#maybe venom just wants to spend time with the baby while he's driving the body???

[sabeedraws]

idk how to draw venom and I didn't wanna learn rn, ok. I just wanted to doodle him running around with the baby

[plaidbooks]

Love your work! Can you please do one where Sonny and the reader get into a huge fight. Maybe the reader’s last relationship was abusive and something about the fight scares the reader or causes a flashback. Maybe the reader panics and tries to get away from Sonny or locks herself in a different room? Sorry this is so long, but I love your work and live for a good hurt/comfort/angst fic! 🖤🖤

Past Mistakes

A/N: Hey anon! First off, thank you! Second, I hope I did this justice; it’s a little short, but I may do a part two...we’ll see if anyone wants one lol. Also, I love a good hurt/comfort fic!

Tags: mentions of domestic violence/flashbacks

Words: 1k+

Taglist: @the-baby-bookworm @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @stardust-fray @permanentlydizzy @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba @reading--mermaid

You glanced at your phone for what seemed like the thousandth time, angrily shoving it back into your clutch when you saw no new messages. You finished your glass of wine and waved the waiter over, asking for your bill. It wouldn’t be much; all you had was three glasses of wine while waiting for your boyfriend to show up. But seeing as how he was supposed to be here an hour and a half ago, you were pretty sure he wasn’t showing. It wasn’t the first time Sonny cancelled date night because of work, but this was the first time he didn’t call or text, didn’t let you know in some way. Your cheeks burned as you hurried out of the fancy restaurant, everyone’s eyes on you as you fled in embarrassment.

He didn’t come home for another three hours, almost midnight. You were still in your fancy dress, too pissed off to change out of it, wanting him to see you in it, to see what he had missed.

When he saw you standing in the kitchen, his eyes scanning up and down your body, his face falling, you felt a sick delight in making him feel bad. “Was…was date night tonight?” Sonny asked, mumbling.

“Well, it was supposed to be. Instead, it was more me sitting alone in a fancy restaurant while everyone laughed at me because my boyfriend stood me up,” you retorted, your voice venomous.

“I-I’m sorry; I forgot. We had a case come in and—”

“I don’t care, Dominick!” you yelled. “I’m so sick and tired of work coming first! We hardly spend time together. I never see you anymore! Between this and your classes, it’s like we’re not even dating!” You didn’t know where this anger was coming from, but it was bubbling up inside you, lashing out.

Sonny looked hurt, and he went on the defensive, his voice starting to raise. “Hey, you knew when this started that I’d be working a lot, that I had night classes on top of everything else. You know my job; you know work has to come first!”

You scoffed. “I knew you’d be busy, but this is ridiculous! When was the last time we had dinner together, hm? Or just sat and talked?”

He ran a hand over his face. “I’ve been busy! I’m sorry if you’ve been feeling lonely, but it hasn’t exactly been a picnic for me, either!” As his anger took over, Sonny started gesturing wildly, his arms flinging out around him. When he threw his arms in the air above his head, you froze. It didn’t take a detective’s training for Sonny to see how you flinched, how your eyes glazed over, staring right through him. In your mind’s eye, you were standing in your old kitchen, your ex standing in front of you, his arms raised. You didn’t even feel the tears in your eyes or trailing down your cheeks.

“[Y/N]?” Sonny asked, voice barely above a whisper. He reached out for you, but you turned and bolted. He stood there, dumbfounded at your reaction, only snapping out of it when he heard a door slam shut.

You locked the bathroom door, leaning your back against it and sinking down to the floor. You pulled your knees to your chest, burying your face against them, sobbing uncontrollably. You felt your body violently shaking, but you couldn’t stop it, couldn’t control it. You heard footsteps on the other side of the door, a soft knock.

“[Y/N], are you okay?” a voice asked, the doorknob jiggling. You cried harder, curling tighter into yourself. The voice sounded suspiciously like your ex, and you briefly wondered if he’d try to break the door down.

Sonny sighed, running a hand through his hair. He’d seen that look before on many victim’s faces. But he didn’t want to assume anything; he’d wait for you to tell him…if you wanted to, that is. He leaned against the door, slumping down until he sat on the floor, one leg bent, the other straight out.

“If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine. But we still need to talk…and I still need to apologize to your face,” he said, loud enough for you to hear through the door. “I’ll wait here until you’re ready.”

He was exhausted; work was long today—technically yesterday. It was already nearing 1am, and Olivia was only letting him sleep in until 8am before he had to be up and back at work. But after a half hour with no noises outside of your soft sobs coming from the bathroom, he texted Amaro, asking him to cover his shift, telling him a family emergency came up. Sonny would wait as long as necessary for you, even if that meant no sleep tonight.

Finally, after another 45 minutes, Sonny heard the bathroom door unlock. He scrambled out of the way before you opened the door, your eyes red-rimmed, still trembling slightly. But he felt the slightest bit of relief when he saw the clarity in your eyes as they locked to his.

“Sonny…” you murmured. “I’m sorry—”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, doll,” he said, cutting you off. He moved to hug you but saw you flinch, and he winced, silently calling himself an idiot. He knew better. “I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have yelled like that…. Do you…do you wanna talk about it?”

You sniffled. “I-it’s nothing, really.” You waved your hand, moving on, “besides, I shouldn’t have lit into you like that. I know you’ve been busy; I’m…I’m not actually mad at you. I was annoyed because of dinner, and I said things I didn’t mean.”

Sonny looked at you, his eyes appraising you, scanning your face. “It’s not nothing, doll. I can see it all over your face…something happened.”

You vaguely wondered if this is how he talked to victims in his job, how he pushed for information. You cleared your throat. “M-my ex…,” you sighed. “When we would argue, he normally ended it with his…f-fists,” you sniffled again, and Sonny’s heart sunk.

“Did you ever report it?” he asked, starting to feel himself tremble with anger.

You scoffed. “Yeah, sure. But he was a trust-fund baby; the local precinct didn’t do anything. I got a restraining order, but that didn’t stop him from driving by my place. That’s why I moved here to the city from Jersey.”

“What’s his name?” Sonny asked, voice dangerously low.

“It’s not worth it, Sonny. This was years ago; I don’t know if he even still lives there,” you reasoned.

“Yeah, but if he hit you, I bet you’re not the only one. Guys like him, they’ll continue doing that to anyone they’re with. I wanna put the bastard away…not to mention break his nose,” he added, and your lips twitched upwards. Sonny took a breath, his face softening as he looked at you. “But tonight, I wanna spend reconnecting with you. I took tomorrow off, so we can spend all day together, talking, listening, and doing whatever else you want.”

This made you smile for real, which then turned into a yawn. After all the tears you shed, you were exhausted, and from the look on Sonny’s face, he was, too. “I’d love to, Son. But right now, let’s go to sleep.”

“Right behind ya, sweetheart.”

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 12

Click here if you are a first time reader.

Summary / TWs: Steve Rogers does not pass the vibe check yet again, le sad face. Loki is a good bro. Bruce fluff but what else is new? Literally everyone is a good bro, yo. Reader has best people. Tony's in there, kind of. Parents still suck.

For taglist: please send an ask if you changed your @! I noticed several people are unavailable :(

As always, my baby gay @miscmarvelwritings is the bestest beta!

"I think I am going to murder your father." Bucky's angry statement didn't surprise me. Neither did Steve's initial reaction, or anybody else's mostly pitying looks.

Bruce, my Bwucie, was calm and dejected. That worried me. I expected him to be at least a little bit green around the edges when Steve forcefully sat me down and made me explain the drunken, drugged stunt I'd done the night before, but alas, it seemed like Jolly Green was just sad. Or disappointed. And I didn't know which was worse.

The more I thought about it, the more defensive and abrasive I became. "And you'll kill yourself trying, he'll drive you fucking nuts" I responded to Barnes. "Honestly, I don't fucking see the problem here. My dad shows up five times a year at best. It's been like that forever. And it's not like I'm some kind of junkie," I defended myself, and my dad, because I really didn't see the huge deal about it. Relaxing once in a while doesn’t hurt anyone.

"It's not right!" Steve exclaimed, loosely banging a fist on the table. The self-righteous prick, seemed like he wanted to pick a fight just for the sake of it.

"And who are you, exactly, to say that? The moral police?" I blew up, standing and turning to the blonde man, hands on my hips. "Or you've decided to be my parent without asking me first? Keep your hopes up and maybe a fuck will magically appear, so I could give it to you."

He stood up in turn, getting uncomfortably close to my face. I was suddenly reminded of the fact that he was a very large, very strong man. "We want what's best for you! Can't you see it?" Rogers was getting red in the face, crossed arms, staring at me down like I was dirt under his shoes.

"How about..." I seethed, having to stop mid-sentence to swallow the scream that wanted to erupt. "How about... You FUCKING ask me what I want?"

"I suggest the Captain leave to go calm down," Loki suddenly piped up. He stayed silent throughout the whole conversation, picking at his food instead. Only after his sharply uttered words I noticed he had stood up. His hand hovered over my shoulder, body discreetly wedging between me and the Captain.

I heard Steve growl before he stormed off, throwing an annoyed look at Loki. A pregnant silence hung in the room. The longer it lasted, the more I wanted to crawl out of my skin, suddenly hyper aware of all these people - strangers, save a few - debating on what to do with me. Like I wasn't a person. Like...

"Ugh, fucking hell," I growled, beelining for my bag. I had definitely overstayed my welcome.

"Where are you going?" Bruce asked, standing up to follow.

"Home," I replied curtly, nodding my thanks to Loki for the intervention. He nodded back, walking off. I would have probably started swinging at the Icicle Dick if not for the raven haired Asgardian's timely interruption.

"I'll drive you," Banner trotted after me like a dejected puppy. I didn't have the mental capacity to deal with this, at all.

"I need to see Tony first. Meet you downstairs?"

Bruce nodded, looking even more confused.

Tony kissed me hungrily, in between promises to kill Steve and cancel my dad and get me my own apartment in the tower. Believing in fairy tales wasn't something I was ever prone to; I smiled, nodded along and did my best to shut him up with my own mouth on his. I left with the promise to text him as soon as I got home.

"How are you?" Bruce asked me as we once again drove through the busy city. This was becoming a nice habit but we really had to meet up when I wasn't going through another one of my turmoils.

"All things considered, I am great. Better than I've been in a while." I answered honestly, meaning it. However brief Tony's attention would be, it still satisfied me. Then and there I decided to always, always cherish what happened during my brief stint in his arms.

"Really?" Banner's warm smile was an unexpected but pleasant surprise. "Care to share?"

It threw me for a loop. I didn't know how much Tony wanted to disclose regarding what happened between us. I didn't know the extent of his friendship with Bruce. I didn't know...

"Tony," I choose the usual option. Admit what you can't deny, deny what you can't admit.

"I know the feeling," The good doctor chuckled, companionable-like and meaningful. "He tends to go all the way for the people he cares about. Too much, if you ask me."

"What do you mean?" I was confused. Sure, me and Tony were friends. But not, like, super close or anything. We'd fucked, or more like messed around, so I expected our friendship to grow colder. That's what happened when friends decided to bump uglies.

"I mean... He'll move mountains and challenge the government and bully them into dropping charges against you," There was a hint of sadness in Brucie's voice. I vaguely recalled seeing something on the news, something about the Hulk and a massive destruction spree. It didn't take long to put two and two together.

I reached out, putting a hand on his knee. He covered my palm with his own, giving it a brief, warm squeeze.

"It must be great having a friend like that. You're both wonderful and brilliant. You deserve no less," The smile threatened to split my face in two.

Bruce returned the smile but the sadness didn't go away. "You realize that extends to you, right?"

"Me? I'm just me, Bruce." I wasn't sure where this was going. "I'm Peter's classmate and the resident hot mess express."

Bruce frowned, deep and long, up until he parked. Life seemed to be taking back all the happiness it gave me previously-in fucking buckets. The strap of my bag was going to get its threads pulled out with the way I was fiddling with it.

"Baby… Princess?" The scientist turned to me, tone torn somewhere between stern and pleading. "Listen to me. You are brilliant. Incredibly smart, talented and beautiful. Don't ever, ever think of yourself as less than any of us." I gaped at him.

Did he mean us as the Avengers? Us as Tony and Bruce? Meanwhile he continued, "In fact, I think you are the one who deserves so much better. I don't know what Tony found in me… Or what you found in me."

Was the man an idiot or yes? That was the question of the day. Cursing Tony's affinity for small cars (bless me and my own SUV), I only hesitated a moment before grabbing the dumb Banner by his face and startling him into looking straight in my eye. "If you don't quit talking all that fake-ass bullshit, I will kiss you. On the mouth. With tongue."

"Uh," Was his articulate response. I watched him squirm, blush and lose the heat to his argument.

"Exactly. I've had it all with you idiots today. Next time someone says some stupid ass fucking thing, I will kiss them. On the mouth, with tongue. Pass it on," I exhaled, releasing his face and dropping my head onto his shoulder.

"Some way of solving conflict you have," Banner chuckled weakly, throwing an arm around my shoulders. "I'd like to see Steve's reaction."

"A boner, probably, because he needs to get laid before he spontaneously combusts," I grumbled venomously, still bitter about his reaction. The Capsicle needed to chill. Hehe.

"I'll pass it on too," Bruce remarked wryly. "See you next week?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Bwucie, you're the fucking best," I kissed the scientist on the cheek, giving him a tighter than usual parting hug and walking up the pathway. Home.

Mother was nowhere to be seen - and the obvious reason for that laid on the kitchen floor. Couple of smashed dishes, a bottle of whiskey laying half-empty in a puddle on the grey tiles. The living room rug bore more stains and the smell of alcohol, bitter and acrid (like my soul, hardy har), hung heavily throughout the whole house.

At least I wasn't the only one who fought for myself that day. Mother probably had landed a good one on dad, too, by God the woman could be ruthless with her icy words. Dad never stood a chance. I've felt begrudgingly respectful of the way mother put people in their place with her words ever since I understood sarcasm.

First things first, I cleaned up the mess and opened the windows a smidge, cranking the air recuperation system to the max. Hanging around a place that smelled like a bum on a good Friday night was a horrible way to spend free time. Having successfully cut myself and bandaged the cuts up, I retreated to my room, not wanting to spend more time than necessary in the quiet, stinky, creepy house that my home had become.

My phone was long dead so I plugged it in, waiting for the 2% to appear, turning it on. A few messages from Peter, first cheerful, then worried and then relieved. Tony must've placated the spider child and told him I was staying at the tower. Good call, Tones, or else poor Peter would've worked himself into an anxiety attack and crashed in a dumpster while patrolling. Or something. I still didn't quite get his spider-hero side-gig.

A text from Bruce - rather, a photo, of a disgruntled Steve with his eyebrows raised, titled "I told him the next time he freaks out, you will kiss him. With tongue. Barnes cackled for about ten minutes until he ran out of air."

And a text from Tony. My chest tightened when I opened it. "Good tactics. Sneaky, clever, I'd give it a B+."

I snorted. Then the phone beeped again and I froze. A text ordering me to be ready tomorrow, for a date night? Unreal. I was torn. A part of me was elated, thinking Tony wanted to keep me around like that. The other, more sensible part, was firmly telling me to chill TF down. He'll most likely kindly reject any further intimate interactions, maybe have me sign a few NDAs.

I still answered positive, mushy and cute and all. Feelings aside, I wasn't about to change my texting style for any man. My God, I was turning into a monster. A horribly cheesy, pink, soft, fluffy monster.

The next day, school was nearly unbearable. People talked. Not to my face, of course, since the rumours of me putting away Flash Thompson were still fresh enough for everyone to be cautious around me, but the whispers followed me throughout hallways, tongue in cheek remarks thrown at me from the bathroom stalls, behind the teacher's desks. Did I care? Nope.

Okay, I did, but not in the way one would think. The little spring in my step, a slight smirk. My thoughts were occupied with my upcoming dinner with Tony.

Peter and his pet nerds stood at my side, the ever watchful guards. I had no idea why they decided I needed reassurance or their comfort (I did not), but I had to admit it was cute. MJ, in particular, glared her Death Ray Stare at any male-identifying student that dared to as much as look wrongly in my direction. I mostly ignored the trio. Pete himself did a great job with entertaining his friends, he babbled on as usual, about everything and nothing in particular. Mouth ulcers. He was going to get them one day.

Dad called me during third period, saying he was flying off to California. I would have been lying if I said I didn't know why he scheduled the sudden trip; mother's total radio silence and the absence of her laptop in her own office spoke volumes about the state of my family's affairs. They had a fight and ran off to the opposite ends of the continent. I didn't understand why mother was upset with me, though. I saved her face during dinner at Tony's, so why is she mad about me going to a party with dad? Baffling woman.

Admitting the house felt like home when either of them were absent was hard. Or, perhaps, I felt nothing at all. Spending so much time around the Brady Bunch- the Avengers made me too soft for my own liking. It wasn't just Tony that lived in mind rent-free all the time now; there was Bruce, with his kindness, Bucky with his overgrown teenager attitude, Wanda with her wit and hair that smelled like cheap shampoo - seriously, I absolutely had to show her the benefits of decent hair products. That was just to list the few little quirks. There were so many people, all of them different and wonderful in their own way.

To summarize it, I was both happy for them and bitter for not having any of that to myself. Although it made me kind of glad I didn't have a sibling - looking after someone in the mess that mother and dad created would've been a nightmare. They say it's always a better place where we are not.

I went through a whole pack of cigarettes in a span of a couple of hours. Plagued by strangely melancholic thoughts, trying to push down the anxiety over my upcoming date, my choice of outfit proved to be a cumbersome task while in process.

Expensive but simple dress with spaghetti straps, in my favourite colour. That was the easiest part. A good base for any accessories. Would Tony like it? Would the press make outrageous comments?

Either way, it would. Dad's comments cut deeper than I probably realized it until now; in a sudden bout of self-awareness and a couple of mouse clicks later... Tony wouldn't care. Tony wears suits with sneakers. The Manolos flew back, towards my shoe closet, and a pair of Chanel trainers made their debut. A Hermes 2002 barely weighed down by my wallet, keys and phone. A nice coat, too, appropriately light and so very conceptual and fashionable.

I spent way too much time deciding on what to wear. A stern talking to, however, didn't help me, and I had to redo my make-up - the "nude", "all natural" look was one of the hardest to nail. Or so Marie Claire said. Whatever, my highlighter game was, as usual, on point.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @sleep-i-ness @gigglyfox01 @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway (it finally let me tag you)!

[starrynite7114]

snapshots: the talk

A/N: It’s the end of the week right? Almost the end of the week at least! I hit a roadblock last night while I was writing, but then it was lifted and here we are now with another update. This update is a bit long. It was going to be longer, but I cut it in half, so the next update should be up by the end of the weekend. Hope you all had a lovely week!

Enjoy the update!

My lovely anon, hope your test went well!

Tag List: @iambabyharry​ ; @thegirlwhowritesfics​

Masterlist

It’s been two weeks since you and Angel spoke. You were still in Flagstaff and Angel was back in Santo Padre. After how you two ended things before he left, you were certain you wouldn’t see Angel for some time. 

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

“I’m not going back to Santo Padre, well California.” You stepped back, sitting by the dinner table. “Please don’t come any closer.” It was difficult for you to not run into Angel’s arms and hug him. You missed him. He was like an addiction that you were trying so hard to break. It was as if you were a heroin addict who was around heroin for the first time in 4 months. He was your drug and it was so hard to break the habit, that’s why you had to move away. 

Angel was wounded that you wanted to keep the distance between you two, but he respected your request. He sat in the armchair by your couch, keeping the distance. “Why’d you leave?”

“Did you read the letter?” 

“Are you fucking kidding me? That letter didn’t provide any fucking answers. It just pised me off.” Angel took out the letter from his kutte, throwing it on the coffee table. “How can you think so low of me? You honestly think that I would tell you I love you just so you would stay beside me?”

“I don’t think lowly of you, it just made sense Angel. You never love me the way I love you, it was a fluke. You and Adelita were going through some misunderstanding and I’m sure while we were together, you worked it out.” You sighed. “I just happened to be at the right place at the right time, you just turned to the person that’s always been there since the beginning.”

Adelita? How the fuck did Angel not think of that before?

He cussed under his breath, running his hand over his face.

“Yes, I know, I caught you.” You told him. “If you wanted to go back to her, all you had to do was tell me, I would never tie you down to me if you were just going to cheat on me.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?!” Angel was furious. How could you think he would cheat on you with Adelita? He made it very clear to you that it was done, he no longer had feelings for her. With everything that occurred, he wasn’t sure if he could trust Adelita. While he admired her strength, whatever he thought he felt for her failed to compare to how he felt for you. He almost lost you to Jake, he couldn’t have that happen. “Cheat on you? Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“Out of my mind? I saw you with her! She’s pregnant and I’m fucking sure you’re the father. Who the fuck else would with it be?” You retorted with the same anger Angel had. 

“Well it ain’t fucking me,” Angel stood up and he began to pace to try and calm himself. “You left me because you assumed that she was pregnant with my child instead of talking to me. I know you have your insecurities, but I thought you trusted me more than that.” 

“I do, I was at an impasse and I just made up my mind that I was leaving.”

“How long did you plan this?”

“A month.”

Angel’s eyes closed. The fact that this was premeditated made it even worse. That whole month you two were together, you didn’t even seem different. Everything was great. You two had spoken about moving in together, getting rid of your apartment in San Diego. While being together on the weekends were great, Angel wanted you home full time. He convinced you to finally get a house and he did get it, after this whole bullshit with the Vato’s, he was going to show you the place that he decided for you two. It was a fixer upper, but he knew you were super into those HGTV shows where they fixed the place up. He didn’t mind either, it would be nice to be able to mold a home to something you two created. 

Then you vanished. 

It was one of the many reasons he was so confused. If you were upset at him, you would usually make it known to him. But nothing. 

Everything was fine.

Or so he thought. 

“You’re my world, how can you think I would do that to you?” Angel’s voice slightly cracked then.

This was heartbreaking.

You watched as Angel sat back down, holding his head in his hands. You fought the urge to run to him and wrap your arms around him. Maybe you did assume, but you know what you saw. 

“I just want you to be happy Angel.”

“And I was,” Angel looked up then, tears in his eyes. “I was happy with you. Then you took that away from me.”

“Angel, why didn’t you go back to her? I thought this was what you wanted. You looked so happy while you held her belly,” you bit your lip, that picture haunted you. “I’m your best friend first Angel, you should have just told me.”

“You’re going to drive me insane, it’s like talking to a wall. Are you even hearing anything I’m saying to you?” Angel wasn’t sure how he was going to convince you that there was nothing between himself and Adelita. If he had to call Adelita herself, he fucking would. 

“Of course I am, look, I’m telling you, no hard feelings. But I just need time to get over you, once I do, we can become friends again.” You knew that wasn’t possible, but if you believed it, maybe it could happen.

“And who's going to help you get over me? Gabriel?” He said Gabriel’s name with such venom, you flinched. “Over my dead fucking body.”

“Angel!”

“What?! Look, I don’t know what I have to do for you to believe me, but I would never cheat on you. I meant it when I told you the ship has sailed, that wasn’t a fucking lie. Baby, please, don’t do this,” Angel closed the distance between you two, kneeling in front of you. “I can’t live without you, I don’t know how.”

You removed his hands that took a hold of yours, trying to move away, but you really had no other place to move since Angel boxed you in. You knew he wasn’t going to let you move till you at least had some resolution.

“Just be happy with her, I can’t give you what you want.” You tried to stand up, but Angel’s hands rested on your knees. 

“How can you not give me what I want? I just want you.” Angel looked up at you, cupping your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “In your letter you said to be with the person I truly want to be with, that’s you, there’s no one else. Please, I will spend the rest of my life proving that to you, I’ll do it, just please come back to me.”

“I can’t, Angel, you won’t be happy with me. Believe me, you’re going to have a child with Adelita, or anyone else really. You can’t have that with me.”

“You’re not ready? That’s fine, I can wait,” Angel was willing to compromise with you about anything. All he wanted was for you to stay, why was that idea so difficult for you to understand.

“No,” you held back a sob as your tears came out faster. “I,” you looked at him. “I can’t have kids Angel.”

“What?”

“I can’t have kids.” You repeated your words to him and he stood up, moving away from you as if you just burned him. That was the reaction you feared, but you were glad that it finally got through to him.

“At all?”

“Not at all,” you smiled bitterly as you wiped your tears. “You should be with someone who could give you children, not someone like me. That’s why I left you, I couldn’t compete with that. You were having a child with someone you love so dearly before you had some sort of enlightenment that you were in love with me. I wouldn’t be able to live with the fact that I could never give you children, so I removed myself from the equation so you can be a father to your child and maybe a husband as well to her.”

Angel looked at you, despair written all over his face. He finally understood and you were thankful.

Looking at you one last time, Angel walked out of your apartment. 

You stood up, locking the door behind him, sliding down the door and crying as you pulled your knees towards your chest, holding it against it. This was it.

The final chapter of your life with Angel was closing. 

Maybe one day you two could be friends again, but not now, not when the wound was so fresh.

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

After the day, Gabriel informed you that Angel had to go back to Santo Padre due to some emergency. You didn’t ask any questions and just simply nodded your head. For some reason, you were happy you two talked it out. All things that needed to be said were said and there was nothing left. You felt as if a weight on your shoulder was lifted. Your heart broke all over again, but you it was better this way. 

You both got your closure. 

Currently, you were walking Ares in the neighborhood around your apartment. You went to pick up a few things from the grocery store 4 blocks away from your apartment. It was a nice day for a walk and you had to get Ares to release some of his energy. It was a Saturday afternoon and you had planned on taking him hiking this morning, but your alarm clock was quickly forgotten thanks to your sleep. 

“Ares, you should have woken me up earlier, we could have just hiked instead of walking 4 blocks.” The exercise was welcomed, but you also liked taking your car to the grocery store since the bags could become heavy. “Most of these are your treats anyway, why can’t you carry them?” Ares looked back at you and just smiled.

You laughed and patted his back. “Yes, I know, you’re my favorite person in the world.”

“Ouch, but can’t say I’m surprised Ares replaced me.” 

You almost let go of Ares’ leash when you heard his voice. Looking up, you found Angel sitting on his bike, parked right in front of your apartment building. He looked so damn good. Ares recognized him and began pulling you towards Angel. He got on his hind legs, placing his front paws on Angel, licking him.

“Distance does make the heart grow fonder,” Angel laughed as Ares gave him kisses. He lifted him up, giving Ares a hug before placing him back down. He picked up the leash, finally looking at you. “Hey baby, you need help with those?” He reached for your grocery bags, but you moved them away from his reach.

