we haven’t done a fun group activity in a long time and so why not?', ya know?”
Magnus and Alec looked at each other.
“Everybody,” Alec called. “Change of plans. Attack my parabatai.”
“AND SHOW NO MERCY!” Magnus yelled.
126 notes · View notes
vodkassassin · 4 years ago
Note
🥒✈ doing fuck marry kill using whoever. Obviously they will be overheard, by mqf, mbj, or both. Also can have sqh state his sexuality which is nothing. Ace rep baby.
Yesss danci I can always count on you! Thanks for slipping my hc ace!SQH in there. Ily @dancibayo
“I’m bored,” Shang Qinghua grandly announces.
“Yes, so you’ve said, fifteen times already,” Shen Qingqiu states dryly, but his friend steamrolls right over him.
“I am so bored, so,” Shang Qinghua says, “Shen-ge. Fuck, marry, kill.”
Shen Qingqiu startles, nearly dropping his fan. He whips around to stare at the other with wide eyes. Shang Qinghua props himself up onto his elbow and the grin that’s on his face is mischievous and evil.
“Wh—Airplane?” He nearly squawks, and then returns the grin. “No, stop—!”
Shang Qinghua’s grin nearly splits his face. “Fuck, marry, kill! Tianlang-jun—”
“No!” Shen Qingqiu laughs, reaching for the nearby cushion to chuck it at his cackling friend.
Shang Qinghua ducks the projectile and continues. “Tianlang-jun, Zhuzhi Lang—”
“Airplane!”
“And Sha Hualing!”
“Her?” Shen Qingqiu shrieks, diving for another pillow. His fan tumbles to the floor. “Out of everyone you could have picked for the choices, it had to be her?!”
Shang Qinghua, nimble bastard that he is, managed to avoid this cushion too. “First round will be easy! I definitely didn't have a brain blank and totally forgot anyone else existed. Plus! Shen-ge, I have to cater to the player! Bi-represent!”
“If it’s catering to the player, then this isn’t the game to play when it comes to you,” the Qing Jing peak lord grumbles.
He grabs his tea up from the table he sits at and down the entire cup in one go as if it’s a shot.
“You gotta choose!” Shang Qinghua needles, and Shen Qingqiu casts him a glare.
“Goddammit, fine,” he groans. “Um…. Fuck Tianlang-jun—”
Shang Qinghua bursts into laughter.
Shen Qingqiu scowls, but it directly contrasts the grin that is unwillingly stretching across his face. “What? At least I know he’s got experience!”
“Oh my god,” Shang Qinghua gasps, and then waves a hand. “Okay, go on, go on.”
He narrows his eyes at him, and then slowly continues. “Marry Zhuzhi-lang, and kill Sha Hualing.”
“Do you really hate her that much?” Shang Qinghua asks curiously.
“No,” Shen Qingqiu shrugs. “I mean, she’s practically a teenager, and I hate teenagers on principal, but no. She was just the only one left.”
“Fair enough,” Shang Qinghua bobs his head in acquiescence. “Why marry Zhuzhi-lang, though?”
“Well, I can’t fuck him—”
“I mean, you could, you monsterfucker—“
“You’re so goddamn rude, you know that?” Shen Qingqiu rolls his eyes. “He’s just way too…. too baby. I can’t fuck him, so marry it is.”
“Oh, yeah,” Shang Qinghua finally agrees, staring up at the ceiling in thought. “He is just baby, isn’t he? Okay, good choices, I agree.”
“Your turn,” Shen Qingqiu says dangerously. Immediately, Shang Qinghua raises his hands into the air in surrender.
“I can’t play this game!” He whines. “I can’t fuck anybody! That drastically tilts the answer results!”
“Just change fuck to something else!” Shen Qingqiu demands. “You don’t get to just be the one who asks the question every time, that’s boring as fuck. Listen — kiss, marry, kill?”
“Kissing is like, the same as marrying though,” Shang Qinghua squints at the ceiling. He’s lying on his back now, feet dangling off the side of the bed. He gives them tiny, little kicks as he thinks. “Maybe, like, cuddle?”
“Isn’t that the same as kissing?” Shen Qingqiu scoffs. “Just use kiss, moron.”
“Fine, okay, fine. So! Kiss, marry, kill… who?”
“Kiss, marry, kill… Liu Qingge, Mu Qingfang —”
“Oh my god, bro, please—”
“Listen, this is my revenge — and Mobei Jun.”
Shang Qinghua turns his head away from the so very fascinating ceiling just to glare at him. Shen Qingqiu feels so special, very loved. “You totally suck.”
Shen Qingqiu stoops down to grab his fan off the floor and flips it open just to smirk over the top of it at his friend. “You gotta choose.” He quotes.
“I fucking hate you.”
“I mean, you could go back to being bored, it’s all the same to me.”
Shang Qinghua scoffs, lifting his legs up and pressing the heels of his feet into the bed. “God, okay! Umm… kiss… uhh…”
Shen Qingqiu presses a hand against his mouth to smother his laughter. “I’ll wait.”
“Why the hell did you make this so hard for me?” His friend grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest. “You totally hate me don’t you? Um, kiss Mobei Jun—”
“Called it.”
“Shut up, monsterfucker. Kiss Mobei Jun, marry Mu Qingfang, and— oh fuck,” Shang Qinghua sits up and turns toward him, pout out at full force. “There’s only kill left! Shen-ge! I can’t kill Qingge!”
“You gotta,” Shen Qingqiu shakes his head sympathetically. “That’s the game.”
“This isn’t fair! I gave you an easy out on your first go with Sha Hualing, you have to return the favor!”
“You already started choosing!” Shen Qingqiu argues. “Anyone else I give you now is just me choosing a random person for you to kill!”
“I totally forgot kill was a choice after you gave me the names! Shen-geeeee!”
“Goddammit, fine! You can kill Yue Qingyuan, for me, okay?”
Shang Qinghua pauses his wailing to shoot him an amused look, pout vanishing into nothing. What a brat. “You really have it out for that guy, don’t you? Um, alright, sure, I’ll kill the sect leader for you, but only because we’re bros.”
“Don’t turn this back on me! You’re the one who begged me to give you someone else to kill! Anyway, it’s your turn.”
“Haha! Fuck, marry, kill — Rong Qingsheng, Ju Qingsong, and Qi Qingqi.”
“Easy,” Shen Qingqiu scoffs. “Fuck Rong Qingsheng, marry Qi Qingqi, and kill Ju Qingsong. At least try and make this hard for me, Shang-ge, c’mon.”
“Wow,” Shang Qinghua sits up again to look at him, tugging one of the thrown cushions into his lap to hold. “No hesitation at all! You decided that so fast… what’s the thought process?”
“Rong Qingsheng is pretty, and not a douche at all, so I’d rate him pretty up there on the fuckable scale just for that. Qi Qingqi is a scary lesbian Amazonian warrior, and if I wasn’t male I’d definitely go for her, but if she ever needed to marry a man as, like, a cover for her true lesbian activities while under the thumb a homophobic dystopian government or something, then I wouldn’t mind submitting my application for that.”
“She can be pretty, uh…” Shang Qinghua makes a face. “I mean—”
“Purposefully provocative because she likes watching macho men squirm when she takes them down a peg and also has bigger muscles than them?” Shen Qingqiu sighs dreamily. “Yes, it’s boss as fuck.”
“Okay, I wasn’t going to word it exactly like that, but yeah,” Shang Qinghua admits. “And Ju Qingsong?”
“He’s an annoying pest. Kill.”
“Bro!”
“What? Please, You cannot tell me that you haven’t daydreamed about wringing his neck even once?”
“I mean. He can be kinda—”
“Irritating? Aggravating? Drive-one-to-murder?”
“—But! Under all that he’s a good guy! He can be really sweet, actually! He’s only really like that because he’s got a useless gay crush on—!”
The door is kicked in. Shen Qingqiu startles, dropping his tea straight into his lap while Shang Qinghua gives a loud yelp and falls completely off the bed with a resounding thump.
They both whip around to stare in uneasy and slightly-guilty silence at the group of people standing outside the door.
“Oh my gods,” Ju Qingsong says, face pale and arm still outstretched. “It was so amusing at first, but please don’t kill me, I promise I’ll be better!”
Rong Qingsheng leans around the man and stares at them for a moment, before casting Shen Qingqiu a wink.
“I wouldn’t mind,” the mild-mannered man says, and Shen Qingqiu brings a hand up to rub over his face.
“Not that I’m not incredibly interested to hear what this was all about,” Mu Qingfang says, from behind them, and Shang Qinghua squeaks. “But, it’s time for Shen-shixiong to take his medicine.”
“Please don’t tell anyone,” Shang Qinghua pleads, holding his hands up to cover his beet-red face.
“I’ll do you one better,” Shen Qingqiu says calmly, pulling off the tea-drenched outer robe. “If any of you eavesdroppers have loose lips about what you heard here, to anyone, then I will kill you. Understand?”
Ju Qingsong makes an odd sound in his throat, one that sounds both terrified and furious, and the way that the man glances between him and the smirking Rong Qingsheng leads Shen Qingqiu to believe he knows exactly who Shang Qinghua was going to say his ‘crush’ was. How adorable. Too bad for him, then, that Rong Qingsheng seems to find him just as annoying as Shen Qingqiu does.
“There will be no murdering of martial family,” Mu Qingfang says mildly, stepping into the room. “Is that water boiled? I thought I’d try the tea blend, since the capsule form doesn’t agree with you, shixiong.”
“Many thanks,” Shen Qingqiu says.
“Oh, it’s never a problem. Shang-shixiong, Qingge was looking for you. I believe he has the location of one of those flying thunder beasts the two of you were discussing the other day?”
“I don’t wanna go monster hunting again,” Shang Qinghua wails. “Why can’t he just play go with me and call it a day?”
“You’ve overstayed your welcome, Shang-ge,” Shen Qingqiu tells him, smiling politely at the betrayed look his friend shoots him. “Would you mind escorting these two out?”
“See if I ever bring you the newest tea leaf export again,” the An Ding lord huffs, climbing to his feet. “Rong-shidi, Ju-shidi, lets go.”
“Qingsheng, Qingsheng, let's play that game too—!”
“I’m not doing this with you, Qingsong. Shang-shixiong, let's go. I wanted to talk to you about next month's produce quota.”
“Sure thing, Rong-shidi!”
“But, Qingsheng—!”
“Bye, Shen-ge, see you later!” Shang Qinghua chines cheerfully as he tugs the moping man after him. Rong Qingsheng walks out ahead of them. “I had a lot of fun today!”
“Sure,” Shen Qingqiu says, fan fluttering before his face.
He’d enjoyed it too, of course, but he’d never say that out loud. Besides, Airplane already knows, right? There’s no need.
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neptunetheplanet7 · 3 years ago
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𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨 - 𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦
DM ME IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE PUT ON THE TAGLIST!!
;mikasa ackerman x fem!lesbian!reader
;modern au, band au
word count: 2.1k
warnings: swearing, floch’s bad flirting
bold italics is a text conversation
listen to the music masterlist
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disclaimer again!! i wrote this a long time ago. i know there are things that need to be fixed and things that don’t fit right. i plan to edit this story more in the future but today is not that day :)
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You took a shaky breath in as you stopped midway of putting a clean sheet on the bed Mikasa would be sleeping in. The room still had some of her old stuff in it, it's just no one ever came in here after she left. You looked around at all the items she left behind. Smiling fondly at an old picture of you two, you noticed a small figure crossed out in the background. Glancing at the rest of the photos on the shelf, you noticed that every photo had something crossed out.
After looking at each picture, you came to the conclusion the figure was Jean. She must have only taken the photos without him and did this to the rest. You frowned and walked back to the bed. Carefully, you climbed onto it and propped a few pillows up to support you as you leaned back.
For the first time in two years, you got a good look around the room. On the side of the room with the door, there was a large glass window overlooking the balcony above the living room. You always found it strange that she chose a room like that when she usually kept those blinds shut. Her bed was in the middle of the room with a tv mounted on the wall across from it. On the other side of her bed, there were a couple of bean bags below the bay window that looked out on the driveway.
You sighed and took out your phone, pulling up old texts with Mikasa. The last time you texted her was three months ago when you got too drunk at one of Reiner's ragers.
mikasa
mikasas pleasdse
come home
i miss you
i miss you so much
we all miss you so much
come home to me.
She didn't respond to that and you wouldn't know if she even looked at it. She turned her read receipts off for everyone after the first week of trying to contact her. The only time she had ever contacted anyone was two weeks after she left the house.
Don't look for me. Don't contact me.
You got a lot of your friends asking if you got the same message. She sent the same thing to everyone who tried to get in contact with her. You still didn't know where she was or what she was doing. The only thing you knew was that she was coming home the next day. You sighed. Suddenly, you didn't feel like cleaning anything else. You briskly walked out of her room and dialed the number of your best friend.
"Hey, Y/n! What's going on?" Sasha's cheery voice rang through the line.
"Hey hey, Sasha. I'm doing great. At least, I think I am. Do you wanna go somewhere? You can pick me up? Or I can pick you up if you like."
"I'll come to pick you up, honey bunny, don't you worry." You heard her struggling with her keys on the other side of the line and snorted at the noise.
"Need some help, Sash?" You grinned while skipping steps.
"Fine, thanks." She grumbled. "I'll be there in fifteen! You stay put!" She briskly hung up.
Sasha had been your best friend ever since Eren's nineteenth birthday party. She caught you and Eren coming back inside just as she was about to leave, with half the pantry in her arms. She asked for your number to make plans to hang out and chat sometime. You happily obliged, which was probably the happiest thing you had done that night.
You tossed your phone onto your bed as you walked into your room. Your room was on the first floor. You got first pick since you were the one who inherited the house. The house was big and beautiful. It was also on a lake. Perfect for the parties Eren and Jean loved to host. Perfect escape from paparazzi.
Your room had big glass doors that opened to the balcony that wrapped around the back of the house. You had a great view of the lake. The room was painted white. There was a black marble fireplace in one wall with a small wardrobe you used for storing memorable items to the band. You didn't need to use it for clothes since you had a walk-in closet in the big bathroom you partly shared with your bandmates. Jean liked to use the large bathtub.
You collapsed onto the bed and stared into the vanity mirror next to it. It was then when you realized you were still in your pajamas. "Oh shit." Your eyes widened as you hurriedly stumbled over to the closet, falling over once.
You grabbed a pair of baggy sweats and a big t-shirt. With duck socks, of course. The outfit didn't look much different than your pajamas but Sasha would probably be wearing something similar.
You threw your hair into the easiest hairstyle you could muster. You grabbed your boots and hopped up and down while trying to put them on while also leaving the room. "Jesus." You muttered.
Your phone vibrated, signaling that Sasha was here. "I'm heading out with Sasha! You're on your lonesome!" You called out to wherever Armin was in the house.
"Okay! Don't be back too late!" He shouted back.
You laughed aloud as you realized how much he sounded like a dad. You opened the front door and ran to Sasha's car. "Let me in!" You knocked on the passenger window as she reached around to find the button that unlocks the door. Once it was unlocked, you swung open the door and hopped inside.
"Nice outfit," was the first thing she said to you. You glanced at her outfit and scoffed. Your predictions were correct, she was wearing something similar.
"Gee, thanks." You gave a lopsided smile and rolled your eyes.
"Where to, honey bunny?" Sasha said, giving a mock salute while her other hand rested firmly on the steering wheel. You giggled and thought about it. You called her on such a whim that you forgot to even plan anything.
"Uh how about Brain Freezes? I could really use a catch-up with Connie right about now." You suggested.
"That sounds like a great idea! Turns out you do have a brain up there." Sasha snickered.
"Oh good one, because you're the real genius here, clearly."
After a lot of lighthearted banter, you arrived at Connie's workplace. Sasha aggressively grabbed the door handle and slammed it open, causing the bell to fall off its perch and land on your face. "Oops." You grimaced and bent down to pick up the bell. You rang it in front of her face.
"Sasha! Y/n! My two favorite customers!" Connie jumped up and down on the other side of the counter. "How can I assist you ladies today?"
"I'll have the usual." You gave a half-hearted smile, head still impaired from the bell. Sasha had quite the habit of accidentally hurting you.
Sasha snatched the bell from your grasp and started ringing it. She announced her very long order that you could barely keep up with, but Connie was used to this kind of thing, especially with her.
You noticed one of his coworkers scowling at Sasha. You didn't like Floch, to say the least. He was always inviting himself to your parties but he was rude to all of your friends at the same time. He noticed your gaze and smirked.
He strutted over to where you stood, pretending to become very interested in toppings. "How are you, Y/n? It's been a while huh?" He leaned over your shoulder in a way that workers shouldn't with their customers. You made a hasty effort to slip away from his presence.
"It really hasn't. I came here last week. I come here every week and you say that every time." You usually tried to be nice to Floch, but today you didn't feel like being nice.
"Well, even a day without you feels like an eternity." He flirted horridly. You stared blankly at him until he awkwardly cleared his throat and traded spots with Connie at the register.
Connie took off his apron and handed you and Sasha your orders. "Sorry about him. That guy really can't take a hint even if it's right in front of his face." He shot Floch a venomous glare. "Luckily, you guys got here right as my shift ended! Wanna get out of here?" His previous anger seemed to dissipate in an instant.
"Yeah, I do! Where should we go?" Sasha beamed with her spoon still in her mouth.
"Can we just drive around? I've got something I wanna tell you guys." You played with your spoon in the ice cream, averting eye contact.
"Sure thing, Y/n. Let's go." Sasha and Connie said in unison.
Sasha let you drive her car since she was preoccupied with her mountain of ice cream. Connie didn't have a car, he failed his driver's test every time he took it. You'd think he'd learn most of the material by now. "Hey, Y/n?" He asked from the backseat.