“What are you doing here?” You questioned, trying to take Ares’ leash back from Angel, but he wouldn’t give it to you.

“What does it look like? I came to see you.” Angel gave you an odd look. “Are we going to go up?”

You were perplexed. Angel was acting as if nothing happened. He was acting as if everything was fine. Like you two never broke up. Like he didn’t walk out on you.

“You left.” You pointed out.

“And now I’m back, just had club shit to handle.” Angel rubbed Ares’ head.

“Angel please leave.”

“No.”

Angel has your keys since it was attached to Ares’ leash and made his way to your apartment building, Ares following along. You walked after him, debating if you should text Gabriel. But you knew it would just be a pissing contest between them and you didn’t want to deal with that on a Saturday.

The three of you walked in your apartment, with Angel unleashing Ares as soon as your door was closed. You walked past him, placing your items on the kitchen island, going into your room to remove your shoes. You were going to change in shorts, but you rather keep your sweats on, along with the white t-shirt you were wearing. You had to get ready soon anyway.

Walking back out, you found Angel sitting on the couch with his kutte off and Ares with his head resting on his lap. 

“Come join us baby, your HGTV show is on,”

He was starting to piss you off. How was he acting like he didn’t walk out of your apartment 2 weeks ago? No communication whatsoever, you thought that was it. 

“Angel, I have a date tonight, I would really appreciate it if you weren’t here when I get back.”

“A date?” Angel looked at you with an incredulous look on his face. “Excuse me, you’re going on a date?”

“Yes, I’m single, it’s been 5 months, I’m going on a date.” You didn’t see what was wrong with your statement. You were almost certain that Angel had been sleeping with anything that had a vagina at the clubhouse.

“That’s cute,” Angel smirked. “Okay, you have fun on your date.”

“Do you think I’m lying?”

“No, but I think it’s cute that you keep choosing to waste your time when we could be back together already.” Angel switched the channel. You wanted to be a bitch, then no HGTV for you. “I’ll hang back here with Ares.”

“Or you can go to the Mayans clubhouse and take Ares with you.”

“You want me to contribute to you getting laid?” Angel scoffed. “You’re out of your fucking mind.”

“Angel Ignacio Reyes, I don’t know what you’re playing at, but to be honest, I don’t care. We made it very clear two weeks ago that there is no future for us. I don’t know why you’re here, but I hope during the duration of your stay, you stay at the Mayans clubhouse since you are not welcomed here.” You had to put your foot down. If he thought you were playing around, nothing was going to change. 

“Ouch, full name, am I in trouble?” He winked at you. He knew how to press your buttons and it pissed you off. “Well, I’m transferring to Flagstaff, need a place to stay. I figured my best friend wouldn’t mind if I crash at her apartment.” If you wanted to play this best friend card, that was fine with him. You two would always remain best friends but you both knew it’s much more than that. 

“What?” You almost dropped your phone. “You’re transferring to Flagstaff?”

“Yes, of course, you’re here, where else should I be?” Angel was hurting after you told him that you couldn’t have kids, but not for the reason you thought. Driving to meet Coco and Gilly, Angel was in disarray. He loves you and the fact that you walked away from him cause you couldn’t have kids, it was heartbreaking for him. How could you think that not having kids was a deal breaker for him? You were much more important to him and he'd rather spend the rest of his life with you than have children. It was the beauty of modern technology, you can do some procedures to try and have kids. Besides, he didn’t mind adopting.

All he wanted was you. 

As long as he had you, he was going to be amazing. 

“You can’t transfer here.” He couldn’t do that. He couldn’t leave his charter and more importantly, not his family. Whether that was EZ and Felipe, or his new family, regardless he couldn’t move to Flagstaff. Not for you at least.

“You going back to Cali?”

“No.”

“Then I guess I’m staying.” Angel scratched Ares’ stomach, the dog snuggling his head further onto Angel’s lap. “Look at this, you don’t like me now and Ares loves me.” It stung Angel when he said that, but that’s what it felt. No matter how hard he tried and charmed you, you weren’t having it. 

“I don’t dislike you, I just want you to leave me alone.”

“If you give me a good reason to do so, then I will.” There was no good reason for him to leave you, but he was willing to hear you out for amusement purposes.

“I did, remember? Can’t have kids.” That should have been it, you shouldn’t have had to give him another reason, yet Angel was being such a pain in the ass. 

“Try another,”

“What do you mean try another?” You said through gritted teeth. “Angel, you want kids.”

“We can adopt, stop playing around baby, I love you, you love me. Let’s go home.” Angel stood up, making his way towards to. You were leaning against the doorframe of your bedroom. Wrapping his arms around you, he placed a kiss on your cheek, then your forehead. He almost kissed your lips, but you moved away. “Y/N, is it me? You don’t want me anymore?”

You groaned. He knew your weakness. No matter what was going on, you would never want Angel to think he was the reason. You knew his insecurities of being second best to EZ, that he didn’t matter as much as EZ. That he was the disposable one and that wasn’t it.

“No, of course I do, I’ve wanted you since I was 13, but that’s not enough. You’re having a kid with someone you love and I can’t even have kids.” 

Angel gently grabbed your face, tilting your head up so you two were looking at each other. “I don’t know what’s it going to take for you to understand I don’t love Adelita, but you’ll eventually understand and believe it. Even if she was having my kid, I would never leave you for her. I don’t care if you can’t have kids.”

“I do,” you whispered. “You don’t now, but you eventually will.” 

Angel kissed you then, your eyes immediately closing, losing yourself to the sensation. You’ve missed Angel so much, feeling his lips against yours was making you feel putty. One of his hands moved down your body, placing it on your waist and pulling you closer. “Fuck baby,” Angel’s lips hovered over you, capturing your lips once more. “You’re the only person who makes me feel this way.”

You pulled away, shaking your head. “Angel, just please respect my wishes. This is what I want.”

“No, it isn’t. I know this isn’t what you want. I know how you get, when you let your anxiety and insecurities overcome you, you become irrational and don’t think things through. No one knows you better than me,” Angel pulled you over to him again, wrapping his arms around you. “I’m not leaving you, I told you the only way you’re gonna get rid of me is in a coffin.”

“Stop saying that. I don’t want you to die.”

“Then stop fucking around and let’s go home. I’m not trying to disregard your feelings, but I’m never going to give up on you. This whole martyr bullshit of I love you so much that I would give you up? That’s bullshit baby, I love you, and I love you enough that I would never let you go. I’m a selfish prick, that’s fine with me as long as you’re by my side.” 

Your phone began to ring, breaking you out of the moment you had with Angel. You were about to give in, to go back to him, believe his words, but you couldn’t. And you were glad your phone rang to bring you back down to reality. 

“Hello,” you answered. “Sure, 7 you said? Sounds good. I’ll be ready by then. See you.” Hanging up, you slip your phone back in your pocket, looking at Angel who was leaning on the wall across from your room. “You’re welcome to stay, just don’t make a mess.”

“Y/N, you’re really going on this date?” 

“Yes.”

You didn’t divulge further, walking back in your room. 

Angel smirked. If you actually thought he was going to let this date happen, you were out of your mind. 

Angel stood outside of your apartment building leaning against his bike, smoking. It was 6:55 in the afternoon and he was certain your date was coming. He saw a guy with flowers and he was almost certain that was your date. Walking in after him, the guy held the door open for him. He thanked him and they both got on the elevator.

“First date?” Angel questioned.

“Second date actually, I met her through my sister.” The guy smiled. “She’s a nice girl.”

“Yeah? My younger sister lives here, who are you going on a date with?”

“Y/N Y/L/N.”

Bingo.

“Oh man, if I were you, I would steer clear.” 

The guy looked at Angel, obviously interested as to why he made that statement.

“Did you know she has 5 kids? All different baby daddies.”

“She has kids?” The guy’s voice croaked and Angel could not have planned things any better than they were going.

“She didn’t tell you? Guess it’s not really first date material.” 

They arrived on your floor.

“Don’t even worry man, just let her know that you realized that you two didn’t have a connection. It’s not her, it’s you.”

“Thanks for helping me dodge a bullet man.”

“Of course, just looking out.”

Angel stepped outside of the elevator and had to laugh. This was going to be too easy.

This wasn’t the first date Angel ruined for you. For the next 3 weeks, Angel successfully scared multiple suitors off. 

His douche swatter lines ranged from:

“Oh, Y/N, bro, let me save you the trouble, she’s psychotic. She literally stalked me after I broke up with her.” 

“Her father is a cop.”

“3 of her ex-boyfriend’s disappeared after they broke up with her, I’m not saying she killed them, but I’m saying they disappeared after they broke up.”

And his favorite one.

“She’s going through a divorce, and her husband is psychotic.”

And Angel was psychotic, especially when it came to you. 

For some reason, you didn’t catch on it was Angel’s doing, but you were slightly becoming depressed. Why weren’t these guys wanting to date you? They were interested and then out of nowhere they disappeared.

“It just makes no sense,” you frowned, sitting on a chair inside of Gabriel’s garage as he worked on her car, changing the oil. 

You slipped out of your apartment leaving Angel and Ares. Angel slept on your couch since you didn’t want him sleeping in your bed. It was really difficult for you since he was so close to you. You couldn’t believe Angel was staying put and he meant it about transferring. 

“Mami, you know Angel’s doing all of this right?”

“No, he’s never at the apartment when I’m going on a date, he goes to the clubhouse or something.” You reasoned with Gabriel as you took another bite of your McChicken sandwich. 

Gabriel laughed. “Don’t be dense, you know Angel has been doing it discreetly, he literally does not come to the clubhouse as often as you think he does.” 

“He’s transferring isn’t he?”

“Yes, he is, but his charter has to vote on it and then we do.” Gabriel didn’t divulge further. “Baby, we both know Angel is sabotaging your dates, can’t say I blame him.” He really couldn’t because he would be doing the same thing. 

“I don’t know why he’s still here, I’m sure his baby mama gave birth by now.” You frowned. You’ve been trying your best to get rid of Angel and he was just being so obnoxious about it. 

“Look, you know I’m on your side, but don’t be naive about this. He’s not going to leave till you come with him.” Gabriel felt like it was a losing battle with Angel. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to sway you especially with Angel back in your life. Maybe if he had you alone for a few more months then he would’ve won, but at this point he knew it was a losing battle. Doesn’t mean he’ll give up though. “It’s not his kid.”

“How do you know?”

“Angel strikes me as the type of person that would not continually deny that a baby is his if there was even a possibility the baby is his.” Gabriel chuckled. “I think you’re just afraid that you ran all the way here and you may be wrong.”

“Gabriel the facts are there.”

“No, you made assumptions.” Gabriel sighed. “Y/N, Angel loves you, if he’s truly your best friend, shouldn’t you believe his words over assumptions you’ve made without checking out facts?”

Gabriel was right. You were afraid to face facts that Angel might not be lying and you wasted your time by running. You couldn’t help it, after what happened a year ago, you’ve never truly forgiven Angel. He didn’t even know he did anything wrong and that was on you, but you let anything slide by, cause you love him and you wanted to be understanding.

“Why are you so caught up on Angel loving this other woman?”

“Cause he missed my mother’s death anniversary to be with her.”

It wasn’t on purpose. At least you didn’t think so.

Ever since your mother passed away, Angel always spent the day of her death with you, doing things your mother loved doing when she was alive. Every year, no matter what, Angel was there. Except last year. He was with Adelita. What pained you was that the date never changed, it was the same every year. He could have reserved that day for you, but instead, he was over the border with Adelita.

Gabriel knew of this day since he celebrated it with you this year. You weren’t feeling the best, especially with this whole thing with Angel, so you sought out Gabriel so you two could hang out.

Before Gabriel could reply, your phone rang. You picked up your phone and saw Angel’s name. 

“Hello,” you answered.

“Where are you?” You could tell he just woke up with the way his voice sounded hoarse. 

“Gabriel’s.”

“For what?” He didn’t mean for it to come out as rough as it did, but he hated it whenever you spent time alone with Gabriel. 

“I need to get an oil change.” 

“I could have done that for you.”

“With what tools?”

Angel sighed. “What time are you coming home?”

“Are you almost done?” You asked Gabriel.

“Yes, but I thought we had a date tonight?” Gabriel knew what he was doing. The smirk on his face said it all. You wanted to slap Gabriel, but he was too far from you and the Arizona heat has stuck you to your seat. Moving would make everything too hot. 

As soon as Angel heard his words, he immediately yelled out on the phone.

“Okay, see you later, bye.” You hung up on him, glaring at Gabriel.

“We have no dates planned and I already told you, I’m not dating any Mayans members.”

“Is that the only reason you won’t date me?” Gabriel had to know. Maybe he was making it up all in his head. But he knew for a fact that if Angel wasn’t in the picture, you would be his by now. And unlike Angel, he would never make you doubt him and you would always be by his side. He couldn’t explain what it was that drew him to you. Whenever he came to Santo Padre, you were always near Angel and everyone else stayed away from you, which was why he figured you were Angel’s girl. But when he did his research, it seemed that you weren’t Angel’s girlfriend at all, you were just his best friend. They still cautioned Gabriel. When he finally approached you, he definitely appreciated the conversation you two had. You didn’t pretend to like bikes or ask him about his patches. Nope, you two spoke about the latest Marvel films and argued which was the best one. And from then on, he sought out your company whenever he was in Santo Padre. 

“You’re also a douche.” You couldn’t lie. If the situation was different, you would have given Gabriel a chance. He was a sweet guy, definitely not bad on the eyes. But Angel has had you for as long as you remember. You weren’t ready to open your heart to anyone till you were fully over Angel. It just wouldn’t be fair otherwise. 

“Isn’t that you’re type?” He teased you as he took off his shirt. “Like what you see?”

“Gabriel!”

Gabriel laughed, pulling down the hood of your car and closing it. “We have dinner with my moms tonight, remember?”

“Right, that’s not a date though.”

“Angel doesn’t have to know that.”

[hyucksong]

to all the boys i’ve loved before; mark lee

Dear Mark,

     You know what Mark Lee? Fuck you. You’re a piece of shit and I should’ve known that you were a lying bitch when I saw you stare at that waitress for too long. I should’ve known that there was something you weren’t telling me because she looked at you like an old friend. But you insisted that you didn’t know her.

     Fuck you.

     I hope you can sleep with yourself at night knowing that you wasted my Senior year with fake love. I can’t believe I gave you my first kiss. I can’t believe we made out after prom. I can’t believe I snuck out of the house for someone like you. I can’t believe that you were the first person I actually dated. I can’t believe I told you I love you. 

     I hope the waitress-ex-girlfriend hybrid kisses better than her pancakes. I hope breaking my heart was worth it, Mark Lee. 

     Because it definitely doesn’t feel worth it on my part. I regret everything, Mark Lee. I hope your story ends with your kingdom falling apart. 

Dear Mark,

     Looking back, my anger was a little hypocritical. I knew better than anyone how love and denial made you do stupid things -- made you do things you regret or regret things you didn’t do. I get it.

     At the same time, it hurt. Maybe if I was a rebound that lasted only a few weeks, it’d hurt less. But you lied to me for a whole year. From August to May. You told me you loved me. You lied. 

     To be fair, I lied too. I told myself that Chenle was a thing of the past all throughout Junior year and that nothing was going to get in the way of my grades. Forget Chenle and Jisung, Haechan, Jaemin, or Jeno. That was supposed to last until graduation. Then in step you. The boy next door. Love of my Senior Year.

     But let’s be real. Forgetting someone and the love you held for them after five-plus years is impossible, we both know that. I may have been your rebound, but God knows you were probably just the same to me. I just never admitted it to myself. But kissing your ex at my graduation party wasn’t cool. Not at all. Even though we may have just been rebounds, I like to think we still meant a lot to each other. I mean, we kissed and stared into each other’s eyes. We held hands and sat in comfortable silence. We laughed at stupid things together -- hell, you met my parents. That’s got to mean something, right? 

     I hope it did. Because you’re an amazing guy; your giggly and timid persona, your quirky habits, your willingness to listen to me rant for hours on end, your insecurities and the way you shared them with me -- I hope none of that was fake. And remembering the way you couldn’t even lie to me for my surprise birthday party, I don’t doubt that at least those parts were real. Maybe if you weren’t so great, I’d actually hate you for cheating. But...there’s something about you that I just... can’t.

     Regardless of what I said in my last letter, I’ve never regretted dating you. Our fairytale was great while it lasted. I almost didn’t hear the clock strike twelve. But it struck.

     I hope you got your fairytale, though. I hope you found the girl that fits into your glass slipper. You’re an amazing guy, even with your flaws and mistakes. Just hope you didn’t lose a Cinderella for an evil step-sister on accident. 

Love, Y/n.

///a scene from the heart///

     Was this what you were missing out all those years of chasing boys who didn’t love you back? Were you missing the wind in your hair and the loud 90′s music blasting from a beat-down convertible? Because if so, you wished that Mark Lee would’ve appeared in your life earlier. 

     He was driving on the interstate, his hand on your thigh and your bags in the back of his trunk as you both rode your way to the beach for spring break. You had turned eighteen and he told you that “he wanted to make it the most memorable spring break of your life,” word for word. You’d rolled your eyes when he first said them, but with his cute laugh resounding around your ears, you knew he wasn’t lying.

    “Mark,” you rested your chin on the center console, where his right elbow was resting. He took his eyes from the empty road and look at you, his gaze pointing to your lips before trailing up to your eyes. “Yes, baby?” The car slowed down a little as his attention was placed on you, dropping back down to the speed limit. You licked your lips and thought about your words before biting your bottom lip and hiding your smile. Strawberry lip balm filled your taste buds, but you weren’t paying attention to that. His attention made your ears turn red. No one ever treated you the way he treated you.

     “I love you, Mark.” 

     Even the music seemed shocked at your words, the background vocals gasping as the boy’s eyes widened. His hands seemed to loose from the steering wheel before the car began to drift to the side. A curse fell from Mark’s pretty lips and he put both hands on the wheel to correct the position -- but after the chaos toned down and your statement went un-responded to, you felt tears well in the corner of your eyes.

     “S-Sorry,” You laughed, beginning to sit up. “What -- n-no! No! I-I, uh,” Mark stumbled through his words but placed his hand back on your bare thigh. “Y/n, baby,” He tore his eyes from the road, again, “I love you, too. A lot, actually.”

     He seemed to notice the insecurity drifting in your eyes because then he placed his soft lips on yours. Even though it was probably against the law, his lips molded with yours for a solid second as you both tore through the intestate roads at 90 mph. He looked away the second he pulled from you, his red cheeks facing the road again. 

     You laughed, biting your cheek as your intertwined your fingers with his for the rest of the trip. He wasn’t lying when he said he’d make this spring break the most memorable one of your life. 

///a scene from a broken heart///

     The scene in front of your eyes was surreal. It was entrancing. The way the moonlight lit the background with a beautiful silver shimmer and the trees swayed like lovers in a dance. The way his arms held her face like she was the Hope Diamond, and he the thief. How she pulled him in so close that you could feel his heartbeat drum in tune with hers. 

     It would be even more entrancing if he weren’t Mark Lee and she wasn’t the waitress that served you cold pancakes at IHOP yesterday. You didn’t know what to feel. His lips were smeared with an annoying red as his hand moved from her face to her waist. You almost forgot it was your graduation party with the show going on in front of you. 

     I mean, if you were going to cheat, couldn’t you at least not do it in front of the chocolate fountain? 

     Chenle walked up to you with a smile on his face, his arms spread for a hug when he noticed your grip crushing the red solo cup you held. His gaze followed yours and his heart stopped. Oh. 

     “Screw Mark Lee.” You seethed, tears slipped furiously past your waterline, down your chin. “Screw Mark Lee.” You said a little louder. Chenle’s hand came to rest on your forearm before trailing down to your hand, trying to calm you down. “I knew he wasn’t good for you,” He muttered, giving the side-eye to the cheating boy. You paid no attention to the venom laced in his tone because your body shook too fervently with emotions you couldn’t recognize. Guilt? Sadness? Regret? Hatred? Relief?

     Understanding? 

     “Y/n, come on, let’s go. I’ll call Jisung and we can all spend the night at my house like the old times. Don’t pay attention to that asshole. I don’t know what happened between you and Jisung, but I’m sure that he won’t ignore you when you’re like this --”

     “I don’t want to.” Chenle’s grip fell, and his throat dried. “W-What, why?” His question was met with an eerie silence and more tears. 

     “Screw Mark Lee.” He sighed, shaking his head, “Y/n, please--” He pulled you in, but the warmth from his arm did nothing but make you angrier. 

     “FUCK YOU, MARK LEE!” You shouted, throwing your drink down and ignoring the cold splash against your bare leg. Mark’s eyes snapped open and towards the noise, freezing when he saw you. It was like seeing a deer in headlights. The waitress he was kissing looked at you too, apologetically, before leaning over to whisper something in the frozen boy’s ear and walking down your driveway to the familiar beat down convertible. 

     You let the staring contest continue with Mark before you started sobbing, snot and tears falling from your face as Chenle dragged you away and towards his car. People were staring and whispering, and you passed familiar faces like Jeno and Haechan (that you didn’t remember inviting) as you kicked and screamed, yelling about how you regretted spending the last year of your life with a cheating prick. 

     Mark didn’t move an inch from his spot as Chenle drove you away, a concerned hand rubbing your knee. Your sobs didn’t stop either. Your heart didn’t stop hurting until weeks later, but in a strange way, you were relieved. In a strange way, you understood. In a strange way, you were the same. Because the way your heart drummed as Chenle held you that night in a means to comfort you told you how things weren’t going to last with your Senior love.

     Everything came crashing down. All your walls, all your barriers. Every wall you built up with Haechan, Jaemin, Jeno, Jisung, and Chenle crumbled around you as Chenle whispered words in your ear and you cried into your pillow. As much as it hurt, and would hurt for a while, that last heartbreak cleared your slate. All the tears you’d been holding for years came and went. 

     It was a new beginning as the sun dawned on your fallen kingdom. It was time to start anew. 

///

masterlist

[mymymadeline]

• Someone New 

pairing: Hallmark Christmas Movie Au! Poe Dameron x Reader

word count: 2.7k words

summary: He’s instantly beautiful in an almost familiar way, like you could call his features home.

warnings: none! :)

notes: look... isn’t this what we all want? big shoutouts to my sun and stars Cat for making this fic baby with me, couldnt have done it without you love. Enjoy!

Adore You series: 01, 02, 03, 04, ... - AO3

“Well I don’t care how it gets done, it just needs to get done! As long as it’s legal, I'm fine with it, and if it’s illegal, well I'm sure we can find a way to work around that.” 

 If you hadn’t already kicked off your heels behind your desk twenty minutes ago, you’re sure your feet would be aching from the frantic pacing that’s now ruining your office carpet. The curtains are open to the bustling concrete metropolis outside, the massive height of the building giving you all the privacy you need. Uncertain sunshine slips from massive clouds and tentative rays rest on your carpet. 

“Enjoying your final day at work, I see.” Kylo smiles mockingly at you from the doorway of your office. Your frantic strides come to an irritated halt and you squeeze the phone next to your ear a little tighter.

“Just text me when it’s done. Don’t even call, I don’t care.” Hanging up before they can answer with a firm, unsatisfying press of your finger, you level your gaze with Kylo’s irritatingly smug face.

“What could you possibly want right now, Kylo?” You have to hold yourself back from rolling your eyes. Letting him onto your annoyance would only spur him on and you really don’t need that right now.

He crosses his arms and leans on the doorframe, carefully crafting the picture of power. “It just seems to me like leaving town is causing you so much stress. It might just be easier to stay.” He shrugs. 

“Ha. And you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You raise your brow at him, putting as much taunting venom in your voice, hopefully without devolving into an actual argument. “Me giving up my first real vacation in years to stay and do more busywork, while you gallivant around with some… hmm more models, will it be this year?” 

Kylo scoffs, obviously enjoying this sparring much more than you. But a rare softness takes over his tone. “You know, you could always come with me.”

This catches you off guard. You haven’t seen this kind of tone from him in a long time. Not since before everything went down in burning wreckage between you two. 

You level your gaze with his meaningfully, keeping your voice smooth but unemotional. 

 “I think that would be a bad idea.”

Any sincerity in Kylo’s features goes as quickly as it came, he shrugs it off like it disturbed him to even know it still exists within him. His petulant yet teasing smugness takes over as natural as the clouds over the sun. 

“Yeah, well, don’t say I didn’t try. Anyway, hardly a vacation, spending a month in that pathetic, run-down rat-hole. I forgot, did they get wifi there yet?” 

Moving away from Kylo, you pace back over to your desk, turning your phone meditatively between your hands. “You act like you didn’t grow up there too.” 

Echo Basin was not a major town by any means. In fact, both you and Kylo spent all of graduate school telling people you were from Yavin just to spare the confused looks and odd questions. But while Kylo only ever pulled further away from your hometown and the people in it, you often pondered what life would have been like if you’d stayed. But it was never more than a thought, as the business at hand was always more pressing and besides, you were successful here. What more could you ask for?

 “We lived there for the first 18 years of our lives. We grew up at Imperial U.” Kylo snaps you out of your brief reverie and brings your attention back to his now clearly disinterested demeanor, as he scrolls through his phone. “Whatever, it’s your ‘vacation.’ As long as you don’t end up like that traitor.” He pauses, about to elaborate before he shakes his head and continues scrolling. “Still, we have a meeting with Hux approximately... four minutes ago. So, whenever you’re ready, princess.”  

You turn away from him, to the window and look out among the bustling streets and impassive skyscrapers of the city. The few rays of sunshine in your office have taken off, leaving the room colder than usual. Dark clouds look to be rolling in from the east. You faintly recall the weatherman standing next to a big snowflake on the TV this morning. You didn’t believe him before.  

“Sure. I’ll meet you there.” 

_____________

You give your best death glare to the array of lights flashing at you from the dashboard. They blink meaningfully, as if you have a clue what any of them mean, as snow continues to pelt the windows of the car. The hours long drive has exhausted your vision and the windshield is slowly becoming a wall of white. Maybe you should have invested in those 5 Hour Energies after all. Your assistant had offered to buy you an array of energy supplements or drinks for the trip, but in a foolish attempt to not show any weakness in front of employees and peers, you refused. Ah, hubris. 

Still, you drive on, heat blasting to offset the nearly year-round chill of your hometown and do your best to keep a positive attitude. But that attitude only proves more difficult to keep as the wheels of your precious TIE give an unpleasant bump and the sleet lined road is finally starting to make you chew your lip. 

“Come on. Only a few more miles to go.” You gently goad your car, pointedly ignoring the GPS and its remaining 80 miles. 

 The car answers only with another lurching screech. Then a sputter. Then a whine.

 The noises pause, as if waiting for a reply. 

“Don’t you dare,” you whisper. But your threat only comes out as a plea. 

Without your permission and seemingly out of spite, the car sputters and begins to slow, your frantic attempts on the gas giving no support. Continuing forward with only your momentum, you manage to gently steer your beloved, stupid car off towards the snowy treeline purely on instinct.

Out in the snow, on this one-lane highway, as the sun sets at 4:00 PM on a Friday, your car stops moving. 

 You sit in the stalled vehicle, as frozen as the miles of nothingness around you. You’re going to die here. Your shaking hands clutch the steering wheel in a white knuckle grip and you let out an angered scream worthy of an Academy Award. You just wish you were acting. 

 You manage to scream yourself out of breath, but the stupid thought won’t go away. You’re going to die here. What a stupid childish thought. You’ll be fine, just act like an adult. 

“Ok, ok. Calm down. You’re not far from town. Grow up and find out what’s wrong with your car like a reasonable car owner.” You reach for the door handle and are met with only another gust of wind, pushing all of the snow it can carry in your direction and your body shivers at the mere idea. 

“Ok, maybe just call someone.” 

Your phone is a lot of things. You’ve spent countless hours with it scrolling through stocks, shouting at people, being shouted at, scoffing at idiotic articles that don’t know the first thing about you. In fact, it's probably your only friend. And now, in the middle of nowhere, it feels like a lifeline.  

Your brain briefly recalls the fuzzy image of the old auto shop you would sometimes pass while getting groceries all those years ago, but whatever name was on the sign escapes you. So you’re left with dialing the first place that shows up on Google and crossing your fingers.  

Ring

Ring

“Pick up.”

Ring

“Please.”

Click.

“Rebel Auto, this is Rose. How can I help you?” 

A cheerful woman’s voice answers at the end of a laugh, as if joking around had kept her from picking up. You sigh in relief, but are quietly alarmed as the fact that you can see your breath already. The car is cooling quickly. 

Without a second thought, you put on the ‘phone call voice’ you’ve mastered for over a decade and get straight to the point. 

“Yes, Hi. My car has just broken down on the main highway, just after mile...” you turn around try to note the mile marker, but the fog on the inside and the snow on the outside are doing everything they can to make your job impossible. “77? I believe? Anyway, I need a tow into town and a repair as soon as possible. Thank you.”

“Oh.” The woman seems caught off guard at your brusk and smooth tone. There’s a sound of shuffling papers and she clears her throat. “Yes, ma’am. We’ll send someone out immediately. I-In the meantime can you identify your make and model?”

Immediately. Perfect, at least if you freeze, there will be someone close enough to find your body. With another breath of relief, you allow yourself to actually relax, even examine your nails. Damn, when did you get that chip on the thumb?

“Yes, it’s a 2021 TIE Striker. And if you’re going to ask me what the problem is, I don’t know. I don’t know anything about cars. It was driving and then it wasn’t.” 

“A… TIE Striker? Wow… Uhm-” Rose seems at a momentary loss for words, you’re not quite sure why. “Not often people drive TIEs and not know anything about cars.” She laughs. You don’t. 

“Well, Rose if that’s all I-” Something about the name coming out of your mouth gives you pause. Dots that you didn’t know were there start to connect. 

“Wait, Rose? Rose... Tico?” 

“Uhm…” her gulp is audible through the phone. “Yes?”

Now is when you laugh. You almost feel dumb enough to smack yourself on the forehead. Almost.

You clear your throat and put on your best impression of Ms. Holdo.

“Ms. Tico this is Honors English, not shop class. If you could please put away your… creation. ”

You wait with bated breath. You’re not even really sure if you remember how to make jokes anymore but you do remember this one from so long ago. Don’t make me look crazy.

You get the reaction you were looking for and then some. 

“ NO WAY ! ”

It’s your only warning before something your pretty sure is your name is squealed out on the other end of the line, so loudly in fact that you have to hold your phone a good distance away to avoid permanent ear damage. 

A grin, half pleased, half cringing, spreads across your face as the squealing continues.

“Yes, it’s me,” you laugh. 

“Oh my god. Are you back? Does this mean your back? I saw you on the cover of Wired! You looked hot !”

“Rose, one question at a time!” The bombardment usually irks you, interviewers or paparazzi stumbling over themselves just to get some dirt. But this kind feels oddly… nice? It feels genuine. Like she’s asking because she likes you. But… that can’t be the case, can it?

“Sorry, sorry!” You can practically hear her calming herself down. “Ugh, it’s just so cool to have you back in town. You are back in town right? That’s why you’re stuck on the highway?” 

“Yeah. It’s my parents' thirty-fifth anniversary and I haven’t been back in about fifteen years… I thought it might be time.” 

“Oh man, I can’t wait to see you! This is going to be so fun.” The heartfelt warmth of her tone makes the chilling air around you just that more bearable. But a sound cuts through from wherever she is and she turns back to friendly business. “Anyway, I’ll let you go, but I’ll see you at the shop soon! Poe left about five minutes ago, so he’s on his way. Bye!”

“Oh, alright. Uhm, bye.”

 You hear a few excited giggles before the beep cuts them off, leaving you in the silent car once again, with a strange hollowness sitting sickly in your chest. It wouldn’t have been so bad to just talk a little longer. But, that was odd, wasn’t it? Maybe it only felt odd because... you couldn’t remember the last time a friend had called. When was the last time you spoke to someone who seemed to actually care about you?  

Shaking your thoughts from the uneasy turn of conscious, you turned out to the sunset that has been steadily falling for the past half hour. Blinking tiredly, you hope that whoever is coming for you is quick. You attempt to recall the name she gave but it has already fallen to the back of your mind. Closing your eyes, you think it might not be a bad idea to get a tiny nap in meanwhile. Just a tiny one. Not a big -

______________

A rumbling that shakes the car jerks you out of your peaceful rest, and you shiver, the car much colder than you remember. Looking around, it’s quickly apparent your nap was much longer than the ‘tiny’ one you had so stupidly planned. It’s pitch black, the forest completely dark around you, and the only light comes from the bright headlights heading straight your way. Blinking groggily, you shield your eyes to the approaching vehicle, but the lights begin turning away, as the large truck appears to pull a U-turn, pulling in front of your car.  

Oh, thank god. Your savior has arrived.

A figure steps out of what you can now see is a tow truck. A flashlight leads their way in the treacherous snow as they approach, and you step out to greet them. The bitter chill hits you instantly causing a visceral shiver to overtake your body. 

“You alright there?” A warm, slightly scratched voice cuts across the wind, and your assuring smile only comes out as a grimace. 

“It’s just freezing is all.”

“We’ll see if we can get you warmed up then.”

You and the man meet halfway, only a few feet apart, and with your eyes steadily adjusting and the bright moonlight above, you can now make out his features.

Dashing is the only word that comes to mind as your brain short circuits. He is handsome. He’s instantly beautiful in an almost familiar way, like you could call his features home. Warm and gorgeous dark eyes blink back in their own caught-off-guard way, as you finally come back into the moment at hand and the man standing before you.

“Wow.” He speaks in something close to a whisper, and it’s almost lost to the wind. But he clears his throat before you can ask what has him so thrown.  

“You -uh- called the auto shop right?” He drags his eyes away from you and over to your sad, slumped over TIE behind you. You tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear and drop your gaze, nodding. 

“Yes. That was me. Sorry for all the trouble.” 

You suddenly feel very foolish and very embarrassed. You had expected some no one townie, not this heartthrob that could have easily replaced Errol Flynn in any of his biggest features. Having him drive all the way out in this weather just to take care of your stupid car feels very rude, and you suddenly wish you knew more about cars.

“Why don’t you get situated up front and I’ll get this set up back here?”

Sneaking a glance back up, you meet his eyes and quickly look away again, nodding once more. 

“Sure.”

You go to move past him, making a good few feet of footprints in the snow when a thought shoots through your brain at light speed and you’re jogging back to your car as fast as your designer boots will take you. You should have invested in a better pair of boots for the snow it seems because you don't make it very far before your front foot slips out from under you and your arms fly out looking for anything to grasp onto.

But Poe’s are quicker, instantly their firm grasp has a hold around you and your fall is cut short as you are held tightly against him.  

His breath comes out as a chuckle and he looks down at you, “What’s the hurry?”

You laugh slightly too, quickly righting yourself and trying to purge the memory of his arms around you and how nice it felt. 

“I forgot my bags is all.” 

Without a second glance, you march, much more carefully this time, towards the back of your car.

Poe runs a hand through his curly snow-flecked hair, smirking to himself.  

Ok, this could be interesting. 

-

notes: thanks for reading!

Chapter 2 should be up soon, though I can't guarantee a strict schedule. I have this whole fic plotted out though, so we ain't winging it! We'll finish this thing!

[sanderssides-springfling]

The Frogman

For @space-mothman 

Synopsis- Analogical cryptid-hunting AU in which they search for the mysterious Frogman for a college documentary project.

Warning- Swearing + Minor wound

Note- Hiya!! I’ve had a lot of fun working with the wishes you asked for and I’m super excited to see what you think of it! I hope you’re doing well :D

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Virgil held up the two near-identical hoodies in front of the mirror, deciding which to wear when a familiar head poked through the doorway. 

“Ooh, are you getting ready for your little date?” 

Virgil walked over to kick him out when Janus joined in. 

“Leave our darling little brother alone Remus, his boyfriend will be here soon. We have to find the baby pictures before he arrives.”

“He’s not my boyfriend! The teacher paired us up. I had no say in it.” Virgil said as he tried and failed to push the pair out. “And if either of you shows him any embarrassing pictures of me, you’re both dead.”

“Wow, how scary,” mocked Remus as Janus mimed a face of fear. He then added, “If I were you I’d go for the one on the left, it makes you look less…intimidating and murdery.”

Virgil swatted at him with the hoodie before putting it on reluctantly, huffing about how he was planning to choose it anyway because it was ‘warmer’.

Just then the doorbell rang. Virgil’s eyes opened wide as he ran down the stairs to get to the door first but he was no match for Remus. He shoved Virgil out of the way and opened the door wide. 

“You must be Logan. We’ve heard so much about you. Why don’t you come in?” He invited with a wild grin on his face.

Virgil stared daggers at Remus as Logan walked in, politely telling Remus he has a lovely home. He was wearing a jean jacket over an unbuttoned plaid shirt and a graphic t-shirt depicting Mothman. His soft-looking hair fell over the rim of his glasses, the eyes behind them taking in his new surroundings.

Before Virgil could tell Logan they should leave, Janus began his, rehearsed, warnings. “You better take good care of my brother, young man. I’m expecting you to bring him home with at least three remaining limbs and having gone through a maximum of one demon possession, preferably none, or else there will be hell to pay. I’m also expecting you to keep criminal activity to a minimum along with the use of venomous vipers, they’re nasty creatures.” 

To Virgil’s surprise, Logan had taken out a notepad and started to make notes, taking his speech seriously. Janus clearly wasn’t expecting this either as his expression softened towards Logan. “It’s obvious you’ll take good care of him. I’ll let you two go because I’m sure you have plenty of ‘work’ to do.” He winked at Virgil. “Just be careful.”

“But-”

“The baby photos and home videos can wait for their second date Rem, let’s give Virge a chance to embarrass himself without our help first.”

Virgil glared at his brothers as he dragged Logan outside, only mildly thankful Janus let him off that easy. What had he done to deserve being stuck with those two morons?

“Have fun!” Remus called out as the door slammed closed. 

“Come on, I parked down the road. It’s not far.” Logan set off walking away, Virgil joining him a moment later.

“I’m super sorry about them,” Virgil said. “Ignore everything they said, they’re not worth wasting energy on.”

“It’s quite alright Virgil, it’s clear they care for you. I have always admired the dynamic between siblings.”

“You’re an only child? Lucky.” He thought back to how embarrassing his brothers were. They took every opportunity available to tease Virgil, regardless of whether they were alone or with any of his few friends. In moments like that, it was hard to remember why he loved them. He reminded himself, trying to calm down.

On his worst nights, Remus would tell him a gruesome ‘bedtime story’ while Deceit badgered him to add a happy end. They would also take him to concerts of bands he liked and try to fit into the scene even though they hated the music and fashion. Seeing Janus in a My Chemical Romance shirt trying not to curse after jabbing himself in the eye with Virgil’s eyeliner was still one of his fondest memories.

“Although,” Virgil added, “It does have its advantages.”

Logan stopped in front of an old pickup truck. Despite the carefully polished hubcaps and fresh paint job, it had visibly been through a lot.

“Here we are, our ride for the evening.” Logan took hold of the passenger door handle. “The door can be a little tricky sometimes.” He rattled the handle, banging at a spot a few inches below it. The door sprang open. “Like to most things, there’s a trick.”

He pulled the door open fully, holding it for Virgil as he clambered up. “Uh…thanks.”

Logan proceeded to join him from the driver’s side. “It may not look it but it’s a strong and reliable vehicle, I spent all last summer fixing it up.” He said proudly.

“No, no, it’s nice!” Virgil reassured him. “Does it have a name?” 

“Why would my truck have a name?” Logan asked, appearing puzzled. He put his key in the ignition. The vehicle whirred to life.

“Nevermind. Are you excited to film our project?” 

“Incredibly so! When Mr Picani said we had to make a documentary on any subject I got super excited about the idea of cryptid hunting! Thank you for going along with it!”

“Whatever gets me to pass the class dude. Plus this seems like a better way to spend time than filming ladybugs walking on leaves and doing some boring commentary.” What Virgil didn’t add was that after seeing the excitement of Logan’s face when he proposed the idea, Virgil couldn’t find it in his heart to say no. 

He shuffled in his seat. “I’m also really happy I got partnered with you. I know we haven’t talked much but you seem a lot easier to get along with than the other people in our class.” Virgil smiled in Logan’s direction and despite the dim lighting, he could have sworn he saw Logan blush.

“Oh, thank you, Virgil. You too have ‘good vibes’ if I’m using the term correctly.” Virgil grinned, telling Logan he did. 