"Yeah?" You nodded to him.
"Are you gonna finish that?" He said, referring to your cup of ice cream in the front cupholder. You sighed.
"Go ahead." He thanked you over and over as he leaned over and snatched it.
"So, Y/n? What was it you wanted to tell us?" Sasha wiped her hands on her pants and set the empty container in an extra cupholder.
You gripped the steering wheel harder then relaxed. You took a shaky breath in. "Mikasa is coming home tomorrow."
Connie started choking on your ice cream. "I know, I had the same reaction." You quipped.
"Mikasa..is...WHAT?" Connie managed between coughs.
"After all this time? It's been two years. Tomorrow? That's so sudden! Are you even ready to see her?" Sasha's mouth was gaping open. You leaned over and shut it for her.
"Yes, tomorrow. I still have to get the house ready. I couldn't even make it through her old room without calling you. Jean told us this morning. I don't think we should be worried about me being ready to see her. I think we should be more concerned about her and Jean." You informed. "But, then again, she told Jean about her return first. Plus he's picking her up tomorrow at the airport. So based on that, I think they're on better terms."
"You don't think they'll get back together, do you?" Connie said, his eyebrows furrowing.
You snorted. "Of course not. You know Jean is with Marco now, and he seems pretty happy with him. They've been together for two years now, probably longer if I'm being honest."
"Then what do you have to worry about?" Sasha asked, confused.
"Are you joking? I mean, what if she has found someone? What then? What if she quits the band forever? What if we argue? She dropped off the map two years ago. Completely. She stopped responding to me, to all of us. For two years I thought she lost her interest in everything and went to live a new life, with people better than me. And now she's coming back, out of the blue! It's too much." You stressed.
Connie and Sasha made quick eye contact. "Y/n, I think you're reading too far into it. I doubt anyone could lose interest in you. You're too cool! Let's look on the bright side, she's ready to come home and you finally get to see her again," Sasha said in an attempt to lift your spirits. You smiled graciously. You really were lucky to have a friend like her. "Right, Connie?" She gestured to Connie who looked very deep in thought.
"Didn't you and Mikasa go out in high school?" You almost crashed the car from the shock of the question.
"Briefly, yes. But we weren't 'going out' so to speak. We just, like, made out a couple of times." You could feel your face grow hot at the subject. You thought you were over your crush on Mikasa, but after hearing that she was coming home, the familiar feeling was coming back.
"You're going red, Y/n. I think it was more to you than just a make-out." Connie grinned while Sasha wiggled her eyebrows.
"You're totally in love with Mikasa!" Sasha sang.
"Shut up, you two. I don't wanna get into the details right now." You couldn't even try to hide your heated face since you were the one driving the vehicle.
"Not right now? So maybe somewhere down the line, you will?" Sasha raised her eyebrows and broke out into another infectious grin.
"Whatever, Sash. Enough about Mikasa and me. I really wanna hear about you and Niccolo." You gave her a similar grin while she slowly turned red.
"Nice one, Y/n!" Connie cheered.
"You idiots should just shut it!"
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posted: 8/24/21
neptunetheplanet7© 2021
no reposts, edits, or modification to my work by anyone other than me.
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donutloverxo · 4 years ago
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Two is better than one
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Note- Also my contribution to our weekly challenge based on the moodboard above.
Please do not steal or repost my works. Reblogs are welcome.
Summary- All this shit just because you wanted some of that russian pussy or/ how you navigate a relationship with your new girlfriend and your fiancé.
Warnings- smut, mff threesome, over stimulation, dom/sub dynamics, poly relationship, no romanrogers, angst
Pairing- Steve Rogers x reader x Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers x reader
Word count-6.5k
Masterlist
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You had been hanging out with your fiancé’s friends at a bar. It was sort of a post-mission party, a way for everyone to relax and wind down. Steve Sam and Tony had just gotten back from a three week long mission. You had missed Steve terribly. Even though you talked daily it was still hard to not have him be there for you when you got back from work. Steve being the overprotective, sweet, perfect boyfriend that he is asked Nat to look after you while he was gone.
Normally you would've been mad. You’re a grown woman who can take care of herself. You didn’t need a bodyguard or caretaker. But it all worked out amazingly as you got to spend more time with Nat and somehow ended up becoming even better friends. You didn’t even notice when the three weeks were up.
“I bet I’m a better kisser than you” Nat cheekily smiling at Steve.
Everyone else had went home or to another bar. Right now it was just you and Nat in front of Steve in a booth. Somehow you had started talking about his ‘golden boy’ persona and his old school values.
“Yeah?” He returned her smile draping his arm over the back of his seat “I’m willing to bet you’re not”
“There’s only one way to find out” She giggled turning her head to her right to look at you biting her lower lip. You both had had one too many tequila shots.
“It’s only fair. She has already kissed you” You said to Steve referring to the time Nat had kissed him so they wouldn’t blow their cover. He was so sweet fessing up to you as soon as he got back, expecting you to be mad.
Before he could say anything Nat grabbed your chin crashing her lips onto yours. She felt warm and soft. You pressed your fingertips against the curve of her cheekbones. Her lips were just as plump as Steve’s albeit a bit smaller. She slipped her tongue into your mouth as you sighed into the kiss. She pulled away as you both tried to catch your breaths.
You were all silent for a while, Steve staring at the both of you, his lips pressed in a firm line. You couldn’t read his expression, which was strange. Usually you could easily tell what was going on in his mind. You knew how much men were obsessed with lesbians or girl-on-girl things but Steve wasn’t that kind of guy. “So?” he asked you.
“Who’s the better kisser?” Nat gave you a cocky smirk as she assumed she had already won.
“You’re both good...” You paused thinking about the right words to choose “in your own way”
“She’s just trying to spare your feelings Rogers” Nat scoffed.
“She obviously likes me better”
You changed the subject before the situation could escalate anymore. You had to resist the urge to ask Steve who was a better kisser between you and Nat. But you knew he would choose you. Nat sure had left you wanting more. You wished you could pull her in for another breathtaking kiss. You avoided looking at her for the rest of the night so you wouldn’t be tempted.
“Look at that ass” You giggled hanging off of Steve’s shoulder. You were too drunk to walk or to even comprehend what was going on around you. You felt so giddy and high as if you were weightless and on cloud nine. “Such a bubble butt” you tried to give it a nice smack but couldn’t from the awkward angle.
“Bubble butt?” He repeated and chuckled “it’s all yours baby” He said fondly. He punched in the code for your apartment heading straight for the bedroom and gently placing you on the bed.
He kissed your forehead to which you giggled some more. You plopped down on the bed staring at the ceiling which seemed to be spinning at the moment. He returned with your makeup wipes taking your make-up off your face. He always said you didn’t need it but helped you out whenever you wanted to try a new eye shadow. He did work well with colors and brushes.
“Ooh my head hurts” You scrunched your nose at the artificial lemony smell from the wipes.
He opened his mouth as if to say ‘I told you so' but then knew better and closed it running another clean wipe across your face he was done. “All done. You wanna slip into something comfortable?” He asked looking at your tight dress which pushed your breasts up together, giving you a much more prominent cleavage.
He threw the used wipes in the dustbin in your bathroom. You looked at him as he went about his nightly routine. Brushing his teeth washing his face. You reached back struggling to unzip your dress after some attempts you get a hold of the zip pulling it down. The straps fall off of your shoulders as you got rid of your strapless bra kneeling on your bed in just your panties. You started to fondle your breasts to entice Steve, give him a nice show. It had been weeks since you made love. You had to make do with your pink vibrator which wasn’t half as good as the real thing.
His jaw dropped as he looked at you squeezing your breasts together, gasping as you pinched your nipples. “Wanna fuck me daddy?” You moaned slipping your fingers in your panties to play with your clit. Before you could even reach it his hand stopped you holding onto your wrist.
“I don’t think so” He said holding your gaze “I’m not fucking you when you’re this drunk. It’s time for bed come on” he pulled your hand out of your panties and handed you his t-shirt which you often used as a sleep shirt.
“I can do it myself then” You huffed laying down on your side of the bed slipping your fingers between your thighs lightly grazing over your clit. You couldn’t concentrate not with Steve staring at you with his intense blue eyes. You whined pathetically pulling your hand out of your panties and giving up. You’ll get that dick soon enough, you were too tired anyway.
You didn’t need to look him to know he was smirking. You closed your eyes trying hard to sleep. If you aren’t hung over in the morning, which you probably will be, you can sneak in some morning loving from Steve before he goes to work. You felt the heat of his thumb on your hipbone, lingering there for a few seconds before he pulled your panties down. He knew you never liked to sleep with your underwear on.
“You wanna put on the shirt?” He asked to which you whined shaking your head. The silk sheets felt smooth and nicer against your naked skin. He covered you with the comforter switching off the lights, he pulled you into him, draping his arm across your stomach.