“How about some music?” Logan asked before turning on the radio. Pop music crackled out of it, gently playing for the rest of their journey.

~~~~

A cold wind blew through the dense, gloomy woods. In the clearing before it, stood a teenager speaking to a camera, visible in the dying light of the sun.

“There are many legends about the Sanders Wilds, however, most revolve around the same being. A creature said to lurk in the depths of these woods, waiting for unsuspecting victims. 

He has been described as a slimy beast with incredible jumping abilities, his hind muscular legs able to propel him forward metres at a time. He most often appears by the many bodies of water found in this forest.

Although no-one has ever disappeared in the woods, most locals swear they’ve met one of the unfortunate souls chased by the being whose very existence is in question.

He goes by many names. The Shadow, the Beast of the Sanders Wilds and recently he’s been referred to as ‘Scary Todd’ by a youngster from a neighbouring Elementary school.”

Virgil raised his eyebrows from behind the camera when he heard ‘youngster’ but Logan brushed it off and continued.

“The most common name of the cryptid we will be investigating today, inspired by its many characteristics, is” Logan stopped for dramatic effect. “The Frogman.“

“That’s quite the speech you prepared there” Virgil called out as he put down the video camera and rubbed his forearm. His arms had begun to stiffen during Logan’s monologue 

“Are you ready to go in?” Logan asked.

Virgil froze. There was only one problem, something he hadn’t told Logan- He was scared. 

Virgil knew that technically there wasn’t anything to be scared of. The frogman was nothing more than an urban legend, mere shadows and reflections mistaken for something, however, it was the what if’s that plagued Virgil’s mind. What if the frogman was real? What if he appeared? Worst of all… what if he caught them? Virgil wasn’t sure if he was willing to risk his life to pass a college class he didn’t even like that much.

“Virgil?” Logan looked concerned. “Are you alright?”

Great, Virgil scolded himself. This was exactly why he hadn’t wanted to tell Logan in the first place. More than anything he didn’t want Logan to think he was a nervous wreck, scared of a fake monster. Now he’d have to tell his handsome partner he was a chicken and he would totally think less of Virgil. Oh why does Logan have to be so handsome, Virgil thought to himself as he looked towards his cryptid hunting companion. 

He was tall, with a sturdy frame that was perfect for giving supportive hugs and his hair was unruly in all the right ways, looking good for running your fingers through. It was very difficult to focus on anything else, Virgil had to admit. Good looking people never failed to make things more difficult.

“I- I’m just… a little scared.” Virgil mumbled reluctantly. “As controversial as it is, I’m not too keen on the whole getting captured by a forest monster thing.”

“Oh.” Logan looked disappointed. “Don’t worry about it, it’s not too late to change the project. I can drive us to the library and we can get started in something different. All that matters is that you feel comfortable.”

Virgil felt touched. Logan was willing to give up something he wanted to do for his well being? It wasn’t often that happened. That’s why he was determined to go in anyway. “No way. We’re going in there and finding that frogman. Just… promise to protect me from any monsters?” Virgil managed a smile as he held out his pinky, holding the camcorder in his other hand.

“Pinky promise,” Logan answered solemnly, hooking his finger around Virgil’s. Then, he smiled wide. “Now, let’s go say hi to The Beast. And…” He paused apprehensively as if he was trying to pick out the right words. “If you’re alright carrying the camcorder with one hand, maybe I could hold your hand? So you feel safe?”

Virgil laughed, slipping his hand into Logan’s. It felt warm compared to the cool evening. “As long as you’re okay with shaky footage.” He joked.

Logan led them into the forest, pulling out a flashlight from his pocket while Virgil switched the camera back on. There was an eerie quiet only broken by the crackling of leaves and snapping of branches under their feet. 

“Hey, Logan, you know you can talk, right? We can edit everything out of the footage later.” There was still no response. 

Virgil glanced towards Logan, seeing him staring intensely at a spot in the direction they were walking. “Make sure you get this.” He murmured before rushing up, tugging Virgil with him. He crouched down next to an animal print in the muddy ground. Virgil let go of his hand so he could step back and get a better angle. 

“This right here is an animal footprint however it belongs to no regular being. While it seems to belong to an amphibian creature as is indicated by the pattern and the indentation from webbing, it is bigger than any regular amphibians could produce.” Logan splayed his hand above the mark to demonstrate. They were around the same size. “This must be the footprint of the Frogman.”

Yay, Virgil thought to himself. Evidence of a creature that might kill them. How wonderful. 

He walked to Logan and helped him up, keeping hold of Logan’s hand afterwards because there was no way he was going to risk getting separated from him now. He also enjoyed the feeling of Logan’s hand in his, it made him a feeling of joy that he couldn’t quite place.

They continued when there was a sudden rustling a few metres in front of them. Instinctively Virgil squeezed Logan’s hand harder, holding onto him for safety. They both froze. Logan’s torch turned to the source of the sound, a bush. A moment later a squirrel scampered out of the said bush, disappearing into the darkness as quickly as it appeared. Both Logan and Virgil sighed in relief.

“That sure was one terrifying squirrel,” Virgil said as they continued to walk deeper into the woods. 

Virgil attempted to strike up small talk again, not wanting things to become awkward. “I like your Mothman shirt.”

“Oh, thank you, Virgil.” Logan beamed, the way he only did when he was speaking about something he was passionate about. “I had a really big cryptid phase as a child, so big my parents decided to take us to Point Pleasant for the summer break one year. That’s the hometown of Mothman, they have a statue of him and everything. It was incredible. That’s when I got the shirt! It’s been a good luck charm. Not that I believe in luck but it never hurts something else on your side”

“You got it as a kid and it still fits? You must’ve been a tall kid.”

“It was the middle of their tourist season so they were sold out of all the youth sizes. According to my mother, it made a very fashionable dress.”

Virgil held back giggles as the thought of a smaller Logan wearing that shirt going down to his knees with a pair of fashionable red heels crossed his mind. For whatever reason, if Logan were to wear a dress, Virgil believed he’d wear it with stunning red heels. He seemed the type.

“Did you spot The Mothman?” he asked, only half kidding.

“Unfortunately not, although it was probably for the best as I was going to ask him for an autograph. I doubt that would have gone down well with Him.“

The idea of a smaller Logan wearing an oversized Mothman merchandise shirt going down to his knees and a pair of fashionable red heels walking up to the Lord of the Shadows himself, at least double his height, and asking him to sign his autograph book was so funny to Virgil that he stopped in his tracks wheezing, his eyes brimming with tears. 

Seeing Logan’s bewildered expression, he tried to calm himself. After a few moments catching his breath trying to keep a straight he was able to regain his composure. “Sorry Lo, I’m fine now.”

“Can I ask-”

“No” Virgil interrupted him. “It’s really for the best you don’t.”

“Alright Virgil, I’ll trust you on this one.” He hummed a song Virgil wasn’t familiar with for a few moments. Then, he said, “I had an idea for while we’re either walking towards the Frogman or further into the depth of woods we might get lost in.” Virgil wasn’t sure if Logan was kidding and frankly he didn’t want to know. 

“Yeah L, what is it?” Virgil’s mind started to race when he realized he had called Logan a nickname. While only a shortening of his name, it still seemed very personal and friendly. What if it bothers him? What if he thinks it’s weird? 

“Well Vee,” Logan paused to see Virgil’s reaction, looking smug. Virgil stuck his tongue out at him. He wouldn’t admit it but his heart would flutter whenever he got that self-righteous expression on his face, seen often when he corrected the teacher or had got full marks on a test. It was cute. Very annoying, but cute.

“We could directly target your fear of the Frogman. You would have to trust me though.”

“I trust you,” Virgil answered with no hesitation. He squeezed Logan’s hand in his.

“Oh…um…” Logan appeared flustered. “This is going to seem scary but there’s a very low possibility of a negative outcome. Now…repeat after me.”

Logan took a deep breath before yelling “Fuck you Frogman!”

Virgil startled, not expected Logan to be so brazen. Yelling was a common occurrence for Logan however such vulgarities? Directed at a possibly supernatural creature who was reported as dangerous? He shook his head in disbelief.

Logan looked at him pointedly. “Oh no Logan, there is no way-” He stopped realizing there would be no convincing Logan. “Fine.” He grumbled.

“Frick you Frogman.” The words sounded uncertain. 

“That was a good first attempt, Virgil. If you want to try again, you should really try to metaphorically shake off any inhibitions and really go for it. I did promise to protect you, the Frogman won’t hurt you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

They had come to a stop next to a running stream of water. Virgil slipped his camcorder into his hoodie pocket and let go of Logan’s hand, freeing both his arms. After running his fingers through his hair trying to build up enough confidence and jumping where he stood for a moment getting into an energetic mood, he felt ready. Or as ready as he could be. 

Angling his head to the sky he screamed at the top of his lungs “Fuck you Frogman!”

He laughed in exhilaration, adrenaline running through his veins. Virgil felt invincible. “And fuck your Frogmother too!” He raised his hand for a high five.

“Yes!” Logan exclaimed. As he stepped towards Virgil, he must have been too excited to look where he walked because his foot caught on a tree branch. 

Instinctively Virgil went to grab Logan’s hand to keep him up, however, Virgil started hurtling towards the creek as well, knocked off balance. He gasped as he hit the cold water, a moment later crashing into Logan.

The stream had been quite shallow, a foot deep at most. Virgil, quite luckily, didn’t experience the brute of the fall, having fallen on top of Logan. He rolled off and tried to stand. He would definitely have a couple nasty bruises later, he thought to himself. 

“Hey Lo, are you okay?” Virgil looked for the torch that fell out of Logan’s hand during his fall. It wasn’t far and within seconds he was shining it directly at Logan’s face. Logan didn’t appreciate it.

“I’m fine, I assure you but please get that out of my face. The light is blinding.” Virgil muttered a few apologies while helping Logan to his feet. Overall, whilst cold and mildly pained, Logan appeared to be okay overall.

The two were both standing up in the middle of the creek. Although their feet were still submerged in the freezing cold water neither seemed to notice nor care. Instead, they were both looking directly at each other. 

They inched closer and Logan began softly “Virgil, I’ve been meaning to tell you-” however he didn’t get to finish that sentence.

There was a raucous splashing sound from further upstream. Then there was another, this time louder. Whatever was making the noise was approaching. 

Virgil shared a look of terror with Logan. He grabbed the camera and started recording as a shadowy figure started to form. Its form was unclear, however, it moved forward the way a frog might, leaping up and forward. Virgil was sure, it was The Frogman. 

“What are you waiting for, Vee? Run.” Logan urged him to come however Virgil was frozen in fear. This was the end for him. He’d never see Janus and Remus again. He’d never tell Logan how he feels. 

Logan snatched the torch from Virgil and took his now-free hand into his. Glancing back to the shadowy figure a final time, he muttered a few profanities, irked, then started to run, dragging Virgil with him. This was enough to snap Virgil out of his state, as he started running alongside Logan as fast as he could. The sound of the Frogman thudding behind them, hot on their trail, motivated them to keep going.

Virgil would never consider himself particularly athletic, which paired with the fact his legs were quite short created a challenge as he attempted to keep up with Logan, however, Adrenaline paired with the fact Logan wouldn’t have let him fall behind if he wanted to keep him as far from the Frogman as possible.

The journey out the forest was a blur. Virgil remembered stumbling however he got back up immediately. Logan shined the torch in front of them so they didn’t run into any trees. As a few minutes passed the sound of the Frogman following them faded away but neither would risk stopping. They continued forward and by some miracle, they had returned to the clearing where they had started, Logan’s pickup truck only a few yards away.

Logan slowed down to a stop outside it. “It’s alright, he won’t follow us out here.”

“That’s… really… great… Lo.” Virgil panted. He could feel his heart pounding in his head as he breathed so heavily he thought he might cough his lungs out. “How…are you…back to normal…so fast?”

“Oh, I did track in high school. Now you stay there while I get something.”

Virgil leaned against the truck as Logan rummaged around in his glove compartment. He pulled out an emergency foil blanket. He wrapped it over Virgil’s shoulders. “I only have one so you better keep that on. That water was freezing and I don’t want you getting hypothermic. You’re still soaking wet after all. Are you injured anywhere?” 

Unsure, Virgil checked. Sure enough, he had a cut on his shin. Damn, it must’ve happened when I tripped, he thought to himself. Only as the energy from the run wore off, he started to feel it sting.

“Is it okay if I clean that cut for you? I have a first aid kit in the truck’s cargo bed.” 

“Thanks, dude, I would really appreciate that. You better get under this blanket right after though, you’re not allowed to get hypothermic either.”

Logan smiled then pulled out a first aid kit from the back of the truck. “You can have a seat on the grass.” Once Virgil did, Logan joined him. “How are you feeling?”

“Still in shock and denial. It’ll probably only sink in later tonight that we got chased by the actual Frogman. How about you?” 

“Honestly…I feel incredible. We saw the Frogman! The Frogman is real” Logan grinned. “Also, this might hurt a bit” he warned Virgil as he disinfected the cut. He was right. Virgil’s eyes pricked with tears.

“It’s a good thing my jeans were already so ripped, that way people won’t even question this one.” he joked. 

“Did your camera survive that? I hope it’s not water damaged.”

“Nah don’t worry, it’s been through a lot. A little fall and water aren’t going to be the thing to break it.” He inspected the camera. “Unfortunately…I can’t say the same for the footage. The memory card looks completely fried.”

Logan’s smile fell. “That’s a shame, although maybe it’s for the best. The Frogman can continue living his best life in the forest with no scientists looking for him since there’s still no evidence.”

“Really?” Virgil asked incredulously. “You. The smartest person I know. Is against scientists?”

“Well… I’m not against scientists but having watched E.T. as a kid, I wouldn’t trust them with any rare or unusual beings.” He put a plaster on the cleaned injury then looked at his handiwork proudly.

Virgil was bemused by this. “You do know that’s a fictional movie, right?” After Logan did not answer he decided it was best to change tact. 

“C’mon, join me under this blanket so you can warm up before we drive away. I’m thinking we go to mine? I can make us some hot chocolate and we can decide what to do with the assignment. I can also lend you some dry clothes if you don’t mind being dressed Emo.” 

Logan moved so he was sat next to Virgil, their shoulders touching as the blanket covered them. “Sounds great Vee.”

“It’s a shame we wasted the evening though.” Virgil moped, but then Logan turned to face him. Their faces were mere inches away.

“Actually, I wouldn’t call it a wasted evening. I had a lot of fun spending the evening with you. “ 

Virgil was more taken aback by that than he was by him cursing at the Frogman. “I enjoyed spending the evening with you too. You’re really kind and surprisingly easy to talk to. I hope we could maybe spend some time together after this assignment is over if that’s something you’d like?” 

Virgil felt the tips of his ears burning as his face flushed completely. He knew he was being obvious now but it seemed worth it. Putting himself out there didn’t seem as scary with Logan.

Logan spoke as gently as he had when they were standing in the creek together.

“About that. I wanted to tell you something before we were rudely interrupted earlier.”

“Mhm?” Virgil murmured, not trusting himself to say any proper words.

“I believe I have romantic feelings for you, Virgil. I highly enjoy speaking with you and when you’re around my heart begins to beat faster. If you were to feel the same way I would love to take you on a date perhaps? With fewer cryptids, I assure you. If not-”

“Me too,” Virgil said, in disbelief, cutting him off. He didn’t want to hear the ’If not’ because he liked Logan back. A lot. He took hold of Logan’s hand. 

“If it’s okay with you Logan, can I kiss you?” He was surprised by his own confidence, but it felt right. Everything felt right.

Logan answered not with words but by closing the gap between the two of them. It was short and sweet. According to Virgil, it was perfect. Perhaps the evening wasn’t a waste after all.

[geronimo-11]

Joanna/Jacob - An accidental brush of lips followed by a pause and going back for another, on purpose

I’m so sorry this took so long for me to finish!! I’ve been working on it since you sent it in, but between school and everything else going on I didn’t get it finished until now.

I am... Not entirely satisfied with this ending, but if I edited any more, or kept going until I was satisfied, this probably wouldn’t be done until next year if at all lol

Anyway, have some teen!Jacob/Joanna because I love writing about the simpler times.

TW: for mentions of abuse

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

The pantry is smaller than she originally thought.

Every time Jacob breathes Joanna can feel his chest brush against hers and it sends a fresh wave of warmth shooting through her from head to toe. Suddenly he shifts his foot and accidentally steps on her toe and she has to bite back a yelp of pain. Jacob murmurs an apology in the dark and tries to move further away from her, but he doesn’t make it very far. He’d barely moved an inch before his back hit the shelves protruding from the other side of the wall.

In all fairness, making enough space for two panicked teenagers to cram themselves inside was probably the last thing on the contractors mind when they built the house. So, Joanna supposes, she can’t be too upset about the tight quarters. And, despite the awkwardness of their current situation, the day had started off pleasantly enough.

It was a beautiful day in Georgia, sunny and warm -- but nothing compared to the summer heat that would be blowing in soon enough. Old Man Seed was nowhere to be found - probably out spending money he didn’t have - and his wife was passed out in their bedroom, catching up on the lack of sleep she got from the previous night's screaming match. With no one to bother them and the weather so fair, Joanna decided it was a perfect day for a picnic. 

So she made some sandwiches, grabbed a bag of chips and a couple of bottles of soda, shoved it all in a basket her mother kept, and instructed Jacob and Joseph to grab plates and a couple of blankets while she carried John out the back door.

There was a peaceful spot in the woods past the Seed’s backyard, where the boys often ran to when their father was feeling particularly cruel and it was better to just steer clear of the house for a couple of hours. It was a grassy clearing out past some trees, close to a large pond that Jacob and Joseph had often gone swimming in — but that was before they’d had to worry about John toddling in after them.

Jacob had shown it to Joanna once before, but it was such a special haven for him and his brothers that she felt as if she were intruding by being there. She hadn’t gone back to it since he’d shown her, but the spot had been Jacob’s suggestion for their picnic and Joseph had seemed excited, and she wasn’t about to argue when he was smiling at her like that.

It was only after they had spread the blankets and passed out the drinks and sandwiches that Jacob realized he hadn’t grabbed any napkins -- or John’s baby food. And with the way his baby brother ate, they’d definitely be needing plenty of both. Joanna, wanting to use the bathroom anyway and not open to Jacob’s suggestion to just “find a bush”, offered to help him carry everything back and they set off towards the house together. It wasn’t until Joanna walked back into the kitchen, where Jacob was waiting for her, that their day took an unpleasant turn. 

Keys scraping the lock at the front door had both their heads whipping around, as if they could see the culprit through the wall. Please no -- not now. Joanna swallowed hard, feet rooted to the spot. After a couple of seconds they heard the distinct sound of swearing and then the doorknob was being jerked left and right, as if the person on the other side would be able to force the door open. Joanna felt her stomach drop.

Old Man Seed was home. 

The door finally opened with a loud slam as it hit the wall, and uneven footsteps echoed in the silence of the house. Joanna’s gaze moved to Jacob in panic. He swallowed, throat bobbing with the effort, and his eyes were fixed on the doorway to the kitchen. He didn’t seem to even remember she was there.

“Jake?” 

Jacob’s eyes snapped to her and she watched the muscles in his jaw clench. There was an uneasiness in the depths of those blue eyes as he looked at her, but determination quickly wiped away the unease, manifesting in the clench of his fists as he shifted in front of her as his father’s footsteps neared the kitchen. 

Absolutely not! Joanna thought briefly to herself. She wasn’t about to witness Jacob get into a fight with his father because of her, but there was no time to make it all the way across the kitchen before the Old Man got there, and even if they could their exit would draw attention to them. Which only left one other option.

Looking around quickly for a place to hide, Joanna had acted before she really thought anything through. One second they were standing in the middle of the kitchen, and the next she’d grabbed Jacob by the arm and dragged him into the pantry, closing the door behind them as quietly as she could. Boots thudded against the old linoleum of the kitchen floor as soon as the latch was shut.

Which led to their current predicament.

Jacob’s chest brushes against her again and it’s all Joanna can do to keep from screaming at the electricity that shoots down her spine. It wasn’t his fault, she knew, but if he had any idea how much being this close to him was driving her crazy, maybe he’d be moving around a lot less… Or maybe not. He could also be an absolute asshole when he wanted to be.

The Old Man had been sitting at the kitchen table for what felt like hours. After a while Joanna started to think he’d drifted off and they’d be stuck there for the rest of the day, but then the chair he was in scraped across the floor and his heavy footsteps got closer to the closet. Joanna shut her eyes and worried her lower lip between her teeth, her breathing picking up the closer he came. If he opened the pantry door, they were dead. 

Distantly she heard the refrigerator door open, followed by the sound of clinking bottles as he rummaged around inside. Then there was a soft clink as he popped the cap off a bottle of beer and began trudging towards the hallway.

They were almost in the clear when Joanna accidentally brushed against Jacob. She was just trying to move her leg, she was starting to cramp up from being in the same position for so long, but she’d accidentally pushed herself forward and they ended up nose-to-nose. Joanna felt Jacob tense and she moved quickly, trying to give him more room, but ended up bumping the shelf directly behind her. Her breath caught in her throat as a line of jars started to shake and clank together. 

Time stilled as they waited to see if the noise was loud enough to draw attention to their hiding place. Joanna didn’t dare to breathe as she waited for the old man to turn around and thrust open the pantry door. To yell, and curse, and start throwing punches she was sure would leave bruises deep enough to keep Jacob out of school for weeks. 

Instead, she heard the old man grunt, mumble something about “damned rats” and continue trudging down the hallway. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. 

“Rats?” She squeaked. Jacob shushed her, clapping a hand over her mouth. The movement brought him closer, the toes of his shoes now touching hers, and Joanna felt her heart start racing all over again. He waited a moment to make sure they hadn’t been heard, and then she heard his clothes rustle as he moved, and suddenly his face was next to hers.

“It was one, over a month ago. I killed it. It’s fine,” Jacob whispered in her ear. His breath fanned over her face and down the side of her neck, and Joanna took a moment to be thankful that there was no light in the pantry so he wouldn’t be able to see how red her face was getting. They were close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off of his body, and Joanna did her best not to sigh at the comfort she felt at having him so close. Did he really not know what he was doing to her?

Her thoughts derailed when the yelling started. Old Man Seed hurled bitter insults and curses at his wife that made Joanna’s stomach drop. Mrs. Seed shrieked back at him and something breakable shattered against a wall, making Joanna jump. Jacob shifted impossibly closer, his entire body tense, as though he could shield her from what was happening just outside the closet door. There was a creak of wood next to her ear and Joanna knew he was gripping the shelves behind her, his anger growing more palpable as the yelling dragged on. 

Any comforting words that Joanna might have said she couldn’t say out loud without risk of the old man finding their hiding place, and she doubted Jacob would have appreciated them anyway. Instead she brought up a hand and rested her palm against the side of his face. The creaking stopped as her thumb stroked his cheek. The air between them was still tense, but the odd feeling in her stomach was more pleasant than not.

The yelling had grown louder now, venomous words echoed in the hallway, and Joanna held her breath as the bellowing voice of Old Man Seed shook the kitchen walls and something else was thrown and shattered in the living room. She didn’t breathe again until the front door slammed behind him.

Jacob heaves a sigh of relief that ruffles the hair around her face, tickling her nose and cheeks, and suddenly Joanna is reminded of how close he is, and the fact that it’s been exactly two weeks since the last time they kissed. Not that either of them would ever acknowledge it, it seemed.

They had kissed twice, once at her birthday and again when she told him she loved him, and despite the fact that she wanted to kiss him again, she just… hadn’t. In spite of the fact that he said he loved her too, and the fact that he’d kissed her back, the thought of kissing him again made her stomach twist and flutter to the point that she felt sick. The blame wasn’t entirely on her, though, considering he’d never made a move either.

Maybe he doesn’t want to?

Joanna feels her heart sink. Maybe that was it. After all, she had been the one to initiate their kisses both times. She’d also been the one to confess her feelings first. Stop it- Now is not the time! She scolded herself, shaking her head as though she could physically banish the thoughts from her mind.

“Okay,” Jacob’s voice is soft against her ear, and Joanna curses the pleasant jolt it sends down her spine. “I think it’s safe to leave. Let’s get outta here before he comes back.” 

Joanna nods, not trusting herself to speak, and Jacob leans back to reach for the door. Before he can reach for the handle she places a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

“Hey.” He turns to her and Joanna slides her hand down to lace her fingers with his, giving them a small squeeze. “You okay?”

She knows she probably shouldn’t be addressing what they’d just heard. She knows he’d rather not talk about his parents, and that it’d be easier to pull teeth than get him to talk about his feelings. But she wants him to know she cares, and wants him to know he can talk to her if he wants to.

He sighs and squeezes her hand in response. “M’fine.”

Except he isn’t. They both know it, but Jacob also knows Joanna won’t push him. And he’s right, Joanna doesn’t say a word, but she does tug on his hand and pull him towards her, wrapping her arms around his neck. He smiles against her shoulder and wraps his arms around her waist. Joanna pulls away and Jacob turns to the door once again. He’s just twisted the handle when something brushes against Joanna’s ankle. 

Her first thought -- in spite of Jacob’s insistence otherwise -- was that there was a rat in the closet with them. Joanna lurched forward and would have nearly tripped over Jacob in her scramble to get out had he not grabbed her wrists and hauled her backwards to keep her from crashing through the door. She collides with his chest, the air leaving both their lungs in a soft “oof”.

There’s a brief moment of silence as they catch their breath, and when Jacob looks down to make sure she’s okay his nose bumps lightly against her own. His breath leaves him again, ghosting over her jaw and raising goosebumps over her skin. Even in the dark Joanna can tell he’s looking at her, she can practically feel the intensity of his eyes on her face. Her entire body hums with anticipation and she wishes he would do something -- kiss her, pull away, shove her out the door, whatever -- anything to ease the hammering of her heart and the slightly queasy feeling in her stomach.

Just when she thinks she’ll have to be the one to make a move -- again -- his lips brush lightly against her own and she feels like her entire body is on fire. Jacob still holds her hands, and he strokes a thumb along the underside of her wrist, leaving a pleasant tingling sensation that has her pulse racing. The kiss was feather light, but it’s enough to leave her wanting more.

Joanna knows he’s close but can’t tell exactly where he is in the dark, so she misjudges just how close he is when she rises up on her toes to kiss him. Their teeth clack together painfully and Jacob makes a noise of surprise, his hand coming to rest against the side of her neck. He pulls back slightly and Joanna doesn’t have time to feel embarrassed before he’s on her again.

This kiss is deeper, hungrier, much more confident. Her hands are in his hair, and his arms are around her waist, and everything just feels so right that Joanna’s trying to remember why they waited so long to do this again. Jacob pulls her flush against his chest with one arm and he frees the other so he can cup a hand along the curve of her jaw, tilting her face upwards and making her head spin until she’s leaning all her weight onto him for support.

Okay, so, maybe she was wrong before. These are definitely not the actions of an uninterested friend. She sighs against his mouth, her nails dragging against the back of his scalp, and he nips at her bottom lip in response. The hand he has on her hip moves and she gasps as his fingers find a patch of skin where her shirt had ridden up in the midst of -- 

Joanna flinches as the pantry door creaks open and light floods the small room. She turns her wide eyes to the doorway -- her arms still around Jacob’s neck and his hand halfway up the back of her shirt -- to see Joseph looking equally as surprised to see them. It takes another couple seconds for him to fully register exactly what he’s seeing, but when he does Joseph’s face turns redder than Joanna’s hair.

“Uh- sorry- I’ll, uh… Sorry.” And the door was promptly shut, leaving them in darkness once more. Joanna listened to the sound of Joseph’s retreating footsteps and John’s soft cooing as she calmed her racing heart. Her arms were slack against Jacob’s neck, but his hands hadn’t moved, still holding her tightly to his chest. She cleared her throat in an attempt to hide some of the embarrassment in her voice.

“So, um, that was…” she bit her lip to stop from grinning.

“Yeah.” His tone is light, and if she could see his face properly she knows he’d be smirking.

“Why didn’t we do that sooner?” she asks jokingly, but her smile falters when he doesn’t answer. He shifts and clears his throat. “Jake?” 

There’s a brief silence before he says, “I didn’t know you wanted to.” 

Joanna blinks, surprised, but before she can say anything else he’s plowing ahead. 

“I’m not… I’m no good at this stuff, Jo. And I can’t exactly go to my parents for help, they’re not really role models for a healthy relationship. Shit, I just- I don’t know how to do this.” His hands squeeze her hips and she smiles.

“You were doing fine just a second ago.”

“Shut up.” The words are fond, with no real bite behind them, and Joanna can’t help but laugh.

Bringing her hands up to cup his face she makes sure she has his attention before she speaks.

“I don’t know how to do this either. There’s a lot that we’ll just have to learn together. But,” she leans forward and presses her forehead to his. “For future reference, if you wait that long to kiss me again we’re going to have a problem.” 