After a few minutes you opened your eyes and looked at him to see if he was asleep. You couldn’t really tell in the dark. You softly called out his name to which he gave no answer. “Would you hate me if I loved women like I love you?” you whispered in the dead of the night so lowly you weren’t even sure if you actually said it.
You felt tears streaming down your cheeks. Something you had hid from him since you started dating. You weren’t even sure why. You told yourself it didn’t really matter. You were never going to look at anyone else or think about anyone like that. You had committed your heart to him when you agreed to marry him. You heart now belonged to him.
“I could never hate you sweetheart” He admitted pressing a kiss to your forehead drying your tears off of your cheeks.
Of course he wouldn’t. You were so stupid to think something like this could ever change his feelings for you. Especially since he showed you everyday in so many ways just how much he loved and adored you. You hugged him nuzzling his neck.
“Do you – “ He paused clearing his throat “do you love Nat like that?” He asked speaking into your hair.
“Honestly? I don’t know. I mean I am sort of attracted to her and love her as a friend...” You trailed off.
You always had amazing chemistry with Nat. Well not always. She was kind of standoffish in the beginning. Almost mean to you when she gave you the shovel talk about not hurting Steve or else. Although you understood where she was coming from you decided it would be best to avoid her.
A simple florist like you didn’t have much in common with someone like Nat anyway. But then as you spent more time together you got to know her. A side of her she didn’t show to everyone. Now she was one of the most caring and kind person you know. A stark contrast to her first impression. You would go as far as to say she was your best friend. You did sometimes stared a bit too long at her for it to be considered proper. She was beautiful and graceful in everything she did, almost like a ballerina. But you never thought about those feelings or even let yourself think of her in anyway other than platonically. You would never do that to Steve.
“But I love you. I’ll never let anything come between us” You continued looking up at look at his face.
He was quiet for a while you thought he didn’t want to speak of it anymore ready to go back to sleep you tucked your head under his chin. “Would being with Nat make you happy?”
“I am happy” You spouted instantly. You were on the verge of panicking. This was the last thing you wanted, for Steve to doubt himself and your relationship.
“Would you be happier if you were with Nat?” He wondered.
“All I know is I would be miserable if I’m not with you” You said and left it at that untangling yourself from his arms to sleep on your back.
He hummed at that. “Have you ever been with a woman?”
You resisted the urge to groan. You really were tired. “No. If I had I would’ve told you” You and Steve were each other’s first. You didn’t have any experience with men or women so when Steve when told you he didn’t as well, you were happy, there would be no pressure, no expectations to live up to.
“Would being with a woman – or Nat be different?”
“I don’t know probably” You could think of a million ways it would be different and amazing.
“If it’s something that will make you happy then I want that for you” He explained drawing patterns on your stomach.
You snorted “You?” you had come to know over the course of your relationship that Steve was jealous if anything. He absolutely hated it if another man even looked at you. There was that time when he pulled you into him by firmly gripping your waist, flexing his muscles and trying to act all ‘alpha' to scare the poor guy who was just trying to make small talk.
You would have been mad at him if you didn’t notice the slightest hint of vulnerability in his eyes. He did apologize to you. Confessing that he didn’t feel good enough for you which was beyond ridiculous. Steve was your best guy. Sure his tall and burly physic is what first caught your eye, but even if he didn’t have all that he has now, you’d still love him just as much. He still needed to get that through his thick skull.
He often sulked or pouted for a while when you’d go out with your friends leaving him alone to his own devices. He wasn’t overbearing enough for it to be annoying, but he was possessive enough for it to be almost cute. “You don’t know how to share”
“That’s not true. My Ma always said that sharing is important and made sure to teach me that” He said defensively.
“Sure”
“look I don’t like it when random men flirt with you. They don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve you – “ you opened your mouth to interrupt him but he didn’t give you the opportunity “I trust Nat. She would take as good care of you like I do”
As much as you would’ve liked to say that you don’t need or like to be taken care of, you actually did like it when Steve did it for you. You weren’t sure how you would feel if Nat were to do so.
“Are you sure?” You asked propping yourself up on your elbow. He nodded running his hand up and down the side of your waist. “What if it changes things between us?”
“then we end it” He said gravely which nearly frightened you.
You don’t remember when you dozed off. The next morning you asked Steve if he was still serious about it. Part of you was afraid it was some sort of test to see how loyal you were. Part of you was excited to get to explore a relationship with your crush. He said he'd be willing to give it a shot as long as you were honest with each other.
It was strange of Steve to act so... progressive? If that’s the right word for it. He was stubborn, often not willing to change. But it wasn’t too hard for you to believe that he’d make an exception just for you.
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The moment Natasha laid her eyes on you, she knew she was a goner. She wasn’t one to believe in love at first sight, or even love at times. But she knew she felt an instant attraction towards you. Just how sweet and naive you were. So soft, innocent, untainted by the world. She knew you had some sort of feelings for her, she could tell by just how nervous you got when you were around her.
She told herself she would only admire you from far. She had a habit of falling for unavailable people. She had managed to develop some sort of friendship with Steve and she wasn’t willing to jeopardise that.
She was more than surprised when you asked her out. Telling her that Steve was okay with it. And it took a lot to surprise her. She had seen everything. She never pegged Rogers to be someone who would share. She was for the first time at a loss for words. She wished she could see your face while you did it. Just how embarrassed you would be. But you did it over text. She agreed to it. Of course she did she would never say no to such an opportunity.
There you were so shy and nervous as if you were meeting her for the first time. You gave her a single stem of rose. “It reminds me of your fiery red hair” You said looking at the ground.
She was about to make a quip to ask if Rogers told you to say that, considering just how romantic he could be. But she decided to just accept the compliment and the rose. While eating dinner there were some awkward silences but for the most part it was quite pleasant. Nat never really dated. She didn’t have the time or space for it. She never felt the need to anyway. She told herself to not get her hopes up. She was still trying to figure out Steve’s intentions. She knew for a fact he wasn’t a cuckold. He couldn’t be. Although nothings impossible. Nat dropped you off at your apartment door, which was just one floor above hers. She pecked your lips for a quick kiss thanking you for your time and the rose.
Next order of business was to talk to Steve. He had a hard time lying or hiding his emotions, even if he wanted to. Which most of the times he didn’t. He was straightforward, direct, a no nonsense guy. Which was a blatant conflict to how he acted around you. He was still honest, but a lovestruck fool. She supposed that’s what loving someone like you does to a person. She was lucky to catch him while he was on a break. Sparing with a few recruits they were borrowing from the FBI for the time being.
He nodded at her to acknowledge her presence as if urging her to speak. Her curiousity ate away at her. What were his intentions? She knew him enough to know they couldn’t possibly be malicious.
She told him about what a good time she had with you. “how are you okay with this?” She asked.
“I think her hearts big enough for two people” He admitted. There was something about the way he said it, a wistful look in his eyes, how he seemed to try so hard to hide his sadness.
She didn’t really believe him. But she knew he would come around if he had any doubts.
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For the next month you and Nat went on date quite often.
You were nervous if anything. Steve was your first partner. You had some experience before him but nothing too significant. You didn’t know much. He didn’t ask for much in bed either, other than making you keep up with his super solider stamina, which was a hard task in itself.
You knew Nat had plenty of experience. Word travels fast around here. You had also heard gossip about her sleeping with people on missions, which was very plausible now that you thought about it. You didn’t want her to find you lacking in any way. You thought the wine would calm your nerves but you only felt yourself becoming more and more nervous.
As things got heated after a movie night you had both moved to your bedroom, making out with teeth and tongue like horny teenagers.
Nat must have felt you tense under her as she broke the kiss to cup your face. “What’s wrong chernub?” she gave you a smile that made your heart melt. Her eyes so sincere, with such pure love in them, all for you.
“I just... well have you ever been with a girl?” You still weren’t sure what the status of Nat’s sexuality was. You didn’t ever ask her because it didn’t matter. All that matter to you was that she liked you.
“I have. But never with anyone I was in love with” She said giving your lips a quick peck, smirking at your dumbfounded expression.
“I – I love you too” You gulp down taking a few deep breaths, that was unexpected “You caught me off guard” You smiled back at her, leaning into her touch “I’ve never been with anyone but Stevie”
“Then I’m happy to be your first” she purred palming your breasts through your dress. She pulled it up by the hem leaving you in your bra and panties. You almost felt self conscious as she eyed your cleavage hungrily, unhooking and tossing your bra away. She quickly took off her blouse and jeans. Even in her haste she was so elegant, her movements so smooth as her maroon lacy bra slipped off of her arms.
You couldn’t keep your eyes off of her breasts. They looked so smooth, her dark pink hard nubs perfectly complimented by her pale porcelain skin. You awkwardly held each in your palm, lifting them up as if to weigh them. They were just the right size and filled your hands perfectly. She let you explore her breasts, trace your fingers over her body, dipping them in her belly button, before she harshly pushed you onto your back, your head hitting the pillow.
“There’s no way I can be patientl with you” She said training quick butterfly kissing down your body.