Jacob huffs a laugh and nods his head. “Okay.”

“Good. Can we get out of this closet now? Because I’m actually really hungry.” 

“You’re always really hungry.”

She pinches his side and he chuckles, making her smile as she turns and pushes open the door. But before she can step fully out of the pantry Jacob grabs her wrist, and when she turns he presses a quick kiss to her lips, smirking at the surprise on her face.

“Just trying to keep my promise,” was his only explanation as he moved around her to snatch some of John’s baby food off the counter. He turns and bumps the back door open with his hip, shooting her another lopsided smile.

“Don’t forget the napkins.” He jerks his chin towards the counter before disappearing out the door, and Joanna can’t keep the smile off of her face. 

She swipes the stack of napkins off the counter as she follows after him.

Maybe today could still be a good day after all.

[billy-the-hurricane]

17 from the prompt list?

Oooh nice. Sorry it took so long >.<

17. "I wish I'd never met you" "no.. You don't mean that"

It was fun for a while, fooling around with Steve Harrington. There had been some electricity in the air between them for months, ever since Billy moved in, and it lasted even after Hargrove almost knocked the air out of Steve for good. They hadn't really spoken to each other that much after that.. Loss of control. Mostly because Maxine and that damn nailed bat way too close to his balls was a good persuading technique. But Billy just.. That night fucked him up more than once for sure. His father laid his hand on him once, then another time when Billy came home at 2 am all drugged up and without his step sister. This argument was really bad. But the fight with Harrington made a good alibi in school when the teachers or students would ask about that painful looking bruise around his eye. Steve didn't go for his eyes the night before. But Harrington didn't say anything in school, and Billy didn't expect him to. It took Hargrove a couple of days to really understand and come to terms with just how dangerous he was becoming, how he probably wouldn't have stopped hitting Steve until his body was lifeless if it hadn't been for Maxine. And it scared the shit out of him. That rage was out of control, so he isolated himself more now. Didn't pick up as many fights in school, didn't grind against Steve in practice anymore. The only thing that did not change was how much he parties, drinks, smokes and fucks. And he's been doing a great job at avoiding Steve during those parties, until he wasn't anymore. Until Harrington was so wasted he wouldn't leave him alone, seeking him and clinging onto him constantly until eyes started narrowing on them. And Billy had dragged him outside in the coldness of February nights in Indiana, dragged him somewhere where no one would be and shoved Steve against the wall, but definitely with way less venom than he did in the past. This was more of a warning. He couldn't be seen with a boy like this, he wouldn't. He can't. And besides, what even the fuck was that? "the hell's your problem?" Billy asked, while Steve did his best to recollect himself against the wall behind him. "c'monnnn.. I just.. I want a hug and you look so huggable" Steve clumsily replied, giggling stupidly. "Jesus you're a mess, go home" Hargrove told him, stepping away to leave before he heard a sniff from Harrington. "can't. Came with someone, I don't have my car" Steve whined, using the opportunity of Billy stopping his walk to cling onto him again and act like a goddamn koala. And that's pretty much how Billy somehow found himself driving Baby Steve back to his unbelievably huge house. That's how Billy didn't say a word when Steve leant his head against him during the drive, and kept quiet when Harrington left one single kiss on his shoulder. But you would be ridiculous to think Billy helped Steve further than that. He left as soon as Harrington was inside his house, despite the boy's protests.

And they didn't speak about this for a while, Billy figuring Steve didn't even remember it, considering how fucking wasted he got. Until they were both at another party, so late there weren't many people left anymore, conscious ones at least. And Billy had sat by the pool in the backyard, letting his bare feet absent mindedly move around in the water. And the host turned the lights off some time ago, probably didn't even pay attention as to who could be left outside. So it was just Billy, and the Led lights in the pool faintly showing the features of his face. He'd sobered up, been feeling much better for maybe an hour or so, but stayed there, not really determined to go home before Neil leaves for work. And the silence was perfect, until it was broken. The sound of a body sitting next to him on the edge of a pool made itself heard, and Billy didn't look at first, kept focusing on his feet in hopes to avoid a conversation. "feeling blue?" Billy was asked, by no other than Harrington. And he must have looked surprised when he turned his head to look at Steve, because the other boy chuckled and shrugged. "I don't wanna go home either" Harrington continued, and Billy went back to looking at his feet. "I don't give a fuck" Billy mumbled, but he didn't really want Steve to leave, it didn't have the bite it used to have. "then why did you go through all the trouble of driving me home last time?" Steve asked, to Billy's utter surprise. "guess I'm not that big of an ass, I dunno" Hargrove replied with a shrug, lighting himself a cigarette. He took a quiet drag, set his world back in place and trying to ignore Harrington. He was too unstable, he didn't even know himself enough to know if he could just suddenly snap or not. He didn't want anything like that night in November ever again. "wanna come to mine? This way you're not going home, and I won't be alone. It's a win-win" Harrington offered, and Billy, for some fucking reason agreed. That's also how he found out that yet again, Steve didn't have his car, so Billy drove them back to Harrington's place. And Billy didn't say anything when the other placed a hand on his thigh during the ride. And he couldn't say he wasn't surprised when Steve took him to his bedroom like it was something they do, like Billy didn't almost kill him that night in November, and Billy found himself kissing Steve back that night. This is how his problems started.

It wasn't just a one time thing. They did it over and over, adding more each time. Kisses turned into caresses, caresses into undressing (and wow, Steve was huge), undressing into masturbation, then oral and penetrative sex. And that's probably the best thing Billy's been addicted to in his life, a pretty boy lost in the middle of nowhere, Indiana giving attention to a closeted Californian teenager longing the sexual freedom L.A was giving him. And they were just that. A casual thing, just sex. They barely even hung out aside of that at first. Then Steve just offered Billy to spend the night at his, ordered pizzas, watching movies, fucking, talking until they slept. And Billy's made bigger progress than ever this way. Learned how to not burn everything he touches and how to channel his rage and emotions a lot better. So it hit him like a brick when Hargrove realized he started crushing on his sex friend. Because Steve kept on being so kind, so open and just so good. Better than anything Billy's ever had. Enough to cry himself to sleep when Steve started opening up and talking about Nancy. Crying of frustration because she had something he could never have. She had a Steve he doesn't have, because boys don't date boys. Boys make mistakes, and even if that repeated mistake was nice, Hargrove knew this was all just one. And maybe he would've talked to Steve calmly about it, asking him not to bring his ex up anymore, but things took another turn.

Neil caught him crying one night. He came into his room without knocking, and Billy had forgotten to lock his door. Normal parents would comfort their child, Billy figured. But all he got was a slap across his face and a river of slurs that only made his crying worse. He couldn't go on with that Steve thing. It was making him emotional enough for his dad to see it, and it would be a matter of weeks before Neil knows a boy is the cause. And Billy doesn't want to go to the hospital again for it. Because boys don't love boys.

So when he met Steve that night, when Steve started kissing his necks and touching his sides, Billy had gently pushed him off. "don't." Billy told, and Steve's confusion was clear as he took a step back carefully, looking concerned. "what's wrong?" Harrington asked. And Billy.. Billy made so much progress, but right there, the best option seemed to give in to rage, get Steve to hate him to leave him alone. "what's wrong?" Billy repeated before chuckling lightly, trying to cover up a barely held together voice. "I don't want you anymore Stevie, you're no fun anymore" Billy told, trying not to lose his facade when he saw Steve's broken face. "thought I'd want that forever? Are you dumb or something? You're just like everyone else in this shithole. Good for a few fucks then it gets boring as hell" Billy said, leaning against the wall. "Billy-" Steve mumbled, before Hargrove cut him. "in fact, it's not so good, feels like I wasted time actually. You know what? I wish I'd never met you" the blond said, hiding away behind venom he didn't mean, to keep Steve away from him, to protect the both of them. Harrington's eyes were shiny and red as he swallowed hard, losing his composure before frowning. Before he planted his feet and shook his head. "No.. You don't mean that. I know you don't. I know what you're doing, you're trying to push me away" Steve answered, stepping back into Billy's space. "but if I was so boring, then why were you always coming back, huh? Sometimes you came without even me asking or offering. You made efforts, and I know you don't do these for a quick fuck" Harrington continued, poking Steve's chest. "and you've improved, and I watched it, and I know you enough now to see you're not sincere. So you can go, but you have to be sincere about it. I'll tell you a secret, and you'll tell me your reason" Steve imposed, Billy's mouth opening wordlessly. "I'm in love with you" Steve had told. Hargrove's eyes widened in disbelief, and yeah, pretty sure his heart just missed a beat or two.

"what?"

[all1e23]

Swallow [Pt.3]

Chapter: Scorched Hearts

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Old feelings can burn you no matter how deep they are buried. 

Warnings:  Possessive Bucky. Protective Clint. Protective Steve. Angst. Bucky being soft and a little bit of a jerk. He’s a jerk, but a soft jerk.  

A/N:   The long awaited chapter! Sorry, this took so long, but it’s finally here. Not a whole lot of happiness in this chapter, but I hope you still like! Send me love??? 

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam though! Thanks!*

Last night had not gone as anyone had hoped it would. 

Clint assumed getting you and Bucky in the same room would have led to some type of resolution, some sort of admission of love or hate. At this point he would take either, he was so tired of seeing you hurt. After you spent the night avoiding Bucky and then bolted out the front door without so much as a goodbye, Clint realized his usual ‘meddling brother’ antics weren’t going to work.

It wasn’t just Clint that was disappointed with how the night played out. Bucky had been confident it would only take seeing each other once to get the two of you on the road to recovery. That the pull between the two of you was still as strong as ever and you wouldn’t need more than one night to realize all the mistakes you both made. He would apologize and everything would right as rain.

Just like always.

This time was different though, and it wasn’t going to be like before.

Before you showed up that night, Natasha had tried to warn him it wouldn’t be that simple. Not with everything the two of you went through and not after the way you ran, determined to get as far away from him as you could. There wasn’t going to be an easy fix this time around. It wasn’t as if you fought over some run he had to go on or missing a date because of club business. If he wanted you back, it would take more than honeyed whispers in your ear.

Knowing all of that, a part of him still hoped when you finally laid eyes on him again, there would have been some indication that you loved him the way he loved you. All he saw was your naked wrist and all the pain you were trying so desperately to hide from him. You’ve never had to hide from him before, and he didn’t want you to start now.

The only person who knew exactly how last night was going to play out, was you. You knew your night was going to end in whiskey and tears the second you laid eyes on him. The headache and nausea you were feeling this morning were a result of not listening to your gut and staying as far away from the club and Bucky Barnes as you could.

Clint eyed you, humor dancing in his baby blues and a soft chuckle slipping from his lips as you stumbled out of your bedroom towards the coffee pot. You glared at him as you poured yourself a cup and attempted to smooth your hair down with your free hand. 

“Shut up, or I will disown you, brother.”

The loud rumble of a bike grew louder and came to a stop, from the sounds of it they stopped in your driveway. You quirked a brow at your brother who gave you a tentative smile as he set his own coffee cup down.

“I think this one’s for you.” He quipped.

“Me?” You asked. “What do you mean for me?”

“I don’t know, sis.” He replied, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Maybe something to do with drinking and driving, something like that might piss some people off.” He was still upset about last night, and you were guessing whoever was at the door was too.

You narrowed your eyes at him as a heavy-handed fist rapped against the front door. Clint walked towards the front door, and your eyes fell to your wrist, your tattoo was out in the open this morning, you quickly tugged the sleeves of Clint’s hoodie down and crossed your arms over your chest, grimacing at the state of you. Black leggings and an old Barnes Mechanics hoodie. That will make him regret leaving you. You had set your cup down on the counter and looked up right as Bucky stepped into the house and your heart stuttered just from the sight of him.

Stupid heart.

There were a few seconds of shared whispered between the two men and Bucky even chuckled at something Clint said, but you knew it was forced. You knew him better than anyone. Maybe even better than Steve.

Some parts of you are only meant to be seen by the other half of your heart.

His eyes landed you, and Bucky patted Clint’s shoulder on the blonds' way onto the porch. He stepped around Clint and heading straight towards you as he pulled his gloves off. Bucky always looked good but the way his black jeans were hanging low on his hips, his leather zipped tight around his chest. It was making your body tremble with want, you leaned back against the counter kitchen counter to keep yourself steady.

By the look in his eyes, Bucky wasn’t there because he was happy to see you -- this wouldn’t be a friendly visit.

“To what do I owe the honor of your presence this early morning, vice president?” The venom lacing your words would have cut him, deeply, but he was too pissed to be stung by your callous words. The second he saw you storming out of the clubhouse, Bucky had tried calling you. He spent the rest of his night trying to get you to answer your phone. Clint had tried. Natasha had tried. You refused to answer anyone and when Clint finally got fed up and came home to check on your you were passed out next to a bottle of Jack.

Bucky wasn’t too happy with you this morning.

“What the hell are you doing driving drunk?” Bucky asked, ignoring your dig at his patch. The very same patch he took for you, not that you knew that and maybe you didn’t even care. 

“You know better than to drink and drive. If you’re gonna drink, I could have taken you home. Or Peter. Or Tony. How about your brother? Forget about Clint?”

“Oh, for Christ's sake.” You grumbled under your breath. “I wasn’t drunk. I had two shots. I’ve watched you drink a hell of a lot more and drive your bike. With me on the back might I add.”

“That’s different!” Bucky shouted. “I know you're safe then! I called you probably fifty times  to make sure you were okay, and you wouldn’t answer your damn phone, Y/n!”

“Of course I didn’t answer! I’m not yours!” You shouted back. “You don’t get to come in here and yell at me because something didn’t go your way. If you wanted a say in my life, you shouldn’t have pushed me away!”

Bucky’s mouth set in a thin line and you knew he was holding back, there was something he wanted to say, but he wasn’t going to say it while Clint was on the front porch possibly listening to every word that the two of you were spewing at each other. He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. Bucky needed to calm down. This wasn’t going to be the way he won you back, and he knew that.

“I don’t want to fight with you, Y/n.” He conceded, observing you. Looking for any hint at what you’re feeling.

“Then what are doing here?”

“You left yesterday because…” He sighed and stepped closer to you, shifting from one foot to the other. He wasn’t sure if he should just blurt it out or be delicate. He was having a hard time reading you, and he hated it. He’s never had that problem before. He’s always known what you were thinking, how to talk to you and since you’ve been home, everything has been different.

You’ve been different.

“What’s the matter? Hard to say it to my face?” You asked, jealousy souring your words. “Guess it’s easier when she’s curled up on your lap, and you can’t see my face because your head is buried in her tits, huh?” You could hear how jealous you sounded the more you went on and judging by the smirk on Bucky’s face he heard it too.

Dumb handsome jerk!

“If you would have stuck around instead of letting your jealousy get the best of you, you would have witnessed me pushed her off my lap.” He leaned forward closing the small distance that separated you and bumped his nose against yours, whispering. “I’ve got no interest in anyone curling up on my lap but you, pretty girl.”

“Sure have a funny way of showing it.” You murmured back, voice cracking as you placed your hand on his leather-covered chest.

“Give me a break!” Bucky groaned and took a step back from you, giving you the space you wanted. “I was a kid, and you were asking a lot of a twenty-two-year-old that was just handed a shit ton of responsibility overnight.”

“You asked first if I recall.” You blew out a shaky breath and met his eyes. “Doesn’t matter now, does it?”

“It sure as hell does matter! You’re still hurt and I--” He stopped himself, reminding himself to calm down before he said something he was going to regret. His nerves were getting the best of him again. That’s the way it’s always been with you. The more time he spends wrapped up in you, the more he begins to unravel. How was he supposed to make you see how sorry he was, how right you were for each other if you kept looking at him like you that?

As if you wanted to be around anyone, anything but him. 

“I don’t wanna talk about the damn club girl. I’m not interested in her. I’m only interested in you and how to fix us. How to get you back.” He reached out and grabbed your arm tugging you back against him. 

“You really need me to say it?” He asked in a soft whisper.

You were so close to him you had to tilt your head back to meet his eyes. You shrug slightly in response, not sure if you wanted to hear what he was about to say or not.

His forehead rested against yours anchoring himself in your eyes and trying to gather some semblance of strength. It didn’t use to be this hard to talk to you, but after everything, it seemed some things were going to take longer to restore.

“You’re still my swallow, pretty girl.” He breathed, his eyes locked on yours, glimmering with his nerves. “I should’ve run after you. I was a fuckin’ dumbass, baby. I knew it was a mistake the second you walked out of the door, but I was a stubborn dick. I thought I was doing what was right by you.”

“What does that mean? Doing right by me?” You asked, confused. That didn’t make any sense at all. How could hurting you the way he did have been doing what was right by you?

“I--” Bucky froze. Regret filling his features as he realized what he let slip. He didn’t want to get into that now. He couldn’t tell you like this, not when Clint was hanging around and who knew where Natasha was spying from. 

“We can talk about that another day, babydoll.”  Of course, you could. After he had time to fabricate some pathetic tale to try and trick you into forgiving him. There was nothing to talk about, and you knew that. You shook your head and took a step back from him forcing his hands off of you.

It was all just sweet words and utter bullshit.

“You know, I think my schedule is fully booked. I won’t have the time. You should take that little girl of yours out and tell her all your lies. She looked like a good time. I especially liked the ‘biker slut’ stamped on her lower back. Your daddy would be so proud of you.”  You hated what everything you were saying. The thought of him touching someone else made you sick but you were angry and hurt, and it fell out of your mouth without a second thought. The flash anger that filled Bucky’s eyes let you know you went too far, bringing his dad into this stupid, pointless fight pushed Bucky over the edge and right into pissed off.

Bucky nodded towards your sweater covered wrist, hiding the pain behind his anger, he snapped. “Since you removed your tattoo I guess I’m free to do what I want, huh? Maybe I will. I wonder what her ass would look like with a swallow on it.” 

Silence filled the house as his words hung in the air and settled over both of you. He wanted to take it back. God, did he want to take it back the moment he said it but seeing those tears in your eyes? That was too much for him to take. Damn, he hated making you cry, and it’s happened more often than he would like to admit.

“Y/n--”

“I’m sure you two will be really happy together.” You stuttered as tears spilled over onto your cheeks. “I hope she handles your bullshit better than I could.”

“Darlin’.” He reached out for your wrist, but you pulled away before he ever got close to touching you and he sighed. “You know I didn’t mean that. No one else--”

“Please just leave, James.” You mumbled, bottom lip trembling as you tried to hold back your tears, not wanting him to have the satisfaction of knowing he can still make you cry after all this time.

James. It was like ice in his veins. He hated the way it sounded on your lips. It sounded wrong, and he would do just about anything to take the pain and anger out of your voice. There was no chance to fix what he had done, to apologize. You were gone, hiding away in your room before he could blink.  

“Fuck me.” He groaned as he bounded out of the house, avoiding eye contact with Clint on his way out the door. Bucky knew he heard everything that was said the second he saw how tense Clint was leaning against the porch railing. Clint crossed his arms over his chest as Bucky stomped down the front steps towards his bike.

“Way to fuckin’ go man. That how you won her over the first time?” He called after him, his voice was light and full of snark, but Bucky could hear the malice under all of it.

“Shut it, Clint.” He snapped, slipping his gloves on and straddling his bike. He took a chance and looked up to meet Clint’s eyes. He ignored the angry dwelling in them and nodding towards the house. “Go check on her, please. I-- make sure she knows I didn’t mean it. There’s never been anyone but her. Never will be anyone but her.”

Clint’s eyes softened, only a fraction but they did soften.“Yeah, I know man. Everyone knows it’s only ever been Y/n.” He eyed the brunet and finally asked the question everyone has been thinking since you came home. “You thinkin’ she can save your broken ass?”

“She’s the only one that can save me, Clint,” Bucky replied instantly. No hesitation, because he knew without a doubt it was true. He didn’t need to think about it. You were the only one that could bring him back from the shell of a man he’s become. 

“Listen, I’ll see you at chapel in a few hours. Steve wants everyone in. We’ve got some shit to talk about.” His wrist flexed slightly, and the bike roared to life under him, ending the interrogation Clint had started only a moment ago.

“Buck?” Clint shouted over the rumble of his bike, waiting till he got the taller man's attention before continuing. “You make her cry like that again, and you and I are gonna have a problem. I won’t be bringing it to the table. We clear?”

He gave a curt nod and pulled out of the driveway without another word. He had no intention of making you cry again, threat or not.

“Bug?” Clint knocked on your door and slowly nudged it open, not waiting for an answer. He had planned on asking if it was okay to come in, making sure you even wanted company, but the second he saw you laying on your bed with tears streaming down your face, he didn’t care if you wanted him there or not. He was by your side in a flash and collapsed next to you in bed, pulling you into his arms and letting you hide your tears in his shirt.

“It’s okay, bug.” He cooed softly in your ear. “I’m right here. Let it all out. It’s gonna be okay.”

“He asked me you know? Five years ago he asked me and now look at us.” Your voice was already hoarse from how raw your throat had gotten, and it only made Clint’s urge to beat Bucky into the ground that much stronger. It took a lot for him to keep his voice neutral, if you thought he was upset with Bucky, it would only add to what you were feeling -- and truthfully, he was worried you would run again. That was the last thing Clint wanted. 

He could keep his anger in check for you.

“Asked you what bug?” He pushed gently after you fell silent. He wasn’t sure what you were mumbling through all your tears, but you certainly had his attention. 

You sniffled, stuttered and sucked in a trembling breath as you attempted to calm yourself enough to answer. Every time you thought you were relaxed enough to answer another wave of sadness would rush over you, your mind racing to thoughts of who Bucky was with and where he went when he drove off, leaving you behind once again.  You choked out another soft sob hiding your face in Clint’s shirt, trying your best to avoid crying all over his leather.

He wouldn’t care if you did, he only wanted to help and if that meant ruining his leather then so be it.

“Talk to me, Y/n,” Clint begged as your silent sobs continued. “I’m freaking out here. I want to help, but I don’t know how, sis.” 

A small smile tugged at your lips as you tightened your hold on the fabric that was twisted in your fist, stretching and wrinkling his shirt. It took a few more minutes of stuttering breaths before you were able to stop your tears and put yourself in the right headspace to answer him.

“Right-- right before dad died Bucky asked me to marry him. He told me to take the weekend to think about it because it would be a big deal, being married to the club president and then the accident happened--” You blew out a shaky breath and wiped the few stray tears away.

“--And, well, here we are.”

Clint closed his eyes and leaned his cheek on top of your head. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but he was right to give you time to think bug. You just lost dad, and Buck just took over the club a few months before that. I’m guessing he didn’t like that you said no? Is that why you left? He gave you ‘it’s all or nothin’’ speech, and you ran?”

Oh, how you wished that was how it all happened.

“I said yes.” You whispered so softly Clint wasn’t even sure he heard you right, but the second he saw those tears returning and spilling over onto your cheeks he knew he had. You had said yes to marrying Bucky. That didn’t help explain what happened, it only added to his confusion.

“You said yes? Then why did you leave? Did he -- did he sleep with one of the girls or something?” Clint’s brain was going a thousand miles a minute. He was replaying that night in his head. You were clinging to Buck all night like you had since your dad died. Then you two disappeared. Next thing he knew you had taken off with Nat and Steve sent Clint home to check on you. You could have easily caught him with someone else before you had a chance to tell him yes.

“He’s never cheated on me. Bucky wouldn’t cheat on me.” 

Clint blew out a breath and tightened his arms around you as the tension eased out of him. He loved Buck like a brother so it would be a shame if he had to beat the life out of him for cheating on his sister.

“What happened, bug? Did you change your mind after dad?”

You shook your head. It wasn’t the whole story. It was enough for now, and you were too tired to talk anymore today.

--------

Natasha somehow managed to calm Clint down before he went to meet the club for chapel. You hadn’t been in the room, but you had heard her soft, soothing whispers, telling him to calm down and remember that mistakes were made by more than one person and Bucky wasn’t entirely at fault. You weren’t sure if she was referring to you or to Steve, but either way, it didn’t matter who she was blaming. She was right. The things you did, the choices you made that night, all of it was worse than what Bucky did. You let your anger and your pride rule your decisions, and it left you alone and heartbroken.

If you had just taken a few minutes to really think about things and the consequences of your actions, maybe you could have fixed things before they spiraled out of control. Perhaps you wouldn’t have lost Bucky entirely if you had just talked to him instead of listening to all those prideful whispers in your head. 

Placing blame and pointing fingers was pointless now and it wouldn’t have made a difference who was more at fault. None of that would change the outcome. It looked as if the two of you were destined to end up here, broken and in love with a reality neither of you could have.

You had spent the afternoon sulking in your room when Natasha had stormed up, yanked you up out of bed and handed you a list of things they needed from the market. She had to get to the club and Clint was out of coffee, if that wasn’t rectified by morning, there would be chaos in the Barton house. You had a feeling Natasha was only forcing you out of the house in an attempt to stop your moping.

It sorta worked not that you would ever tell her that. You had picked up several bottles of wine, grabbed Clint’s coffee and were now staring at the stacks and stacks of baked goods in the bakery. Maybe some chocolate treats will keep Clint calm and prevent him from killing the man you love. Or, loved? Whatever he was to you at that moment.

“Hey.” A deep voice called out to you from across the pile of brownies, stopping your internal debate over fudge covered brownies or cookies and cream, you glanced up and found Eddie Brock smiling at you over the stack of baked goods, no leather this time, but he still looked handsome.

“Y/n, right?” He asked, charming grin in full effect.

“Yeah, Y/n.” 

You gave him a small smile in return and gestured to your own face, referencing his split lip and busted nose. You winced when you noticed the deep bruising around his nose and just how deep the cut on his lip was. Bucky had not held back in the slightest by the looks of things. 

“I’m sorry about that. I feel like that’s kinda my fault.” You confessed softly. He chuckled and shrugged it off as if it was nothing that his nose probably needed to be reset thanks to her overprotective boyfriend-- or, ex-boyfriend. 

“It’s okay.” He said, sporting an easy smile. “I should have known someone as pretty as you wouldn’t be single. Of course, your old man had to be the crazy hothead of the group. Just my luck.”

What is with bikers, hm? Did they all think these stupid lines turned women into a whimpering mess? There was only one man that could turn you into a whimpering mess, and he certainly didn’t need to use a cheesy line to do so.

Still, this one was kind of cute. He was no James Barnes but he was cute.

“He’s not actually mine.” Eddie raised his brow, and you shrugged in response. “It’s a long story, but you should know I’m not really available either.” 

Because your heart belonged to someone else even if you didn’t want to admit that out loud and that was not something he needs to know. The fact of the matter was, Bucky still very much occupied your head and your heart. There wasn’t room for anyone else, no matter how cute. 

“If it hadn’t of been Buck, my brother would have kicked your ass.”

“Damn. The blonde with the purple bike right?” You nodded, and he grinned playfully as he flexed for you. “I’m pretty tough. You’re counting me out that easy? You think he could kick my ass?”

“I mean, yeah.” You grinned. “My brother is a badass. How do you think I got to be this amazing?”

He dropped his arm and leaned over the table, cocky grin curling up the edge of his lips and whispering only loud enough for you and the baked goods to hear, “Pretty sure you got there on your own. No man helped you get where you are.”

And, that was the first time your heart had flipped for someone that wasn’t Bucky Barnes. You weren’t sure how you felt about that, but you weren’t given a chance to linger on the thought for long.

“Y/n.” Steve’s sharp voice cut through the air and silenced the conversation. He walked over to stand next to you and crossed his arms over his broad chest. “Eddie.” He narrowed his eyes at the shorter man. “I think it’s time you move along. She’s spoken for.” 

You meet Eddie’s eyes, your apology was written in them along with an ‘i told you so.’

Eddie’s eyes flicked from yours back to Steve’s, and you knew he was about to say something stupid. “I think she can make her own decisions, Rogers. We aren’t in your clubhouse. You don’t have jurisdiction here.”

You winced at his choice of words. Yep. Something stupid.

That wasn’t going to go over well at all. Steve dropped his arms and pushed you behind him as if he was protecting you from something, he leaned over the stack of packaged muffins and brownies glaring hard at the other man. “Leave. Now.” He growled. “Stay away from Y/n. If I see you around her again, I’ll show you just how far my jurisdiction goes.”

Thankfully Eddie had the good sense to shut his mouth and walk away. No one wanted to cause a scene in the middle of the market. Might have had something to do with that fact that there were three other club members parked right outside ready to jump up and stand by their president’s side.

Odds weren’t exactly in Eddie’s favor.

“What the hell are you doing?” Steve snipped at you once they were alone. He must have lost in damn mind in the last five years if Steve thought he could talk to you like you’re just another club girl. He knew better.

“Excuse me?” You snapped back and lifted up your basket full of food. “I was trying to buy some chocolate chip muffins and brownies because Clint can’t eat anything healthy, but apparently I can’t get away from asshole bikers no matter where I go.”

He looked like he was about to yell at you, but you stepped forward, lowering your voice, “I’d watch what you’re about to say, Steven Grant.” He took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair, anger flashed in his eyes for just a second before they settled back to their standard, calmer blue.

“Did you forget the rules? What’s expected of you?” He asked, tone gentler than it had been a moment ago, but it was the meaning behind the words, not the tone. You narrowed your eyes at the man before you. He wasn’t Steve right now, he was the club president, and you had no patience for the MC president. 

“No. I haven’t forgotten. I’m not trying to date anyone let alone date another biker.” You hissed back at him. “I haven’t forgotten anything, Steven. Have you forgotten? Or are you just planning on hiding your bullshit lies from everyone, Bucky included?”

“Y/n--” He sighed, and his whole frame softened as he pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. It’s more complicated than you realize and you won’t fully understand until you talk to Buck. Actually, sit down and talk to him.”

This wasn’t the first time someone had told you to talk to Bucky since you’ve been home and frankly, you were done with all the secrets and all the bullshit. What the hell was everyone talking about? How could it more complicated than it already was?

“Why don’t you come by and at least listen to him.” Steve nudged you with a sly grin on his face.“Clint said your car was acting up, the guys can work on it for free and the two of you can talk. Clear the air.”

“With everyone watching? No thanks.”

“Well...” He bent down and whispered, “You could let Buck take you for a ride. I know how much you like being on the back of his bike.” Steve grinned as your eyes went wide and you shifted your feet nervously. 

“Pretty sure he missed it more.” Added Steve at sight of your nerves.

You had missed it. A lot. More than the bike you just missed being close to Bucky like that, being able to wrap your arms around him as tight as you wanted, the way you could nuzzle your nose into the crook of his neck, and slip one hand into his open shirt so it could rest against his skin right over his heart.  

Despite how much your heart ached to go back and have all of that again, you weren’t sure that was even an option anymore. Especially after this morning.

“Look, I’ll think about it okay?” You said as you punched his arm lightly. “But you can’t just scare away every man that dares to talk to me. He was only being friendly, and it’s kind of my fault he’s going to need some rhinoplasty.”

Steve snorted and shook his head. “Bucky would disagree with you. Stay away from Eddie Brock.” He ordered, going serious again. “He’s not a good guy like you think he is and we both know if Buck had seen you two talking, it wouldn’t have ended so civilly.”

You couldn’t argue with that.

“I’ll make sure the club girls are gone this time.” He said with that dumb know it all smirk.

“Jesus.” You breathed in annoyance. “Don’t you two have a club to run instead of spending your days gossiping? Does he tell you everything?”

Steve’s grin widened as he walked past her towards the registers. “Oh,” He shouted back at you. “Nice tattoo.”

You look down at your wrist at the completely visible swallow, flashing like a neon sign on your wrist. You close your eyes at the sound of Steve’s deep chuckle. “Talk to him, Y/n. What the two of you had doesn’t simply go away because you ran away, and I think we both know that.”  

Steve was a giant jerk, you’ve officially decided. A giant jerky jerk face. You had no idea why you ever liked him. You open eyes and look back down at the swallow on your wrist. You would never admit it to his smug face, but Steve was right. Feelings like yours don’t just vanish because you begged and pleaded with your heart.

Five years was long enough.

It was time to clear the air and put all of this behind you.

You both deserved the truth, and you were going to get it out of him if it killed you.

Previous // Next

[afewmarvelousthoughts]

Stay Ch. 13

Master List

Pairing: Natasha X Reader (Female)

Summary: You have a gift, the ability to see other people’s innermost secrets. For years you used it to gather intel for the highest bidder when you take on The Widow. After she becomes more than a mark the two of you spend years stealing moments. Post snap you wait in your designated meeting place, look back on the sordid past you share with the woman you love and hope against everything that she’s still alive.

Warnings: Angst, light violence.

A/N:  I have been SO excited to share this with y’all. I straight up almost posted it earlier in the week because to me this is when their story really shifts and just so much is coming. 

I hope y’all enjoy! 

Tags are open!

@mywinterwolf @disagreetoagree @breezy1415 @peachthatdrinkslemonade @5aftermidnight @jeromethepsycho @marvel-randomness @daniellajocelyn @katecolleen @yanginginthere @wonderlandmind4 @piensa-bonito @for-the-love-of-the-fandom @lesbian-girls-wayhaught @siriuslycloudy2

- Post Snap -

The sound of that hotel door in New Orleans reverberates in your ears even here in the present. You sit in the windowsill, thankful this place still had windows that could be opened, and puff perfect smoke rings into the cool night air.

Old regrets bubble up. Maybe if you had been able to swallow your pride, work things out then and there, you’d be in a much different place now. Maybe she’d be here in your arms and not out somewhere in this burning world… Maybe, maybe, maybe.

It would be easy to drive yourself crazy thinking about all the may have beens that have piled up over the years. Regret got you nothing, you remember telling your team that. No point in mourning the past, but here you were. Hypocrite.

Regardless, you didn’t make it to January.

- November 2006 -

After a month or so it hurt less. You knew she was out there doing what she needed to and you were making money like a fucking mad woman.

Admittedly not being with her may have been soothed by the revolving door your bed had become. So what? You were having a good time, had the cash to burn, why not spend it on beautiful women and good booze?

It had been a particularly wild couple of weeks. The job you just wrapped put you smack in the middle of Amsterdam’s Red Light district and… well… you weren’t sad about it. If more jobs were likes this one, you’d go to hell with a smile on your face and damn good stories to tell the devil.

The night before you leave you wake up panicked. A dream so fucking real you were confused when consciousness came barreling into you. Practically pushing the two women off your bed you stumble to your duffle for your phone, hands shaking.

You hadn’t checked the voicemail. It wasn’t the first time you’d forgotten for more than a few days. Nothing was ever there. For some reason that dream… Natasha running, scared, panicked… you could feel it in your bones.

The women ask what’s going on and you tell them to shut up as you dial the codes with trembling fingers.

“Palais.” Natasha’s voice was trembling, breathless, scared. Left over a week ago. Panic pulses out of every pore on your body. The phone slides from your grasp and you hit your knees.

“What’s happening?!” You hear one of the women scream. 

It’s all so far away. The other starts to sob, thick choking sobs. Both on the brink of full-fledged panic attacks. While you... are strangely calm, feeling your emotions and yet… not. Turning to them you stare in shock.

Somehow you know you’ve done this. How you don’t fully understand. But they’re trapped in your emotions, their confusion making them all the more terrified. You can’t blame them. You also can’t fucking care.

“Get out,” you growl at them both.

“But… what’s…”

“Get. Out.” Quickly they slip into their clothes and run out, still scared out of their minds.

Within the hour you’re out of the hotel and on your way to the airport. Any other time you’d drive, easier to stay off the radar but it was 11 hours and you couldn’t wait that long. You book the first flight out. 

Five hours later you’re tearing into the doors of the hotel, the strange sense of deja vu hitting you hard.

It’s early but you know if she was here she would be in the bar. Still you check with the front desk for Nancy Rustin, your agreed name for her to use, nothing. You feel that same panic rise in you like it did in Amsterdam and you bring it in. A hotel lobby freaking like the women had would be newsworthy and not something you had the time for.

You slam back a whiskey neat at the bar and another, the warmth calming your nerves just a little bit. The third one you sip trying to figure out what to do.

If she was… no. You refuse to believe that, can’t allow yourself to go down that road. Instead, you start to plan just what strings you need to pull to figure out where the fuck she was. Whoever had her wouldn’t be standing for long, because you’d burn the world to get her back… You had to… had to tell her you loved her… Why hadn’t you just said it when she left in New Orleans? Now…

A man slides onto the stool next to you and you bristle. There’s a whole open bar and he just had to sit beside you. You’re about to let him have it when he orders a vodka neat. It’s a normal enough order but it packs salt into the wound nonetheless, sucking the words from you.

From your peripheral you see him take a sip and look at you. An emotion rolls off him. Apprehension? Disapproval? Curiosity?

“Palais,” he says matter of factly.

Your heartbeat kicks up but you remain facing forward. After taking a sip of your drink you respond, “Very good, you know where ya are. Want a fuckin’ gold star?” You aren’t sure why you let your natural accent show but you do.

He snorts, “She said you had a mouth.”

You slide a sidelong venomous glare to him, “Who?” It’s practically a hiss. You’re already formulating ways to kill this man right here.

“We have a mutual friend?”

“I don’t have friends.”

“No?” He sips his drink, obviously not enjoying the taste. “How about someone who’s more than that?” You say nothing.

Reaching into your pocket you pull out a few bills, grab your bag and walk out of the hotel. The man hot on your heels. You turn down an alley and as soon as he’s close enough you pull your gun. His hands are up a smirk on his face.

“Hey, let’s take a second here,” he’s not projecting any kind of fear. Actually, he’s almost too calm.

“You have exactly five to tell me where the fuck she is before I blow that smile off your face.”

“She’s safe.”

“Not good enough. Three.”

“If I was lying you could tell, right? So why don’t you work your magic trick before shooting me.” He lowers to his knees, “I’m trying to help. Just… look.”

Cautiously you approach him, gun still drawn. Going behind him you press the barrel to his temple with your right and press your left to the other side of his head. Not enough to harm, just to pull information. Focusing on one thing, her. 

Natasha, looking tired but smiling fills your mind. “Y/N, I’m ok, I swear I’m ok baby. You can trust Clint. He’ll bring you to me. I’m telling him this so you’ll believe him. Oh, and when you’re done say the word pineapple, he doesn’t believe you can do what I said. I love you.”

You release him and lower your gun, tears stinging in the back of your eyes. Nothing but honesty and determination radiates from him. He’s legit.

“Fuck,” he rubs his temples, “that really does suck.”

“Pineapple,” you say barely audible.

“Huh?” He looks at you, “Sorry, shot hearing.” Now you notice the barely visible high tech hearing aids in his ears.

“Pineapple.”

A smile fills his face, “Jesus Christ. That’s pretty damn cool.” He stands slowly extending his hand, “Clint.” You take it and get a flash of a rural house, countryside, a brunette woman with kind eyes, arrows. This man is like an open book.

“Y/N.”

“Good to meet you.” His hands are calloused and you get the distinct feeling that he’s military of some sort. “I realize it’s asking a lot to-”

“I’ll go where ever you want.”

“Oh. I had a whole speech prepared and everything. Didn’t think you’d make this easy.” He shrugs, “Well come on then.”

On cue, a black nondescript sedan pulls up and he opens the back passenger door, you can see the barrier between the front and back seats, no handles on the interior of the doors. Fuck.

“Nothing personal just can’t be too careful,” he says, a weak smile on his face. It doesn’t matter. He knows where she is, you’ll play along for now. 

Your voice is soft and sweet as you toss your bag ahead of you into the back seat, “Understandable.” If she told him you can read people she likely also told him about some of the other tricks up your sleeve.

“Oh, and Clint,” he turns to you releasing the door. 

You slide his feet from under him sending him to the ground. Pinning him you press your right hand to his forehead, his eyes wide with panic. Good, she did tell him. There's the sound of feet as the driver rushes up behind you but he signals for them to stand down.

Leaning down you hiss in his ear, “If she’s not alright, I’ll burn your little farmhouse to the fuckin’ ground with that pretty brunette inside. We clear?”

“Crystal,” Clint growls out. He’s like a fortress now, actively fighting to shut you out.

“Excellent,” you stand smiling big and extend your hand to him. Suspiciously he eyes you before taking your hand and pulling himself up.

You push past the visibly confused woman who’s gun hangs limply in her hand. “Let’s get goin’ then.” As soon as you’re in the back seat she slams the door.

Admittedly you didn’t expect to be driving this long but 3 hours later you’re desperate for a pit stop. Two whiskeys plus the gallon of coffee on the flight meant you had to pee. Now.

“Can y’all even hear me up there?” The barrier was clear, maybe bullet-resistant glass of some kind, and you hadn’t heard anything from the front the whole time.

“Yes.” The woman’s tone is clipped.

“Good. How much longer we gonna be on this joy ride?”

“Another hour at least,” Clint responds. You note that the driver glares at him as if she didn’t approve of him answering you.

“Ah, well, any chance for a pit stop before then?”

“No.”/“Yes.” The driver and Clint respond at the same time.

“We are not stopping,” the woman sounds like she’s about to throttle Clint.

“That’s fine,” you say and watch her shoulders relax. “As long as you’re not the one having to clean up later.” She catches your smirk in the rearview and woo, if looks could kill.

Violently the car jerks to the side of the road and you slam into the driver’s side door. “What the hell?”

She gets out and flings the door open, “Should have worn a seat belt.” There’s the whisper of a grin on her face as you rub your left arm. “Neither of us have to go. There’s the woods.” The look on her face isn’t quite smug but it’s almost there.

You laugh, “Girl, you barkin’ up the wrong tree if you think my country ass is too prim to piss in the woods.” Quickly you stride toward the trees.

“Agent,” she says, voice low and you freeze. “Agent Hill. I’m not your girl.” Slowly you turn back to her. “And I suggest you don’t run, Oracle.” Your blood runs cold.

“Am I under arrest agent?”

“Not exactly.”

“Hmm.” You weigh your options. If they could just get you to Natasha as was promised you figured you both had a good chance of slipping them. If you ran… well if they had her and who knows what they may do…

“Well, if you’re done posturing, Agent Hill. I have some private business to attend to. Unless you’re wanting to accompany me, I’ll be back in a minute.” You turn back toward the woods and she doesn’t follow.

Once you’re done, you walk a few paces further into the trees and lean against a trunk for a minute thinking. Agent Hill didn’t specify exactly who she was an agent for. She’s clearly American unless it’s a ruse. But given that Clint is most definitely American you’re going to bet it’s not. Sure they could be with any number of U.S. agencies but your gut is telling you just who this is. If you’re right… this is very bad.

You stride back to the car, “So, Agent,” you practically spit the word, “we headin’ to some kind of S.H.I.E.L.D. safe house in Europe or are you toting me back to the good ol’ U.S.A.?” Her brows lift just a touch in surprise but otherwise, she appears unfazed. “Guess it’ll be a surprise then,” you say as you get back in the car.

Almost two hours later you pull into what seems to be an old abandoned airport. Clint opens your door.

“The states it is,” you quip looking over at Agent Hill. She says nothing and begins striding to a hangar. You grab your bag and follow Clint.

Before getting on the jet Agent Hill turns to you, “I’ll need all weapons you have on your person, Oracle.” You stare at her for a minute, curious if she will try to physically remove them if you don’t comply.

“You can give them over freely or spend the flight in shackles. Your choice.”

Giving her a slight smile you begin to disarm. Weapons were good and all but you didn’t need them to be a threat. The way Clint looks at you shows he knows this but she doesn’t. Interesting.

Not moving toward her you hold out your knives and gun, “Here.” She rolls her eyes but takes the bait coming to grab them. Your fingers just graze hers.

“I wouldn’t have pegged you for a Maria.” The look she flashes you is murderous. You smile smugly as Clint restrains a small laugh. It never got old using something so simple as their own name to throw people. “Suits you though.” Unfortunately, she’s too good to take your bait this time and simply turns practically storming into the jet.

“Hill didn’t believe it either. What Nat said you could do,” Clint says standing bravely next to a woman that threatened him five hours ago. You bristle a bit at his casual mention of Natasha.

“Good. The less people who believe in it the better off I am,” he nods in agreement and leads the way to the jet.

You’ve never been on something so advanced. Despite yourself, you’re a little in awe. You stand in the middle of it all gawking.

“Sit,” Hill barks pointing to a bucket seat near the back. “Buckle up if you want I don’t care either way. And if you hurl it’s your mess to clean up. Got it?”

You sit down and lounge like a cat looking up at her, “Got it, Maria.”

“Agent. Hill,” she spits.

A chuckle slips from you at her reaction, “You don’t like me much do you, Agent?”

“No,” with that she heads to the pilot seat.

A few minutes later you feel the jet start to roll forward. The takeoff is so abrupt you do feel more than a little nauseous but you keep it down, not willing to give in. Once it’s passed your mind focuses on what the hell you’re walking into.

Whatever it was if she was there… it would be worth it.

[eclecticminded]

Stripping Bare

@madpanda75 asked: Ok! I finally picked an idea for the giveaway story request! What if you’re working undercover as a stripper during a stakeout and Barba (who you’ve always had a thing for) sees the footage which leads to the two of you hooking up 😉 Maybe the reader shows Barba some of her moves??

Girl yes! This was fun to write, and makes me want to invest in a pole for my fat ass. Here we go! Hope you like!

Words: 1940

You go undercover as a stripper, Rafael likes what he sees.

Warnings: Sex. Brief mention of torture and murder. Creep guys.

Tags: @southsiderepresent @glimmerglittergirl @madpanda75  @southern-magnolia @katmstanton @esparza-army @sweetsummertime99  @obfuscateyummy @lifeisbetterwithbarba  @lyssa1385  @hux-me-up   @bowieisawizard @sleepylunarwolf @mrsrafaelbarba anyone else ask! Also I have a Kofi (link in blog description) if anyone wants to donate!

When you took the pole dancing for fitness class while in college, you never expected to love it so much. Never expected to have one installed in your apartment. And you sure as hell never expected to be going under cover as one. But you had the skill set and could kick ass, so here you were. Ricky Rogers, Double R as he was known on the street, owned a less than reputable strip joint. He was selling his girls to be a part of torture snuff films, and one of them barely made it. Barely.

 Elise was no longer able to speak but she wrote pages upon pages of what happened to her, and what dirty dealing Double R was up to. Only problem, you needed cold hard facts, not just her words. Fin was trying to use his old vice connections to get a girl to go under for the squad, but no one wanted to work Double R’s joint. That’s where you came in.

 It started off as a joke, you mentioned you took a pole dancing class and befor you knew it you were out buying pasties and fishnets. Fin went undercover with you as a patron, you had a camera in the necklace you wore, but he was there for back up and additional surveillance. He was essentially your handler. Every night you worked, Fin got a private lap dance and you updated each other on the situation.

 Rumor had it that Double R was posting about having a new perky toy for sale, and wouldn’t you know it, the ad fit your description.  After that night you noticed Nick, Mike, and Sonny occasionally in the crowd. All four men had camera glasses, and Liv was watching nearby with Amanda. Hell even Rafael was there, making sure everything was by the book. At least that’s what he said; really he wanted to see you in action.

 Towards closing before your set, Double R told you there was a special private dance for you after you left stage. It was go time. Once you were on stage with Lana Del Rey blaring around you, that stress faded away. For the next thirty minutes you got to live it up one last time. You spun around the pole teasing the audience, getting them ready. Climbing to the top of the pole, you slowly slide down while money fell around you.

  Once you were back on the ground, you bent over, grasping the pole and shaking your ass. With a leap and a little luck, your legs held you up while you leaned backwards and spun slowly. The bright flashing lights made you dizzy and you dropped to your knees during your second to last song. Fin caught your eye and you sexily crawled towards him, he raised and eye when you pulled him forward by his tie.

 “I’m meeting a special client after this, its go time,” you whispered in his ear and he nodded.

 “Liv says be careful and remember we got your back,” he tucked a few ones in your thong and you went back to performing for the crowd. As you put on your grand finale, you saw Mike head to the bathrooms, and back entrance. Nick was hanging by the private dance booths. Sonny was by the front at the bar. And Fin stood his ground next to the stage.

 After you were off stage and the money tucked away safe, Double R came for you. His grip was rough and made your skin crawl. Every instinct said to punch him and run, but you pushed forward. Had to keep all the other girls safe that could fall into his trap. He pulled you past Nick, past Mike even, and out the back door and shoved you into a waiting SVU. It pulled off and you internally panicked.

 “Even better in person,” a venomous voice called from the dark, it made you want to vomit.

 “You must be my private dance, can’t do much in here baby,” you batted your eyes and calmed when you saw the van holding Olivia, Amanda, and Rafael follow you. Behind them were the guys and you knew you’d be fine.

 “Thought we’d take this somewhere more private,” the greasy man licked his lips and your stomach turned. What a gross slimy mother fucker! He pulled you onto his lap and you spent the ride grinding against him, trying not to throw up.

 Thankfully it was a short drive to a warehouse, upon entering you knew it was his torture chamber. Cameras, medical equipment, medieval torture devices, and the like all lined the floor space. There was even an audience. Perfect, you’d get to bring down more skeevy motherfuckers.

 “What the hell is this,” you popped your hip and tried to form a plan, “I wasn’t told about an audience.”

 “Doesn’t matter what you want,” the man gripped your hair in a panful fist and jerked you to the table. You were strapped onto an exam table and people circling when they finally burst in to save you. It all went by in a blur. You were freed, people arrested, and Rafael had you in a NYPD wind breaker.

 “Saved this one for you,” Fin had the skeevy man on his knees and handed you a pair of cuffs.

 “What took you so long,” you glared.

 “Had to wait for SWAT, they were dragging their feet,” Fin laughed.

 “Figures, probably jacking off to my dancing,” you rolled your eyes and read the man his rights. It took several hours but everyone was processed and awaiting arraignment, it was Friday night and they had to wait until Monday. Perfect, it meant you got a break.

 After the initial checks in, everyone gave you space to decompress. Except for Rafael, but you didn’t mind; you’d had a thing for him since you’d met. He insisted on riding home with you. Insisted that while you showered he run around the corner for takeout. Hell he nearly invited himself to spend the night, he didn’t like that you’d been put in a position to almost be hurt. He had a thing for you too, not that you knew.

 The trial flew by and everything back to normal, Elise was thankful you’d avenged her and you were back to dancing on your own pole. You and Rafael had grown closer since the operation, best friends even. Neither of you admitting to the other your feelings, afraid it’d ruin what you had.

 One night you dropped past his office to ask if he wanted to grab a late dinner and you caught him with his pants down. Literally. He was at his desk, cock in his hand, jacking off to something on his computer. You both stared at each other frozen while Lana Del Rey played from his computer.

 “Are you jacking off to me stripping Rafi,” your hand clamped over your eyes while he put himself away.

 “Noooo,” he slammed his laptop shut and fumbled with his pants.

 “You can’t lie to me,” you peeked at him.

 “Maaayyybbbeee,” he was reduced to one word responses from the embarrassment of being caught.

 “Ah screw it,” you marched across the room to him and kissed him. His stubbled cheeks were rough against your palms, his lips soft and warm.

 “You’re not slapping me,” Rafael raised an eyebrow when you pulled away, clearly confused.

 “Nope,” you pecked his lips again, “I like you Rafael. Like like you. I want to fuck you.”

 “You what,” his eye widened and you started back peddling.

 “Forget I said anything,” you stumbled backwards to escape, but he pulled you back to him.

 “I want you too,” he kissed you, his hands roaming your body, gripping and grabbing whatever he could latch on to.

 “I came to ask you to dinner,” you panted, “But I don’t want food anymore.”

 “Food after,” he nipped your neck.

 “Come on Rafi,” you rushed him through grabbing his things, “I’m giving you a private dance.”

 The mood was set with Christmas lights and flickering candles while Lana Del Rey played. You came strutting out in tall black heels, a fishnet body suit, red thong, and heart shaped nipple tassels. Rafael nearly came in his pants right then and there. Using the pole to hold you up, you spread your legs and danced down to squatting. A quick turn and you were standing up, your ass shaking in his face. He grabbed at your hips and you swatted him away.

 “No touching,” you pulled away and jumped onto the pole to spin. Holding yourself up with your thighs, you humped the pole and palmed your chest.

 “You interrupted me before I finished,” Rafael growled, “I want to taste you.”

 “Come get it,” you dropped to the ground and leaned backwards against the pole. Rafael dropped to the ground in front of you and spread your legs. Staring into your soul, he ripped the fishnets and pushed the thong aside. His broad tongue lapped up and down your folds, sending shivers up your spine.

 “Hold on,” he demanded and lifted your leg to lay over his shoulder. You gripped the pole behind you to stay upright, the other hand tight in his hair while he ate you to completion. He was spinning you around the second your foot hit the floor, his pants dropped, and the sound of a condom being ripped open made you smirk.

 “Fuck me papi,” you wiggled your ass and he did just that.  He slipped into you so effortlessly; it was like you were made for each other. He hammered into you and you pushed back on him, giving as good as you got. While you held onto the pole for dear life, one of his hands bruised your hip and the other rubbed furiously at your swollen bundle of nerves. All too soon he was cumming, but his fingers didn’t stop until you were clenching around him.

 “Rafi,” you were drawing circles on his chest while you laid in a heap on your living room floor. Half eaten take out was on the coffee table while you recovered from round two. Or was it three?

 “Yes,” he kissed your temple.

 “I don’t want this to be a onetime thing,” you sat up abruptly, “I want all of you.”

 “I’m yours. All of me. As long as I get all of you too,” he pulled you back down against him.

 “Of course,” you breathed a sigh of relief.

 “You gave Fin really bad dances,” Rafael was laughing hysterically.

 “I wasn’t trying to fuck Fin,” you poked his side and reached for your phone, “But if you think I should give him a better show…”

 “Don’t you dare,” he snatched your phone and threw it onto the sofa, “You’re mine.”

 “What was that,” you played innocently.

 “You. Are. Mine,” each word was punctuated with a hard bite to your neck, chest, and stomach. He kept the bites and chanting of ‘mine’ up until you relented.

 “You’re mine too,” you growled and attacked his neck with bites and sucking.

 “No private dances for anyone else,” Rafael was back to his sweet self.

 “Of course not,” you stood up and stretched, reaching for a forgotten container of rice.

 “I need a shower,” he groaned as he climbed to his feet beside you.

 “Shower and cuddles,” you dropped the rice to the table.

 “Sounds perfect,” he helped you gather the leftovers and followed you to the shower. You never expected the pole dancing class to bring you the love of your life, but here you were.  

[aliciameade]

Baby - Ch. 4

Title: Baby Author: aliciameade Rating: *** M *** Pairing: Stephanie Smothers/Emily Nelson Summary:  That tearful kiss shared between Stephanie and Emily wasn't their first—and it certainly wasn't their last.

(Chapter 1)

Also on AO3.

“It’s in the second drawer of my dresser.”

“Good.”

Stephanie is sure to be prompt Monday morning when she drops off Miles at school. The last thing she wants is to have to face Sean after spending much of the weekend in his bed—and in her laundry room—with his wife. She feels like she’s wearing a giant scarlet letter as she walks her son from her car to the school’s entrance. She’s sure that every parent there knows exactly what she was up to over the weekend.

She hugs Miles goodbye and sends him to class to hurry back to the safety of her car. The relief is short-lived, however, when she realizes she’ll be back in seven hours to pick him up with an even narrower chance of not seeing Sean or Emily.

Not that she’d mind seeing Emily.

Not at all.

She’s actually intrigued to discover how their newfound dynamic will play out in a public setting. Maybe she’s even thrilled by the possibilities.

When she returns at 2:30, her heart races and her palms sweat as she waits outside the school for Miles. Sona and Darren and Stacy come and go, all making sure to make some type of underhanded comment to her while she waits.

She’s certain she hears Stacy whisper something that sounds less than proper to Darren while gesturing to her own neck and Stephanie’s ears ring. Her hand flies up to cover the marks left by Emily that hadn’t yet begun to fade—that she hadn’t thought to conceal before she left the house. She revels in their existence; they make her feel sexy and desirable and are a constant reminder of the way Emily had taken her in every sense of the word. Just seeing them as she passes a mirror or window is enough to make her heart pound.

She doesn’t want someone like Stacy sullying them. Cheapening them. She should have covered them to protect them.

The quiet rumble of an engine pulling up behind her interrupts her reverie. It makes her jump and she spins to see who it is; it’s a black BMW.

It’s Sean.

He waves at her from behind the wheel and is wearing a warm smile when he steps out of his car. “Hello, Stephanie.”

She’s unsure if her heart is in her throat or if her stomach is in her feet; maybe it’s both. She fiddles with her hair to try to cover up the marks and makes it a point to not turn her head in a way that will bring them to his attention. “Sean, hi!” she trills. She sounds fake and she knows it and tries to correct it. “How are you?”

“I’m well, thank you.” He comes to a stop in front of her and she turns to face the school rather than him to safely obscure the hickeys from his sight. “Emily mentioned the boys had a sleepover this weekend.”

“Did she? I mean, yes, they did.” She clears her throat and plays with the pendant on her necklace except that reminds her of the moment Emily had taken it between her lips and pulled on it to make Stephanie sit up and kiss her. She drops it back against her chest. “He said he had a super fun time.”

“I thought you were there? She said you had a girls’ night to help her unwind. Lord knows, she didn’t want me around.”