“Wait! I want to go down on you” You requested. You had spent hours researching on how to please a woman. Even if you were nervous, you were excited to explore her body.
“That’s alright baby. I’m a giver” She winked at you. She stared at your pussy in awe, her lips so close to it that you felt her hot breaths against your warm folds. You propped yourself up on your elbows to look at her. You gasped loudly as you felt her lick a strip against it, wrapping her lips around your clit, harshly sucking on it. She wasn’t kidding when she said she wouldn’t be patient with you. You held onto the headboard trying your best to muffle your moans and screams.
You could feel yourself on the edge of it heaven. It was all too good. But then she stopped. You whined at the loss of what could’ve been an amazing orgasm. You looked down at her about to complain to do something to make her continue. You followed her gaze to your door and stared in horror at Steve standing there staring at Nat’s head buried in your pussy. What was more shocking was the very evident dent in Steve’s crotch, which almost looked painful.
You weren’t sure what you could say. Do you apologize? He gave you permission to date her. He never said anything about being intimate. You were about to explain, that it was spontaneous, that you weren’t thinking, you’d stop then and there if he asked you to.
But then “Would you like to join us?” Nat asked tracing your folds with her fingers. You shivered under her, being too sensitive and overwhelmed.
“Yeah I think I will” He said unbuckling his dark leather belt, his dress pants falling to his ankles. He stripped down to his underwear staring you down. “I’m going to have to punish you, after all” he took off his boxers his cock slapping against his abdomen.
“Wh – punish me?” You stammered panicking. Any other day you would act out purposely just so you could get punished. You loved this dark, unhinged side of him he only showed to you behind closed doors. How he bent you over his knee and make you count the smacks he delivered to your bum.
But right now, you were still mourning your ruined orgasm. You absolutely could not take any kind of edging, you have to come.
“He’s right” She smirked looking back at you.
“How do you wanna do this?” He asked Nat stroking his cock. Which did mildly infuriated you. They were ignoring you.
“I might have an idea” She pulled you up as Steve laid down on the bed. She guided him inside you as you straddled his hips and she crouched down with his thighs between her legs, drawing slow intricate circles on your clit.
You weren’t use to this position. Steve only ever liked making love while looking at you, he clearly wasn’t pleased with only being about to see your back. He grabbed at your hips angrily thrusting up into you. Where did your sweet innocent lover go? Seems like Natasha was a bad influence on you both.
You gasped into Nat’s mouth as you felt him filling you up. You vaguely heard her mockingly asking Steve to take it easy on you. You couldn’t think about that right now. All you could focus on was her fingers on your clit and Steve’s cock brushing up against your g-spot. It was all too good and too much.
“It’s all... It’s too much” You whimpered leaning away from Nat, pressing your palm on Steve’s stomach.
Steve abruptly stopped his thrusts “Are you alright princess” He petted he back of your head and smoothened your hair. You felt his back against yours as he got up wiping the sweat off of your forehead, pushing the hair that was sticking to it back. “You’re such a good girl. My sweet girl. ” He murmured as he kept whispering sweet nothings in your ear.
You calmed down as you tried to focus on your breathing. You didn’t know if you should be frustrated or relieved that they both just stopped. His hot and hard length was still buried deep inside you. You couldn’t take it anymore. You rolled your hips as his breath hitched.
Nat snorted “You have no idea how this game works, do you?” She pushed Steve back onto the bed instructing him to keep rutting up into you. You could do nothing but whimper.
Steve was a bit apprehensive. There was this one time he accidentally elbowed you in your ribs. He’s guilty about that to this day. He once told you his worst nightmare would be hurting you. That he wanted nothing else in this world but to make you happy and treat you like the princess you are. You smiled at the memory, he sure did have a way with words.
You cried as Nat rolled your clit between her fingers. She kissed the side of your mouth urging you to come. “Come on my fingers” She ordered.
Steve didn’t like that. He plunged up into you. You don’t think you have ever felt him this deep inside you. “Go ahead baby girl. Let go” He rasped. You could feel his muscles tightening beneath your palm. He wasn’t too far behind you.
You screamed in pure bliss as the coil building in your belly snapped, putting an end to your agony. You felt Steve’s grip on your hips stiffen as the pace of his thrusts escalated. “Fuck – shit” he cursed and groaned as you felt him come inside you.
You hugged Nat as you stayed like that for a while. His cock softening inside you. You clenched around him just for fun, which earned you a slap to your bum.
“Let’s get you cleaned up” Nat helped you up, Steve’s cock slipping out of you, you hissed at the empty feeling. His come oozed out of you. Steve hummed at the sight, playing with your folds before pushing his come back into you. You whimpered as you felt his fingers enter your overworked pussy.
“I’m sorry doll” He drawled out.
Nat carefully cleaned your thighs and your heat with a warm washcloth then tossed it to Steve. He cleaned himself up and asked if you wanted a bath.
“No I’m too tired” You murmured as you fell asleep sandwiched between them. It felt nice to be surrounded by soft comfortable warmth.
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It was quite easy for you to fall into a routine with your two lovers. You had been dating Nat for months now; if you could call it that. No one from the team suspected a thing. Both Steve and Nat, unlike you, were private people. They didn’t broadcast their private lives for everyone to see.
You also found that they were similar yet different in so many ways. Nat was more of a friend to you then Steve was, he was the man out of time after all. Nat liked the same movies and songs as you did. You could go shopping with her and go to concerts with her, share so many things together.
You also found that Steve was a lot more jealous and possessive than Nat. While Nat was grateful to be in your life and that she got to spend time with you. Steve often wanted monopoly over you. Nat would tease him about how your unorthodox relationship is a nice exercise for him to humble himself.
Which is why you were surprised when you found out just how dominant and controlling Nat could be in bed. She had to have things go her way. There wasn’t room to argue with her even Steve followed her orders, the few times he did join you both. He would say he likes to concentrate on pleasing you and doesn’t care too much about Nat interrupting his process. Nat was happy with just you or you and Steve.
It was strange to be with them both together. Mostly in a good way. They gave you such intense earth-shattering orgasms. You were afraid you were truly ruined for anyone else. When laying down boundaries you asked them to not kiss, but you were okay with them doing everything else. Steve did find it strange. How would you be okay with them being intimate and object to them kissing? Nat however understood why kisses somehow felt more intimate to you.
They both didn’t really want to do anything together. Steve was adamantly against it. Which was unsurprising to you. Sex was a big deal to him. He probably didn’t plan on doing it with anyone but you for the rest of his life.
They were both amazing kissers. But Steve did it much more often than Nat. He had no qualms about showing you just how much he loved you everyday. Nat sadly did. She was generally more distant. You tried your best to not take it personally, to let her move at her own pace. But you couldn’t help but want her to be closed to you, to tell you things she wouldn’t to anyone else, to trust you, she did claim you were the love of her life.
“Baby” you breathed out as you looked up at her. You were laying on her lap while scrolling through your Instagram. Steve had been gone for over a week on a mission. This could be the perfect moment. You did hear that communication is important in any relationship.
“What’s up?” She asked. You were always amazed at how smooth and sultry her voice was even when she was trying to be casual.
“Tell me a secret” You put your chin on top of your hands on her stomach. Batting your lashes at her, though that trick only works with Steve.
“What kind of secret?” She asked squinting at you, ltickling your armpit as your squirmed.
“Something you’ve never told anyone else” She hummed. You felt an ache in your heart at that. A part of her will always be beyond reach for you. You could never comprehend what she had been through, still you would like to at least try. “Well why don’t you just tell me what you want more than anything?”
“Some ice cream with whiskey sounds really good right now” she deadpanned.
You rolled your eyes at that. Sitting up straight to let her know you meant business. “No. I meant, if you could have anything what would it be?”
You waited several long minutes. She looked like she was contemplating what she wanted to say. “More than anything? I guess I’d want a family. I have one right now. But kids and a white picket fence sounds like a dream” She looked at your confused face, her eyes had never looked so empty and sad “I can’t, you know? They do a procedure which makes you sterile forever. But I’m happy right now. I don’t need that. I guess you only want what you can’t have” she shrugged. Moving into the kitchen to look for some ice cream.
You weren’t sure how you should react. There wasn’t anything you could do to better the situation. The fact that the procedure would most likely have been done with out her consent made your heart ache. “You know there are more than one way to become a parent”
She came back with two bowls of ice cream, handing one to you. “This job doesn’t really leave room for that kind of luxury. What about you? Do you and cap have plan on having kids? I’m sure he’d love to have the American Dream”
“Not really” You said looking at your melting ice cream. You had an inkling of a doubt till now but you could confirm it. She didn’t really consider herself part of your throuple. She didn’t see a future with you and Steve. She had always had one foot out the door. “I’ve never wanted kids. And Steve well... you know his job...” you mumbled playing the harsh edges of the sparking diamond on your engagement ring.
”There’s no point in thinking so ahead. Things are always changing” she said wistfully.
“Do you see a future with me? With me and Steve?” You hopefully looked up at her.
“What kind of future do you expect?” she asked in a tone that scared you, she hasn’t spoken to you like that since your first meeting.
“I don’t know. What we have now is perfect” You confessed.
“What we have now, is that you’re going to have your fairytale wedding to Steve” She rolled her eyes. You had never seen her be jealous of him. “And then who knows what happens to us. Let’s not do this. Things are good as they are” She declared in a tone that didn’t leave room for negotiation.
“No” you said firmly “I don’t want a casual relationship. There’s nothing casual about how I feel. You can’t just be like that. Like you’ll leave whenever you want!” you threw your hands up exasperated with her.
She furrowed her brows staring you down, as if that would intimidate you. “You have treated me like a sidepiece from the beginning. How many times have you brushed me off to spend time with Steve? How many people know about us?” She asked gesturing her hand between both of you. “You can’t have your cake and eat it too”
“I’ll tell everyone then. Whatever it takes to be with you” you pleaded. You weren’t ashamed to beg. It was clear to you now that you had always treated Nat as if she was less important than Steve. It wasn’t because you loved her less than him, it was because Steve had a tendency to be jealous and insecure. Apparently she was really good at hiding her feelings, better than Steve anyway.
“You can’t do that” She said flatly. “He’s captain America. We’re the Avengers. We have a reputation to maintain. We’re controversial enough. We don’t need any more scandals” She said shaking her head.
“Then we’ll figure something out” You hugged her side, seeking her comfort, you didn’t like the direction this conversation was heading in.
“No” She shook you off getting up from your sofa, placing her bowl on the coffee table. “this whole thing was a mistake from the start. I should’ve known better than do this with someone like you” She said as you looked at her with watery eyes and quivering lips “I’m sorry dove. We just want different things” She swiped your tears before averting her gaze and leaving.
You hugged your knees sobbing like you never had before. Your dream, your fantasy was ripped from you. One minute you felt as if you were on cloud nine, you had two wonderful people who cared so much for you, who loved you for you.
And now you were drowning, in your sorrow, in guilt and in pain. Knowing that you only caused them both pain. You failed to make them as happy as they made you. You didn’t deserve either of them.
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Steve was more than excited to see his girl after over two weeks. Before Nat he was always worried to leave you alone. He knew how much you liked having company around, how you would get lonely and lost in your intrusive thoughts and worry about him.
Initially it was hard to share you. Not being the love of your life, like you are to him, was disappointing to say the least. Then he saw just how happy Nat made you. He understood that just because you loved Nat, didn’t mean you loved him any less. He still had his moments of jealously here and there, but at times like these, he’s thankful for you both.
He punched in the code to your apartment, opening the door, expecting to run to you, hug you and cradle your soft form in his arms. But as soon as he step his foot in, he knew something was wrong.
He called out your name looking for you. He saw you laying on the sofa in a fetal position making yourself small, a blanket covering you, you were surrounded by chocolate wrappers and what looked like cheeto dust. He walked owards you, stepping on the wine spilt from your glass. He straightened the glass putting it away from the edge of the coffee table, crouching down to look at your face.
Tears left your eyes as soon as you saw him blocking the tv. You sat up hugging him, pushing your face into his chest. He could hear you little sniffles as he ran his fingers through your hair to sooth you. Your hair, which is usually silky and smells like vanilla, was greasy and smelt of chinese take out and wine. He could tell you hadn’t showered in a while.
After a while of holding you to him he cradled your face in his hands. “Hey” he said softly taking you in. You looked miserable. Your eyes and nose red, your face completely defeated. “What happened?”
“Nat broke up with me” you whimpered as if you couldn’t believe your own words. “Said she wanted kids and we’re not compatible. I don’t know” You whimpered again, so overwhelmed and exhausted.
“It's okay calm down” He never would’ve expected this. Though in hindsight he should've seen this coming. He deemed Nat worthy of you because she was passionate and loving. But she didn’t have the best romantic track record. That paired with your unusual situation, this was bound to happen. “It’s okay” He said again cuddling with you on the sofa. He whispered sweet nothings in your hair. He would’ve almost been glad if this had happened a few months ago. But now when he had come to slightly like the dynamic the three of you shared and seeing just how heartbroken you were. He wasn’t sure he could ever forgive Nat.
“You have me. You’ll always have me” He whispered in your hair and meant it. When he said he loved you for the first time, over a year ago, he had decided that you would be together forever, that he’ll be there for you, protect you no matter what. His love for you was unconditional and knew no bounds. It could survive anything.
“You promise?” You asked him shyly. Your voice so weak and trembling. He wished he could wrap you up and hide you from the whole world.
“Yes I promise” he kissed your forehead.
“You still love me?” You looked up at him with your sweet innocent eyes.
“I’ll always love you. Nothing will ever come between us” He swore holding onto you as you cried yourself to sleep. You’ll be okay, eventually. He knew that but it was hard to see you this broken.
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elizabeth-mitchells · 3 years ago
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Journeys end in lovers meeting - Sam/Deena - Bly Manor AU
Chapters: 4/? Fandom: Fear Street Trilogy (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Samantha "Sam" Fraser/Deena Johnson, Sarah Fier/Hannah Miller (Fear Street), Christine "Ziggy" Berman/Nick Goode, Samantha "Sam" Fraser & Deena Johnson Characters: Samantha "Sam" Fraser (Fear Street), Deena Johnson, Kate Schmidt (Fear Street), Simon Kalivoda, Josh Johnson (Fear Street), Constance (Fear Street Part 3: 1666), Christine "Ziggy" Berman, Nick Goode (Fear Street), Alice (Fear Street Part 2: 1978), Sarah Fier (Fear Street), Hannah Miller (Fear Street), Solomon Goode (Fear Street) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, The Haunting of Bly Manor AU, Not Canon Compliant, Haunted Houses, Ghosts, Character Death, Minor Character Death, Canon Lesbian Relationship, First Meetings, Fluff and Angst, Eventual Smut, Happy Ending, Au Pair Sam, Gardener Deena, Housekeeper Kate, Cook Simon, Josh and Constance as troubled kids, Ziggy and Nick in an unhealthy relationship, minor Cindy/Alice, Martin cameos, special appearances of all the Shadyside killers as ghosts, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, The Rest Is Confetti Summary: The year is 1994. Samantha Fraser recently moved to Shadyside, and she desperately needs a job that will help her leave her troubled past behind. She starts working as au pair at Shadyside Manor, where she is not the only one tortured by ghosts. Grief, regrets, guilt, innocent victims, and an ancient curse. At the center of all of it... love.
Chapter 4:
Sam really didn’t want to eavesdrop, but it was a hectic day for everyone but here. It was an accident, really. She just wanted a glass of water, but when she heard Deena and Kate arguing in the kitchen, she stopped before reaching the doorway, and couldn’t help but listen.
“Are you seriously not going?” Deena was saying.
“No, Deena,” Kate replied, in a tone that made it obvious it wasn’t the first time she said so. “I’ll only go to a funeral when I’m dead, thank you very much.”
“Maybe I should kill you then,” Deena grumbled. In the hallway, Sam fought back a smile at the grumpiness of the gardener. “He’s your platonic husband and you’re letting him down in the most fucking tragic day of his life, Kate.”
“He understands,” Kate snapped back at her. “Besides, we’ve let each other down before.”
--
Eavesdropping on teenagers feels even worse. But Sam can’t help herself, again. She just seems to be at the right place at the right time, and nobody hears her coming. She was just looking for Constance and Josh when she found them talking in the classroom in whispers. She worried they might have been planning something unwise, so she listened in for a moment.
“Do you think they can follow us?” Constance asked in a whisper.
“No, I don’t think it works like that,” Josh replied.
The girl hummed thoughtfully and then added, in a considerably more distressed tone, “Do you think they’ll try to stop us?”
“Shh! Constance!” Josh stopped her. “Let’s just… see what happens, okay? We’re in this together, right? All of us.”
Sam considered intervening, but for the life of her she couldn’t figure out what they were talking about. She could barely keep track of their changing moods or Constance’s name. In the end, she walked away, deciding to keep an eye out and studying them more closely when she had the chance.
--
Sam had tried her best, but she really had nothing else to do at the moment. It was strange, having a day mostly free from her responsibilities as au pair. Deena would be taking Josh and Constance with her to Simon’s mom’s funeral. A little lost in her thoughts without anything else to do while they all got ready, Sam took a seat near the bottom of the stairs, looking out at the gardens she could see through the open door. It started out as a particularly sunny day, not at all something you’d expect for a funeral.
The au pair was leaning against the railing of the stairs. A little behind her, under the safety and familiarity of the manor’s shadows, Harry Rooker stood perfectly still. His clothes hadn’t changed at all in all the decades he had been wandering those halls, even his bowtie was in still place. The same couldn’t be said about his face though. The passing of the years, one after another, had slowly washed away his features. His eyes were no longer there, his mouth was barely noticeable and his nose wouldn’t likely last long. The burn on the side of his face, which had hurt him so much during the war and cost him so much even after his return, was still there, stubbornly, almost mocking him. As well as his knife, always in his hand, always sharp. Never being useful anymore.