She takes a deep breath and holds it; it would have been nice if Emily had filled her in on their alibi—or whatever you would call it. “Yes, right, of course. I meant they were holed up in Nicky’s room most of the night so I don’t know what all they got up to. But they were definitely having fun.” She leaves out the confirmation that she and Emily holed up in a room to have fun, too, and helped one another unwind many, many times. She’s about to pray for Miles to hurry up when she sees him skipping down the hallway toward the entrance. “Smooch!”

“Hi, Mom,” he says as they hug. “Hi, Nicky’s dad.”

“It’s Sean, sweetie,” she corrects.

“Hey there, Miles.”

“Okay, we better go because the cookies I baked today aren’t going to eat themselves!” It works in getting Miles to cheer and start toward her car so she doesn’t have to keep up the small talk longer. “Have a nice day,” she says to Sean with a wave.

She doesn’t wait to look back for his response.

On Tuesday, she doesn’t see either of them.

On Wednesday afternoon, Stephanie sees Emily’s black Porsche in the parking lot when she pulls in and her heart stops.

She parks a few cars away and checks her hair in the rearview mirror and dabs on a touch of lip gloss before hopping out to straighten her sweater and brush off her jeans. Emily’s not waiting with the other parents; in fact, she’s nowhere to be seen.

“Hi, Darren,” she says as genuinely as she can muster. She ignores Stacy.

“Hi, Stephanie,” he bites at her. He might as well hiss for as venomous as it is. “Running Emily’s errands again?”

She grits her teeth. “I told you, I’m not Emily’s - ”

“What about me?”

Stephanie feels her heart flutter and her brain buzz as Emily strolls out from the school, Nicky and Miles trailing behind her, to stop next to her. She glances to her left and there she is, wearing a gray pinstripe suit with a navy blue necktie. Her hair is tied up in an elegant twist and she looks to have a pocket watch clipped to her waist.

“We were, uh,” Darren starts. He’s visibly nervous.

“Giving Steph shit about being my nanny, right?”

Stephanie’s eyes go wide. She hadn’t told Emily

about that comment from days and days ago and has no idea how she would know about it.

Nor has Emily ever called her “Steph” before.

Darren laughs nervously and looks for help but Sona’s disappeared and Stacy’s looking everywhere but at him. “I mean, I thought...because…”

Emily decides to ignore him and Stephanie feels every ounce of Emily’s focus fall upon her. “Mama needs a drink. Let’s go.”

Her hand touches Stephanie’s lower back to guide her away from the school and into the parking lot and it’s all Stephanie can do to not shiver from the contact. She thinks she hears Darren and Stacy chattering behind them but she doesn’t give a shit what they have to say. Emily swooped in like a fashionable knight in shining armor to put them in their place.

“Meet me at home,” Emily purrs into her ear before leaving her side to go to her car. “Nicky! Let’s go!”

Stephanie has to take a moment in her car, parked behind Emily’s Porsche, after Miles jumps out and races Nicky into the house. She lets her head fall back against the seat and she closes her eyes to take a few deep centering breaths as she tries to dry her palms on her jeans.

A sharp rap on her window makes her jump.

“Hey, Dark Side,” Emily says loudly enough to be heard. “Come on.” She doesn’t wait for Stephanie to follow, already halfway to the house when she all but falls out of her Subaru to walk as casually as possible up the drive and into her dream house.

The French music Emily loves is already playing when she closes the door behind her. She can hear Miles and Nicky yelling and running upstairs. Once she leaves her shoes and jacket at the door and walks in, she can see Emily in the kitchen. Her jacket is gone, as is her tie. She’s unbelievably and effortlessly sexy in her gray slacks and sleeveless white blouse as she works the cocktail shaker in her hand.

She looks up at Stephanie’s entrance and smiles a little. “How are you?”

The question catches Stephanie off-guard. It’s so normal, so friendly. She clears her throat. “Um, I’m fine. How are you?” She takes up her usual spot on the other side of the island.

“Work was shit, but I’m good now.” She seems to smile a little more as she’s pouring their martinis.

“Anything that you, uh, want to talk about?” Stephanie scratches at her arm to stop her fingers from nervously tapping on the counter.

“Fuck no,” Emily says with a laugh. She hands Stephanie her glass, taps it with a clink, then takes a long drink. She doesn’t finish it all in one go, though, as she’s seen her do in the past.

“Cheers.” Stephanie drinks and sets her glass down and taps her nails on it a few times. It gets Emily’s attention and she feels a mood start to settle. “I didn’t think I would see you until Saturday.”

Emily finishes her drink. “Why would you think that?”

“I assumed when you said—when you left—on Saturday…”

Emily meanders through her kitchen; Stephanie knows she has a set path, however. “Baby, didn’t they tell you?”

Stephanie frowns a little. “Didn’t who tell me what?”

“Didn’t they tell you what day it is?” She stops in front of her and leans against the counter, her hand resting atop Stephanie’s.

The shiver she resisted in the parking lot catches up with her and she knows Emily notices it. It starts to muddle her ability to figure out Emily’s riddle. About what is so notable about today and why anyone specific would have informed her. She tries to act playfully defiant as she lifts her chin and hopes it comes across as at least a little bit sexy. “And what is today?”

“Baby girl.” Emily smiles at her again and moves in until Stephanie has to part her knees to let her into her space. The sense of warmth that drifts over her is intoxicating. “It’s hump day.”

Stephanie freezes. She can’t figure out if she heard what she thinks she heard because Emily would never make such a dumb joke and whatever it was she said must be lascivious with the way Emily’s looking down at her. She’s resolving she has no choice but to ask what she said rather than play along when Emily bursts out laughing.

Her hands rest on Stephanie’s shoulders and slide up to curl around the back of her neck. “Hump day,” she repeats.

Wow. Stephanie laughs and hopes her face isn’t as incredulous as she feels. Her shock is lessened by Emily’s fingernails scratching at the back of her neck, teasing up into her hair. “Right. Yeah. Yes, it is.”

“It means I want to fuck you, baby,” Emily says. The laughter is gone but she’s still smiling.

Stephanie blinks. Her body is already responding to the touch and especially those words. “Great, yeah.” Her response is all wrong. She should have thrown herself into Emily’s arms. It’s all she’s wanted to do for the last four days.

Emily’s nose scrunches and Stephanie can’t believe how cute it is. “Are you sure? I didn’t mean to freak you out. You’re so tense right now; I was trying to get you to relax. We don’t have to -”

“Yeah, yes. That sounds...great. Wonderful. Let’s...do it.” She hates how she sounds and closes her eyes to pull herself together and takes a breath. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”

That is a better answer and she opens her eyes just in time to see Emily leaning down. She closes them again as their lips touch. It’s gentle but it escalates quickly, still managing to maintain a level of softness even as Emily’s tongue starts playing with hers.

She tastes like gin and the memories of all the ways she’s used her tongue between Stephanie’s legs. The thought makes her hands move and the closest place for them to land is on Emily’s ass.

The contact makes Emily pull back with a quiet chuckle. “Slow down, tiger.”

She’s about to apologize and stops herself with a finger to her lips. “I didn’t know how long -”

“An hour.” Emily’s fingers are at work unbuttoning Stephanie’s white cardigan. “Maybe two.”

“That’s uh,” she watches Emily pull the sweater down her arms, “an ambiguous window of time.”

“Why don’t you let me worry about my husband?” Emily says as she lifts Stephanie’s black tee over her head and just like that, she’s topless in Emily’s kitchen. She’s already unhooking Stephanie’s bra when she lifts her head to shout, “Nicky! Close your door if you’re going to make so much fucking noise; I don’t want to listen to it!”

The door slams before she finishes and she smiles down at Stephanie.

“You’re not the only one with parenting hacks.”

Stephanie shakes her head; she disagrees with Emily’s approach but she isn’t going to say that. Her hands find something to do in unbuttoning and unzipping Emily’s pants. They fall to the floor and then she’s unbuttoning her shirt, one by one, from the bottom of her blouse up. She’s in another matching bra and panty set, this one a light blue. “I’ll get you on my vlog one of these days.” Her back arches a little when Emily’s fingertips tease her nipples.

“I think you might die trying.” Emily bends to kiss her again. This time it’s not so gentle and her hands cup Stephanie’s breasts greedily.

Stephanie hears herself moan and her hands fly up to hold Emily’s waist. When she woke up this morning, she didn’t expect to be on the verge of having sex in a kitchen, but there’s no complaint in any singular fiber of her being. She holds on as Emily’s kiss assaults her senses, as her fingers graze and twist and pinch and pull sounds from her throat until her hands get a mind of their own and start to roam. They travel up Emily’s back under her blouse and down to trace the curve of her ass and the backs of her thighs, around them, and up until her left hand fits between Emily’s legs.

She’s wet.

Emily’s breath rushes out of her and her kiss breaks. She hadn’t been expecting Stephanie to do that. To touch her so soon. Being able to surprise Emily like this had fueled much of their endless night together. She doesn’t wait long before slipping her fingers beneath the blue lace to feel just how wet she really is.

It makes Emily’s head tip back as a moan rumbles in her chest. It’s an extremely vulnerable position to be in, both of them. Stripping naked in a well-lit kitchen. In the middle of the day. Windows everywhere. Children upstairs. Husband apt to return at any moment. Stephanie’s hand in the wife’s underwear.

Stephanie finds all of it a turn-on.

Her free hand runs up over Emily’s flat stomach to her bra. She doesn’t bother trying to undo it one-handed; instead, she pushes it up and off Emily’s breasts so she can lean forward and take one into her mouth.

She can feel the tension in Emily’s body, the resistance she’s exerting even as her fingers slide into Stephanie’s hair and she hates it. She’s seen Emily let go and the joy—both sexual and otherwise—it brings her. It irritates her that she’s holding back now when this was her doing. She invited Stephanie to her home. For sex. And she’s holding back.

So Stephanie stops teasing and slides two fingers up and in until the heel of her hand is pressing hard against Emily’s clit. She hears the gasp that she knows Emily fought and gives her a tug with the fingers inside her.

She wants to watch Emily take this. She wants Emily riding her fingers. She sinks her teeth into the firm flesh in her mouth and pulls at Emily’s hip to try to bring her down to her lap despite her precarious seat on a backless stool. Emily not only resists, she reverses. She takes a step back and Stephanie has to lean forward to keep her hand in place. Another step and she’s forced off the stool and to her feet. Emily kisses her again; she leads with her tongue and it’s hot and wet and it makes Stephanie weak while also strengthening her resolve. She kisses her back with just as much fervor and maintains the slow stroking rhythm into Emily.

They shuffle step by step and Stephanie can see they’re making their way to the couch. The couch is even less private in full view of the front door. She hadn’t thought about that on Friday when Emily had undressed her and put her mouth on her. She was too far gone with desire to care.

She has an awareness now of the risk. It drives her to suck on Emily’s tongue in a way that makes the blonde’s breath hitch. It also succeeds in getting Emily to finally, finally reach for the button of Stephanie’s jeans and undo it. The zipper’s next and then they’re being worked down over her hips until they’re caught at her thighs. She knows she’s going to need to finish the job herself but she doesn’t concern herself with that yet.

She’s much more content to enjoy Emily’s cool hands as they grip her ass to pull her along.

She knows what Emily is doing. She has them turned and set up so she can pull Stephanie down on to her, but Stephanie has other plans.

She’s quick about it; she ducks under Emily’s arm first, then forces her around with the hand between her legs and before Emily has a chance to even try to protest it, she’s on her knees over Stephanie’s lap on the couch.

“What the hell was that?” she says with a crooked smile. Stephanie half-expects her to get up but she doesn’t. Instead, she drapes her arms over her shoulders and sinks further into her new seat and Stephanie has to control the desire to moan at how deep it pushes her fingers.

“That was me deciding to let you take what you want.”

“Let me take what I want?” Emily challenges her but she’s not fooling anybody. She’s already starting to rock against Stephanie’s hand.

Stephanie sighs; it’s as authentic as it is posturing and while she knows what she’s about to say could get her slapped, she decides it’s worth it. “You said you wanted to fuck me, but I know what you really wanted was to get fucked properly.”

The declaration makes Emily pause. Her hips stop and her persistent smirk fades. Stephanie prepares for the worst.

“You think you know how to fuck me better than Sean?” she finally states.

The response is relatively safe so Stephanie pushes her fingers further into Emily. “When’s the last time he made you come nine times in one night?”

Emily’s smirk begins to return as does the rocking of her hips. “You kept count?”

“Of how many times I could get you off? I had to know what I could do to you.”

Emily hums and Stephanie feels her hands move to grip her shoulders as she leans closer and closer until her breath tickles Stephanie’s ear. “You came 14 times for me, baby.”

A shiver runs through her body at that. It’s like it remembers each of those 14 times at once and can’t contain the memory of how they felt just as she can’t stop herself from lifting her chin to press her lips to Emily’s throat. It’s impossible to resist with every inch of skin on display, the way Emily’s hair is clipped back and out of the way.

A hand comes to rest on her cheek and it’s almost like Emily’s cradling her to hold her there. She doesn’t think too hard about it maybe being a loving action rather than one of simple desire for more. Instead, she channels that into what she’s doing, into how much she wants to tease Emily versus make her come as quickly as possible. Into how her tongue traces up along the tendon showing in Emily’s neck until she’s pulling Emily down so she can reach to suck on the flesh just below her ear.

She knows she should be mindful but Emily sighs in her ear and her hips rock a little more quickly and Stephanie presses her teeth into her skin.

It pulls a moan out of Emily and that’s when she closes her lips and sucks. It’s quick but strong and she’s already letting go when Emily leans out of reach.

“Did you just give me a fucking hickey?”

She looks up over the smooth expanse of skin and can see that spot starting to darken. Her instinct is to apologize; Emily’s tone is accusatory and Stephanie knew it was wrong to do it but she couldn’t help herself, nor does she regret it. “Payback.”

She can see the anger flash in Emily’s eyes but she counters it by pressing the heel of her hand hard against Emily.

It works.

It makes the defiant tension in Emily’s body evaporate and she all but slumps forward. It’s as though she’s surrendered at Stephanie’s failure to back down as she loops her arms around Stephanie’s neck and leans into her. She starts rocking in earnest and Stephanie wraps her free arm around her waist to feel her move. Her lips kiss the skin she can reach in the limited range she has, covering her throat and clavicles and chest.

This is what Stephanie wanted out of this encounter. She wanted to make Emily give up her command of control quickly; it had taken hours that first night.

Not today.

Today, she’s given it up almost immediately.

She remains in control in one and only way: how hard and fast she rides Stephanie’s hand. But it’s the only way. Stephanie is in control of keeping her in place, of the marks she’s starting to leave across her chest more freely, of ripping the clip from Emily’s hair so she can wind her fingers into it and pull her into a kiss.

Her own body throbs in arousal; her thighs press together and her hips lift to try to find friction and relief. The fact that Emily had begun to undress her, had clearly had intentions of touching her, rattles around in her memory and she kisses her harder. She wants to make Emily have to force herself away for oxygen. She wants to make Emily forget her own name. To forget she’s married. That she has a man in her life at all. To make sure she never wants anyone but Stephanie ever again.

The very concept makes Stephanie push her hand up harder into Emily, her hips pressing up to drive them further.

“I should have brought it home with me,” Emily says, her sentence broken as she breathes into Stephanie’s mouth between the hot, wet kisses Stephanie keeps demanding from her. She doesn’t clarify what “it” is, but Stephanie knows.

She knows because “it” was buried in her as she sat atop her washing machine on Saturday.

The fact that Emily’s thinking of it, that she’s remembering it right now as she grinds herself into Stephanie’s hand makes her head swim. She hates herself for it, but she has to pull away from Emily’s kiss to catch her breath because thinking about wearing it as Emily rides her is too much. “Shit.”

She feels Emily’s breathy chuckle in her ear, though it’s mixed with her quiet moans “Oh, you like that. You want to fuck me with it, baby?”

Emily being able to speak in complete sentences pisses Stephanie off; it means she should be trying harder to render her speechless. Her options, at least in this exact moment, are limited, however. She wanted to let Emily use her and give up control but Stephanie can feel her pulling back. She’d been teetering on the edge of wild abandon and Stephanie’s own moment of need had given Emily the inch she needed in order to take a mile.

Stephanie rips her hand away; it’s the only power she has now.

Emily’s reaction is immediate.

“What are you doing?” Emily says with a gasp of indignation. She immediately reaches for Stephanie’s hand to pull her back but Stephanie locks her arms around Emily’s waist so she can’t. “I was so fucking close; what the hell, Steph?”

If she was truly angry, Stephanie knows she wouldn’t have called her that, so she leans back enough so she can smile up at Emily’s flushed face of irritation, and then she moves.

She sits so far forward that Emily grabs her shoulders to stop from tipping back and then she’s quick; she stands up, taking Emily with her, for the two seconds it takes to turn and drop her onto her back on the couch.

She literally drops her; she’d have thrown her if she had the strength.

The look of surprise on Emily’s face is one she knows she will never forget and she smiles down at her as she pushes her jeans the rest of the way down and off, followed by her underwear. She reaches for Emily’s next to get them out of the way once and for all.

She hesitates, then. Thinking about the lace in her hand.

“What are you doing?” Emily asks. She’s sitting up to reach for her and already has a hand around Stephanie’s forearm to try to pull her down.

“Just…” Stephanie hesitates one more second, then crouches to grab her jeans and she stuffs the undergarment into her pocket before joining Emily on the couch. She doesn’t miss the smirk Emily’s giving her before she kisses it away as she settles over her; she straddles Emily’s thigh and sighs at the contact she’s been craving for so long.

She puts her hand back, too, but she starts with teasing Emily again. She feels powerful to be able to make the woman whine in frustration and lift her hips. Emily is so wet she can gather it on her fingers as she drags up through her until she’s grinding her fingertips into her clit.

The sound that leaves Emily makes Stephanie smile down at her. She doesn’t say anything; she doesn’t need to. She knows Emily knows Stephanie feels like she’s just won but Emily doesn’t say anything either. She just tips her head back and closes her eyes.

So she kisses Emily the way she wants—hot and deep and hard—as they start rocking against one another. She kisses her until Emily rips her mouth away with a gasp and then she’s panting in Stephanie’s ear as they move as one and Stephanie’s mouth finds her neck again.

There’s a brief moment when Stephanie lifts her head to switch from kissing the right side of Emily’s neck to the left side when she catches her reflection in the window in front of her.

It’s indecent; she can see the way she’s moving against Emily and her blonde hair where part of it spills over the arm of the couch. She can also see the top of Emily’s right thigh, the one not between Stephanie’s legs, as it lifts to wrap around her waist.

It makes her drop her head with a moan and shove her tongue into Emily’s mouth as her pace quickens; her hips swivel against Emily and her fingers work furiously against her and she can feel Emily pressing up into her.

She’s caught by surprise when Emily’s hand disappears from where it had been holding the back of Stephanie’s arm and reappears between Stephanie’s legs. Her fingers slip into her like they’re nothing and Stephanie doesn’t try to stop her. She’s too far gone to care that Emily’s trying to be in some kind of control—or maybe Emily just wants to touch her right now, too.

Stephanie adjusts her position to help them both and it’s like someone poured gasoline on an already raging fire. They move against one another hot and fast and she feels Emily pulling at her, trying to get her to lay on her instead of how she’s propping herself up but she resists; she doesn’t give in until she hears Emily’s voice starting to catch in the tell-tale way she learned so well a few short days ago. She breathes her in smelling of that perfume and sex and it’s all Stephanie can do to not come.

She holds out a few beats longer until she can feel the tension spreading through Emily and the way her hips are lifting incessantly and -

She feels Emily break.

And she breaks with her.

She has just enough wherewithal to lift her head and claim Emily’s mouth before things become too loud.

Part of her wonders, as Emily’s voice reveals just how much she needed this release, if she could get off just from hearing Emily come.

The curiosity is what leads her to slow down her hand and ease Emily through it until she’s quiet and still beneath her. When she opens her eyes, Stephanie smiles at her and starts again, this time only a gentle and slow touch over swollen nerves.

“You can stop,” Emily says with a shiver.

Stephanie’s touch is unwavering. “Do you want me to stop?”

Emily takes a breath as though to speak so Stephanie chooses that moment to press a little more firmly. Instead of words, it’s an exhale and a shake of her head.

Stephanie smiles as she kisses her then wiggles herself until she’s able to lay down fully wedged between Emily and the couch, her head on Emily’s shoulder. She’s too tired to hold herself up any longer.

It affords her, she realizes, the ability to touch Emily in any way she likes with so much ease. She still chooses to be slow and gentle, however, and she can feel the deeper breaths Emily draws now and then when she chooses to be a little more firm or quick.

She doesn’t know, frankly, if it’s enough for Emily to come again. Even if it’s not, she’s not stopping her or telling her to go hard and fast. She’s allowing Stephanie to do as she pleases.

It’s exactly what Stephanie wanted.

She tries not to think about how nice it is for Emily to surrender and trust her in the ways she has. She tries not to think about how she maybe feels like she could lay like this, in her arms making love in the middle of the day, forever. Emily’s fingers trace patterns on Stephanie’s back even as she sighs and moans quietly.

Her ear to Emily’s chest, she can hear when her heart, still beating quickly, speeds up. It’s not but a few seconds later she hears and feels the breath she takes before she comes with a quiet cry.

It makes a tremor echo through her own body, low and soft, but it’s there, and she moans so Emily can know she’s riding same the wave with her again.

The entire moment is peaceful and Stephanie doesn’t dare move or say a word to break it. She’s content to listen to their breaths return to normal and listen to the beat of Emily’s heart, and Emily doesn’t seem to be in any hurry, either.

She feels the patterns being traced on her back resume and she withdraws her hand to let her arm drape over Emily’s waist. She knows they need to get up and dress and get back to normal—nothing feels more normal than exactly where she is—but she can’t bring herself to be the one to break the moment.

Eventually, Emily’s other hand finds Stephanie’s chin and nudges her until she lifts her head, only to be guided down into a kiss.

It’s the most tender kiss they’ve shared and it steals away her breath.

“Thank you,” Emily says when they part.

It almost makes Stephanie laugh but she’s too moved by it to do so. “For what?”

“For this.” Emily kisses her again and Stephanie starts to melt into it, but it ends before she fully can. “We need to get up.”

Her tone is still quiet and it’s almost unsettling; Emily is usually quick to snap back into her commandeering persona. Even when they spent the night together and things turned playful or intense, the Emily she first met always came right back until something Stephanie said or did seemed to get her to take off the mask again.

The mask is still off now and Stephanie watches in a bit of wonder as Emily is careful about moving out from under Stephanie to gather her clothes. She even hands Stephanie her jeans and gives her a tilt of her head as she returns to the kitchen. She gathers the rest of their discarded clothes and shrugs into her blouse, only buttoning two buttons on it. She doesn’t bother with anything else.

“Come on,” she says as she turns for the stairs and Stephanie finally gets her limbs working to get off the couch to catch up with her. Emily hands her tee and she pulls it on as they climb the stairs and she says a quick prayer that the boys don’t choose right this second to run screaming out of Miles’s room and into their half-naked mothers.

They don’t; she does hear them playing but it’s clear they aren’t on the move.

Entirely unsure of what’s going on, she follows Emily into the bedroom and all the way into the massive closet Stephanie’s so envious of. Emily lets her pass and closes the door behind them. Stephanie feels her hand be caught and that makes her take pause—though she keeps walking—to look down and see Emily holding her hand. She leads her to the settee in the middle of the closet and sits down; she pulls Stephanie right down with her onto her lap and her lips are on Stephanie’s again.

Stephanie can’t stop the groan; she thought things were finished. They had to be out of time, but she suspects that might be why Emily just put so many doors between them and the driveway.

They kiss.

That’s all they do.

They kiss.

Emily’s hands don’t wander anywhere but along Stephanie’s back so Stephanie keeps hers in neutral territory as well.

And they kiss. It’s not rushed. There’s no power struggle or teeth or impatience.

It’s dangerous in so many ways.

She doesn’t know how long they kiss but it’s long enough to make her lips tingle from use.

The chirp-chirp of a car alarm being activated interrupts them and Stephanie feels the word, “Shit,” drift across her lips before Emily kisses her one more time.

Stephanie moves off her lap, then. Sean’s home and their moment has ended. She dresses quickly, grateful for the mirrors in the closet, and watches Emily do the same, slipping into a new pair of panties before she steps back into her pants. She watches Emily flip her hair to finger comb it out and then watches her freeze.

“Damn it, baby. Really?” she says with a look at Stephanie in the mirror as she tilts her head to get a better look at the mark left on her neck and then down her chest before she buttons her blouse.

“I’d apologize, but women never have to apologize for anything.” She smiles at Emily in the mirror and then takes the few quick steps necessary until she can wrap her arms around her waist from behind. She just holds her for a moment and feels Emily’s hands come to rest on her arms for a few seconds before they guide them away.

Emily turns and she’s smiling, too. She touches Stephanie’s cheek and it’s all she can do not to swoon from the caress. “You should go. I’ll see you Saturday, okay?”

Stephanie resists the urge to launch herself forward and hug her. “You know where to find me. In my laundry room,” she tacks on with a laugh.

Emily’s hand falls away and she nods at the door, a clear signal that Stephanie needs to go, but not before she says, “I want to see your bedroom this time.”

Chapter 5

[cravingmarvel]

Leave Me Lonely - Part Two

Bucky Barnes AU

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: A few swear words, emotional & physical violence

Word count: 3055 (Yeah idk how that happened again)

“I played around with the engagement ring on Bucky’s finger, reminding me that he’s just mine for the late hours. Only when the sky is dark and covered in glowing stars. When the moon comes out giving him permission to touch me in the most intimate places. It means that he can love me and doesn’t have to pretend.”

A/N: I really really really hope you like this! I’ve been kind of scared to post this, because I’m scared that this part isn’t good enough hahahah I’d really love feedback, I’m even more insecure rn hahahah

Have fun!

I marked the parts where it jumps from Bucky’s to Reader’s POV with a vertical line (—).

Leave Me Lonely - Part One

Masterlist // Bucky Barnes Masterlist 

Tagging my muturals & people who I love

@buckisthatyou @buckybarneshairpullingkink @buckystan-plums @buckyforbreakfast @samingtonwilson @spideyjlaw @sgtjbuccky @captain-ariel-barnes @whyisbuckyso

(You are not obligated to read this if you don’t want to hahah)

The afternoon sunlight shone on my face and gave the city of New York a soft and soothing yellow glow. I stepped out of the apartment complex y/n lived in and walk to my car that had seen better days. The blue paint had faded and started to come off, making my car look older than it actually was. I bought this car when I was nineteen years old and had a job at a hardware store. My parents kept offering to buy me a new, more stylish car, but I declined. I wanted to know what it felt like to make my own decision, to do what I wanted to do without asking for permission. My parents have been like this ever since I can remember. Always making decisions for me. What kind of university I go to and what I’m going to study in order to stay in the family business. So when I got my own job and earned my own cash, the first sip of freedom tasted so well.

I sat down at the driver’s seat, put the key in the ignition and put my seat belt on. My phone started ringing as I was about to pull out of the parking spot to drive home. I took my phone out of my pocket and a light shiver ran down my spine as I saw who the caller was.

My mother.

She never calls me unless someone’s dead. And I can’t tell who out of my family hasn’t died already. I pressed the green icon and held the phone to my ear, patiently awaiting my mother’s screeching voice on the other end.

“Hello darling, are you home?”

I hesitated before telling her where I was. “No, I just came out of y/n apartment. I’m still in the car. Why?”

“Oh you were with that girl again?” I could hear the disgust in her voice and the venom as she said y/n’s name. My mother never liked her, she made that clear when she came to my apartment and I introduced them to each other. At the very first glance, fate was sealed that they wouldn’t get along. My mother made it very clear that I would not get together with a woman like that. A woman who studied art and made her money as a waitress. For her, y/n was a lost cause, someone who threw her life away for paintbrushes and aprons.

“Yes I was and she has a name. What did you call me for?” I started to already feel tired of this conversation.

“I called you because the lovely Ana is here and we have something exciting to tell you.” I heard Ana’s giggle and my father’s voice in the background. “We’ll see you when you get here.”

The change in her tone was significant and not something you couldn’t pick up once she started to talk about Ana.

When I rang the doorbell, I could hear laughter emerging from inside and a voice getting closer to the front door. Behind it stood my mother in her best dress, probably Burberry. The sound of violin’s echoed through the living room and a faint smell of roses mixed in with the air. Ana sat on one of the couches waiting for me to sit next to her. I greeted her with a smile and a small nod. I was confused as to why Ana was sitting in my parent’s living room and what the news were all about.

“So, what was it that you wanted to talk about?” My parents looked at each other and then Ana before my mother spoke up.

“Ana is going to have a baby.” My mother smiled widely and Ana turned her head to look at me. I couldn’t believe what my mother just told me.

“What?” I let out a dry laugh in hopes that it was just a joke but from the faces I received in return, it was clear that it wasn’t. I turned my body to face the woman sitting next to me with a look of disbelieve. We had sex twice and she said she was on birth control, so how could this happen? “That’s impossible, Ana.” She shook her head and that’s all I needed. I leaned back an inhaled deeply. “What now?”

“You are going to get married. You can’t have a baby without being married. But don’t worry your father and I took care of everything.”

I thought I misunderstood but my mother already handed me a small box with a ring placed in it. I couldn’t spent the rest of my life with that woman. And what about y/n, the woman I actually love?

“I can’t. I—“