The sound of a heavy pair of boots coming down the stairs, as often, disturbed the peace of the foyer. Sam tried not to look too excited as she turned her head to look at Deena descend the stairs, but when she saw the gardener’s outfit she probably failed to hide her pleased reaction.
“Hi,” Sam gasped a little and stood up, “You look…”
“Like I remembered how to take a shower?” Deena smirked. She reached the bottom of the stairs and showed off her clothes, consisting of all black pants, shirt, and blazer that fit her perfectly, made her look a little too good for a funeral, if Sam had to give her honest opinion.
“Like a waiter,” Sam said, biting her lip to keep that honest opinion from spilling out.
“Hey! Didn’t know that side of you, Sunnyvale. Rude,” Deena replied, smiling the entire time. When her expression softened a little, she asked, “Are you sure you’re okay staying here by yourself?”
“Yes, t’s okay. Besides, Kate’s here too.”
Deena made an unamused sound. “Sometimes it feels like she isn’t,” she murmured.
“Yeah,” Sam agreed quietly. Before the silence could stretch for too long, she spoke up again. “Anyway, I, um, had to… be present in a funeral, not too long ago. It’s… I can’t, again. Not yet.”
As she spoke, Sam couldn’t look Deena in the eyes. Not when the only thing in her mind was Sunnyvale. Peter. Her mother. Peter. Twentyfive entitled children in a classroom. Peter. A heavy engagement ring and suffocating wedding dress. Peter.
But it didn’t start like that. It started with her father getting sick, her mother being cruel enough to divorce him on the spot to save herself from taking care of him, and Sam being already in Sunnyvale, thirty minutes away, when he finally died. It started with her mother wrapping her in her best dress, too old for her already, and dragging her to the neighbors house, because they were rich, and look at that handsome young boy, he already has his eyes on you! They were only eight. But then they were twelve, and Peter got in a fight for her and felt entitled to her attention ever since, and nobody ever told her she didn’t have to give him anything she didn’t want to. So when he demanded it, she gave him a kiss, a second date, the color of her prom dress so he could get a matching tie. She gave and she gave until she didn’t know what else he could take from her, but everyone made her feel like she still owed him. So she gave hiim a second chance when he first hit her, and she gave him her bags when he told her to move in with him, she gave him a third and fourth chance, and she gave him the answer he wanted when he offered her a wedding ring.
“Sam? Are you okay?”
In the blink of an eye, Sam was back in Shadyside Manor, with Deena’s gentle hands on her elbows, anchoring her to reality, and those warm brown eyes worriedly searching her face, not knowing what horrors they could find behind the walls Sam spent a lifetime building.
“Yes,” Sam blurted out. “Yes, I’m okay. I’m okay.”
“Right,” Deena nodded and slowly stepped away from the au pair. “Well, I’m leaving now. Try to come up with something real to tell me when I return, okay?”
Sam suddenly couldn’t come up with any words so she nodded, smiled, and watched holding her breath as Deena walked away from her, not without glancing over her shoulder by the door.
--
Sam stood awkwardly in the middle of the chapel. She had made it too far to turn around now, but she didn’t dare move closer and interrupt Kate who appeared to be praying. Except, before Sam made up her mind about her next move, Kate spoke up without turning around.
“Are you just going to stand there like a ghost?”
“Sorry,” Sam blushed. “Uh, how did you know I was-”
“I have eyes on the back of my head, darling,” Kate replied with a smile and finally turned around.
“Am I interrupting you?”
“No, it’s okay,” Kate softened. “I’m not a funeral type of person. I deal with loss in my own way.” 
“I get it,” Sam nodded. She found the courage to continue walking closer to the other woman.
“If you ask me,” Kate continued, somewhat unprompted, “This is more for our own comfort.” She nodded her head to the side, indicating the five red little candles burning. “You have to be there for people while they’re still alive. Simon gave his entire life for his mother. I’ve been there with him for most of the journey, in ways that I know count so much more than missing out on one tragic goodbye party.”
Again, Sam nodded. She took a seat down on one of the pews close to Kate. She really didn’t want to think about the funerals in her own life. Her mother made sure they arrived late and left early for Sam's father’s funeral. And then a few months ago…
“You two are very close,” she blurted out. It was a statement, a question, and mostly just a way to get Kate to keep talking.
“Best friends since childhood,” Kate said and she wore one of the most genuine smiles Sam had seen on her. “We kissed once, and afterward I punched him in the face. We’ve been inseparable ever since. Which might be the best and worst part about our friendship.”
“What do you mean?”
This time Kate took her time before replying. Her smile was gone.
“Ever since I can remember, I’ve wanted to leave Shadyside and see the world. But there was nothing that could have convinced Simon to leave his mom. He missed a chance to work at a restaurant in Paris, I missed my chance to see the world, but we have each other. We have each other and ninety-nine percent of the time it feels like the right choice.”
The remaining one percent of the time hung in the air of the chapel so heavily it was almost palpable.
“What about now?” Sam asked, not without a good amount of hesitation.
The meaning of her question was obvious. Simon wasn’t tethered to Shadyside anymore. However, there was no answer from the housekeeper. Kate chuckled sadly, completely dismissing the idea of grabbing a bag of her best clothes and her best friend’s hand and moving away to Paris any day now. Instead, she stood up and threw the little box of matches for Sam to catch.
“What?” Why?” The au pair looked back and forth between the matches and Kate.
“Light a candle,” Kate replied. She noticed the confusion in Sam’s face, but the au pair, unknowingly, carried her heart, broken and hopeful at once, on her sleeve. “Dead people, regrets, protection, good luck,” Kate said while methodically fixing the wrinkles on her red skirt, checking her ponytail, and mindlessly passing her hand over the back of her neck. “Everything counts.”
Sam stayed silent. She watched Kate walk out of the chapel and then she moved toward the candles. She moved almost automatically, lighting up the first match, but then she couldn’t bring herself to actually light the candle. The small flame burned bright for a second, highlighting the sadness in Sam’s blue eyes, but she let it die before reaching for a candle. }
Eventually, Sam decided to light up a new match and light up a single candle at random. Not for dead people, and not for her attempts at forgetting about them, but for the time she had wasted trying to please people that did nothing but hurt her for so long.
On the way out of the chapel, Sam made the mistake of glancing at the windows. Of course he was still there. He would never leave her, would he? She had seen him angry at her more times than she could count, but never like that. That expression of outstanding disgust and fury was forever etched in Sam’s memory of him. He was just a shadow, he was pure darkness in the shape of a man she once knew. But Sam had to look away and walk as fast as she could away from him, fearing that any day now his image would definitely leave the restrained space of reflective surfaces and finally kill her, like she had killed him.
--
“Dinner… is served!” Simon announced with a flourish.
Simon and Deena dropped several bags on the kitchen table and they chuckled when everyone else eagerly jumped forward to look at the contents spilling on the table. 
“There’s nothing like an absurd amount of junk food to fix all your problems,” he smiled proudly at the scene in front of him. All the people closest to him with smiles on their faces, exchanging a warm meal and easy conversation. His smile turned just nostalgic enough, thinking about his mother, the woman who taught him that lesson. She used to fix all problems with food. She had special meals for every sickness, mended broken hearts with each person’s favorite food, and she celebrated every occasion with big feasts. So far, Simon couldn’t say she had ever failed.
Simon, Deena, Kate, Sam, Josh, and Constance, sat down at the table. They got started with their junk food feast. Everything was still hot, smelled amazing, and tasted even better. Behind Simon and the teenagers, stood Ruby Lane. She tilted her head one side and the other, observing the scene in front of her. Her slightly blurred expression showed confusion, then a hint of sadness, and finally settled in something surprisingly close to affection. Eating. Food. Good company. Friends. She distantly could remember the feeling of it all. The details had left her a while ago. But if she focused hard enough on the smiles of these strangers, she almost felt right at home, almost felt like she belonged with them, almost let herself believe that if she wanted to she could reach out, take a seat, enjoy a meal with them… Almost, almost but not quite.
At the table, conversation flowed easily. Everyone was enjoying the food, and the adults all had one or two beers with the meals, perhaps a little more. Despite the emotionally heavy day, the group was in a surprisingly good mood. A consequence of growing up in Shadyside, maybe. They were either the best or the worst at coping with loss. The trick was not knowing how to tell the difference between both extremes. 
Sam was a little concerned about the fact that the pair of teenagers looked so refreshed and so much like themselves after attending a funeral. Maybe they just needed the time away from the manor. She just hoped it would last.
While all of them discussed favorite meals and comfort food, Simon finally explained his choice of food for the day. “This is actually from the first place where I worked,” he confessed.
“Really?” Sam asked, leaning forward with a kind smile.
“Yeah. My mom got me the job,” he added. “She was the sweetest woman, but she could be scary as shit if she wanted to. She convinced them to give a part-time job to little old me. I was barely fifteen.”
“Tell her why you got fired,” Kate said, raising a playful eyebrow in his direction.
Simon rolled his eyes and picked up a couple of fries to throw in her direction. “For giving you free food you asshole!”
While all the others laughed, Kate gasped loudly and wore a nearly comically offended expression for a moment. It was her turn to roll her eyes and lean across Deena to look at Sam and explain, “This bitch throwing me food like a toddler? He got fired for being too talented for a food truck, basically.”
“Ah, whatever,” Simon laughed. He ran a hand through his messy blonde hair and pushed through his unexpected shyness to explain. “The food was good, but it was also too slow and expensive. Got me fired but got me noticed.” He stopped then, and tried to make it seem natural and not at all like he was holding back information. Which made Sam think about the missed opportunity across the ocean that Kate had mentioned earlier that day. “But!” Simon went on, with extra cheerfulness on his voice to hide who knows how many things anymore, “now I get to happily cook for all of you, ungrateful little shits that you are.”
“Hey!” Deena protested, stopped a second to swallow her food and continued. “I am grateful. Dude, I love your food. I survived eating this cheap shit almost exclusively for like a decade. I’m in heaven when you cook actual food.”
“Do you just love me for my food?” Simon pouted dramatically. 
Sam watched them banter with a smile. Before she could stop herself, she was joining the conversation. “This actually reminds me of my childhood in Shadyside,” she said, holding up a burger in her hand.
“What?” Kate smirked, “You don’t have these bad boys in Sunnyvale?”
Sam laughed along with everyone else, she was starting to feel just the slightest bit tipsy, and this time decided not to mention the fact that Kate hadn’t even taken a bite of her burger yet. However, she hadn’t managed to shake herself from the weird, nostalgic mood that had had a hold of her the entire day. One moment she was there, seated at the kitchen table in Shadyside Manor, and with the blink of an eye, she was back at an expensive Sunnyvale restaurant.
She had been more than a little tipsy back then, she had needed the courage in any way she could find it. During the meal, a hundred different memories of her mother’s cruel comments on her weight and eating habits passed through her mind. She didn’t push them away though, she focused on them, because it hadn’t been just her mother, and she needed to focus on that pain and resentment. Because seated across from her was Peter. Peter, who had joined her mother in criticizing her. Peter, who never once defended her from his own mother. Peter, who had hurt her emotionally and physically more than anybody else.
Peter, who refused to lose an argument, who didn’t know when to let it go, and would never let her go. They didn’t get to the altar, but since their first kiss, he had assumed only death would take her away from him. He didn’t consider he’d go first, he might have even dreamed of a second or third wife, and one or two times he had been close to being responsible for that sudden end. Instead, it was their anniversary, they were both drunk, Sam admitted more than she had meant to, he was yelling at her in the middle of the street, threatening to kill her, taking a step backward when she reached for him, and then there were the truck’s headlights…
“Oh, yeah,” Sam blurted out, and hoped they wouldn’t notice the way her voice was trembling. “But in Sunnyvale, we add a little caviar on top of the burgers.”
Sam was surprised to see everyone laugh at what she had considered a pretty lame joke. It was a beautiful sound. She didn’t think she’d ever been surrounded by the incredible number of five people that genuinely liked her for who she really was. Josh even choked a little on the food he had been chewing, and Simon slapped his back, maybe a little harder than necessary. It made Kate and Constance laugh even harder. Those were things that Sam noticed, but her focus was actually on the woman beside her. Deena had laughed with all of them, of course. But the soft smile she was directing at Sam was something completely different, something she couldn’t even compare to anything else she had ever experienced. 
When the conversation hit an inevitable lull, Constance was the first one to notice the way Simon’s mood dimmed, his shoulders slumped and he stopped eating, just fumbling with the papers on the table. There was a lot a person could say to a friend that just lost their mother, then there was what a moody teenager with an exceptionally tragic life could offer.
“My aunt was a shit cook,” Constance blurted out. “These burgers were all she got for me when my parents died. But I couldn’t eat it… I thought I would never eat again, which would be okay because that would kill me and I’d be reunited with…” She shrugged, and everyone else at the table listened to her intently, rendered speechless not just by the unexpected confession, but because of her expression, neutral without being insensitive, sincere without being very emotional. “But then,” Constance continued, adding the smallest smiles here and there. “It was like I could hear my mom yelling at me for not eating. Cindy Berman could be a pain in the ass in case you didn’t know. But that feeling… it was like she was right there with me, beautiful and annoying and never gone entirely.”
For a moment, nobody knew what to say. Simon, although his eyes were glassy, smiled brightly at her. “You do not act as if you’re listening to your mom,” he said.
“Hey! I ignored her when she was alive too, she gets it,” Constance rolled her eyes playfully. “But the point is I know that we have to keep eating, and keep living… for them. Don’t we?”
“Yeah, we do,” Simon agreed.
He took a deep breath to get a hold of his emotions and raised his beer bottle to the center of the table, where Kate, Deena, and Sam joined him in a toast for the living. Constance joined in enthusiastically with a can of soda, but Josh didn’t move a muscle.
“Hey, do we have some more beer?” Josh asked a moment later. “I could really use one.”
“Uh, no. Not at fifteen you can’t,” Deena replied immediately. She tensed on her seat.
The teenage boy rolled his eyes and focused on the au pair across the table from him. “Miss Fraser, do you think I could have a beer?” He asked with a sharp, charming smile that looked just a little off on the edges.
“I… agree with your sister, Josh,” Sam replied carefully. She didn’t want to cross any boundaries, but she was also responsible for the teenagers.
“Do you have any idea how long I’ve gone without a real drink?!”
“I remember my first beer,” Kate interrupted him, reminiscing with an easy smile on her face. “It was my first time babysitting Constance, and then Christine thought it would be a good idea to give me a beer.”
“My mom hated beer,” Sam said. “She used to say one sip could mean I’ll end up in hell.” Then she took a hearty sip, thinking of her mother and the thousand suffocating rules she’d pressed upon Sam’s shoulders her entire life.
“Well,” Deena smirked, “You did end up in Shadyside so…”
While most of them laughed, Josh’s face contorted into an expression of deep frustration and rage until he didn’t look like himself anymore. “Why the hell am I being controlled by a bunch of dykes?!” He slammed his hand on the table furiously. 
But just as soon as the words left his mouth, Sam and Deena jumped out of their chairs. Deena was his sister, and maybe Sam was just the au pair, but while Deena was so angry that she couldn’t even get any words out, Sam got ahead of her.
“That language, and that attitude, and beyond unacceptable, Josh. You are going to your room right now. No discussion. Did you hear me?” Sam said, her voice firm, unwavering, and her stance perfectly commanding.
All eyes were on her, but she was staring straight at Josh. He didn’t budge, he was stronger than most teenagers Sam had ever worked with, but she was even stronger. She didn’t hesitate at all. She glanced quickly at Constance, and the girl, despite intensely rolling her eyes, stood up and walked toward Josh. She not-so-gently grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the chair. Slowly, and with Josh throwing threatening looks at Sam over his shoulder, they walked out of the kitchen. After excusing herself, Sam followed them. She didn’t look back to see the impressed looks her friends were exchanging, pleasantly surprised by that side of her.
--
“Hey, Sunnyvale,” Deena said as soon as she caught sight of Sam walking down the stairs of the manor to the foyer where she was waiting for her.
Sam reached the end of the stairs and noticed that Deena was wearing a jacket, and holding Sam’s own jacket in her hands. But when the au pair reached out to grab it, Deena pulled back.
“Ah, ah. Not yet,” Deena said. She was smiling, but there was a hint of worry in her eyes. “You only get warmth in exchange for information.” Her words made the au pair chuckle, and Deena instantly felt herself relax a little. “How did it go with my asshole brother?” She finally asked.
“Um, it was fine, I think,” Sam replied. “He… Well, I think he’s embarrassed. He probably regrets it a lot. He’s acting almost as if he doesn’t even remember what he said.”
“That doesn’t make it better,” Deena frowned. She felt pretty embarrassed about the entire incident, and she was so not looking forward to having that conversation with Josh, who apparently had turned into some kind of monster in the place of her sweet younger brother. “I’m sorry about it.”
Sam shrugged and attempted a smile. “If it helps, I think he really listened when I explained that we all just want what’s best for him, and having that makes him luckier than most of us.”
The gardener nodded thoughtfully. “I agree with you there,” she said as she held open Sam’s jacket to help her put it on. Deena was careful, and her hands were confident, but at the same time, she barely touched Sam’s body as she helped her. The only thing she couldn’t help herself from doing was standing perhaps a little closer than necessary. Enough to feel her heart skip a beat when Sam’s blonde hair brushed her cheek, and the smell of some sweet-scented shampoo filled her senses. “But also, how depressing is that for us?” Deena said, stepping back from Sam. The au pair laughed and turned around to stare a Deena, who offered her a hand and said, “Come on, let’s go be depressing outside for a change.”
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