“You can and you will. You can’t get a girl pregnant and then expect to walk away like nothing happened. You have to own up to it and do as we say!” My mother stepped closer and looked down on me. “You have already disappointed us enough, James.”

I felt the tears roll down my face and looked over to Ana, who seemed so uninterested to what is happening before her eyes. My mother pointed to Ana and my throat felt like it closed off completely. I cleared my throat and Ana jumped slightly, turning to me with a smile on her face. I felt every pair of eyes on me and the tears didn’t seem to stop. It should be y/n instead of Ana who I’m going to ask this question to.

“Will you marry me?”

I put my suitcase on the floor to open the door to my apartment. Ana followed close behind me complaining that I wasn’t helping her, but I couldn’t, I had our baby in my other arm.

Our honeymoon was set back until Ana gave birth because she didn’t want to go while she was pregnant. She didn’t want to lay on the beach in a bikini and have a baby bump that made her look fat. I thought it was ridiculous, but even my parents stood on her side.  We lived with my parents for the time Ana was pregnant, so this is the day she is moving in with me. My parents thought it would be better, because they didn’t think I could take care of Ana alone and give her the care she needs. And they were right. I was overwhelmed by everything that had to do with her pregnancy, but not only that, I was also overwhelmed by Ana. Everything I did was wrong and she kept complaining about her pregnancy instead of trying to enjoy it and to appreciate that there is a baby growing inside her, waiting to see the world.  

Her whole personality changed as soon as my parents stepped foot into the room. So I’m not very excited to live with her. I guess this is my punishment.

We got into my apartment and I could barely recognize it. Ana changed everything many times before she was satisfied. I could hear her groan behind me and tuned around to face her.

“They put in the wrong curtains. I wanted dark grey, not this.” She went over to the window to examine the curtains. To me they looked alright but Ana has a very specific taste and wants everything to be her kind of perfect. Ana kept complaining about everything in the apartment. The bed, the colour on the living room walls and about anything really.

I took care of our baby, Lilia. Even though the thought of being with Ana for the rest of my life made me want to throw up, the result of us sleeping together gave my life a new purpose. She is beautiful and I wondered many times before, how I helped create her. She’s still so small, fragile and she means the world to me. Even though the woman I wanted to spend my life with, was long out of my life, because I left her. I left her lonely.

—

I can’t remember how I managed to go home after the wedding. My vision was blurry from all the tears that spilled and my body was weaker than ever before. I was barely able to put one foot in front of the other and walking up the stairs to my apartment felt like torture. I had to stop a few steps and sit down to cry and to collect myself again. I knew the next few months, hell maybe even years, were going to be a nightmare.    

Bucky did as I told him and left me. He went back to the party with the love of his life, Ana. He didn’t even look back to see me falling to the floor. I felt my heart getting heavier and heavier. So heavy I thought the impact of my knees hitting the floor would break the marble tiles.  

When I came home, everything I had inside, every ounce of anger, sadness and pain was spilled out all at once. I hoped that after letting everything out I would feel better, but that wasn’t the case. The days seemed longer, the nights darker and my hopes smaller. I started to feel safer at home, like nothing was able to hurt me here. My bed felt softer and gave me the warmth I needed, even though I wanted to feel the warmth that radiated from Bucky’s chest more.

I started to go to the grocery store thirty minutes away from my home, just so I wouldn’t run into Bucky or Ana. I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle seeing her pregnant with his child, carrying what I wanted to give him, a baby.

I got so consumed in sorrow, that I looked at their Instagram accounts more than a few times a day. I felt so distant to the man I used to feel the closest with, so I assumed seeing him in pictures would be the only remedy. It turned out that it made things just harder. Not only did he post pictures of himself, but also Ana. The same knife was stabbed into my heart over and over again, the same knife Bucky first pushed in my chest the day he told me he was engaged.

But the worst day out of all of them was the day Ana gave birth. She gave birth to the most beautiful baby girl I’ve ever seen. The pain in my chest never really stopped, not even after the past months, but that day they reached a new level. She looked nothing like Ana and I was glad about that. I have to admit, I hoped it would turn out not to be Bucky’s child, but the resemblance was striking. Her nose is just as narrow as his and her cheekbones set just as high. But her eyes; her eyes are the same ocean blue as her dad’s, crystal clear and sparkling like a diamond. They named her Lilia and I remembered when Bucky told me that if he’s going to have a daughter, he’s going to name her Lilia.

I sat on my couch watching my favourite movie with a glass of cheap wine in my hand. The sensation of alcohol slightly clouded my mind and I wouldn’t want to spend my Friday night any different. Everything felt calm and relaxed. The sky was dark but still occupied with stars, mirroring the glowing lights of Manhattan. The thoughts of Bucky shoved into the deep dark part of my brain, carefully placed there to never be brought out again. The movie suddenly became boring and the thought of looking over the city intrigued me. I grabbed my phone and stood at the window of my living room. I turned the music loud and melted into the sound, looking at the city.

I unlocked my phone to change the song that was playing to something more calming. But as I looked at the screen, my heart sunk as I read today’s date. Bucky came home from his honeymoon today. I wanted to scream, why couldn’t he just stay in another country forever? I was fine for the three weeks he was gone. I started shopping at my local grocery store again without fear. I was able to take a stroll through the city without the pounding anxiety, that Bucky could be walking the same streets. Tears rolled down my cheeks and I sunk to the floor. Why did he break me like this?

And I screamed, so loudly that hopefully Bucky could hear it. I wanted him to, I wanted him to hear the pain he is still causing me.

“I could move.”

My head shot up at the words in my mind. If he’s not leaving, then I am. I grabbed my laptop and typed in available apartments in Brooklyn. That was far enough, right? After hours of looking for someplace to move into, I found someone who’s looking for a roommate. Her name is Natasha.

—

Ana was a nightmare, one where you wish you could wake up but you’re paralyzed. Just a week after moving in, she managed to make me feel small and unloved. She started to control every aspect of my life in that short time span. I couldn’t go outside anymore except for work, because I had to take care of everything at home. She was able to spend more money in a day than I ever could in a month. Taking care of our baby seemed like it wasn’t her job at all, and so Lilia was my responsibility alone. She had no interest in Lilia anymore since we came back. The mother of my child, isn’t being a mother to her. And it overwhelmed me. I struggled to give Lilia what she needs. No one taught me how to change diapers, to warm up her milk because Ana refused to breastfeed her and calming her down from crying seemed impossible.

Even worse, Ana was disgusted by her own child. She kept complaining about Lilia drooling on the couch and screamed at our one month old baby. And that was the moment I truly wanted to turn back time.

I was scared to add Lilia to the list of people I love and that I’ve hurt, disappointed and let down.

I came home and was already able to hear Lilia crying inside of the apartment. I was tired and drained of energy. I hoped to get support from my wife, but that will never happen. I saw Lilia sitting in her highchair and rushed over to her. “Don’t cry, princess.” I took her in my arms and snuggled her to my chest while softly rubbing circles on her back. As she stared to calm down I made it my mission to find Ana. This couldn’t go on like this and I was ready to tell her how I feel.

With Lilia in my arms, I gathered up all my courage. I felt like I just went back in time to all those moments I convinced myself I could stand up to my parents. I walked to the bedroom where I was able to hear Ana talking on the phone and rummaging through stuff, probably throwing away clothes for her next shopping trip. With my hand shaking and my heart pounding, afraid it’ll going to burst, I opened the door. Ana was holding some of her clothes in her hands, but seconds later she threw them in a suitcase.

“Ana, what are you doing?” She looked up and she lowered her hand that held the phone.

“I’m packing.” She closed her suitcase and walked passed me. I followed her to the front door, anger bubbling inside me.

“Well, where are you going? I can’t remember us going on vacation. Oh wait, I can’t go on vacation, because I have to go to work to earn money for all the shit you’re buying.” The tone in my voice was poisoned, dripping in hatred for the woman standing in front of me.

“I’m leaving, James. Do you think I can stand one more day in this hell hole?” She took a few steps towards me. “This—“ she pointed her finger to Lilia, who was still snuggled to the side of my chest. “Is the worst thing that ever happened to me. And you are a disappointment of a man.” My jaw dropped at her words and my mind couldn’t wrap around the fact that she was leaving me. “I met someone on our honeymoon, his name is Gordon and he can please me like you never could.” Her voice got lower, darker with every letter. I felt my heart break. How could she not love her own child?

“Do you even know what a fucking brat you’ve been?” I shouted at her without remorse. I wanted her to feel the anger. “You’ve done absolutely nothing ever since you moved in. All you ever do is complain and spend my money!” The look on her face said it all. She was pissed.

Next thing I felt her hand slap my cheek with full force, leaving the side of my face red from the impact. Lilia was no longer peacefully quiet. The apartment was now filled with crying and anger lingered in the air. It was hard to breathe and I felt my chest collapse and rise at an abnormal pace.

“Then leave!” I shouted right into her face. She picked up her suitcase and slammed the door shut. I leaned against the door before sinking to the floor, holding Lilia tightly to my chest. I wanted to soothe her but my cries filled the room. How was I supposed to move on from here? I can’t take care of Lilia when I’m at work.

“Just leave. Leave me lonely.”

Y/n’s words kept echoing through my brain making me shiver. This is probably how she felt. An idea struck me like lightning. I’m probably going to get hurt but it’s worth a try.

—

I stood up from the dinner table when I heard a knock on my door. The music in my small apartment was loud and I bobbed my head as I headed to the door, walking to the beat.

I opened it only to wish I never did.

Leave Me Lonely Taglist: (OPEN)

@lovely-geek @untoldshortsofthefandoms @godohammers @bitemebuckybarnes @photography-to-all @vogueworthy-barnes

Permanent Taglist: (OPEN)

@fuckthatfeeling @funkenniffler @void-imaginations @dewy-biitch @7kindsofpurgatory

PART THREE

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Accidental Feelings and Such

Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam x Jessica (mentioned), Sam x Eileen (mentioned the thought of)

Word Count: 2,565

Warnings: this is flangst, Dean fluff, Sam awkwardness, the summary pretty much tells you what’s going to be in it or not. The fight is nothing major.

Request by @carribear31: Hey Hun, so you know I LOVE your writing, and I've been thinking about a story but I can't write to save a life over here. Something Dean x Reader, were Sam thinks he has feeling for his brothers girl and its driving him crazy cause their best friends. Sam and reader have a fight and he, totally on accident hits the reader, like he turns and didn't realize she was that close, and Dean sees and all sorts of angst, but happy ending please!!! And tag me!!! :)

Author’s Note: I got the idea for the last scene from Friends. If you’ve ever seen the show, it’s the episode where Joey thinks he’s in love with Monica but isn’t. He’s actually in love with having someone to love. Yeah, that’s what happened here. 

If you want to be a Queen or a Dean Bean, let me know and I’ll add you to the lists! So sorry this is out so late, but I hope you like it!

Feedback the glue that holds my writing together

Tags at the bottom

“Morning Sam.” You said when you trudged into the kitchen. He was sitting at the table, coffee in his hand and reading a newspaper. He must have already gotten on his run because his hair was wet from the shower he took and he was dressed in his usual attire.

His head snapped up and he blushed upon seeing you. You were only wearing on of Dean’s shirts and panties that barely peeked through. Sam was your best friend in the whole world and he’s seen more of you while patching you up. You didn’t think it was that big of a deal.

“Uh, shouldn’t you be wearing more?” Sam said, obviously flustered. You frowned and looked at Sam, seeing his cheeks tinted pink. You looked down at your clothes and shrugged, looking back at Sam.

“No, this is what I usually wear. Don’t be a baby, you’ve seen me in less.” You said, watching his movements. He nodded stiffy and when you sat down with your bowl of cereal, he bolted right up and left his coffee and paper on the table as he walked backwards to the door in a hurry to get away from you.

“Sam, are you okay?” You asked, suddenly concerned for him. Sam’s eyes flitted to your thighs where the end of Dean’s shirt had exposed more skin. He looked back to your eyes and he chuckled nervously.

“Yeah, I’m f-fine. I gotta go.” He said, turning around and almost knocking Dean on his as from how fast he was moving.

“Whoa, where’s the fire?” Dean said, looking at his brother.

“Funny, Dean. I gotta go.” Sam said quickly and rushed out of the kitchen and probably to his room. You stared at the spot where Sam just was and didn’t know what just happened. It was way too early to figure it out anyways. You would have to grill him about it later.

Dean walked over to you and you smiled, tilting your head back to look into his eyes.

“Morning.” He drawled.

“Good morning to you. I hope you slept okay.” You said, glancing up at his lips. He was upside down to you but that didn’t stop him from leaning down and kissing you. This reminded you of the famous Spider-Man kiss but it was hard to focus on that when his lips moved in sync with yours.

“Dean, I’m trying to eat.” You said after you pulled away. You smiled at him and he winked, leaving to go get his coffee and to get started on his breakfast. You stated to eat your bowl of cereal, going in for seconds when you were done.

“Hey, what was up with Sam?” Dean asked when he put the bacon on the heated pan.

“I have no clue. I just came in here and he seemed fine until he looked at me. Said I should wear more clothes. It’s weird, he’s seen me in less.” You said, shaking your head.

“Well, I, for one, think you look delicious in my clothes.” Dean said with a smirk. You didn’t have to look at him to know he was staring at you.

“Keep it in your pants, Winchester.” You said with a small smile.

“You weren’t saying that last night.”

“We had a bit too much to drink last night.” You argued.

“Didn’t make it less passionate.” Dean said, turning to his food on the stove. You spend the rest of the early morning in the kitchen, making small talk with him to pass the time. You didn’t have a case going on so you thought the day should be spent inside, just relaxing with Sam and Dean.

Speaking of Sam, after you showered and gotten dressed, you wanted to know what was up with him earlier. You knew where he might have been. Since his bedroom door was open, you knew he wasn’t in there. So, there was only one more place he would have been unless he wasn’t in the Bunker.

You were right. When you entered the library, he was sitting at one of the tables, reading one of the lore books. It was just like him to always soak up information even when there wasn’t a case. You quietly walked to him, careful not to make a sound until you were right behind him.

You bent to his level and made sure your mouth was next to his ear when you spoke.

“Watcha reading?” You asked, making Sam jump out of his seat. You chuckled and took the seat next to him but Sam shot out of his before your ass could touch the wood.

“Sam, are you okay?” You asked, frowning.

“You caught me at a bad time. I gotta go.” He said, swiftly turning around and leaving you alone in the library. You grew a little angry. Was it something you did? You had no idea what bug crawled up Sam’s ass and nested in there for him to be acting this way to you.

You grabbed Sam’s book and slammed it shut, getting up and placing it back where it belonged. You marched where you knew Sam would be, knocking on his door to confront him.

“Sam, open up.” You demanded of him.

“Uh, I can’t. I’m busy. Why don’t you come back later?” Sam said. He was trying to get rid of you.

“Sam, just open the fucking door. What the hell is wrong with you?” You asked, trying to open his door yourself but the bastard locked it.

“Just, leave me alone.” Sam said. You scoffed and pounded on his door once, before leaving to go find Dean. You found him in the kitchen, eating whatever was left of the pie you made a few days ago.

“Dean, what the hell is up with Sam?” You asked, a little bit angry.

“What is going on? What do you mean?” Dean asked, finishing the bite he took.

“When I walked into the library earlier, he took one look at me and bolted. Did I do something wrong? Why doesn’t he want to be around me?”

“You’re probably over thinking it. Maybe he’s dealing with something that he hasn’t told us about. Just give him his space and he’ll talk when he’s ready. I would know, I raised him.” Dean said, passing this off as Sam being weird.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” You said with a sigh, sitting next to him. You stole his fork and took a quick bite of the pie.

“Woman, who do you think you are?” Dean said, shocked that you would do this to him.

“The woman you love.” You said with a giggle, handing him back his fork.

“We’ll see. I don’t know, you might have crossed the line with this one.” Dean said in a playful manor, taking his fork back.

“Oh, quit whining you big baby.” You giggled, knowing he was only joking.

The next day, since Sam wasn’t speaking to either you or Dean, you didn’t know if he found a case or not. You tried to talk to him earlier, but he left the room without saying a word to you. Once, when you were eating lunch in the kitchen, he walked in, saw you, and then left. You were getting pissed now. If Sam had a problem with you, then he should just tell you instead of making you feel like you’re worthless.

You got up, leaving your lunch where it was and following him where you blocked his path to the hallways. Dean was out doing a little bit of food shopping, so, you had to do this now.

“Samuel Winchester, you tell me what is wrong right now.” You said with a bit of venom in your tone.

“Look, I don’t think this is the best time.” Sam tried to say but you had enough of his shit.

“No, Sam, you’ve been avoiding me like I’m the plague or something. Did I do something to you? Are you mad at me?” You asked, needing some answers.

“No, I’m not mad at you.” Sam said, backing up from you. He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Then what is it? You leave a room when you see me. How do you think this makes me feel? Sam, you’re my best friend. Talk to me.” You tried again.

“Look, I can’t have your help on this one. You wouldn’t understand.” Sam said, turning around and walking to the tables to get further from you. But, no, he wasn’t going anywhere until you knew what was going on.

“Sam, seriously, what is going on with you? Just tell me, I can handle it!” You raised your voice a little.

“No, Y/N, just drop it.” Sam said, a bit agitated. He still hasn’t looked at you and that was making you even more angry.

“Sam! Stop being a fucking pussy and tell me!!” You full on yelled at him. You walked closer to him, practically feeling the heat radiate off his body from how angry he was. He seemed to have snapped because he turned around to confront you, his arms swinging out to make some sort of gesture.

Well, it was the fact that you were too close to him, or his arms were just too damn long. But, when he swung his body around, his turned too swiftly, backhanding you across the face. You gasped, the slap the loudest thing in the room.

“Oh, God, Y/N, I’m so sorry.” Sam tried to apologize. You held your burning cheek, getting tears from the sting.

“Hey! What the hell was that?” Dean said, storming over to his brother. Dean has just come in at the right time, seeing his brother slap you across the face.

“No, Dean, I didn’t mean to.” Sam tried saying but it was no use. Dean was already to him, punching his brother in the face. Sam tried to scramble away from his brother but Dean punched him a second time before you jumped in.

“Dean! Stop! It was an accident!” You said, ignoring the stinging sensation on your cheek. You had some trouble pulling Dean away but when Dean looked over at you, he knew you would have a bruise there for the next week or so.

He glared at his brother who looked very guilty for hitting you.

“Come on, Y/N, let me look at that. Sam, don’t think I’m done with you.” Dean said, giving his brother the evil eyes.

“Dean, it wasn’t his fault. I was standing too close.” You tried saying as Dean whisked you away to the kitchen where there was a medical kit. You had one placed in the rooms you were always in. just in case something happened and you would need a kit. They wouldn’t be too far away.

“Dean, it wasn’t his fault.” You tried again, sighing when Dean checked your bruise that was already starting to form.

“I’m going to fucking kill him.” Dean muttered, getting out an ice pack for you to place on your face.

“Dean, please, I was standing too close.” You tried to ease his nerves but it wasn’t happening.

“Stay here.” Dean said before leaving you in the kitchen, all by yourself. You sighed and heard them arguing in the other room. You were going to go listen in, when you heard their footsteps descend and you knew they were farther away from you now.

You put away the first aid kit and wondered what could be the reason Sam is so upset.

It was hours later and Dean was done talking with Sam. You were in yours and Dean’s room, feeling your skin tighten from where Sam’s skin made contact with yours. Dean refused to tell you what they talked about and you didn’t pressure him or anything. You just wanted to sleep it off and hope that tomorrow would erase today’s events.

You heard a knock on your door and you knew Dean wouldn’t knock for his own room. You knew who it was.

“Come in, Sam.” You said, sitting at the edge of the bed. Sam opened the door and when he saw your face, guilt was more evident than the other emotions he was experiencing.

“Sam, it’s okay, it was an accident. I was standing too close to you.” You said with a sigh.

“That’s not why I’m here.”

“Oh, then why are you here?”

“To tell you I’m sorry. You’re my best friend and you didn’t deserve me icing you out like that.” Sam said, walking further into the rom. You could see him more clearly and saw a bruise forming under his eye were Dean punched him.

“Then why did you, Sam? You made me feel worthless, like I wasn’t important to you anymore.”

“Look, I’ve been dealing with something and I’m not sure what it means. Dean told me to talk to you about it but I don’t know if I can.”

“Sam, come on, it’s me. Of course, you can talk to me. What is it?”

“I had a dream the other night of you but you weren’t Dean’s girlfriend. You were mine and I loved you. I think I may have feelings for you.” Sam said, not meeting your eyes.

“Sam, look at me,” You said in a soft voice. When he did, he had unshed tears in his eyes. “Sam, you’re not in love with me.”

“How do you know? I can’t stop thinking about you and Dean. When you came into the kitchen wearing his shirt and nothing else, I knew I had to get away. I don’t want to ruin what you and Dean have. I’m sorry.” Sam said. You pulled him to the bed and sat him next to you.

“Sam, you’re not in love with me and I’ll tell you why. We just came back from a hunt that involved love, romance, and couples. I believe that you see what Dean and I have together and maybe, that's what you want? You had it with Jessica and I’m pretty sure you would have had it with Eileen if she were here today. You want someone to care for and love. I’m around here all the time and your mind replaced a woman you can have that with, for me. I don’t think you’re in love with me. I think you’re in love with the idea of having someone to hold and to love.”

“You know, now that you mention it, I did repel at the sight of you before the case.” Sam said, obviously joking.

“Hey, I’m right here,” You said, shoving his shoulder.

“I am sorry about that bruise though.” Sam said, looking at you.

“It wasn’t your fault. So, are we good?” You asked.

“Yeah, we’re good.” Sam said, his dimples peeking out from his smile.

“Good,” You said, leaning in and kissing his cheek. Sam got up and patted your leg before leaving Dean’s room. You loved Sam so much, but only as a friend. Sam passed Dean on the way to his room.

“Hey, you talked with her?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, we’re good.” Sam said with a nod.

“Great. Night.” Dean said, going back to his room. Sam sighed, thinking of you the whole time to his room. When he closed his door, he shook his head.

“Yeah, I’m in love with her.”

The Queens:

@maddieburcham1 @ginamsmith  @mogaruke @whit85-blog @inlovewithbja @spn67-sister @kdfrqqg @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @roxyspearing @supercalifragilistic26 @mishamigose @cobrakai1967 @essie1876 @wishedworld @crispychrissy @laqueus-ludovicus @nostalgic-uncertainty @jerk-bitch-and-an-angel @potterhead1265 @starswirlblitz @untitled39887 @ta-n-ja @deans-fallen-angel-boy @scarletluvscas @notnaturalanahi @tahbehonest @stay-in--place @dreaminofdean @posiemax @donnaintx @mikey1822 @alexandriajanae4 @li-ssu @just-another-winchester @obsessivecompulsivespn @emoryhemsworth @newtospnfandom @mizzezm @goldenolaf25

The Dean Beans:

@akshi8278 @mega-mrs-dean-winchester  @winchesterandpie @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @carribear31 @tacklesackles @oreosatmidnight @not-naturalfangirl @missselinakitty @iam-a-cutiepie  @kristendansmith @milo-winchester-4ever @jensenackesl @codyshany316 @pheonyxstorm @helllonearth @juniorhuntersam @pouterpufftrain @ruprecht0420 @shut-ur-face-and-get-in-the-car @carriemichelle2012 @aubreystilinski

[youngwidowofbrooklyn]

Happy, happy birthday, baby.

Today is your birthday, my love. I told our son that it was. Last year I didn’t; I decided he was too young to understand how we could celebrate it without you. This year, I told him and explained that even though you can’t be here with us, he and I could still have some chocolate cake, your favorite, and celebrate for you.

I told him earlier this week, then thought better of it, but this morning he remembered, and he’s excited to have a birthday treat when he’s out of school this afternoon. I hope I did the right thing by telling him. I hope it doesn’t lead to questions I don’t know how to answer.

This morning, he broke a pair of nail clippers. “I’m sowee, Mommy,” he said, “I’m sowee.”

“It’s okay, honey.”

“Maybe when Daddoo is not sick anymore, he can fix them.”

I nodded, “Or maybe I could just fix them.”

It kills me, sometimes, his optimism that you’ll be back, that you’ll be better one day and come home to us. Even though our home now is hundreds of miles from where we last saw you.

I know you never really made a big deal of your birthday. You never much cared for it, never took the day off work for it, never wanted a party. But I’m thankful that I can remember the last birthday we spent together. Your 40th. Home from the hospital for a bit. We invited your two closest friends and their families to celebrate with us. I made a few of your favorite Indian dishes and we had the same vegan cupcakes that we’d made for our wedding. We sang “Happy Birthday” to you, all of us, and our son’s eyes were alit because he’d never seen such a ritual - a cake with a candle, people surrounding you and, as if on cue, singing a song together, to you, as you smiled and then blew out the candle. Our son asked us to sing it again, again, again, and we laughed.

I’m glad I have that one memory of the time we made a big fuss for your birthday.

Incidentally, I still wear your wedding rings - the cheap, black titanium one you picked out for our wedding, and the white gold one I had inscribed with our wedding date, an infinity sign, and our son’s birthdate, the one I surprised you with on that same birthday. The rings fit my ring fingers on each hand perfectly, and that reminds me of your slender, soft fingers, of your remarkably soft hands. “The hands of a man with an office job,” you used to joke.

For a long while I didn’t wear them, couldn’t bring myself to. But then, scatterbrained as I am, I went to look for them and realized I couldn’t remember what “safe place” I’d put them in. When I found them again, I was so relieved, and I realized that the only way to truly keep them safe is the wear them. So I do. And doing so doesn’t pain me as much anymore.

Chris Cornell died two days ago. Immediately, I remembered how we used to listen to his solo album and the first Audioslave record in our first apartment together. You always thought he had the best voice in his genre. He did, I agree. I think of his wife, and I hurt for her, remembering what those first few days of grief and loss feel like.

It’s raining today. The sky is overcast and it’s cool outside, much different than the weather we have been having, that’s browned our son’s forearms, that’s left my shoulders and nose sunburnt from spending too much time unprotected in our garden. This weather always reminds me of the day we got engaged, on my birthday in 2007, driving into Kansas, stopping in Lawrence for vegan milkshakes, walking back to our car with the rain spitting down on us; then, as I got into the passenger seat, you surprised me by kneeling down in the rain in front of the open door, pulling out a little black box and saying words so sweet, words I can’t remember, maybe couldn’t hear, because I was crying and swearing so much while you did. This weather reminds me of the day you died. A warmish September, but a gloomy day, overcast, spitting down rain, as I walked out of the hospital, leaving your body behind, a mass of our friends holding me up, while I tried to make jokes so that they could see that I was okay, it would all be okay. Every time the sky behaves like this I see you. Is it you? Are you here? Jesus, I hope so. I really do. But even if you’re not, in some mystical way, I know that you are and were always a part of this world, particles, mass, bones, and the more ethereal, the feelings and passions that exist, continue to exist in our world. And so, yes, it’s you. You’re here now and I haven’t forgotten you. 

You know that there have been men who’ve come after you. I struggle with this, and I struggle with moving on, in general. Physical comfort is something that I know you wouldn’t deny me. I’m at peace with that, mostly. But no one has my heart in the way that you did. No one ever could. Maybe one day someone else will find a new, different way to give and receive love with me. I remain hopeful that this could happen. But you’ll never be replaced. Not ever.

I think about the state of American politics right now, and I wish I could hear you spout on about it. I can’t believe the turn that our nation’s taken since your death. I want to talk to you about it; I’m so curious how you would react, what venomous words you’d use to describe our situation. But then again, I wouldn’t enjoy seeing you in that state, so that’s as much as I’ll say about that.

Today I paid an electrician a hundred dollars to show me how to open the light fixtures in the kitchen and replace the bulbs. It makes me feel foolish and like a failure. I know if you were here, this would’ve been something you’d taken care of swiftly and saved us some money. I wish you’d been a homeowner, like I now am. You deserved it. You, quite literally earned it; after all, it was your hard-earned money that paid for the house I now call mine.

Our boy is tall. He’s bright and sweet and funny and kind. God, I wish you knew him. And I wish he knew you. And, really, I wish I knew what life would be like with both of you in it at the same time. I wish the two of you had games and jokes to share that I wasn’t in on. I wish you were here to comfort him when he exhibits traits that I know come from you, ones that I have a hard time understanding. I wish I had your wisdom to guide me through parenthood.

I don’t know what else to say....even as I want to keep talking to you, even as I want to go day by day through every thing you’ve missed, even as I want to know how you are, where you are, how this whole awful mess weighed on you in different and similar ways as it did me.

I want to celebrate you, my love, and I will. I will try, tonight, for the sake of our child, and for me. And for you. It will be hard, though. I’m trying my best to get all my tears out now, in hopes that there won’t be many left by the time I pick up our child from school.

I love you. I miss you terribly. I didn’t expect to be able to go on without you. And in some ways, I haven’t. I hope you understand, and forgive me that. I’m trying my best. It’s very hard, harder than either of us could’ve known. 

I love you. I miss you. Terribly.